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alloftheimaginesblog · 10 months ago

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first love {e.m}

plot: you were eddie's first love and you never forget your first love.

character: eddie munson x reader

Everyone knew about you. A day never passed without Eddie mentioning you and your name whether it be a passing "(y/n) loved that" or a more in depth conversation about you or a memory but Eddie always spoke about you. You and Eddie were high school sweethearts. You'd been friends for years and everyone thought that you'd eventually end up together and they were right.

Eddie was your first. First boyfriend, first kiss, first love. You were the same for him and everybody knew it.

The way Eddie spoke about you made everyone smile. He spoke so highly of you, always complimenting you and telling the craziest stories. The two of you were the perfect couple; the 'it' couple as they say. The pair of you together were free, no cares in the world and just happy. God, the two of you were just so damn happy.

"Well, where is she?" Dustin asked with that toothy grin after Eddie had finished telling him a story about the time you and him broke into the school and ended up catching two teachers making out, "You're always talking about her but where is she?"

Eddie's face fell and it was in that moment that Dustin knew he'd fucked up.

Around the room, everyone who knew the truth's eyes widened and stared at Dustin then Eddie then Dustin. Eddie's eyes glazed over face unreadable as Dustin frowned and looked around the room, "What?" He asked, "Did I say something I shouldn't have? I was only asking where (y/n) is, you all look like you've seen a ghost- Oh."

With a horror filled expression, Dustin turned to Eddie and his suspicion was confirmed, "Oh fuck," Dustin whispered, "Eddie, I'm so- fuck, man, I didn't know- I'm so sorry-"

Eddie shook his head, swallowing hard and forcing a quick smile, "It's fine." He stood and cleared his throat, "I just need to get some air."

The room was dead silent until Eddie left and then Steve whacked Dustin on the arm, "Dude!"

"Why did none of you freaking tell me his girlfriend is dead?!" Dustin hissed to Nancy and Steve, "You- You made me look like an idiot! Fuck!"

Outside, Eddie was on the hood of his car, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket along with a lighter to light it up. He looked up to the darkening sky as he took a puff and closed his eyes. He liked to imagine you up there with all the legends, partying and singing away, just waiting until it was his turn to come and then you'd party for all eternity with each other. It had been almost two years since he lost you and there wasn't a moment where he didn't think about you. Every single decision Eddie made, every thought he had... it was all connected to you. Eddie had bought his new van based on what he thought you'd say about it. Eddie wore the outfits you bought him or at least modelled himself in similar items of clothing to ones he knew that you liked. You were gone but you truly lived on in Eddie Munson's day to day life.

It was a few minutes later when Eddie was pressing the cigarette into the grass under his boot that Dustin came out, "Hey, kid," Eddie said, glancing over his shoulder at him, "Come, sit."

Dustin awkwardly sat beside Eddie on the hood of the car, he was shit scared and Eddie could tell, "Dude, I'm so-"

"S'alright," Eddie said with a half smile.

"No, Eddie, seriously, I didn't-"

"Dustin," Eddie's voice was louder but he wasn't angry, he was calm. This was probably the calmest Eddie had ever been now that Dustin was thinking about it, "It's alright."

Dustin nodded and released a long breath allowing his shoulders to sag. He was silent for a few seconds before he said it anyway, "I didn't know... I'm really sorry."

The older boy dug around in his pocket before he pulled out two things; a photo and his lighter. He handed them both to Dustin, "There's my girl." The smile on Eddie's face when he looked at your picture said it all, "That's (y/n) and that lighter was (y/n)'s. She carved our initials into it, see?" Dustin flipped the lighter and sure enough, yours and Eddie's initials were carved onto the black metal, "I carry those everywhere I go... so that she's always with me."

"Can- Can I ask what happened?" Dustin handed the picture and lighter back to Eddie.

Eddie shrugged, "I lost her, that's the long and short of it all. Got hit by a drunk driver one night when we were stopped at a red light. She was gone instantly. I..." Eddie sucked in breath and released it, "Sometimes I wish I'd gone that night too." Dustin didn't speak, he just let Eddie talk, "She hadn't wanted to go out, she wanted to stay in but I wanted more beer. Had I not wanted it-"

"It's not your fault, Eddie."

Eddie nodded, staring down at his photo of you, "Would you believe me if I said it makes it easier if I blame me? No use blaming the other driver, he died that night in hospital. He's dead, can't blame a dead man but I can blame me... and if I blame me, it means that I can be better; I can better myself for her, for (y/n)."

"What was she like?" Eddie spoke about you that much that Dustin already had a pretty good idea of what you were like but he wanted to hear it from Eddie in this heartbreakingly raw moment.

Eddie's face stretched into a wide smile, "Henderson, you would've loved her. She was fiery, didn't take anyone's shit. She was funny, could make friends just like that. She loved D&D, she was the one that coined the name Hellfire Club. She was... She would've done great things. She would've loved you."

The pair smiled at one another before Eddie's eyes returned to the sky, "S'alright, Henderson. You didn't know, don't feel bad about it."

Dustin nodded, realising that was Eddie ending the conversation, "You coming back in?" He jumped from the hood of the car and looked expectantly at the older boy.

"In a minute," Eddie sighed, "just gonna chat to my girl for a minute."

"Say hi to her from me."

"Will do."

Dustin gave him a small smile before walking back inside. Eddie's eyes closed as he looked up, "I wish you could meet them all, pretty eyes, Henderson especially. I think he would've loved you almost as much as I do... Ah well, I better go back in. Don't want them thinking I've gone all soft, eh?" He opened his eyes and looked at your picture once more before pressing a gentle kiss to it, "I love you."

#one shot #os #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson #imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things one shot #stranger things reader insert #reader insert

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the-winter-spider · 2 months ago

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The Alchemy | Part 5

NFL!Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 5k

Warning: Angst, toxic relationship, manipulation

A/N: Im sorry in trying my best, mental health is just a bitch. Once again i dont know shit about football or the NFL LOL I'm an NHL girly but here we are so if i get terms and shit wrong its ok cuz its a fan fic 🤣🤣

Masterpost

----

The party was in full swing by the time you and Bucky arrived—packed with sweaty, overhyped teenagers celebrating the team’s win, red plastic cups littering every surface, the air thick with cheap beer and bad decisions. Someone had strung up white Christmas lights around the backyard, giving the whole place a soft glow, but it did nothing to cut through the chaos.

You weren’t even sure who actually lived here, just that it was a senior with rich parents who conveniently weren’t home, and that half the damn school had shown up to celebrate.

The music pulsed through your chest, bass-heavy and a little too loud, but it didn’t matter. Because Bucky was there, pressed close as he navigated you through the swarm of people like he always did, one hand grazing the small of your back, the other lifting in a lazy wave whenever a teammate shouted his name.

“Stay put,” he murmured near your ear once you’d finally managed to carve out a small space near the bonfire. “I’ll grab us a drink.”

You nodded, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

The night was warm, the heat of the fire licking at your skin. You weren’t fully relaxed, there was something about nights like these, about parties, about being surrounded by people who were too drunk to notice if something went wrong, but Bucky made it better. He always did.

A few minutes later, he returned, grinning as he held out a red cup. “Here, got you something good.”

The second you caught the scent, rich, smoky, unmistakable—your stomach twisted.

Whiskey.

The smell hit you like a punch to the gut, sharp and suffocating, dragging you back to memories you wanted buried. The way the bottle slammed onto the counter. The way his words slurred together, thick with anger. The way your mother sat frozen at the table, staring at the wall, waiting for it to pass.

Your fingers curled into your palm. “I—I can’t drink that.”

Bucky frowned, holding it out a little more. “What? Since when does my girl turn down a drink?”

Your throat tightened. “Just… not whiskey.”

He opened his mouth, probably to make some joke about you being picky but then, you saw it. The exact second he realized.

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening just slightly before flickering with something heavy. His grip on the cup faltered. “Oh, fuck.” His voice was barely above a whisper, rough with something close to regret. “Shit, I—I’m sorry.”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a small, tight smile. “Bucky, it’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it’s not,” he muttered, setting the cup down so fast it nearly toppled over. “Stay here, I’ll be right back….again.”

You watched as he vanished again, weaving back through the house, his shoulders tense.

For some reason, your chest ached.

You hadn’t expected him to care so much. It was just a drink. Just a stupid drink at a stupid party. But Bucky had looked at you like he’d failed you somehow..

When he returned, he had two cold beers in his hands. He pressed one into yours before cracking open his own, exhaling sharply like he was only just allowing himself to relax.

“I feel like an idiot,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I should’ve remembered.”

“Bucky, it’s an insignificant thing, it’s really not—”

He cut you off before you could downplay it again. “Nothing about you is insignificant, okay? Nothing.” His blue eyes burned with sincerity, sharp and unshakable. “The stuff that matters to you? It matters to me too. And I’m sorry I forgot.”

Your heart squeezed.

You weren’t used to people treating you like this—like your pain was valid, like your boundaries mattered, like your past wasn’t something to be brushed aside.

But Bucky always had.

He always would. You’re sure of it.

You swallowed hard, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you,” you murmured. “For always being there for me.”

“Always” He whispered, a slight crack in his voice.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the flickering firelight, beer bottles hanging loosely in your hands.

He was close..so close, the space between you shrinking with every unspoken word. His gaze flickered to your lips, just for a second, before his tongue darted out to wet his own.

Your pulse hammered. Finally, you thought.

And then…

“BUCKY, MY MAN!”

The moment shattered.

A loud, drunken whoop cut through the night, and then, suddenly, the entire football team was descending on him, dragging him into their celebration, slapping his back, shoving beer into his free hand.

You took a step back, your breath still caught in your throat.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, something like frustration flashing across his face, like he knew what had almost happened, what finally, almost happened, like he wanted to go back but then someone was lifting him onto their shoulders, chanting his name, and he was forced to tear his gaze away.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You let out a quiet breath, tilting your beer back and swallowing the lump in your throat.

Maybe it was for the best.

Maybe it was a sign you were meant to just be friends. To always be just friends.

-----

The hallway outside your hotel room was quiet, save for the occasional distant voices of players passing through, all heading somewhere to celebrate the win. You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you waited for John. The nerves sitting heavy in your stomach weren’t from excitement—weren’t from the anticipation of a night out, a rare moment to unwind after the intensity of the season’s start. No, this feeling was something else.

You knew what kind of night this would be before it even started. Because you knew John, and the thought of Bucky and him at the same table left you anxious.

John was already running late, and you were left alone with your thoughts, the seconds stretching into minutes, making you hyper-aware of everything—the way your dress felt too tight around your ribs, the way your pulse thrummed a little too fast.

Then, a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“You okay?”

You turned slightly to see Bucky standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable.

You nodded quickly, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just waiting on John.”

His eyes flickered with something, something you couldn’t quite place. He didn’t say anything right away, just studied you for a moment longer. And for a second, you wondered if he could see it, the way your hands clenched the fabric of your dress at your sides, the way your shoulders were drawn just a little too tight. He use to be able to.

But before either of you could say anything more, the hotel door swung open behind you.

John stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket, his phone in one hand. He barely spared you a glance before looking past you to Bucky.

“Barnes,” he said smoothly.

Bucky gave him a nod, expression still unreadable. “Walker.”

John’s hand found the small of your back, the touch firm, more like a warning than anything else. “We’ll see you guys there,” he said, already steering you down the hallway.

Bucky didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering even as you walked away.

The ride to the restaurant was silent at first, the only sound coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional ding of John’s phone as he scrolled through messages. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, your fingers digging into your palm to keep them steady.

Then, he spoke.

“Do not embarrass me tonight.”

You blinked, your breath catching slightly. “What?”

John didn’t look up from his phone. “These guys? They’re not just players. They have influence. And if you make me look bad in front of them—” He finally turned his gaze on you, a tight smile pulling at his lips. “Well, let’s not make this difficult, okay?”

You nodded automatically, your throat tightening.

He sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the seat. “Just smile, laugh at my jokes. And don’t go on and on about your stupid media stuff, alright? Trust me they don’t give a shit, they’re just playing nice because you used to be friends with Barnes.”

Used to

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look out the window as the city lights blurred past.

It was funny, in a cruel sort of way. You were finally in a place where you felt like you belonged, like you were good at something, and yet John had a way of making it feel so…insignificant. Like you were just playing pretend. And you knew he was right, they were some of the best players in the league getting paid millions of dollars. Why the hell would they care about you and your stupid job that you apparently didn't even earn on your own. And Bucky… well you didn’t even wanna get started on that because you knew deep down you weren't good enough for him then you certainly not good enough for him now. Friends or not.

By the time you pulled up to the restaurant, the unease had settled deep in your chest.

The restaurant hummed with warm, low chatter, the golden glow of the dimmed lights casting soft shadows against the walls. The air still carried the lingering buzz of victory, the easy energy of a team celebrating a job well done. The conversation around the table flowed effortlessly—teammates recounting plays, exchanging banter, trading inside jokes.

You sat between John and Sam, fingers curled around the napkin in your lap, trying to keep yourself grounded. Across from you, Bucky sat quietly, his beer untouched in front of him, blue eyes scanning the table. He wasn’t withdrawn, exactly, but he was watching. Observing.

John, on the other hand, was in his element. Effortlessly inserting himself into conversations, charming everyone around him, laughing at just the right moments. It was all so natural, so perfectly performed, and it made your stomach churn.

The waiter arrived, taking orders, and when he got to you, John barely hesitated before speaking.

“She’ll have an Old Fashioned,” he said smoothly, handing the menu back without looking at you.

You stiffened.

You hated Old Fashioneds. You hated Whiskey, its what your Dad use to drink.

It was such a small thing. Such a stupid, insignificant thing. But the way he did it, so carelessly, so decisively, without even glancing at you, made something burn in your chest.

For a second, you thought about correcting him. Thought about forcing your voice through the thick silence building in your throat. But before you could, his hand slid onto your thigh under the table, fingers pressing firm. Not quite enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you.

You stayed quiet.

When your gaze lifted, Bucky was already watching.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. But the look in his eyes made your skin feel too tight, like he saw right through you. Like he was remembering something.

And maybe he was.

The moment passed, lost in the clatter of silverware, in the swell of voices as the team kept talking.

“So, John,” Steve said, glancing at him. “What do you do?”

John leaned back slightly, his arm still draped over the back of your chair like he belonged there. “I do some PR work behind the scenes,” he said easily. “NFL branding initiatives, helping coordinate events, stuff like that.”

Helping coordinate events. That was generous. You knew damn well he barely lifted a finger. He had a title, sure—something vague that let him slip into rooms he didn’t belong in—but his name, his father, were what carried the real weight.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And your dad? He’s still high up in the league, right?”

John grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s got his hands in just about everything. Any major decision in the league, you can bet he’s a part of it.”

Sam let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn. No wonder you’re so connected.”

John just laughed. “Exactly. Connections are everything in this business. It’s all about who you know.”

He said it so smoothly, like it was just an offhand comment, like it wasn’t meant to cut. But then—

“That’s actually how Y/N got this job, you know.”

Your stomach dropped.

He said it like it was nothing. Like it was casual. Like it wasn’t a grenade he’d just thrown into the middle of the table.

John chuckled, nudging your side. “She’s so damn stubborn—wanted to do everything on her own. Thought she could earn it on her own. But hey, I put in a good word, made sure the right people saw her résumé.”

Silence.

You thought you might be sick.

With the boys that heard, with Bucky thinking you didn’t earn this job, didn’t deserve this job. You felt small, embarrassed. You felt all the colour drain from your face as you took in a sharp inhale.

And from the way Bucky’s jaw tensed slightly, from the way his fingers curled around his beer glass, you knew he was biting back from saying something.

The noise of the restaurant pressed in around you, but everything felt muted, far away. Your hands clenched in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you stared at the flickering candle in the center of the table, trying to keep your face neutral.

Then—

“Doesn’t matter how she got the job,” Sam said suddenly, his voice easy but firm. “Girl’s talented as hell. Deserves it.”

You looked up, surprised.

He was grinning at you, all warmth and confidence, like he hadn’t just rescued you from drowning. And you couldn’t help it—you smiled back, your chest loosening just a little.

But the moment was short-lived. It always was.

John’s hand tightened around your thigh in a sharp, quick squeeze. Not enough to draw attention. Just enough for you to feel it.

“Of course, my girl deserves the world,” he said smoothly, giving you a kiss on the temple before sitting back like he hadn’t just staked a claim.

Bucky was still watching.

Still quiet.

And then John, ever the performer, turned back to the conversation with a smirk. “So, Barnes,” he started, picking up his beer. “You knew Y/N back in what was it again? High school, huh?”

“Our whole childhood.” Bucky’s gaze flicked from you to John, his face unreadable. “But yeah.”

John laughed, shaking his head as he gave you another playful squeeze. “Bet she was a handful back then, huh? Like she is now?”

You forced a small, tight smile, but the grip on your thigh burned.

Bucky didn’t take the bait.

His voice was steady, even, when he finally spoke.

“I could never think that of her.”

The air at the table shifted. It was subtle, but it was there, the tension threading through the conversation like an undercurrent, pulling tighter with every second that passed.

Bucky’s voice was steady, even—but beneath it, there was an unmistakable edge, something sharp and unyielding. His blue eyes never wavered from John’s, locking him in place. And for the first time that night, John hesitated. Just for a second.

You had never seen him hesitate before. It wasn’t in his nature. He was used to having everything handed to him, power, privilege, even respect, whether he earned it or not.

Then, he let out an easy chuckle, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t noticed the shift in energy. “That so?” He took a slow sip of his beer before glancing at you, his smirk returning. “You must’ve had him wrapped around your finger then, huh?”

Your stomach twisted.

You knew what he was doing. The fake charm, the lighthearted jabs that were never actually lighthearted. The way he was always trying to remind you, to remind everyone, that you were his.

Before you could say anything, Bucky leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.

“She wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice calm but deliberate. “She didn’t take advantage of people.”

John’s smirk didn’t falter, but you felt his fingers press a little harder against your thigh.

“No?” he said smoothly. “Guess she’s changed, then.”

The words were coated in something...something that made your chest tighten, something that made Bucky’s fingers flex around his glass.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Steve cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. Sam, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced between John and Bucky, lips pressing into a thin line. The energy around the table felt like a slow-building storm, quiet but electric.

John exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Relax, Barnes,” he said, his voice light, but the way he said Bucky’s name, like it was a joke, like it was something he didn’t take seriously—made your stomach drop.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t flinch.

But something in his expression changed.

His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightening slightly, and you could see the muscle feather under his skin.

It wasn’t that Bucky had a short temper. He didn’t. But there were certain things that got under his skin, certain buttons that could be pushed just enough to break that infamous restraint of his.

And John was pushing them.

Hard.

“I’m relaxed,” Bucky said evenly, voice slow and measured. But the way he was gripping the glass in his hand told you otherwise.

John chuckled again, but it was forced this time.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “I always wondered what it would be like, growing up with her. Bet she was always the center of attention, huh?” His grip on your leg tightened as he glanced at you, his tone deliberately playful but edged with something sharper. “She loves that, doesn’t she?”

It was a test. A warning. A reminder.

And Bucky knew it. You knew it.

His expression didn’t change, but his shoulders tensed just, the way they always did when he was holding himself back.

“She deserves attention,” Bucky said, voice low, the weight of it settling heavily between them. “The right kind.”

The implication was there, clear as day.

John’s fingers twitched against your thigh.

That got John’s attention. John for the first time that night, he finally looked Bucky directly in the eye.

The fake smile was gone.

The air felt thick, suffocating, like something was teetering on the edge of breaking.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs.

John stared at Bucky for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it had shifted, he leaned back again, his smirk sliding back into place like nothing had happened.

He let out another laugh, shaking his head. “Man, you must really got it bad, don’t you?”

Bucky didn’t react.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

It was unbearable. You couldn't even hear the chatter from the other side of the table anymore, you couldn't hear the loud music, you could only hear the blood in your ears and the thumping of your heart.

Then, finally, John exhaled, giving your leg one last, sharp squeeze before finally pulling his hand away.

When Bucky didn’t give him a response of any kind he kept going. “Well,” he said smoothly, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “I don’t blame you. She’s something else, huh?”

His lips pressed against your temple, but his grip on your shoulder was firm, and when you instinctively glanced at Bucky again, his jaw was clenched so tightly you thought he might crack a tooth.

The moment hung there, heavy, stretching impossibly long.

The tension at the table was suffocating now, pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You could feel Bucky’s stare—burning, unwavering—but you refused to look back at him. You couldn’t. Because if you did, you weren’t sure what you’d see in his expression.

Anger?

Regret?

Something worse?

John, on the other hand, was thriving in it. You could tell by the way he leaned back casually in his chair, the way he sipped his drink like he wasn’t winding up for another hit.

You were hoping that someone else would say something. Maybe the waiter would come back and interrupt the moment. You were hoping that even maybe Bucky would finally respond and give him what he wants so this could just all stop. But he didn't, so John didn't stop.

And then, just as you feared, he took his shot. He was trying so desperately to get anything out of Bucky.

“You know, Barnes,” John mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, “I gotta say, man, I don’t know how you missed out on this.”

Your stomach dropped.

You knew what was coming before he even said it.

John turned his head, his lips grazing your ear as he squeezed your thigh beneath the table. “She looks even better without clothes on,” he said, low enough that only Bucky, and maybe Sam, could hear. “Seriously. Something must be wrong with you.”

A cold chill ran through your spine.

Bucky went completely still. His fingers no longer flexing on the glass.

It felt like the world had stopped moving.

John grinned, leaning back again. “So tell me, Buck—what exactly did you do wrong to never get your shot?” He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Didn’t have the balls to go for it?”

Sam shifted beside you, his posture stiffening. You weren’t sure if it was because of what John had said or because of the way Bucky was looking at him now, like a predator sizing up its prey. Bucky was letting him dig his own hole and he wanted so badly to bury him in it.

Then John’s smirk widened. He wasn’t done yet. He never was.

“Oh wait,” he said, snapping his fingers in faux realization. “Don’t answer that, you probably think you didn’t do anything wrong, huh? You just—what was it again?” He turned to you, pretending to think. “Oh, right. You completely cut her off when she told you she was moving. How pathetic is that?”

A sharp pain bloomed in your chest.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

John laughed under his breath, taking another sip of his drink before delivering the final blow.

“And then you never even called her when she lost both her parents,” he added, shaking his head. “Not one but two! Damn, man. I mean, I’d say what kind of friend are you? but…” He shrugged. “You guys aren’t friends anymore, right? You made sure of that.”

Silence.

Pure, deafening silence.

Your heart was in your throat.

John’s words hung in the air like poison, thick and suffocating. The weight of them settled over the table, pressing down like a storm cloud about to break.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

And then—

Bucky finally blinked. He took a sip of his beer.

Slowly, he set his drink down on the table with a deliberate clink.

His knuckles were white against the glass.

His shoulders rose and fell in a slow, measured breath.

But when he lifted his eyes to John, there was nothing playful in them. No amusement. No restraint.

Just ice.

And something dangerous.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

John, for the second time that night, hesitated.

It was barely noticeable—a small twitch of his fingers, the slightest flicker of uncertainty behind his smirk.

But Bucky saw it.

You knew Bucky saw it.

And you thought he was going to hit him. That he was going to lunge across the table. A part of you wanted him to.

The tension stretched impossibly thin, so thick it was hard to breathe.

Then..

“Buck,” Steve said, his voice low. A warning.

Bucky didn’t look at him. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

He just stared.

And somehow, somehow—that was worse.

Sam exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Man, you’re really pushing your luck tonight,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for his drink trying to ease the tension.

John chuckled again, but it wasn’t as effortless this time. He clapped a hand on your thigh one more time before finally leaning back, his smirk settling back into place.

His jaw was tight, his grip on his glass even tighter, but his eyes—his eyes—were locked onto John like he was seconds away from standing up and putting him through the damn table.

Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.

You weren’t sure if you were more afraid of what John would say next or what Bucky would do in response. Either way, the air felt charged, volatile, like something was going to snap.

And then, Bucky’s gaze flickered, just for a second, to you.

He saw the look on your face.

The way your fingers were curled into your lap, nails pressing deep into your skin.

The silent plea in your eyes.

And just like that, the tension in his shoulders dropped just slightly, the fire in his expression dimming just enough to see you.

You swallowed thickly, turning to John who was opening his mouth, again. Dragging in a shaky breath before reaching out, your fingers wrapping around John’s forearm.

“Stop,” you said quietly.

John barely glanced at you. “Stop what?”

You squeezed a little tighter. “John,” you said, your voice lower now, more desperate. “Stop this.”

John finally looked at you then, turning his body toward you slightly, his eyes narrowing. His smirk was gone. In its place, something colder, something more dangerous.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he murmured, his voice a quiet taunt. “Come on, honey. Where are your manners?”

You stiffened.

John tilted his head, his smirk returning. “Say it nicely,” he pressed, his fingers ghosting over your thigh under the table. “Try ‘please stop, John’.”

The words stuck in your throat.

The way he was looking at you, so smug, so in control, made you feel sick. You hated how easily he could do this, how effortlessly he could turn your voice into something that barely belonged to you anymore.

Your lips parted, just barely, ready to force the words out—

And then Bucky’s voice cut through the air.

“Don’t.”

John’s head snapped up, his entire body going rigid.

Slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Are you telling my girl what to do?”

That was it.

The final line drawn in the sand.

Before anyone could say another word, Steve pushed his chair back with enough force to make it scrape against the floor. His tone was sharp, decisive. Done.

“Okay,” Steve said firmly. “That’s enough. I don’t know what’s going on here, but this—” He gestured between Bucky and John. “—is not happening. Not tonight.”

Bucky didn’t move.

Didn’t take his eyes off John.

Didn’t blink.

Steve exhaled sharply before turning to Bucky. “Buck, let’s go.”

Bucky didn’t respond, not right away. You could see the war in his expression, the sheer force of restraint it took for him to tear his gaze away from John.

But when he finally did, when his blue eyes landed on you again, his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache.

He wasn’t just looking at you. He was asking.

Are you going to be okay?

You wanted to answer.

Wanted to say yes.

Wanted to say no.

Wanted to say please don’t go.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you looked down.

Bucky’s jaw tightened again, but he didn’t push it.

He just let out a slow, measured breath before finally stepping away from the table.

Steve followed.

A few of the other players, ones who had been too far away to hear what had really gone down, called out casual goodbyes, still laughing about something completely unrelated. They had no idea.

And then, just like that, Bucky was gone.

John exhaled through his nose, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the audacity. Then, without another glance at you, he pulled his arm from your grip and stood, scooting down the table to where some of the other guys sat.

Like nothing had happened.

Like you weren’t even there.

Laughter bubbled from the other side of the table, casual, easygoing.

Meanwhile, on your side, it was just you and Sam.

The silence between you was suffocating.

You swallowed hard, staring at the candle in the middle of the table like it might give you some kind of answer, some kind of out.

And then, barely above a whisper you spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Sam frowned. “I can’t stress this enough, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Your throat tightened. You blinked rapidly, a single tear slipping free before you could stop it. You wiped it away quickly, but Sam saw.

He saw.

And he didn’t look away.

For a few more seconds, you just sat there, staring at nothing, the weight in your chest making it hard to breathe. Then, suddenly, the air in the restaurant felt like too much, too hot, too stifling, too heavy.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” you said abruptly, pushing your chair back.

John’s head snapped up immediately. “What?”

You turned to him. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just head back early.”

John frowned, standing before you could even move. He grabbed your wrist, hard, his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you flinch.

“You going by yourself?” he asked, voice low.

Sam saw.

His entire body went stiff beside you.

“I figured you wanted to stay, don’t you?” you asked John carefully, testing the waters.

John let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he finally, finally, released his grip. “Of course I do,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward his teammates. “I’m here with my buddies.”

The guys around him laughed, completely oblivious to the way the moment had just unfolded.

John turned back to you, smirking. “Wait up for me?”

You nodded mechanically. “Of course.”

His smirk widened. “That’s my girl.”

And then, without warning, he yanked you down, crushing his lips to yours.

It wasn’t a kiss.

It was a claim.

A reminder.

It was too much, too hard, too aggressive, too something but you let him do it anyway. You always did.

When he finally pulled away, he flashed you one last smile before smacking your ass, earning a laugh from the other guys and turning back to the conversation like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just bruised your wrist.

Like he hadn’t just stolen the air from your lungs.

Like he hadn’t just won.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to move, forcing yourself to leave before you made the mistake of looking back.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky banres #james bucky barnes

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coff33andb00ks · 10 months ago

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American Idiot - LS

American Idiot pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader summary: rule #1: don't fall in love. rule #2: don't break rule #1. rule #3: you broke both rules didn't you? word count: 3567 warnings: smut (18+ only), not proofread, Logan has a bit of a frat guy attitude in parts, mentions of past sexual assault (non explicit) {your mental health is more important than any engagement I get on this, so please don't read if that is a triggering subject for you ❤️} a.n.: here I wrote a happy thing for logan

"Yes, baby, just like that," he moaned, gripping her hips tighter. He wanted to watch her but his eyes slipped shut and he dug his fingers into her skin. "Gonna make me cum."

Y/n suddenly lifted off him, causing his eyes to snap open. Her face was screwed up and at first he thought she was in the middle of cumming, but she let out a pained whine and he decided that couldn't be it.

"What," he gasped, wincing when her knee slammed into his hip as she collapsed next to him.

"Cramp," she whimpered. She lay on her side, almost perfectly still, leg bent at the knee while she lightly punched the mattress. "Fuck."

Logan exhaled harshly and dragged a hand over his face before shifting, sitting up. He could see her calf muscle clenched, lightly spasming under her skin and winced. "It's okay, I've got you."

"There's nothing you can – ow!" she cried out when he gently grasped her ankle and extended her leg. Immediately she was trying to bend it back but he kept it straight. "Logan, no, it hurts!"

"Relax, let me rub it out," he said softly, cupping his other hand over her calf. He began to massage, keeping his touch light at first while she pressed her face into the pillow and nearly screeched in pain. "Y/n, just breathe—"

"Fuck you," she whimpered. "I'm never riding you again. I always get a leg cramp."

"Because you don't stretch," he pointed out, applying more pressure.

She just turned her head and looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, just waiting for you say you expect me to stretch you."

"I thought it went without saying."

She tried to kick him, hissing and tensing at the pressure it put on her cramp. "It's not working, Logan."

"I've been doing it for thirty seconds," he sighed. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. "Please just relax, okay?"

She exhaled slowly. "It hurts, Logie."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll never ask you to be on top again," he assured her, feeling the cramp starting to loosen. She whined and he was quick to shush her. "Breathe, baby."

She did, slowly and deeply, occasionally groaning in pain as he manipulated the muscle. "Sorry for ruining the sex."

"We can try later," he said with a shrug.

"Maybe I have plans."

"Do you?" he asked. He would be surprised if she did. She tended to stay in on a Saturday night, getting her drinks and partying done on Fridays so she could enjoy the weekend.

"No," she mumbled. "Do you?"

"Only thing I'm doing tonight is you."

She laughed at that, humming when he bent and straightened her knee. "Were you really about to cum?"

"Yeah, but it's fine." It wasn't as though she'd leave him hanging. It was the whole reason behind their arrangement: neither party leaves a meeting unsatisfied.

She'd typed out the agreement in full legalese. Then she'd presented it to him as though arguing a case in front of a jury. Complete with a sexy suit that had only encouraged him to agree and sign so they could get to business.

"Mm," she moaned.

"Better?" He already knew the answer. Her muscle was fully relaxed now, though he was sure it would be sore for a while. She nodded and he kissed her cheek again before sliding off the bed to throw away the wasted condom.

"Thanks, Logie," she murmured when he rejoined her in the bed. She scooted over, hissing softly as she lifted her leg to drape it over his. "Just give me a few minutes."

Her few minutes turned into an hour long nap but he didn't complain. Content to lie with her, he smoothed her hair while she slept, a little amused. She'd been his friend for years, and if anyone had told him even two years before he'd be sleeping with her regularly he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, and as he reached for the covers to pull over them it occurred to him that if he couldn't have sex with her when she woke up he wouldn't be too upset.

"You're so busy with racing, you can't spare time to make an emotional connection with someone enough to sleep with them. I'm busy with work and I'd rather kiss a frog on live tv than let some loser I meet at the club fuck me. It makes perfect sense."

It did, so he'd agreed. Maybe she caught him in a lonely moment, or an extremely horny one. Maybe she'd caught him during a dry spell. Either way, he'd agreed to become platonic lovers with her.

Friends with benefits.

Fuck buddies.

Booty calls.

She'd been right, it was beneficial. He was usually so sexually satisfied that when he met someone he could see as a potential mate, he could focus on actually getting to know them as opposed to getting them in bed. And, having met her coworkers and more than a few of the losers that went to the clubs she did, he knew he had to be a better option than what she had around regularly.

"No falling in love. We're friends, nothing more. No jealousy. If you find someone to love I'll be over the moon, and if I find someone you'll be happy. No unprotected sex. I don't want to be a mom before I'm 25 and you're not ready to be a dad. We both agree to regularly get tested if we sleep with other people. And, lastly, if one of us wants to end the arrangement we end it. Most importantly, we remain friends."

At first it had been amazing. Guaranteed pussy whenever he wanted or needed it? He'd been sold on the idea before she'd even finished the suggestion. If he was away for a race he could just call or FaceTime her for a quick phone sex session?

Amazing.

No pressure. No worries. He didn't have to deal with the girlfriend stuff. He didn't have to remember important dates or to pick up something for her on his travels. She didn't expect him to be her date to work events or to go around pretending to care about the stuff she wanted to buy.

And they still hung out. Sometimes before, sometimes after. Nothing had changed at all in their friendship. She still called him out for being a douchebag, he still insulted her music taste, they still laughed while watching stupid movies.

It was, he thought, like having a girlfriend without all the work.

Until, suddenly, it was different.

He didn't know why he'd bought the stuffed animal in Miami. Probably because she'd said she liked eagles. And it had an American flag shirt on which made it even better in his opinion. But he'd bought it, he'd shown it to Oscar, who'd groaned and laughed and called him painfully American, he'd packed it in his suitcase for the trip back to England.

And he was watching her take it out of the gift bag now, a big stupid grin on his face when she began to laugh.

"Oh my god I love it," she said, hugging it to her chest then hugging him.

That was why he'd bought it, he thought a few minutes later when she was on her knees, staring up at him with pure lust in her eyes. And then he noticed that she kept it on her bed.

She went to Switzerland for something work related. He didn't know what, because she'd told him right before going down on him. They FaceTimed when they could during the two weeks she was out of the country, and when she got back she had a gift for him.

A cuckoo clock.

He loved it and laughed every time it went off, and felt a little rush of warmth because she'd thought of him. It turned out she hated it, because it had a knack for cuckooing loudly just when she was about to come, but he made up for that. At least, going by the way she'd murmur yay when he went down on her.

"So today marks the anniversary of the worst day of my life," she announced one summer afternoon as she walked into his place.

Logan grunted when she pushed her shopping bag at him. "Which worst day?" he asked, closing the door. "When you got dumped by that dickhead Dave?"

"No, that was in November."

"When you caught your boss cheating?" He peered into the bag and set it down, following her to the sofa.

"That was January, and that wasn't a worst day, just a weird day. Like, bad because he can't keep it in his pants but also good because I got a raise." Kicking off her shoes, she flopped onto the sofa.

He racked his brains, going over as many of her worst days as he could recall. The time she'd gotten food poisoning in Brighton? Apparently that had been in March. The time a guy got sick on her in the club? October, how could he forget? The asshole had ruined her costume. Groaning, he threw his head back in defeat, realizing he was rubbing her feet. "You gotta help me out, babe."

"Wow, you did forget." She sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. "And I thought you weren't like other guys? Do you even love me, Logan?"

"I'm rubbing your gross feet—"

"They're not gross I just had a pedicure this – Fuck you," she snorted when he laughed.

"I'm rubbing your amazing feet," he corrected with a roll of his eyes. "The most beautiful feet in the world—"

"Ew, don't make it weird." She lowered her arm and sat up. "But really? You don't remember?"

"No… Wait, was it that time the guy came before you could put the condom on?"

"No, it's – Actually that's next week. Do you know I saw him a few days ago? He pretended he didn't know who I was."

"You made the guy cum in seconds, y/n."

"Okay, and? I made you cum in a minute thirty and you still talk to me."

"You…" He tipped his head. "You timed it?"

"It's my personal best. Aside from Preemie Pete but he doesn't really count because I didn't even do anything to him except grind on him—"

"What's my nickname?" Logan asked suddenly.

"Logie?" She looked confused. "Logie Bear."

"No, no, my nickname. Preemie Pete, Dickhead Dave. You called that guy you met at the store Sainsbury's Steve and the firefighter was Fireman Fred. What do you call me when you talk about me with the girls?"

"That's classified information. I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you, as you are not one of the girls."

"Bullshit, because you've told me all the others," he pointed out. "Go on, tell me."

"Logie—"

"I'm not like Car Guy am I? Because that—"

"Wishbone."

He stopped rubbing her feet, fully turning to face her. "Wishbone?"

"Yeah. Wishbone." She swung her feet to the floor and moved to stand. "We still doing dinner?"

He grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. "Why Wishbone?"

"It's stupid," she groaned, pretending to fight against his hold. "All the nicknames are stupid, they don't really mean – When I first told them about you we'd just met and I said I wished the stupid American would bone me, okay?"

He let her go, even more confused now. "But I have."

"Yes," she said slowly, getting to her feet. "Many times."

"Then why am I still a wish?"

"Well they don't know you're fucking me." She shrugged, grabbing up her bag and heading to the kitchen.

He let that marinate in his brain for a minute before getting up to follow her. "Why don't they know?"

"I don't tell th… Right, I do tell them everything. But they know I was super into you back then and if they found out that you're the only guy I'm sleeping with they'd never stop teasing me. Chicken or salmon?"

"Chicken." She'd been into him back when they met? He tried to remember, to see if he could recall any obvious signs she'd wanted him then, but couldn't. Could only remember her rolling her eyes and looking annoyed when he talked about anything.

But he did remember—

"Oh, y/n," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I'm okay," she said quickly. "It was years ago. I'm pretty much over it."

"Don't lie to make me feel better." Because she did. Especially when it came to that. Pretty much over it. Rarely think about it. So far in the past it's hardly worth mentioning. But it was the reason she still slept with a light on. The reason she never went out alone at night. The reason she was wary of new men entering her life. The reason she was hyper aware of her surroundings in public, always mapping out an escape route if needed. It was one of the reasons behind her need to joke and laugh about everything, because she had to keep people liking her. It was the reason she spent so many of her precious days off working with the sexual abuse charity, willing to tell her horror over and over again so girls with similar cruelties would feel seen and understood.

He hadn't known her then. Would never know what she'd been like before her innocence and faith in humanity had been fractured. He only knew her as the woman she was. Fierce and protective and stronger than anyone he would ever know. He often wished he didn't know what had happened to her on that horrible night, but felt honored that she trusted him enough to share that side of her life with him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. She shook her head.

"Can we cook together?" she whispered.

"Of course." He hesitated, finally reaching to squeeze her shoulder. She lifted her head and he saw the tears shining in her eyes. She may not have wanted to talk about it, may have wanted him to just step away and wash his hands or whatever, but he pulled her to him, tucking his chin on her head while he held her, keeping silent while she let herself cry.

Wishing he could meet the monster face to face for just ten minutes.

He held her until her shoulders stopped shaking, until she sniffled and let go of his shirt. Pressing a kiss into her hair, he let go and offered to turn on music, making sure to pull up the playlist of songs that were cheerful and lighthearted. They cooked, or rather she cooked while he stood to the side to hand her things and clean up, and ate on the couch, watching her favorite movie.

And he realized it was his favorite movie now.

She stayed the night and he didn't care that she didn't want sex. Didn't care that she pulled her stuffed eagle out of her bag and held it close while he got ready for bed. Didn't care that the lamp was on. He was just happy to be there for her, to hold her while she fell asleep and then lie there watching her sleep. Even rocks needed support sometimes.

And it struck him – a full two months later – that he looked forward to just seeing her more than he looked forward to the sex. She'd become more than his best friend, more than his hookup, and he panicked constantly that he'd somehow let on that he'd broken the first rule of their arrangement.

But he had the feeling she knew, especially when he went straight to her office after flying in from Singapore to see her instead of going straight home to sleep off the jet leg. Her eyes lit up and she smiled brighter than the weak sun ever could, and when she hugged him tight and told him she'd missed him he knew she meant it.

"Dinner tomorrow?" he asked before leaving. The answer was yes and, no longer exhausted or feeling mediocre as he sometimes did after a race, he went home with a smile on his face.

She showed up at his door with that bright smile and oohed and aahed over the candles and the flowers. Teased him for being a try hard for wearing a suit and kissed his cheek.

Dinner might have tasted divine. Or it might have tasted like sawdust. He would never know.

"Logie?"

God, she was beautiful. Always had been, he realized, wondering why he'd been so blind until just recently. But tonight, in her light blue dress and her eyes sparkling in the candlelight, she was stunning.

Heartbreakingly so. Because she would only ever be his friend.

"Yeah?" he finally murmured, realizing he was staring.

She stood up and left the table, coming back with her purse. Pulling out some papers, she sat down and bit her lip. "We need to talk."

Never a good thing when a woman said that. Swallowing hard, he took a sip of water to push down the lump in his throat. "About what?"

"You remember this?" She held up the papers and he nodded, seeing the contract she'd typed up and printed out for them both to sign.

"You want to end it?" he asked, anxiety curling in his chest, embarrassment heating his face at the way his voice cracked mid-sentence. Had she met someone?

"I think we need to," she said with a frown.

"Wh-why?" God, she'd met someone and hadn't told him and even worse, she'd fallen in love and now he'd be alone—

"I broke rule number one," she blurted.

"We don't have to end it," he said. "Rules get broken all the time. We can work it out—"

"Logie—"

"I can't go back to random meaningless hookups anymore. I can't go back to models that don't know their ass from a hole in the ground—"

She let out a sharp giggle at that, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Logan!"

"I can't do it, y/n. Not when I've had the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm not even talking about the sex, it's just… We've spent more time together and I know I wasn't supposed to but I did it anyway because my heart's stupid I guess. I can't just go back to nothing with you—"

"Do you even remember what rule number one was?" she cut in, staring at him with wide eyes.

He froze, blinking slowly. "The one about protection, right?"

"Oh my god," she groaned, slapping her palm to her forehead. "No, Logan. Of course you don't remember. But you do, because you always remember everything, like how I need to sleep with a light on and can't watch horror movies after dark and that I only like white wine even if I'm eating red meet. You play the part of a fucking idiot so well because it shields you from people wanting to get too close and knowing the real you, like you're not the greatest thing America's made since chocolate chip cookies. Like you don't have a heart bigger than Texas."

"Um, y/n—"

"Which is exactly why I broke the stupid fucking rule that I made, because how could I not?" She threw the papers down and covered her face with both hands. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know? But I fucking did it, I fell for you, because the only bad thing about you is your annoying American pride."

"Y/n—"

"And it took everything in me to tell you this, but at least now I know you don't want to change this. You're happy just being fuck buddies and I have to be okay with it because I was the goddamned idiot that wrote the rules—"

"I love you too," he blurted.

She stopped. Lowered her hands. And stared at him.

"I love you," he said softly. "Always have, I think. I just… Never realized it until I wasn't supposed to."

"When did you know?" she whispered.

He sighed, shrugging one shoulder. He couldn't tell her. It would be embarrassing to admit he'd been holding it in since—

"Miami?" she asked.

"Oh come on, how could you know that?"

"Logan Hunter Sargeant, you brought me a stuffed eagle. You hate stuffed animals!"

"Yeah, but I love you."

She stared at him for a few seconds. Then, to his confusion, she began to laugh.

His favorite sound, followed very closely by her moan.

"Oh god, Logie," she giggled.

"When did you know?" he asked once she'd stopped laughing.

"When you left for Miami and I cried because I couldn't go with you," she said.

"God, we're both idiots," he muttered. Then he sat up straight. "Wait, hey, you said… You love me?"

She laughed again, nodding, and stayed laughing while he grabbed the papers and ripped them in half. And was still giggling when he pulled her to her feet and caught her in a sweet kiss.

"And we did break the protection rule," he whispered a lifetime later when they pulled apart.

"You pulled out, doesn't count."

"That's not in the rules."

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. "There aren't any rules anymore, Wishbone."

~end~

#f1 #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #logan sargeant smut #logan sargeant x reader #my writings > ls

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ineffableigh · 1 year ago

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Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!

This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."

His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.

This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying

"WE NEED HELP."

Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:

Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."

"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."

After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.

"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.

"Like the old times, only even NICER!"

The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?

Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.

After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.

He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"You idiot. We could have been us."

Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.

OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS

Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:

Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.

Having seen all that, my best guess now is:

Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.

Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.

Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.

Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."

"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.

Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.

Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.

Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.

This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.

My heart hurts, ow.

#aziraphale #crowley #the metatron #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #good omens meta

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miamooooo · 3 months ago

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josh knows chris has a not-so-subtle crush on his girlfriend. and what's a more josh way to address the situation than teasing his best friend about it in the most unpredictable way?

(warnings): nsfw, phone sex, voyeurism, reader has female anatomy, pronouns for reader are mentioned (she/her), josh is possessive and has an odd way of showing it, slightly proofread!

everyone knows that you and josh are exclusive because he flaunts you around like a trophy any time he can. but just because that's the case, that doesn't stop his best friend, chris, from ogling you every now and again. and it really couldn't go unnoticed by josh because he notices everything.. especially when it comes to his pretty little girlfriend. and chris has been his best friend since elementary school..! he'd be an absolute idiot to not notice.

josh is up to no good when he finally gets a quiet night with just himself and chris in their dorm. they're both casually talking and drinking at their second bottle of beer. while josh is taking another sip, he's nodding along to whatever chris is talking about, just itching to finally press him about you. and luckily it doesn't take long because the chatter slowly dies down and josh immediately takes advantage of that.

"so," he casually started, "i finally got that text earlier. said she misses me."

chris tries to act cool about it, his gaze averting from his best friend’s as he stares down at the half empty beer bottle in his hand. "oh yeah? that's cool man.."

josh tilted his head and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he watches chris for a moment. he tries to hide the smile in his voice as he asks, "you ever think about her?"

chris isn't stupid. and he'd never overstep a boundary with his best friend. he forces a laugh, a very uncomfortable one, before defending himself. "what? nah, man.. she's your girl."

and yeah, chris isn't stupid, but neither is josh. "oh, come on, dude! don't act like you haven't noticed how hot she is. i see the way you look at her sometimes."

chris finally met josh's gaze again, seeing if he was joking. was it really that obvious..? he tries to shrug it off, the subtle and nervous bouncing of his leg giving away more than he intended. "i have no idea what you're talking about."

josh was silent for a moment, watching the slight panic on his best friend's face, but he quietly dismisses it, laughing to himself as he leans back in his chair. "relax, cochise! just messin' with you, man."

that was a lie. not even a minute later, josh is picking up his phone, tapping the screen a few times before setting it down in his lap and putting it on speaker.

chris's heart dropped. “hey— dude, what are you doing?”

josh quietly sits as the phone rings a few more times before you answer, the sound of your sleepy voice coming through. "hi, babe. is everything okay?"

josh's heart flutters at your pretty little voice and he can't help but smile when he answers you. "yeah, hon. everything's fine... just wanted to check in on my pretty girl."

the soft laugh on the other end makes chris’s face heat up and he hates the effect that you, his best friend's girlfriend, has on him. "oh, yeah i'm okay. i was just getting ready to go to bed."

"wait, before you do that," josh quickly interrupts, locking eyes with chris. "can you do something for me?"

you pause before speaking through the other end. "okay... what is it?" you ask, your voice laced with genuine confusion and curiosity.

"can you touch yourself for me?"

the room goes completely silent, and chris is staring at his best friend in disbelief, before quietly shaking his head in protest.

".. right now?" you softly ask, slightly sitting up in your comfy bed, already making up your mind.

"yeah, sweetheart.. right now."

"okay, baby... if you say so," you teasingly sigh in the phone, the sound going straight into chris's pants.

chris felt so guilty for this. you didn't even know he was there. he wanted to leave. he didn't feel comfortable sitting there anymore. but here he is, continuing to listen in with a slight hard-on in his pants just from hearing your voice.

you slip your hand into the waistband of your panties, sliding your fingers between your folds before finding your clit. you let out a faint and shaky breath as you start to rub slow and gentle circles.

"bring the phone closer, hon," josh gently instructs. "let me hear you."

"mh, okay.." you whimper softly, bringing the phone back up to your ear so he can hear you properly.

josh groans approvingly at your hushed moans. "tell me what you're doing right now."

"i'm— mmh.. rubbing myself.." you quietly moan, closing your eyes as you imagine that it's josh's fingers making you feel good.

"mm, go faster for me," josh urges, gently palming himself through his pants as he listens to your pretty gasps and moans. "tell me how it feels."

chris shifts uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, trying to subtly cover the growing erection in his pants. he looked at the floor, swirling the beer bottle in his hand as he tries to block out you and josh's conversation, but he couldn't. the noises were getting so much louder— your shaky breaths, and those subtle wet noises of your fingers moving against your cunt only made chris more distracted. he shouldn't be listening to this.

"oh gosh, feels so good," you whine, letting your head fall back against your headboard as you circle your fingers over your swollen clit faster, the wet sounds only growing louder. "wish you were here..."

"i know, hon," josh murmurs, "just listen to my voice."

josh glances over at chris and he can't help the knowing smile that faintly shows on his face. oh he was enjoying every second of this; teasing his best friend and getting to hear his pretty girlfriend moan and touch herself over the phone. this might just be his favorite event of the week!

"mmm..! fuck, i'm so close," you whine softly, your pussy drooling and clenching around nothing as you buck your hips up against your fingers.

josh groans at your heavy breathing and it takes everything in his power not to pull his cock out and finish with you. "fuck.. yeah, babe? gonna cum for me?"

"mhm..! i'm gonna—" your words are cut off by a loud whimper, your orgasm hitting you hard. your slick is spreading all over your fingers and clit as you continue rubbing frantically, whining out josh's name.

chris is so turned on now. he could feel his precum staining his boxers and he's too embarrassed to even look at his best friend knowing this. but josh is so satisfied, chris has no idea. he quietly picks up his phone and turns off the speaker.

"good girl. you were so good for me," he praises softly, smiling to himself at your breathy whimpers. "get some sleep. i'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

you nod your head, feeling drowsier than you were before. "mhm, okay.. i love you."

josh quickly wraps up his phone call with you before hanging up, setting the phone down and turning to chris. "well? what'd you think?"

chris forces out a small, breathy laugh in disbelief. " dude.. that was insane."

"oh yeah? looked like you were enjoying it to me." josh quietly says before taking another swig at his beer... but there's a bit of uneasiness as he watches the flushed look on his best friend's face. he makes a mental note to himself to never fucking do that again.

#until dawn josh #josh washington #josh washington smut #until dawn smut #josh washington x reader #until dawn x reader #rami malek x reader #joshua washington #until dawn headcanons #chris hartley #chris hartley x reader #until dawn remake #christopher hartley #noah fleiss x reader #until dawn chris #chris hartley smut

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alottiegoingon · 1 year ago

Text

golden rule

lucy maclean x gn!reader

summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.

warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread

"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."

"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.

you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"

even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.

"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.

"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.

you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.

"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.

as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.

"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.

you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?

"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"

against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-

"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.

"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.

you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.

you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.

eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.

you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.

"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."

"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.

a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.

"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.

"good morning to you too, sunshine!"

you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.

"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.

lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.

"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.

thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.

"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.

"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.

you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"

a dilapidated house.

lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.

"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.

you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.

so, funny or not, you laughed.

"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.

"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.

you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.

"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.

"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.

"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.

you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.

everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.

everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.

you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.

"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.

"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.

and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.

the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.

"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.

"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.

the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.

"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.

#lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader #fallout

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jksprincess10 · 9 months ago

Text

You just leave it up to me, we could have a good time || Eddie Munson x f!reader

A/N: Thank you to the discord server friends who helped me out with this !!!

Summary: You reunite with Eddie at the hideout, and he confesses that he's still a virgin. You're more than willing to help.

CW: No y/n, no physical descriptions of reader, sub!eddie, virgin!eddie, mentions of drinking, implied small age gap (reader is around 2 years older) awkward idiots, bad DND jokes, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v, premature ejaculation.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

"That's it Eddie, you're being such a good boy." You slur, drunk on pleasure as you hold up his hair in a ponytail to keep it from getting wet. Eddie slurps energetically on your pussy, encouraged by your kind praises.

It had all started when you reunited with Eddie at The Hideout. After you had graduated - and he had been held back again, you found yourself busy with college life and you rarely saw him, albeit living in a small town.

But a night in a shitty small-town bar led to so much more.

You had forgotten how beautiful he was. And on the stage, guitar in hands, he simply looked in control. You wanted to make him loose it.

"That was really good." You said as you offered him a drink after he went off stage.

He looked at you, and it took a few seconds until he recognized you, his gaze lighting up as he found your name.

"Oh shit! You were at my school, right? One year ahead of me?" He took the drink in his hand, and you couldn't help but notice the rings on his hand. Your eyes slipped from his fingers, then to his big, brown eyes before he caught you staring.

"Yup."

You got to talking and a few drinks later, your tongues had gone loose.

"Did you finally graduate?" You asked, eyebrow raised.

"I did. I'm just... figuring things out right now. Still a virgin loser, though." He chuckled and lifted his drink for a toast.

"You'd think being a guitarist would help." You laughed and hit your glass against his for a mock-toast. "I can help, though."

"... what?"

"I can fix this." Your fingers grazed his, and his gaze darkened as he looked at you.

"Fuck it, let's go."

"This is my humble apartment." You said as you welcomed him in.

Eddie looked around with a smile on his face.

"Nice. D'you mind if I... freshen up?"

" 'Course not. I like my men clean."

You pointed him to the bathroom, and you waited in your bedroom, undressing to your underwear and your bra. You felt giddy and nervous as you waited for him. When Eddie came out, he was only clad in his boxers, black with a dungeon and dragons log printed a few times.

"Hi." He said awkwardly.

You rose and walked towards him, placing your hands against his chest.

"Hi." You smiled at him, big and sincere. "Can I kiss you?"

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, and you wrapped your hands around his neck to angle his face towards your mouth. He tasted like cheap beer and Chapstick. His lips were surprisingly soft and when he held your waist, you could feel his confidence building. You licked and tugged at his bottom lip until he let you in, you glided your tongue into his mouth. His moans vibrating in your mouth went straight to your core. You pushed him to your unmade, messy bed, and he supported his upper body with his forearms as he looked at you, astounded.

"It's my fucking lucky day, damn." He said, voice rough as he wrapped a hand around your neck, bringing you down to him. You felt his cold rings on your warm skin. Eddie looked you up and down, taking you in, like you were some kind of beautiful dream or perhaps, the type of hallucination he would have on drugs.

"You know, I always thought you were cute." You confessed as you kissed the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to flatter my ego."

"It's true." You pulled back his hair to look at his face, then your fingers trailed down his chest, lean, with sparse hair and faded tattoos that looked like they were made with a single needle and pen ink.

"Now Eddie, do you know how to please a lady?" You asked in a sultry voice, the pad of your fingers tracing the vague shape of a tattoo that had blown out.

"In... theory." He responded, unsure.

"Do you want me to show you?"

The boy nodded his head a few times, and kissed your forehead as you swapped your positions, pulling him on top of you.

"Just take your time." You took his hands in yours and guided them to the back of your bra. He unclasped it with surprising ease and pulled it down your arms, after tossing it on the floor. "Hey! This shit's expensive, Munson." You joked, falsely offended.

"I'll buy you a new one." He seemed hypnotized by the sight of your breasts. You leaded his hands on your skin, letting him touch, pinch and explore. "Beautiful." He muttered to himself.

"You're cute." You let out without really thinking. You shouldn't get too attached. He smiled shyly, his cheeks red.

"Can you show me how to eat you out? Please?"

"Asking so nicely, like a good boy."

Your words stirred something unknown inside of him and went right to his cock. You could see the online of it through his thin boxers, and you unconsciously licked your lips.

You slid down your panties and opened up your legs for him.

"Go ahead. Spread my lips, lick around until you find my clit."

Eddie's fingers followed your lead, spreading you open. His tongue explored your slit, shyly at first, and when the tip of the wet muscle found your bundle of nerves, he became more confident. You encouraged him with soft praises and moans.

He looked up at you with big, innocent eyes, watching each and every one of your expressions.

"You can suck, graze your teeth... you can be messy. Can you hear how wet you're making me? Do you wanna feel it too?"

“Y-Yes, I hear it.” Eddie whispered against your soaked cunt, the warmth of his mouth heightening with your sensitivity.

Eddie's tongue circled your clit, fast, then slow, before sucking it into your mouth, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Slowly, two of his digits breach your hole, stopping at his rings. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod with a fucked-out smirk.

"P-Push them in and out while you keep eating my pussy. Curl your fingers until… you feel something spongey." It was getting difficult to give him instructions as you were blinded by your own pleasure.

As he follows your directions, you arch your back and you gasp when he found the right spot, pulling on his hair tightly.

"R-Right there, oh god Eddie. "

He doubles in fervor and enthusiasm until your legs are shaking and you're gushing on his fingers. You let his hair go, and he sits back on his knees as if to look at a beautiful painting; pussy glistening with your come and his spit.

"You did so fucking good, Eddie." You look up at him as he overs over your body, biting your lip. When you looked down at his crotch, you can see the wetness in his boxers, until you meet his glazed eyes.

"Take this off. I wanna please you."

He lowers his boxers until they rest under his balls. Eddie's cock is red and leaking, his balls, tight. When you wrap your hand around him, he almost looks startled.

"Hey... I'm sorry baby."

"N-No it's just. I might fucking come on the spot if you touch me. Shit."

"It's okay. Tell me what you need." You caress the light stubble on his cheek.

"I-I want to fuck you. If that's okay." Eddie stutters as he pulls his underwear all the way down.

"Of course." Your hand finds a condom in your side table drawer, and you hand it to him. Eddie tears it open with his teeth and unwraps it on his erect cock.

"I'm not... really sure how to do this or-"

You lay a hand on his torso and push him against the bed. "Let me take over." You sit on his lap, and he looks up at you in pure wonder. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and you descend on him slowly. He takes in a sharp, shaky breath.

"So fucking tight. Fuck." He curses, his hands taking place on your waist. When your thighs are flush with his, you give him a few seconds to adjust to the new feeling. "Kiss me. Please." He says needily. You could never refuse anything to this man. You bend down and latch your lips onto his, taking the opportunity to move your hips slowly. He groans into your mouth.

You use your hands to support your upper body, laying your palms against his chest as you jump up and down on his cock, faster. Eddie is a babbling mess under you, thrusting his hips against yours. When you feel him unintentionally hitting that deep spot inside of you, you cry out his name.

"I'm s-sorry... I- I can't last."

"S'okay baby boy. You can come. It's normal on the first time." You say between heavy breaths. Eddie's hips keeps thrusting in a disorganized rhythm, until he stops, deep inside of you. He moans as he comes, so hard until he sees stars.

"Well, that was a fucking NAT 1 on performance." He says as you pull off him. His forearm lays against his forehead as he catches his breath. You snort as you get off him.

"You made me come, so that's better than 90% of dudes. You need anything?"

"Water. Please."

You nod and go to the bathroom, before coming back with two glasses of fresh water that you leave on your bedside table.

Eddie has already discarded the condom and is back in his boxers. "Huh I should... go."

"You can stay. If... if you want."

You watch him drink the water, the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Sure. And... I can bring you on a date tomorrow? If you want." He repeats.

You lay on the bed and smile at him. "Yes. Of course Eddie. Let's go on a date."

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x reader

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paigebuckets6 · 10 months ago

Text

Number One Pick

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x reader

Genre: Homoerotic friendship, cheating, smut, angst + comfort ending.

Summary: You want Caitlin to pick you over her boyfriend Connor, just once.

Warnings: Smut with plot! Fingering, name calling/pet names, teasing, mild degradation

The game against Chicago Sky was close.

Caitlin had been booked and busy lately, playing 11 games in 20 days. This was the second game you were able to attend in person, as the only other had been her very first game of the season.

During the third quarter, you watch Chennedy Carter knock Caitlin to the ground while waiting for an inbound pass. You scream "flagrant foul!" with the rest of your section, but the refs declare it an away-from-ball foul.

It doesn't end up mattering anyway, though, cause the game ends 71 to 70.

The crowd is roaring, and you're cheering as loud as you can, watching the pride all over Caitlin's face. This was Indiana Fever's second win of the season, so you can't help but grin like an idiot at Caitlin and her teammates all celebrating on the court, high fiving, and yelling.

After Caitlin finishes her after post-game interview, she picks you up into a bear hug, her eyes lit up with happiness.

"We won!!! I missed you so much y/n"

Caitlin buries her face in your neck and her hands linger on your waist for a few seconds longer than necessary before she puts you down. You smile at her, patting her back.

"Yeah, I saw!! You did so good"

Caitlin rubs her arm absent-mindedly,

"I'm tired as hell.. I think my ankle hurts from earlier, too."

You just smile, and grab her bag from her.

"Come on, I parked outside"

Normally Caitlin drives, but you know she's exhausted from tonight, so you drive. She falls asleep in the car, and while you're stopped at a stoplight, you watch the way her hair's fanned out prettily on the headrest. Her eyelashes are dark, creating crescent shadows under her eyes. She looks so tired, the dark circles much more prominent than you remember.

You pull up to Caitlin's hotel- you're staying with her for a few days. She's been lonely lately, and wanting you to come visit. After her game tomorrow against New York Liberty she'll have a few free days until her game against the Washington Mystics on the 7th.

You're shorter than Caitlin- most people were, considering she was 6'0, and certainly not as strong, so you can't pick her up in her sleep, but in this moment you wish you could.

"Caitlin, we're here"

She blinks groggily and gets out of the car, and you make it all the way upstairs before she just flops onto the bed.

"Ugghhhh.. sorry y/n, I know I asked you to come stay, but I'm just so wiped..."

Caitlin groans into her pillow as her phone starts blowing up with notifications. During games she keeps it off, but now that she's at the hotel and connected to wifi, everything's pouring in.

"Probably just Twitter covering the Carter foul.. bullshit"

She turns over onto her side, looking at you.

"Yeah I saw that, what the hell was that foul??"

Caitlin rubs her arm again and you scoot closer to her on the bed, checking for a bruise.

"Nothing, you're good- and man, maybe they'll reevaluate?"

Caitlin just kicks off her shoes, chucking them closer to the door.

"They asked me about it during the post-game interview.. whatever, honestly, we still won."

Just then, Caitlin's phone rings, high and shrill. Connor's name flashes on the screen, bold and large.

"Who- oh him"

She ignores the call, flipping her phone over.

"I'm gonna take a shower- hopefully I'll be less dead after that and dinner"

Caitlin walks away then, not bothering to even give her phone a second glance, as she pulls clothes out for her shower.

Around 20 minutes later you hear the water turn off and she comes out of the bathroom with her hair wet, in nothing but a tank top and shorts.

You shift your position on the bed at the sight of her, crossing your legs at the feeling.

Caitlin presses a knee into the mattress and stands with her arms out.

"Come here, I'm sleepy"

Your heart wrenches a little, you're sure you're half in love with Caitlin- and how could you not be. Whatever this is between you two, you refuse to label it as just friendship. You wish you could.

Even still, you crawl over and hug her waist, breathing in the scent of her fresh shampoo. Her head rests on top of yours, water droplets hitting the back of your shirt.

"You should eat something-"

You say, your words slightly muffled by her chest and shirt. Her hands are in your hair, tangled in the strands, combing gently.

"Yeahhhh.. about that"

Caitlin tilts your head up to look at her, her fingers cool under your jaw. You feel her switch her weight to her other leg, sliding her knee between your legs.

Her brown eyes are dark, desire dilating her pupils, and you feel yourself longing for her more than you'd like to admit. You feel the pull in your stomach and subconsciously your hands grip her waist a little tighter as you stare at her.

You know what's gonna happen, even though you've told yourself over and over again to not let it happen. To just be friends, to set some boundaries, because she's got Connor and you can't just keep doing this, that she'd never pick you over him. But you just can't find it in yourself to hold back right now, the want too much.

Caitlin kisses you hungrily, hands on your face, and she pushes you over onto the bed, hips straddling your waist.

You moan into her mouth, hands pulling her in. You squeeze her ass as she adjusts on top of you.

"Take this off," She demands, and you take off your shirt quickly.

Caitlin just raises a brow, unhooking your bra for you, and sucks your nipple immediately, fingers kneading the other.

"Oh Caitlin-" You clutch at her hair as her hands continue to roam over you, pulling off your sleep shorts.

"You're so wet for me.. just waiting for me to do this huh?"

Caitlin's face is cocky, playful smirk playing on her face. Her fingers dip into your wetness, circling your clit, and she smirks wider as your hips raise slightly at her touch.

"Did you touch yourself thinking of me when I was away? Been my little slut?"

You moan at her words.

"Yes..." You admit.

"You like it when I call you a slut? My slut?" She asks, pressing kisses right under your jaw.

You moan a yes out as she pushes two fingers easily into you.

"Look at that, taking me so well"

Caitlin's going at a quick pace, her palm rubbing against your clit. You're gonna come fast if she keeps this up, and you feel it building in your lower stomach.

"I'm- I'm gonna come.. Caitlin"

You arch your back as she continues to hit your g spot roughly.

Caitlin grabs your face, making you look at her again.

"Come for me, I wanna hear you say my name y/n"

"Fuck Caitlin.. Caitlin.." You moan her name as you climax, finishing all over her.

She sucks her fingers when she takes them out, and you pull her down into a kiss.

"Wait, what about Connor?" You whisper, giving her an out, even though you know that's never stopped her.

"Who cares about him-" She says, panting slightly, too busy chasing her own high as your fingers dip into the waistband of her shorts.

"Fair-" It's your turn to smirk, even though the temporary win is bittersweet.

You find her clit easily, her underwear soaked.

"You made me feel so good, baby." The term of affection slips out by mistake, but she doesn't seem to notice as you kiss down her neck.

"Come on y/n, make me come-"

Caitlin's demand is cut short when her phone rings again, and Connor's name flashes on the screen for the second time.

"You gonna pick that up?" You tease as she sits up, looking at her phone. Your fingers are buried inside her, curling to hit her g spot, and you can tell she's warring with herself, even on top of you.

"I- uh-" Caitlin's moans are breathy, her hips rocking into your thrusts.

"You should answer, tell him who's fucking you"

You're being a little mean, annoyed at yourself for letting yourself get swept up in her again, annoyed at his existence, she doesn't even love him- so you tease her further by pulling her down onto you again.

"Fuck- I.. I can't.. I'm gonna come y/n"

Caitlin's moaning into your ear, her hand still clutched around the phone, the call ringtone loud and annoying, just like Connor himself.

"I want everyone to hear who's fucking you like this, cause it ain't him-"

"Y/n... oh god y/n" Caitlin comes, her body flush against yours. You bite her as she does, leaving a pretty hickey smack in the middle of her neck that she'll have to cover up later.

The call goes to voice-mail, and Caitlin's phone sits forgotten beside you two.

Caitlin gets off you, refreshed grin on her face.

"That was good.. UGH.. I guess I'll have to call him back later-"

You're not surprised, this is common. You wonder if you should say something, if you'll finally have the courage to tell her that this is the last time, that you can't keep doing this because you like her more than you should.

"Is it always gonna be like this Cait?"

You ask her, watching her run some water on a towel to throw to you, as per usual.

"What? It's just sex y/n" Caitlin avoids your eyes as she replies, pulling a shirt on.

"You're my best friend, it can't just be sex- he doesn't fuck you like this, doesn't make you feel like this!"

Caitlin's stepping into her shorts, her eyebrows knit together.

"He tries! And I don't know.. we're just friends..."

She trails off, like she's unsure of her own words.

You can't believe she wants to keep avoiding how she feels,

"Who was there at your first game of the season? Who was on call after every game after, debriefing with you? It wasn't him!"

"Y/n.."

You keep going as you throw on clothes of your own, suddenly feeling vulnerable naked in front of her.

"We act like girlfriends, in every sense but the title- we do everything together, we have sex, we call every night- do you even love him? You know this is more than sex."

Caitlin's standing up now, hand on her forehead.

"I... I don't know if I love him.. but I'm not gay! Or at least.. not-"

"What, not for me? Do you hear yourself??" You scoff at her.

Maybe it's too much, everything that's been going on, because Caitlin bursts into tears.

"Cait-" You say, lost for words as the tears run down her cheeks. She hates crying.

"It's too much.. being out here alone, not playing with Kate, Jada, Gabbie- being the rookie.. dealing with Connor.. and.."

She wipes at her eyes, looking at the bedspread as she tries to get out her next words.

"And how I feel about you- I know it's not fair to you that I'm still with him"

Your heart physically aches at her confession and you tap the spot on the bed next to you, placing her phone on the bedside table.

Caitlin hides her face in your chest, arms clutching you tightly.

"I'm sorry y/n"

You soothe her, stroking her hair,

"Shhhhh.. it's okay Cait"

She looks up at you, pushing herself upright.

"No, you're right.. it's not.. I thought if I kept trying to like him, that it might happen- and if I tried hard enough, maybe I'd feel even a fraction of how I feel around you, around him."

You move the hair out of her face, wiping away her tears.

"I get it" You say, as she continues.

"You're more than my best friend.. it'd be stupid to say this was just sex.. I don't want to lose you"

Caitlin's clutching your hands, and you want to believe her, to believe in you two.

Her phone rings again.

"It's Connor" You say softly.

There's determination in her eyes now, a fire you hadn't seen before. She takes the call, swiping across the screen.

"Hey I can't talk, I'll text later" Caitlin says briskly, before hanging up. You smile wide at her, despite yourself and the situation, and she smiles back.

"I'll dump him, I'm gonna make this right.. you're my number one pick y/n.. I swear it"

Caitlin's eyes are wide, solemn and honest. You believe her.

The clock on the wall reads 1 am and the tiredness hits you like a wave. You know she must be exhausted too.

You say softly,

"Why don't you start by cuddling me and sleeping?"

Caitlin's eyes light up at your words, relieved.

"Okay, I can do that"

Caitlin settles under the covers, and you feel yourself falling asleep as you kiss her forehead.

Guess she really would pick you over him.

---

Authors Note: I know I usually write for Paige but I've been wanting to write a fic with this concept and couldn't make Paige work. Hope y'all don't mind the change, Paige fic coming soon.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #indiana fever #wbn #smut #wlw #Spotify #wnba basketball #wnba #wnba draft #angst with a happy ending #angst #connor mccaffery

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cxvii666 · 4 months ago

Text

"WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS!?"

college au! stoner!hanta sero x fem!plug reader

“i kinda wanna bell him, but i've already belled him, he gets annoyed with how much i bell him,”

wc: 1.2k

the extended play: track 2, track 3

it’s a few days later, and hanta’s still trying to wrap his head around how the hell denki pulled this off.

they're at the bus shelter down the road from mina's flat. it's almost identical to the one from a few days ago — same crack in the pavement, same slightly busted bench that feels just a little too hard, like it was made for someone much taller than either of them, same cigarette butts scattered around like confetti.

hanta sero 's squatting on floor, back resting against the plastic screen, rolling a cig. he's half paying attention to the weather (which, of course, is cold and wet and annoying), and half paying attention to denki. the guy is bouncing around, looking as annoyingly chipper as usual. as if everything isn’t one giant cluster of "what the fuck?"

“so,” denki grins his stupid little smile, and he says in a puff of kiwi guava passion-fruit, “i was thinking, why don’t we invite her to mina's party? she'd totally be down, right?”

hanta squints at him as he fishes through his hoodie for a lighter. “who?”

denki looks at him like he’s the idiot. “her, man. you know, her.” and he points vaguely toward the horizon, as if the answer is self-evident.

hanta raises an eyebrow, finally putting two and two together. “wait, you mean—oh, fuck off, you’re seriously gonna call her? right now?”

“oh, totally. she said she was free.” denki's already pulling out his phone, face glowing with that stupid confident smugness that he always seems to have, and an “i'm about to make this happen~" expression that hanta can’t stand. “trust me, she’ll come.”

hanta squints up at his friend. “you are not calling her right now, you know that, right?”

but it’s already too late, denki is cheesing, phone to ear shushing hanta as the ringing stops and the line clicks, he swaggers off behind the bus stop with a "hey baby, watchu up tonight?"

hanta knocks his head back and sighs, sparking up his cigarette and plotting how tf hes gonna killl his bestfriend and come up with a believable cover story.

within seconds, hanta’s phone buzzes. the screen lights up with a text from denki to the group chat. "yo, I just invited my friend to da partyyy. Hope dats cool :3"

mina replies instantly with a "of courseeeeee !!!!!" as hanta scrambles off the ground after his friend. “you didn’t.”

“oh, I did.” denki winks, walking backwards and narrowly dodging a telephone pole in the middle of the sidewalk, practically vibrating with excitement.

hanta groans maybe he can get bakugou to help him hide the body. denki's or his own, he's not sure yet.

by the time the party rolls around, hanta’s not sure what’s worse: that he’s actually looking forward to it, or that denki’s probably masterminded half of it. he rolls up to the venue, mina's cramped, barely-lit apartment on the edge of campus, and immediately regrets every decision that led him here.

the front door is cracked open, the sounds of music and voices spilling out into the street like it’s some kind of wild circus. the familiar smell of weed hits him even before he steps inside, thick and pungent, mixing with cheap beer, cologne and the faintest hint of sweat. he steps through the door, practically getting knocked over by the surge of people.

and there you are.

hanta spots you immediately, even though there’s a sea of bodies moving around. you’re laughing at something kirishima just said (or maybe it’s bakugou, hanta’s not sure — both of them are too loud and too obnoxious, for some reason the angry blonde turns into the biggest joker when there are pretty girls around), your eyes sparkling in the dim, red-tinted light of the apartment. you’ve got your hood up over your head, and your smile is infectious in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

he tries to shake it off, but damn it, you’re pretty, and it’s only getting worse the longer he stands there, trying to be cool about it.

as if on cue, denki spots him across the room, waving him over like the over-enthusiastic piece of shit he is. “ayo- hanta, over here man."

hanta makes his way over to where denki and the others are, but his eyes keep flicking toward you. you notice him, and a little smile quirks up on your lips. his heart skips a beat.

“yo,” you say with a nod when he gets closer, that same lazy, sleepy tone from the other night, but this time, it’s mixed with an easy confidence that hanta can’t quite place. “so, you actually showed up.”

“uh, yeah,” hanta scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, already regretting how much he’s suddenly aware of your presence. “thought i’d make the trip out since... well, y'know, denks 'n mina insisted.”

you laugh, that same sound that makes his stomach flip. “yeah, he’s kind of like that.”

denki leans over your shoulder up at hanta, grinning like a maniac. “told you I was good for it, right? knew she'd be down to hang out.”

“yeah, you don't shut up either,” hanta mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips because, damn it, denki makes a noise of offence and your eyes just twinkle at him.

hours later, hanta’s pretty sure he's had way too much to drink — not that he’s complaining. it’s the usual party chaos. kirishima’s in the middle of a heated game of flip cup with bakugou, mina’s in the corner making everyone laugh with a story about some dumb thing that happened at work, and denki’s doing whatever denki does when he’s had too much to drink: embarrassing himself by feeling up on evryone art the function.

but through it all, hanta keeps finding himself glancing at you.

you’re sitting on the couch now, chatting with mina, your legs tucked under you, looking so... effortlessly cool and at ease with the world. it’s honestly getting kind of ridiculous how much his brain is fixated on you.

denki, of course, notices this, the little shit. he sidles up next to hanta, clinking his bottle against his, and waggles his eyebrows. “yo, bro. what’s up w'th you and my girl?”

hanta nearly chokes on his drink. “what? your girl?”

“yeah, come on,” denki teases, clearly enjoying this way too much, entwining his free hand around hanta shoulders and slowly moving their bodies close to where you're sat . “i’m not blind. you’re totally into her.”

“no, i—” hanta stumbles over his words, trying to act nonchalant about it. “no, i’m not. i just—she’s cool, that’s all. and you set this up.”

denki’s grin widens into a full-on smirk bringing his face so close to hanta that their noses are practically touching before mock-whispering. “i told you she was your type, didn’t i?”

“you’re unbelievable,” hanta mutters, pushing his friends face away from his own with the palm of his hand, but he’s not even mad. he knows denki well enough to know he’s not wrong.

across the room, you catch hanta’s eye again, and this time, you wave him over with that easy, relaxed smile of yours. his heart stutters in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s making his way over, ignoring denki’s victorious little cackle from behind him.

the night goes on, the music getting louder, the drinks flowing a little too freely, and the crowd growing more chaotic by the minute. but hanta doesn’t care. because when you look at him again, when you laugh and pull him into a conversation about some random thing — about denki, the stupid party, everything — was definitely worth it.

#sero hanta x reader #sero hanta #hanta sero x reader #SERO HANTA MY GLORIOUS UNDERRATED KING #mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #l #denki kaminari x reader #mha #mha college au #mha smau #ten writes trash #sero hanta x black reader #sero nation

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amphibiahawks321 · 4 months ago

Text

[Dabi wearing a hood, covering herself from the public eye as she is walking through the mall]

Fem!Dabi : Sighs... Why am I doing this...

[Y/N beside dabi also wearing a hood to cover up his identity]

M!Reader : Oh come now Blue flames, don't get your emotions in the gutter now!

Fem!Dabi : Why couldn't those two ask the others to do this... This is a complete waste of my time...

M!Reader : I wouldn't say this would be a complete waste of time—

Fem!Dabi : I'm literally tasked by those two idiots to buy some items in the mall, I'm doing their errands...

M!Reader : it's better than letting them keep annoying you and begging you to do it

Fem!Dabi : Toga and twice not being the one doing this themselves and their excuse being tired from the task they've been getting doesn't mean I want to do this...

M!Reader : Well you are respon—..... Wait, why did you invite me again?

Fem!Dabi : I need someone to watch my back if something goes south, I trust you'll take care of the problem...

M!Reader : You sure not for Any other reasons?~

Fem!Dabi : Don't expect any more compliments for today...

M!Reader : Ouch, Hmm... Don't think it'll be fun if we have our own little in the mall?–

Fem!Dabi : No...

M!Reader : Oh come oon, it'll only take a couple of minutes, when was the last time you went to an arcade?

Fem!Dabi : .....

Few hours later

[Few Hours Later, Outside, behind the Mall, Dabi leans against a pillar, arms crossed, staring down at the bag she just placed down]

Fem!Dabi : Sighs... That was such a waste of time, they could've picked this stuff up themselves...

[Y/N grinning, leaning casually against the same pillar beside her]

M!Reader : Chuckles... You're not fooling anyone, you enjoyed it–admit it~

[Dabi shoots him a sharp glance, her lips curling into a subtle smirk]

Fem!Dabi : You think just because you won a few rounds at that arcade, I'm suddenly more impressed with you?

[Y/N steps closer, his voice dropping lower]

M!Reader : I think you like the challenge, I think you like how I make you feel~

[Dabi's eyes flash dangerously, her tone cold as ice]

Fem!Dabi : keep talking, and you might just regret it...

[Y/N smirks, undeterred by her icy demeanor]

M!Reader : I'm not scared of you, Blue flames, but I'd love to see how much fire you've got when I get even closer...

[Dabi's body stiffens as he inches even closer, but she doesn't pull away]

Fem!Dabi : Careful, you're stepping into dangerous territory....

M!Reader (grinning) : I'm all about danger, you know that

[Dabi breath hitches slightly, and her Blue flames flicker, dancing around her hands before she grabs his collar, Pulling him closer, her lips brushing against his ear]

Fem!Dabi : You're playing with fire, and trust me.... I don't do gentle...

[Y/N heart races, a thrilling shiver running down his spine as he lowers his voice to a whisper]

M!Reader : I wouldn't want you to Flamey...~

[in an instant, the air between them crackles with tension, as if the flames from her quirk were burning just inches away from them. Without a warning, Dabi pulls him into a heated kiss and wraps her arms around Y/N's waist, her lips crashing against his as her flames flare up for a brief moment]

[Dabi pulls back for a second, her eyes dark and intense]

Fem!Dabi : you're lucky I'm in the mood to play...

[Y/N's voice low, filled with desire]

M!Reader : Oh, I know, I'll make sure not to disappoint~

[Without hesitation Dabi grabs onto Y/N's chin and pulls him for another kiss, a wild, fiery moment that neither of them will forget, as the tension from earlier finally erupts into something much hotter]

[Dabi whispers against his lips, her voice dangerously soft]

Fem!Dabi : Just remember... If you get burned, it's your own fault...

[Y/N grins, breathless]

M!Reader : I wouldn't have it any other way....

[Dabi's lips turn into a sly smirk as she pushes Y/N back against the cold brick wall while pinning both of his hands over his head, the contrast between the surface and her fiery presence sending a shiver down Y/N's spine, Dabi's eyes glint with a dangerous mix of desire and mischief, trapping him]

Fem!Dabi : Your guts always surprises me... But guts won't save you from me...

[Y/N exhales slowly, a crooked grin spreading across his face despite the rapid pounding of his heart]

M!Reader : I never asked to be saved

[Dabi amused by his answer, a soft, almost dangerous laugh slipping past her lips, her hand moves from his wrist to his neck, leaving a faint heat marks on his skin]

[Her hand moves back to pinning his hand against the wall as she leans in until her lips brush the curve of his jaw]

Fem!Dabi : careful sweetheart, you keep saying things like that, and I might just take you apart piece by piece...

[Y/N tilts his head, offering her more access to his neck with a slight defiance in his gaze]

M!Reader : Who says I'm not already yours to break?

[Her flames flare for a moment at his words, a spark of something feral igniting in her eyes, Dabi's smirk widens and before Y/N could react she captures he slips in a heat and passionate kiss, rough, consuming, and leaving him breathless, the heat from her body overwhelming but addictive]

[Breaking the kiss with a string of saliva between their lips, just enough to speak, Dabi rests her forehead against his, her voice dangerously soft]

Fem!Dabi : No regrets in those pretty eyes of yours, you seem to seriously want to be my possession... Chuckles.. no backing out now..

.......

Twice : Oh look who finally came back! Where have you two been!

M!Reader : Relax twice, We got what you wanted—

Twice : Ooooo! Did you guys also get my–

M!Reader : Yep! we got your chicken flavour instant ramen

Twice : Goody!

Toga : What took you two so long?

M!Reader : Let's just say something... Came up that was a little too hot to handle~

[Dabi gave Y/N a light smack on his head making Y/N let out an ouch]

Twice : Wait, wait! Don’t tell me you set something on fire again! I told you guys, no more barbecue without me!

#male reader #mha x reader #reader x mha #mha #my hero academia x reader #reader x my hero academia #my hero academia #dabi x reader #reader x dabi

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baronessvonglitter · 5 days ago

Text

Distractions

dbf!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 2.7K

summary: You and Dave are finding it hard to forget that one night.. and a chance encounter gives you both a second opportunity..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. dbf!Dave. jealous!Dave. Slight angst. Alcohol consumption (no drunkenness). Fingering. Semi public/public sex. Unprotected p in v. Some teasing on Dave's part (surprise surprise). Pet names (princess, sweetheart). Age gap (reader is in her 20s, Dave in his 40s). Dave teases you about your preference for older guys but he started it so why the name-calling(?). Reader wears a dress but is otherwise undescribed. No use of y/n.

a/n: it's me, ya girl Adriana, and I have synesthesia.

I decided to bring back one of our favorite dilfs, our Suburban Murder Daddy. (although I haven't decided if he's a killer in this universe or not. we shall see). Enjoy, babes! (This is a sequel to Just a Ride but can be read as a standalone.)

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

Dave orders a Macallan and looks around the bar while he waits. Any trace of a smile on his face disappears when he spots you across the way, seated at a table with another, older man. A work friend of his and your father's. His arm is around you as he's whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It looks to all the world like he's planning on sharing more than just a whisper with you later.

A pang of jealousy and something new, a bright and bitter feeling, shoots through his veins. He grips his glass a little tighter, trying to ignore the way his blood is heating up at the sight of you with another man. He takes a long gulp of his Scotch, trying to keep his cool as he decides what course of action to take. Going up to you and demanding to know why you're here with fucking Charles of all people would sound plaintive and greedy. You're a grown woman, you can date whoever the fuck you want.

Just not fucking Charles.

He's practically nonplussed when you get up and make your way to his direction. As you come closer your eyes meet his and he has to fight to swallow his drink.

"Hey!" You call out, seemingly surprised to run into him. "Dave.. how have you been?" You go in for a hug and Dave freezes, giving your back a light pat. He remembers how you felt in his arms, so pliant beneath him, even in the confines of the passenger seat of his car.

"I've been well, just grabbing a drink. What about you? How's life?" He manages a smile, hoping it'll hide how surprised he is to see you here.

"Good, good. I'm on a date. Again." You chuckle, but your eyes set right on him as if expecting a particular reaction.

"Oh," he says, as if caught by surprise. He casually leans against the bar, his eyes taking you in, disguising the way your words make his stomach clench with a feeling he has no right to act on. Your dress is dark blue this time, his favorite color, and he wonders if you knew he'd be here tonight. Maybe Charles mentioned it and you suckered him into coming here, hoping to run into him.

He doesn't allow himself the freedom of thinking that.

"Another date, huh? With, uh.. Charles, huh?" He cranes his neck to give the fellow a good look, pretending he hadn't been green with jealousy over you just minutes ago. "How's this one going? Is he treating you right?" In all the unanswered texts from you he has in his phone, you never texted him about your date, and now he figures why. The last guy was an idiot and maybe you knew it from the moment you accepted the date, and that was why you asked Dave to rescue you. But Charles is older, less prone to being pushy about getting into your panties. He wants to ask if you've developed a habit for older men, but he knows it'd be out of line. He can't risk knowing he's hurt by seeing you with someone else.

"Yeah, it's great. We started talking at my dad's dinner party last week." There's a glimmer in your eye that compels Dave to ask for more details, to get the nitty-gritty of what exactly you've done while he's been in radio silence with you.

But he's good at keeping his composure. For now.

"That right?" He looks over at the table again and sees Charles there, but he's on his phone, likely taking an important call. "Has he started to bore you yet with talk of his golf game?"

"Dave," you gently chide him. "He was talking about you.. he thinks very highly of you."

"Does he now? That's nice to hear. What has he said?"

"Just that you're one of the best in the agency," you tell him honestly, your eyes shining with the tickle it gives you to compliment him.

"Can't help talking shop, even on a date, huh?" He downs the last of his Scotch and puts a bill on the bar, covering the drink and a good sized tip. "So why him?"

You shrug, even though your expression gives the truth away. "I like him.. and I've been lonely." You look up at him through your lashes. "You haven't been coming around lately."

"Yeah, I know," he says guiltily. "I've just been busy."

"With Julia?"

His mouth sets in a firm line. So your parents told you. He wonders if you know about the double date he went on with your folks and Julia. The whole time he was thinking about you.

"Yeah, with her," his tone is even, careful, as if to tread lightly, and a piece of his heart crumbles to see the hurt in your eyes.

"She's.. a friend," he feels the need to explain. But he knows that you already know -- Julia is a distraction.

"Oh, that's nice," you tell him, swallowing hard, forcing back the tears that threaten to spill. "Did you fuck her in your car just like you fucked me?"

He whispers your name harshly, leads you to the end of the bar where you aren't as noticeable. "Jesus! Why would you ask something like that?"

"I'm so stupid," you whisper, hanging your head. "I thought.. I thought you liked me." You sound pitiful and you know it. Even if Dave would reciprocate his feelings, he's only going to see you as a child. Still a kid despite your age. You turn to leave, hoping to forget all about this night and vow to never think about Dave York ever again.

"Wait, wait," he gently pulls you back and wipes your tears away with his thumb. "Please, don't cry, princess.." His large hands cup your face, his deep brown eyes searching yours intently.

"I do," he says quietly. "I do like you.. more than I should."

Your breath hitches, hope burgeoning in your chest. "But why would you just ignore me like that? I was really hurt by that, Dave."

"I know." He exhales a long, remorseful sigh. "You deserve better. You're young, beautiful, you have a hell of a good head on your shoulders. Don't you want to be with someone who can offer you more than what I can? Or what that fuckwad Charles can offer?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Honestly? Fuck yes, I am. He's even older than me!"

"He's only fifty."

"Still.." Dave's eyes travel across the room to see Charles looking around, a frown on his face. "Were you planning on sleeping with him? Or have you already done that?"

There's something honest about your clear, open gaze. "The last person I slept with was you," you whisper.

The memory of it is still fresh in his mind, and hearing you talk so matter-of-factly about it isn't helping keep his growing need in check. "You know.. I can still taste you.."

Heal pools in your lower belly and, as if your body has been preparing for this very moment, a little slick runs out of you, into the gusset of your panties.

"What do I taste like?" you ask, wanting to keep the game on, hoping it'll lead where you think it's going to lead.

"Like the sweetest peach, or a sip of the finest wine," he whispers back.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.."

Your words ignite a fire that he's been trying to smother. Despite his best efforts he finds himself drawn to you, pulled in by the confession that mirrored his own unbidden thoughts. "Don't say things like that, princess.. it's not fair."

"What's not fair is you leaving me the way you did.. I wasn't happy with just one time." You recall the days spent after your night with him, waiting for a call, your heart leaping with joy each time you heard the doorbell, but it was never Dave on your doorstep.

Dave clenches his jaw, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. The image of you, panting and wanting, flashes through his mind, and his body starts to respond in kind. "You're making it really hard to be a gentleman right now, princess.."

"I don't want you to be a gentleman, Dave. I want just the opposite."

His restraint snaps and he pins you to the bar, pressing against you from behind. You're in a dark, secluded area of the bar, with no one paying you any mind, but he doesn't care if anyone sees. Let that idiot Charles get an eyeful. Dave is the one you want after all. He kisses the junction of your neck and shoulder, entranced by the scent of your perfume, something sultry and warm, just like you.

"I could do whatever I want to you.. right here.. and no one would even know," Dave utters.

Your eyes flutter shut, goosebumps rising on your flesh, your nipples already pebbling under your bra. You shudder, and it doesn't escape him that you press back against him, your ass seeking out the growing bulge in his pants. His hands skim up your sides as he pulls you against him, giving you want you want and letting you feel how hard you're getting him. "You really want it that badly, don't you? You said you couldn't get enough after the first time?" he taunts.

"I do want it," you sigh, feeling your panties now soaked in anticipation. You imagine what it'd be like for him to unbuckle his pants, free his cock and shove your panties to the side so he can fill you, right here where someone might catch you. "I never stopped wanting you."

"Got a thing for older men?" he teases, enjoying the way your breath catches in your throat. Guilty. "Seems you do," he says as he teases one finger into your drenched cunt. You cover your gasp with your hand. "A little bit of daddy issues at play? Don't know why.. you had a pretty good childhood. I should know - I was there for most of it."

"Dave, please!" you whisper, both as a deterrent to keep from teasing about your age gap and a green light to keep stroking you.

"Do you think your date will miss you if you're gone for awhile?"

"That depends on how quick you are.."

His lips press against your pulse, the curve of his aquiline nose caressing your neck. "Oh princess.. there's nothing quick about the things I want to do to you."

Dave presses you against the wall of the alleyway behind the bar, the night air cool after the artificial warmth of the building. His lips are on your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, working his way up to your jaw, each kiss like fire on your skin.

"You don't know how hard it was to keep away," he mutters in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. "Every day since the last time I got a taste of you, I've been dying to have you again." He buries his face in your neck, holding you to him tightly, as if he's afraid to let you go again. A mixture of guilt and desire swirls within him as he presses his hips up into yours, letting you feel the proof of his need. "I never should have left you that night. I should have brought you back to my place, taken my time with you. I should have fucked you senseless and made you mine."

"Make me yours now," you beg, lifting the hem of your dress.

Dave growls. a primal sound of need as your request hits his ears. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping your flesh firmly as he presses up into you. "Right here? Daddy's princess wants to get fucked in a dirty little alley?"

You shudder a sigh, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Yes," you respond, your face heating with what ought to be shame, but only desire resides in you.

His hands slip under your dress and his fingers sneak into your panties. "Do you still want this, princess? Tell me. because I can't think straight when you're around me."

"Yes, God, yes, Dave.." you gasp, the warmth of his digits even nicer than the silk against your skin. "Tear them off me, I don't care!"

He doesn't hesitate. Giving a fierce, possessive grunt his hands rip the scrap of lace off your hips with a sharp tug, making you cry out in surprise. "Christ.. I need you. Now."

You pull him close, quickling unbuckling his belt and dipping your hand into his pants. Your touch sneaks past the waistband of his boxers, igniting sparks of pleasure that course through his body. "Fuck, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaning in to capture your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue exploring greedily.

With your legs hooked around him he presses you to the wall and he positions himself at your entrance. "Tell me again that you want me," he begs. "I need to hear it."

"I want you.. I want you so bad," you plead.

His hips thrust forward and he sinks into you slowly, allowing you a moment to adjust to him again. You're tight and wet around him, a vise grip around his throbbing dick. The sound of his whispered name coming from your luscious lips only serves to amplify the intensity of the pleasure, and he rocks into you slow and deep.

"You're so damn tight, princess.. so damn good.."

He begins to pick up the pace, his body moving against yours in a smooth, controlled rhythm, but his control slips at the sound of his name from your lips, his movements becoming more urgent as he loses himself to the heat and ecstasy of being inside you. He hitches your legs higher around his hips, driving into you harder, his body a tense, coiled need against yours. You give a high-pitched moan, screaming his name with every thrust, the shoulders his crisply-ironed shirt balled up in your fists as you cling to him for dear life.

Dave is lost to the sound of your voice, your body responding to his every move, driving him wild. "Fuck, that's it.. scream for me, sweetheart. Say my name." He drives into you harder, deeper, his breath coming out in rough gasps as he takes you, his hips slamming against yours. "God!" you moan, long and loud as you come hard around him.

The sound of your orgasm, the feel of you clenching around him, is too much. Dave's release hits him like a freight train, his own climax hitting him with the force that makes his vision go white. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart," he mumbles. He lets out a low, guttural groan as he buries his face in your neck, his body shuddering against yours as he comes. riding out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.

You whimper as he finishes, holding him close. "Oh.. my.. god," you whisper.

Dave holds you against him, his body still shuddering involuntarily as he tries to regain his breath, his brain struggling to process the intensity of what they'd just done. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart, that was just.. fuck." He leans in and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing soft, breathless kisses against your skin as he holds you in his arms, savoring the feeling of being close to you.

You give a shaky laugh, still trying to catch your breath. "I don't think I've ever come that quickly.."

Dave lets out a gruff chuckle at your words, his body still buzzing from the aftermath of his release. He nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair as he triest to recover. "That makes two of us, princess. I don't think I've ever come that hard, either."

"There's no way I can go back to my date now," you chuckle.

His arms tightening around you. "You're not going back to him. You're coming home with me."

You lick your lips. "Really?"

His eyes darken as he watches the seemingly innocent gesture. "Yeah, princess. Really. I'm not letting you go back to him. You're mine tonight."

"Yes," you whisper.

Dave's heart soars at your quiet agreement. "Good. Let's get out of here, sweetheart." He carefully lowers your legs from around his waist, straightening your skirt and helping you regain your bearings. He slips your ruined panties into his pocket, a keepsake for later, as he offers his arm and leads you away to his car.

tags: @lilac-boo @604to647 @joelalorian @tateypots @letsgobarbs @yorksgirl

@inept-the-magnificent @bunniboo0015 @professionalpromqueen

@cathsteen @itwasntimethatdidit40 @megangovier @evolnoomym

@probablyreadinsmut @untamedheart81 @joelmillerswife9

@ariundercovers @axshadows @sawymredfox @yxtkiwiyxt

#dave york #dave york smut #dave york fic #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dbf!dave #jealous!dave #soft!dave #ppcu #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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