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p4lparker · 3 years

Text

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

"Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

"Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

"Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

"Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

"Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room, he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him. We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

“Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head. He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for.

#repost #stiles x reader #stiles smut #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles x y/n

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tiny-maus-boots · 3 years

Text

Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds.

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

#queen of hearts #staubrey #pitch perfect au #the debt collector series

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 33

First

Updating today instead of tomorrow so I can spend the whole day on the work I procrastinated :/

~~~

How did she end up staying at Wayne Manor for a week and a half? Deception. She’d never felt more betrayed than she did in that moment. And to think, she and Tim had been friends.

She’d rolled her eyes when Wayne Manor came into view.

“I can go home, you know.”

“Says the person who got kidnapped on her way there,” responded Tim with a sigh. He paused at the gate as they waited for it to open. “Besides, your ankle’s messed up. You shouldn’t be walking.”

She groaned and tipped her head back against his arm so she could glare at him. “I’m fine.”

He had looked away for a moment, using the gate opening as an excuse, then he started walking. After a while, he hesitantly looked at her. “But I’m not! You got hurt because of me. Please, just... let me take care of you for a little bit.”

Her face burned. “Fine. I’ll stay until Halloween. Happy?”

He seemed to consider this, then shook his head. “But, bean, that’s tomorrow! At least stay here for proper treatment, then you can go.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I could get proper treatment without you.”

He had only sighed in response.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Fine. Fine. I’ll stay until I’m healed.”

“Really?” He asked, his face full of hope.

She nodded.

And then, much to her horror, a smug smile stretched across his face. “No take backs! Sucker!”

Truly horrible. She’d never trust again.

Still, she'd be lying if she said she didn’t have a good time.

After ‘convincing’ (begging) them to go to her apartment and get her supplies she’d started working on the outfits for the steadily approaching Gala. She’d intended to do most of her embroidery while she was there, because it was calming and repetitive and she’d be able to relax with Tim... but then Dick had seen what she was doing and had nerded out with her about outfits and design. It turned out one person in their family did have a little bit of style, and she was ecstatic. Now she lazed on his way-too-comfortable bed and worked while babbling on about her designs. And he actually understood what she was saying. It was great.

And, when she wasn’t designing, she’d often be found drinking coffee with Tim (the Waynes had bought another machine for her after the first day’s... ‘incident’). They would lean against each other and drink in comfortable silence, which is exactly what everyone wants in the early morning. Who cares if it was three in the afternoon? With their sleep schedules it was practically like being awake at five in the morning anyways.

At other times she and Jason could be found together. This was less fun, because he was the one most pressed about her ankle. While everyone knew that her foot would probably be fine in a week’s time, he was the one to practically carry her everywhere like a damsel in distress. He’d learned to stop when she kicked him in the shin (with her bad leg, it was not a good time for either of them), but he was still extremely worried for her and not at all concerned with hiding it. Still, he made it up to her by sneaking her extra coffees (Dick had set a limit when he’d seen the way Tim and her binge-drank when with each other).

The only bad part was...

Her and Damian locked eyes across the table and they sent each other a glare. She didn’t even know why his presence irritated her to no end, didn’t know why her veins buzzed whenever he got too close; she only knew that she didn’t like it.

She didn’t act on it that much, surprisingly. She had no real reason to be angry with him, the slight rudeness he’d presented the day they’d met was perfectly justified. Marinette settled for the occasional snide comment at the table.

This only seemed to upset him more and more as time went on.

Finally, when her leg was healed (Jason had managed to convince her to stay an extra day to be sure), he’d grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her away from Tim before either of them could really react.

“What’s your problem?” She hissed as he pulled her along, struggling to not spill her coffee due to their brisk pace.

He dragged her into the dojo and crossed his arms over his chest. “Me? You’re the one who’s been rude the whole time you’ve been staying here!”

She couldn’t respond. He had a bit of a point. She settled for sending him a glare over the rim of her cup.

“What do you have against me?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

“Maybe I just don’t like people.”

“You made friends with the Rogues!”

Oh. So that’s what this was about. She lowered her drink slightly. “Maybe I just don’t like you,” she corrected herself.

Damian scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever. You don’t want to answer? Fine. Fight me.”

Marinette felt like she had whiplash. He’d gone from being annoyed that she wasn’t being nice to him to wanting to fight in approximately half a second. Still, she had to admit, fighting him would probably be nice. Not only did she miss the adrenaline of a fight, but a tiny part of her hoped that her anger would dissipate if she gave him a punch or two.

She set down her drink. “Sure. Whatever.”

He looked a bit smug. They walked along the walls and pulled off equipment that they deemed necessary. Basically they both pulled on some grappling gloves and she added an ankle brace to make sure she didn’t instantly mess up her leg again.

After a few minutes of stretching they squared up to each other on the mat.

She grinned and raised her hands to her face. She didn’t actually know how good he was, but she wasn’t all that intent on going easy on him. They had a dojo, he had to have some kind of fighting expertise, that only made --.

Marinette was pulled from her thoughts as a punch came at her face. She dodged with ease and backed up a few steps, raising her guard properly. All she needed was to take her time to learn his fighting style.

She smiled as she dodged his attacks. He was getting angrier, sloppier, with every miss. His style was getting more and more obvious. Just a few more attacks and she would be completely sure --.

His fist came for her throat.

She had to do a backflip to avoid the blow.

His eyes widened.

She cursed mentally. She’d given up her one possible advantage: the high chances of him underestimating her.

Her element of surprise gone, she forced herself to go on the offense. She threw a short jab at him and raised her eyebrows at the almost practiced nature of his block, like he’d done this exact motion a million times.

Her lips twitched. Amateurs are usually the ones who choreograph their moves like that --.

Realization struck her just as his fist did, sending her back a few steps.

Her body moved on autopilot, sending a kick at his chest to get him away so she could recover. His hand locked on her foot and one of his legs swept hers out from under her. A curse slipped from between her lips as her back hit the mat, but it was nothing compared to her reaction when he dropped a bit of weight on the leg he held. Pain pulled a strangled sob from her throat and she thought her leg would shatter.

Her hand slammed the ground twice.

Damian stopped instantly at the motion a worried expression flickering across his features. Red Hood wasn’t lying, the reaction had been instantaneous in both of them. They’d both been drilled, both had the same cues. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

And, unfortunately, Damian wasn’t completely stupid. She saw confusion find its way across his face. And then shock. Denial. Understanding. Anger. And then acceptance.

He dropped onto the mat beside her and covered his face with his hands. “You’re Ladybug.”

“And you’re Robin,” she agreed, pulling her still throbbing leg to her chest. “You suck with and without the outfit. It makes sense,” she muttered.

And, sadly, it really did make sense. The buzzing under her skin she’d interpreted as anger was just the cat miraculous calling out to her, to its guardian, waving its arms and screaming at her to just let him use it. And, now that she thought about it, it could only have been him. She’d probably recognized the feeling she had around Damian as the one she had around Robin subconsciously and transferred that anger onto him.

“You can’t tell anyone,” she warned.

He scoffed. “Why would I hide it? They already suspect you. Besides, it’s not like the rest of my family would care, they love you with and without the costume.”

She sat up and sent him a glare. “It’s not about that. I keep my identity secret because I want to. It’s my privacy, my secret, and you don’t get to a choice in this.”

Damian -- no, Robin -- no -- He opened his fingers to peek at her serious face and she caught an eye roll.

“And, if you don’t...” She added, her voice sickly sweet. “I’m sure your family would love to know exactly how I found out who you all were.”

It was a guess, really. She assumed that, because they were pretty open about being family as vigilantes, they all had to be in on it when they told someone about their identities. But it was still a guess. She gave him her most confident look so he wouldn’t think she was bluffing.

His eyes narrowed and he sat up as well. She scrutinized his face; she looked for fear or annoyance or something, but he’d managed to put together a perfect mask.

And then...

He sighed and stuck his hand out. “Fine. I don’t tell them anything, you don’t tell them anything. Deal?”

They shook on it.

“Deal.”

She spent the next three days (because Jason had thrown a fit when he’d realized she had messed up her ankle more) observing the family. It would be beneficial to learn which bat corresponded to which Wayne, it made it easier to keep her lies consistent.

She could go off of ages, of course. It was the easy way to guess, but she’d never been one to take the easy way.

Besides, the ‘hard way’ wasn’t actually all that hard.

Bruce Wayne was a reclusive billionaire known to adopt kids faster than they could say ‘hi’. Batman was a reclusive billionaire known to take vigilantes under his wing just as quickly.

Dick Grayson-Wayne was an ex-acrobat who was determined to figure out if Marinette and Ladybug were the same person. Nightwing incorporated acrobat-like flexibility and technique in fighting and was determined to figure out if Marinette and Ladybug were the same person.

Jason Todd-Wayne was a sarcastic guy with gray morals and a tendency to joke about committing murder. Red Hood was a sarcastic guy with gray morals and a tendency to actually commit murder.

Timothy Drake-Wayne was a coffee-addicted workaholic that was smart enough to become CEO of a company at a young age. Red Robin was a coffee-addicted workaholic that was smart enough to figure out Batman and Robin’s identities at a young age.

Honestly, she felt like banging her head on a wall for not realizing it sooner. Sure, she’d suspected it, but she’d been so determined for ‘proper’ proof that she didn’t realize that there was some pretty good proof right in front of her.

Well, at least she’d figured it out at some point, she supposed.

She sent Jason a glare as she scooped some coffee pods into her bag. “I am fine.”

“But --.”

“I am fine.”

He huffed. “You’re still limping.”

“I. Am. Fine.”

He opened his mouth one last time, but was cut off by Tim pushing past him to wrap her in a hug. “Beeeeaaaaan, please let me --.”

She rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to push him off, only detaching an arm so she could drink from her mug. “Not working a second time.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. She sighed and glanced at Jason. “Help.”

“Only if you promise to stay a bit longer,” he said without missing a beat, his lips curved into a Cheshire grin.

Marinette sent him a look before leaning into Tim. “You’re all allowed to come to my house at any point.”

“Yeah, but your house is boring,” complained Dick.

She threw a cup of coffee creamer at him and he dodged it without even sparing it a glance.

“It’s true, bean, it’s pretty empty in there.”

Marinette laughed quietly. “Fine. If you guys don’t like it then you’re not allowed back.”

Jason gasped and joined the hug. “How dare you?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to trap me here?”

“Whaaaaat? Us? No,” said Dick as he, too, walked over and wrapped his arms around her.

Marinette decided she’d give them a few minutes. She could still reach her coffee, and that’s all that really mattered.

At least, until she saw Damian in the hallway. Her shoulders tensed slightly at the sight of him. Ever since their agreement they’d come to a kind of truce. After all, if they really wanted they could spill the secret. Sure, there was incentive to keep quiet, but if one of their tempers got the better of them...

“Help?” She tried.

He looked away and continued walking, leaving her to suffer.

She sighed and went to work prying arms off of her. There was a lot of whining, but none of them resisted.

Outside of Tim.

Dick broke into a grin and pulled Jason out, yelling that they were going to help pack her stuff over his shoulder. She didn’t believe that was quite it. For some reason.

“Tim,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Come back for Thanksgiving?” He asked.

She blinked. A little over a month beforehand he’d been desperate to keep her away from this place. She couldn’t help but smile a little. “Fine. I’ll stay for Thanksgiving. But only if you let go.”

“Fine.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows when he didn’t let go immediately.

“Um...?”

He smirked. “I said I’d let go, I never said when.”

She groaned and pushed him off. This time he let her. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

“Mmm,” she said, determined to not say yes or no.

He didn’t seem to notice, giving her a wide grin. “Right, ready to go?”

She smiled. “Yep!”

~~~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #satisfied #maribat

133 notes · View notes

daddychims · 4 years

Text

Offside Pt15

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Series Masterlist!

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Also Jimin not letting the female MC live for one day, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

P.S. the final member made a cameo (or should I say honorary mention?) , everyone please welcome Mr Min Yoongi!

“Do I get to finally taste some of your placebo effect?”

You watch as the guy’s lips curls on one side to a slight smirk, pushing you against the doorframe and locking you between his half naked figure and the frame

“J-Jimin,” you gasp pushing against the guy’s bare chest “I need to wash up before dinner!”

“My dinners served right here,” he retorts as he presses his forehead against yours “Where would I go when my full course meal is standing right here ready for me to eat her up.”

“Jimin,” you scold in an authoritative tone “Joon and Jiwoo are waiting for us!”

“Babe, why are you so tense, you just gotta let go and indulge a bit,” he sighs as he moves his head down to your chin, pressing a gentle kiss on the soft skin under your lips “, my tongue skills has never disappointed anyone and you’re not gonna be a first!”

You gulp as a rush of arousal shoots between your legs, biting your lips to deny the temptations of giving in to the guy’s seductive words but the earlier images of Jungkook warning you against Jimin tugs on your heart.

“I’m hungry,” you reply firmly, shifting to move away from him and watch him part his lips to respond but you immediately predict his next words “and not hungry for you Park! LIKE GENIUNLY HUNGRY!”

“Fine, I don’t know if you heard but the menu is my delicious chicken curry,” He chuckles, his moon shaped eyes disappearing as he moves away from you “I’ll let you go on one condition!”

“What?” you raise an eyebrow

“Joonie hyung said you give killer massages,” he smirks viciously “and our club’s physio thinks I would really benefit from some massage.”

“You’re telling me none of your booty calls are capable of rubbing your neck for you!” you roll your eyes as you walk to the sink to wash your hand

“They’re just good at rubbing one off, but not really my neck” he rests his hand on the doorframe “somewhere down south!”

You glance at him pointing at his dick which the towel is doing a mediocore job of hiding and roll your eyes “Off course they would!” you snicker as you turn the tap off and move to walk pass him

“So, are we on?” He asks as he follows you, not caring that he’s about to walk in the living room literally half naked “Am I getting one of your killer massages or not?”

“I’ll see,” you turn around stopping him as you face him “If you behave, like a good boy,” A slight smile plasters on your lips as your hands travels to his blonde hair to stroke the silky strands “then I might consider.”

“Mhmmm,” he raises an eyebrow, “So you’re into good boys huh?” his eyes darken as he takes a step forward and murmurs “Then why the fuck were you messing around with a guy like Yoongi Hyung?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately step back, expression hardening but he stops you by holding around your waist “How-How do you know?”

“Relax,” he soothes “Yoongi Hyung was SNU soccer team’s wildcard before setting off for nationals,” he explains softly “Hanguk’s Nerd and SNU’s Jock, your story is one of the campus favourite love stories.”

“Failed love story,” you correct with a cold tone “If you haven’t heard the ending, I’ll let tell you, Min Yoongi cheated on me,” you add with a tone dripping with venom “Which was a good lesson for me to not mess around with guys like him anymore!”

“Mhmm guys like him …” Jimin’s voice trails off as he stares at you for a few seconds in silence, as if he’s trying to figure you out “Explains why you’ve been playing so hard to get!”

“Now you know Park,” you flash a bitter smile “Keep it moving and go make your love story with another girl,” you hesitate before adding “One that is still stupid enough to believes there is a happy ending with guys like you and Min Yoongi.”

You turn on your heels but his words stop you “I just want my massage,” he calls and you look back at him with an annoyed expression “I’ll be a good boy!” he throws his hand up in the air as a sign of succumbing to you

“Get dressed and let’s have dinner first!”

“Yes Ma’am.” He salutes with a naughty tone before running down the hallway like a little boy

You sigh and turn around towards the living room where Jiwoo and Joon are already indulging in the chicken curry Jimin cooked

“Hurry up,” Joon calls with mouth full of food “It’s getting cold, where is Park?”

“Getting dressed,” you mutter through gritted teeth “maybe you should have told me he’s naked in the shower when I was heading to bathroom.”

“Sorry I forgot,” he shrugs as he jams another mouthful of rice and curry in his mouth “It’s not like you don’t see naked guys at you at work all the time.”

“So …” Jiwoo interrupts as you scoop some curry into your plate “You and Jeon huh?”

“JOON!” You cry and the guy immediately chokes on his food, developing a coughing fit immediately “You’re fucking useless!” you cry in rage

“don’t scold him,” Jiwoo glares at you as he hands a cup of water to her boyfriend “you’re useless for not telling me that you’re about to get some of that Golden dick? Why? You thought I’ll ask you to share?”

“Hey Hey,” Joon knocks on the table with a raspy voice, scolding Jiwoo “You young lady, you’re not thirsting over dick when I’m sitting here all healthy and ready to serve you!”

“I was just saying,” Jiwoo rolls her eyes “The point is this little snake is fucking Hanguk’s Golden Dick and is not telling me- “

“who’s fucking Hanguk’s Golden dick?” Jimin walks in the living room and you immediately motion to Jiwoo to shut up

“Nothing, this curry is actually good- “you try to change the subject, but your dense friend is clueless to your effort

“She’s fucking Hanguk’s golden dick,” Jiwoo motions to you explaining to Jimin “AKA Jeon Jungkook!”

“Oh,” Jimin nods, glancing at you “Interesting, last time I asked her she denied!”

“Wait, how did you know?” Joon asks with a confused tone

“Last time we were playing billiard, Jeon was eating her up with his eyes,” Jimin explains with a casual tone “Then he and his stupid friend pulled this shit of betting with me over driving her home,” he hesitates as he munches on his bread “the guy’s pretty aggressive!”

“Didn’t I tell you to take her home?” Joon throws a piece of bread at Jimin before glancing at you “So this has been going for a while!”

“First of all, I can get my ass home just fine, you don’t need to assign your minions to take care of me,” you glance at Jimin and quickly mutter “Second of all, NOTHING HAS BEEN GOING ON! Just because you all can’t keep your coochie in your pants like some hormonal teenagers doesn’t mean I can’t either!”

“They’re boning,” Jimin immediately replies following your statement

“I agree,” Jiwoo reaches to high five him “The fact that she’s denying it so hard, proves it all more!”

“I don’t care if you’ve fucked him or not,” Joon adds “You’re stopping it right here, right now!” he warns before glancing at Jimin “And you, next time I assign you to take care of her, you stick to her and don’t leave her side until I say so.”

“Yes Captain,” Jimin’s grin widens as he wraps his arms around you “Got the field all covered, Jeon wouldn’t even get past the midfield to make the goal.”

“I am doing just fine not boning Jeon,” you swat his hand away as you glare at your best friend “Also it’s not like your little minion is any better than Jeon!”

“Darling, I’m sitting right here,” Jimin raises an eyebrow “That’s the second time you’ve insulted my height and I can only take so much.”

“You called me a field like I’m some sort of a fucking ball game!” you spit back at the guy in disbelief

“This is why I’m not worried about him,” Joon chimes in “You two probably kill each other before actually get to the action. In my risk analysis he’s less dangerous than Jeon at this point.”

“Your risk analysis can suck my non-existent dick!” you throw a napkin at him

“I don’t care what you say,” Joon declares firmly “Jeon is a no no, I can lend you the whole SNU’s soccer club if you need to get laid, but Jeon is too risky for you. Stay away from him.”

“Thanks for the advice grandpa,” you roll your eyes “Keep your SNU boys to yourself.”

“You can always have me all to yourself baby,” Jimin leans in to whisper against your ears when you bring the knife up close to him

“Behave Park! I have a knife in my hand!”

You sigh as he laughs and shifts away from you and all of you continue eating your dinner in peace.

You look at the guy gasping for air as he crouches down against the wall, your shaking hands immediately looking through your kit as you find the can of supplemental oxygen and rush back to him. You don’t know how you got yourself to the office when the coach told you Jeon left the game half time because he wasn’t feeling well and asked you to check on him before Dr. Kim arrives because it looked kind of serious.

You immediately made a phone call to Dr Kim as you ran with your life to the office where you hoped you’d find the guy. When you entered the office you found the guy plastered against the wall, coughing for his life, his lips parted and gasping for air, a layer of sweat on his forehead and tears in his eyes sending you to a full on panic on all the sign and symptoms of a fight or flight response you could recognize.

You kneel against him, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips “On the count of three, take a deep breath in for me-“

Your gaze falters as he slaps the can away from him and brings his dark gaze to you

“J-Jeon-“

“I don’t need your pity,” he says through gritted teeth “Get out of my face.”

“I called Dr.Kim, he told me to give you some oxygen while we wait on him,” You mutter, anger taking over your words but trying really hard to stay calm “I’ll get fired if he arrives and knows I haven’t done my job!”

“Wouldn’t that be good for you?” He scoffs raising an eyebrow “Maybe you can get a job at SNU and suck Park Jimin’s dick full time.”

“W-What?” you furrow your eyebrows “What are you talking about-“

“You went riding his dick right after you were about to fuck me IN MY FUCKING ROOM,” he raises his voice “I saw how you were straddling him on Jiwoo Nuna’s Instagram.”

Your head starts running like a clock and you feel your breath hitching in your throat, you never noticed Jiwoo taking a picture of you. But knowing the girl is a social media guru you weren’t surprised hearing she posted a photo of you giving Jimin a neck massage. And to anyone who wasn’t there that night, specially the guy sitting against you it would look as if you were doing things other than just a therapeutic massage.

“I- “you part your lips “I didn’t- “

“So, it’s just me isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow “Whenever I fucking touch you, you push me away and act all virgin Mary,” He scoffs “But You don’t have a problem humping Park Jimin’s cock like a whore, Do you?”

“Jungkook, J-Just please stop talking! “ you sigh “I can explain, it’s not what you’re thinking-”

“Is it because I’m sick?”

Your eyes widen as you look at him, trying to figure out if you actually heard him wrong “What?”

“Is it because of my asthma?” He asks, glaring at you, tears and hurt plastered on his expression “Is that why you’re turned off by me?”

“J-Jeon …” you sigh his name, heart beating fast in your chest as you try to digest his words

“What could be the reason then?” his eyes roams around the room as he lists the reasons “I’m taller than him, hotter than him, play better soccer, Fuck even my dick’s bigger than that 3 inch and you fucking know it,” he brings his hooded gaze to you “No matter how much I think about it, It’s my Asthma, that must be it!”

Your heart starts aching in your chest, all you want to do is to press your lips against the guy’s quivering lips, kissing him until you prove to him that whatever story he’s painting is not real. That you’ve never perceived him any less attractive just because of his condition. That if Joon wasn’t on your ass since the night you were at his place, you probably would have fucked him already.

But you can’t do that, and you know it very well, that if you confess that you’ve been attracted to the guy you would enter a dangerous territory that you know is risky. More important than that you can’t go against your promise with your best friend and mess with the guy he warned you against.

“I- “you gulp looking at him as you try to form the sentence but the door snaps open, revealing Dr. Kim who rushes in

“I’m here!” he declares, and you quickly distance yourself from the guy, sighing in relief

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook scenario #BTS jungkook #jungkook soccer player #jungkook soccer au #jungkook soccer #jungkook smut #offside #daddychims

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tommysparker · 4 years

Text

Man In Leather

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

A/N: Woah, two fics in a row? Crazy I know. Anyways, here is the LONG awaited fic! I’m sorry it took so long to write, but here it is. Black&White CH.2 will be the main focus of my writing until I get it done, so stay tuned for whenever the hell that comes out. Till then, enjoy :)

Warnings: smut, couple no-no words, Harrison going commando in leather pants, fluff at the end and a bit of pining, kind of Grease!AU, hints of sub!haz, bad porn with an even worse plot

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The music was loud, the people were drunk, and you were hanging around the snack table while scanning the room, solo cup filled with death juice in hand. Totally normal Friday night.

Your friends had left to go mingle, but not before encouraging you to find someone to get busy with, someone to get your mind off of him.

Your mind wandered at the thought of him. Taken back to the summer nights on the beach, the sound of waves crashing against rocks as you cuddled on the bench-swing. Those late nights and early mornings filled with passion and intimacy…only to be ripped away when autumn decided to fall.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Y/n Y/L/N,” a british accent sang over the music.

You turned your head to see the infamous Tom Holland, with Greg Birks and a boy you didn't recognize standing behind him.

“Tommy, long time no see,” you smiled. Tom had been a close friend of yours growing up, but grew apart under...unfortunate circumstances. “Thought you were too cool to hangout at shitshows like this?”

Tom laughed, “Only you would call one of the biggest parties on the block a “shitshow” darling. I’m actually here because a certain person wanted to see you,” his eyes glanced back at the guy standing next to Greg.

The boy stepped forward, and you nearly fainted right there after one look.

Harrison James Fucking Osterfield...in leather pants.

The blue-eyed boy stood composed, but on the inside you knew he was nervous. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, which was new. Who were you kidding, everything about the person that stood in front of you was new.

Last time you saw Harrison, he was wearing a cream-coloured sweater and sweatpants, hair messy and glasses pushed up on the bridge of his nose. And now, a year later, here he was. Except this time decked out in a leather jacket and white-tee, pants that honestly did not look comfortable, hair gelled back and eyes illuminated by the flashing lights.

It took a few seconds for the initial shock to wear off before you collected yourself. “H-Haz I-...I didn’t recognize you, um, you look good.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. Get it together Y/L/N.

Harrison smiled, taking in your appearance while his mind went back to the time you spent together. No matter what you were, or weren’t, wearing, you always looked incredible from his perspective. “Hi Y/n…”

Tom took one glance between you two before pulling on Greg’s arm. “We’ll let you two catch up,” he not-so-subtly winked at Haz before soon being swallowed by the crowd of pissed partiers

The air suddenly became stiff once it was just you and him, neither of you knowing what to say next. Harrison fiddled with the silver ring on his finger, something you quickly took notice of.

“That’s new...I mean, well everything about you is new. What happened to Haz who wore knit-jumpers and spec?” You questioned, genuinely curious how and more importantly why the sudden transformation from ‘library nerd’ to ‘biker gang’.

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Yeah well, the boys thought it was time for a makeover...d-do you like it?” He studied your face, hoping for a positive reaction.

You took in his attire again, except this time with more focus on how the material hugged his legs and arms tightly, and how the white-tee really brought out his eyes in the dim light, and how fucking sexy he looks with his hair gelled back like that. Oh yeah, you definitely like it.

A wave of confidence flooded your body as you grabbed the sides of his face and crashed your lips onto his. Haz, startled at first but quickly came back to his senses, kissed back almost immediately. The familiar feeling of your lips moulding with his brought back so many memories.

Stolen kisses before bed, hands all over each other, you pushing him onto the bed, holding his arms up and--

You were the first to pull away, breathing slightly heavier and a small smile forming at the corner of your mouth. “let me show you how much I love it.” You whispered in his ear, placing a gentle kiss at the edge before taking his hand and maneuvering your way to the upstairs rooms. Luckily for you, the owner of the house was a friend of a friend, so you had no problem finding a place with a decent sized bed.

Harrison followed you eagerly, more recollections passing through his mind as he felt his pants become tighter than they already were. The whole journey up the stairs was a mess between quick kisses and tripping over one another, but a remaining constant was his hand laced into yours, without any objections.

Once you both stumbled into the empty room and closed the door, Harrison pulled you into a needy make-out session. Your back was pressed against the wall while your hands wandered beneath the leather jacket, feeling his toned muscle through the thin shirt. Meanwhile, the blue-eyed boy gripped your hips, squeezing the love-handles gently causing a light hum to emit from your vocal cords. His fingers gently tugged at the hem of your shirt, and that’s when you knew it was time. The music from downstairs drowned out from both your awareness, in that moment the only thing you could focus on was each other and the burning desire that was cutting the tension in the room.

Hesitantly, you pushed Harrison off of you, not missing the soft whine he let out and the slightly hurt expression he wore on his face. It, however, was quickly replaced with a smile when crossed your arms over and pulled your top off slowly. His eyes drank in every part of your torso, thinking how someone like him ever got the chance to score someone like you.

Little did he know, you were thinking the same thing.

Once your shirt was tossed aimlessly across the room, you swiftly recaptured his lips with yours and carefully guided yourselves to the bed. Harrison followed your lead, walking backwards until his legs hit the frame and he fell on to the mattress.

Unfazed, you climbed on top of him, like a predator about to pounce on its prey. Your body hovered over his, breathing in sync as you straddled his waist. His hands went to grab your waist again, however they were quickly pushed above his head and into the duvet. Naturally, he didn’t expect anything less, and the dark look in your eyes only excited him further.

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Hazzy?” You asked, smirking when you felt something twitch against your core. Seriously, who let this man wear these pants?

The boy beneath you nodded. He knew how this worked. You were always in control, always the top, even when you weren’t. No matter how many times he’s gone down on you, it’s you who always has the authority. He wanted to be good for you, to please you like no one but him could. He wanted more than a summer fling or casual hook-up, he wanted you to be his. Only fitting seeing as, though you may not have realized it, he was already yours.

The whole reason he asked Tom to help him change his ‘style’ was to get you to take interest in him again. You were always on his mind and he needed to do everything in his power to win you back in his life, even if that meant playing dress up in order to look more appealing.

Harrison was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling your lips on his neck, hot kisses trailing up and down his throat. The sensation alone was enough to grab the attention of the little guy.

You smiled slyly as you left marks on his neck, biting and sucking on the spots you knew would gain the most reaction. The blue-eyed boy let out breathy moans beneath you, hands switching from resting on the bed, your waist, your thighs, finally settling on cupping your breasts through your bra. You sat up as he squeezed the material gently, reaching around to unclip the undergarment while Harrison struggled to take the jacket off.

Harrison heard you chuckle in amusement, blushing lightly as he finally managed to free his arm from the gripping sleeve. He didn’t hesitate to follow up by removing his shirt from the equation, which was much easier considering he was smart for once and put on a loose-fitting tee to give himself some breathing room.

You stared shamelessly at the now-shirtless man in front of you, and all-be-damned if the greek gods didn’t bless him overnight with that gorgeous build. Holy shit, is the only thing you could think of as your fingers grazed over his torso, fingers tracing every ab and indent.

Harrison squirmed under you, hips bucking up ever so slightly. He was slowly starting to get desperate and really needed any form of friction, so he took to grabbing your waist and grinding up into you, letting out a small sigh at the relief.

You gasped quietly at the sudden sensation, instinctively moving your hips in sync so you were moving in unison, the sounds of small moans filling the room. You resumed your previous actions, planting your lips on different areas on the boy’s throat, slowly moving further down to his collarbone, a.k.a the sweet spot.

Harrison mewled when he felt your teeth graze against the area, nipping and licking some of his most sensitive places. His hips moved faster while the grip on you tightened as he tried to get you to do the same. However, this apparently wasn’t the ideal.

You grabbed his wrists, pushing them into the mattress above his head. You adored how he willingly let you do this, even though he could easily turn the tables with the amount of muscle the boy packed, he still continued to submit to your needs. “Getting needy, baby boy?”

He nodded his head quickly, shifting beneath you. “Pants off, now.”

“Not with that attitude,” you teased, letting go of his hands and moving your own down to his belt.

Harrison rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his clean-shaven face. “Please will you take off my pants before they’re too tight to move in?”

You grinned, “Atta boy.”

Hooking your fingers under the waistband, slowly pulling down the piece of clothing, Haz lifting his hips to aid the process. You struggled a bit, whacking yourself in the head with your arm more than once, earning a couple giggles from both parties, before finally getting past the -ahem- obstacle that prevented you from removing the material.

Harrison audibly sighed in relief, happy to be free from his restraints.

And to your surprise, his cock slapped against his lower-stomach, red and already leaking from the head. “Going commando, handsome? You dirty boy.”

The flustered boy could only smile coyly, “In my defence, it was the easiest way to put those bloody things on.”

“That’s fair,” you replied as you wrapped your hand around the swollen member and stroked it lightly.

Haz let out a shaky breath, head leaning back as his eyes fell shut. Memories flashed before his eyes.

Your mouth on his cock, moving your head up and down swiftly while he writhed beneath you. You held eye-contact, mischievous and confidence powering your every move.

The feeling of your thighs shaking against his shoulders as he ate you out like it was the last meal he’d ever have, small whimpers coming from above while he rubbed his thumb against your clit.

His hold on your ass as you rode him, kneading the flesh and overall desperate for something to hold on to. Your breasts bouncing in front of his eyes, a hand on his chest while the other gripped his hip.

The sound of soft drawn out moans filling his ears. The feel of constantly being right on the edge, your walls squeezing him perfectly, his muscles twitching. Both backs arched in unison, a silent cry being released into the air as you both flew into total bliss.

In real time, his body was reacting to the thoughts, as if he was really experiencing each scenario. Before he knew it, Harrison’s moans grew louder as he approached his climax, he looked down at you and immediately flung his head back into the pillow, the sight of you being too much to handle.

Your tongue circled his tip, one hand pumping vigorously while the other massaged his balls. His cock twitched against your touch, but before it could reach it’s breaking point you eased up, retracting any stimulation provided and watched in amusement as Haz whined.

“Oh come on! I was so close…”

“I know,” You said while sitting up. “You didn’t think I would let you cum so soon, did you?”

Harrison shook his head slowly, blue eyes dark with lust as he watched you shimmy out of your bottoms. He took in your image, every piece of you being painted in his mind like a beautiful muse. Every stretch mark, every battle scar, your body was like a drug he was addicted to.

You straddled his waist, this time bare skin against bare skin, grinding against him. You moaned every time your clit caught against his tip. Leaning down, your mouth explored every part of his torso, tongue circling his nipples before sliding up and tracing his collarbone, your lips leaving love bites in its wake. The sight of him under you, all marked up was enough to put an end to your own game. Afterall, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were teasing him.

Harrison, as if sensing what was about to happen next, held your hips and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Th-there’s condoms in my pocket...either my jacket or pants, don’t remember.”

“Seems to me like you planned this,” You said as you got up and started searching through the discarded clothing.

The boy blushed, “Well I knew you would be here so... thought might as well take the chance,” he shrugged, subtly eyeing your ass when you bent over to pick up his jacket.

You hummed in response, smiling when you found the small square packet. You were about to put the leather down, but instead decided to put it on. You shivered a bit when the cold material touched your skin, turning around to see Harrison gaping at your new look.

“You...look really hot in that.”

You chuckled, climbing back on top and tearing the plastic away with your teeth. “According to you, I look hot in everything.”

“I’m not wrong though,” He grinned, biting his lip as he felt the latex slide down his cock. It wasn’t always ideal, but better safe than sorry.

In one swift motion, you connected like two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit. His tip nudging that spot inside you without even trying. You both let out a sigh at the familiar feeling, not moving, just letting the memory of sex on the beachhouse balcony pass through your minds, all the moments of enjoying each others presence in pure bliss.

Your own bodies betray the wishful thinking of staying in the moment. You clench around him and he moans lightly, and a simple sound like that was all you needed to set off that fire boiling inside your core.

You raise your hips until only the head of his cock is in and sink back down on his length, setting a passionate yet frantic pace, your heart wanting to feel every second but your brain forcing your body to tend to its pleasurable needs.

The room feels silent, save for sounds that follow your actions. Neither of you hear the people downstairs, nor can you feel the vibrations of the music blasting through speakers. You only hear each other’s moans, feel each other’s touch.

It goes by in a blur. At one point his mouth was on your breast, your hand was on his throat, both of you lost in the time spent together.

After all was done, you both laid in the other’s embrace, his hand playing with your hair while you traced shapes on his naked chest, the warm leather jacket increasing the sense of security you felt around him.

“You know…” You spoke suddenly, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, “You don’t have to change your clothes just to get me into you.”

Harrison tensed a little, unsure where this conversation was headed. “Yeah…? I-I guess I just figured since you were into the whole ‘Greaser’ look more...if I was like that then...maybe you’d...uh...go out with me? For real this time.”

You smiled, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his now-swollen lips. “You div, if you asked months ago you would’ve known I don’t care about what kind of pants you wear. I just want the Harrison I had last summer…”

The blue-eyed boy smiled back, “Then you have him...you’ve always had him, darling.”

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Happy Birthday Harrison!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything @halfblood-princess-505 @the-crazy-fanfictionist

Harrison Osterfield: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison x reader #harrison x y/n #harrison osterfield fanfic #grease!au #sub!haz #sub!harrison osterfield #sub!harrison #rae writes sometimes

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thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years

Text

My Best Friend’s Wedding

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader (One Sided), Robin Buckley x OC

Word Count: 7,363

Warnings: Crying, heartbreak, true love!!!!!

Author’s Note: Um...hi. So, I’m back. It’s been awhile. How are you? I’m okay, little nervous to post since my last story flopped really badly, but again I’m confident in this one and that you’ll like this story. I sure do! As always, leave some comments if you like it and criticism if you don’t I like both! I love hearing what you think!

Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @moonstruckbucky @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hawkeyeharrington @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon @buckybarneshairpullingkink @baebee35 @myrealloveissleep @allfandomxreader

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Steve Harrington was getting married. What a douchebag thing to do. Marrying the first girl to say that she loved him. You’d been doing that for twenty-one years. And he decided to marry a girl that he hadn’t even introduced to you yet. You’d been his best friend since birth. You couldn’t believe it.

He told you on your winter break. Both of you had only been home for a few days. Steve had gone to Gary to train at their police academy and you’d gone to Indianapolis for college. You both returned home for winter break. You were hoping to enjoy a couple weeks back with your best friend. You’d planned your whole break around it. But you couldn’t even get him to leave the house for ten minutes the first week home. You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d heard her voice when you called. Steve said her name was Cathy. She sounded like she was fifteen. She literally answered the phone by saying ‘yellow?’ like a damn character in Valley Girl. What a fucking joke.

To say you were jealous was an understatement. Steve was your guy. Your best friend. Your one true love. He didn’t know that part yet, but it was obvious. You had the chemistry, you had the mutual attraction, and you had the spark, that bit of electricity Steve had been in search of since you were thirteen. You were it. But there Steve was with Cathy. He brought her to dinner. She was a freshman at Ivy Tech. She was studying nursing. She had mousy brown hair and high cheekbones. She looked like Nancy Wheeler, but with a sweeter, easier going personality. She didn’t know that Steve pissed his pants after seeing Poltergeist. She was everything Steve thought he wanted. He’d be bored of her in five years.

You pouted through that dinner and the rest of the break. Steve barely paid you any mind, he was too busy flashing his hot new soon to be trophy wife around. Her round cut diamond ring on its ugly notched yellow gold band flashing in the sunlight on her pale, milky skin making your blood boil. You just knew he bought her a new ring, his grandmother’s engagement ring was much smaller and classier than what she had on. She made him buy her a new ring. God, what a fucking bitch.

You went back to Indianapolis enraged. You flew through the small towns in your crappy car to get back home. Your roommate, Robin, made it back to your tiny apartment before you did, which meant that Billy Hargrove had his feet up on your coffee table. You let out a beleaguered sigh when you saw the soles of his dirty white tube socks waving to you from atop your psychology textbooks.

“Hargrove, feet off the books. They cost more than you do.” You groaned, dropping your army style duffle bag by your door. Billy chuckled, doing as you asked. You felt his eyes run over you, which you didn’t entirely get the point of. You looked the same, although slightly greasier from your long drive home.

“You don’t know my rates, kid.” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, waving a polite hello to Robin, who was watching the scene with a bemused look from the kitchen. You headed to your bedroom without another word, hoping for solace in the solitude of your private space. You felt like dying the second your knees hit the mattress. He was leaving you. He was leaving you for a boring brunette named Cathy. He was leaving you for someone who didn’t even laugh at his jokes. The love of your life was marrying someone else. It hit you like running full force into a brick wall. Your brain felt like it was shaking in your skull, your nose crushed into your face as tears began to carve burning streams down your face and your nose turned red and stuffy. You were very aware of the fact that people were in your apartment, that if Robin was home then she’d call Beth and the three of them would probably spark up and would coming knocking on your door soon. But in that moment, you needed to cry. You needed to let go of every ill feeling that had been clogging your chest since Steve had told you of his plan.

You didn’t know how long you’d been in there for, your only sense of time being the markers of when the stereo turned on and off. When you heard a knock on your door, you didn’t move. Whoever was on the other side would just invite themselves in anyway.

“Hey, we’re going to get some food, you coming or-” Billy’s sentence came to an abrupt end when you lifted your face from the pillow, mascara streaking your cheeks. “Oh shit.” He shut the door fast. You both heard Robin yelling from behind the door for him to hurry up, but neither of you moved. Billy didn’t seem quite sure of himself, as if he didn’t know what to do now that he’d closed the door.

“I’m good, go on Hargrove.” You sighed, wiping hard at your damp and warm skin.

Billy didn’t move. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asked quietly.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” you bit back bitterly. You wished he would leave you be. Billy was the last person you wanted to see you cry, much less to be there to comfort you. He wasn’t your damn friend, you hardly knew him. He was just the guy who hung out in your living room and ate your food. He was Robin’s friend, not yours.

“What happened?” he asked, venturing closer to you.

You let out a sigh. Well, at least he wouldn’t tell Steve about this. “Harrington’s getting married.” You replied, your voice cracking. You needed a drink of water or something, crying had truly drained you.

“Isn’t he your age? You can barely drink.” He scoffed. It was almost refreshing. He seemed to not believe it as much as you did.

“Yeah, he is and he’s marrying a near stranger. They’ve only been together like eight months.” Your mouth turned up in a nauseated scowl. Billy watched your lips as they curled up in disgust. He smirked, trying to hold back a bubble of laughter. You looked so genuinely turned off by the thought, it was funny.

“So he’s an idiot. Why cry over him?” Billy asked, sitting down carefully on your bed. You pulled your legs up to your knees, wrapping your arms around them, tucking your chin behind them.

“Because he’s my idiot…” you muttered softly. Billy raised an eyebrow, egging you on. “I love him. I’ve loved him since I was ten years old…”

“Damn…” Billy breathed out.

“I know…” you replied, wiping your eyes on your long grey sleeves.

“You have awful taste.” He said. You gasped, throwing a pillow at his head. It hit with a smack, sending him falling back a bit, his big callused hands sliding back to support himself. You burst out laughing as it hit, you usually had pretty bad aim so you were shocked when it hit. You clasped a hand over your mouth, your eyes crinkling as you tried to hide your glee. Billy rolled his eyes, but his infamous smirk pulled at his lips.

“You don’t know Steve like I do!” you giggled, dodging the pillow as it came back at your head.

“And you don’t know him like I do.” Billy replied. He didn’t actually aim the pillow near your head, he knew he’d hit you square in the head and he didn’t want to hurt you. Your bedroom door flew open and Robin stood in the doorway, adjusting her leather jacket around her shoulders, the hood of her bright red hoodie poking out of the back and over the collar.

“Nerds are you coming with or are you having a sleepover? Beth and I are starving.” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest with a stern expression. You could see Beth pulling up her long brown hair behind Robin, her emerald green fitted coat buttoned up as high as it would go and her burgundy scarf tucked into it. The weather must have turned on them, the temperature dropping again.

“Geez, yeah gimme a second.” You grabbed your lavender coloured cardigan from its place on the bed next to you and pulling it around yourself as you climbed out of bed. Billy followed behind you, shrugging as Robin raised an eyebrow at him.

From that point on, Billy became your wedding confidant. As the date was set and began to loom closer and closer, he stood by you, listening to you rant about Cathy and Steve and their fucking bliss. You were going to be a bridesmaid, Cathy asked you since Steve’s mother wouldn’t let him make you a groomsman. They were having a June wedding. It was going to happen in Carmel, in the same hall his parents had gotten married in. Steve’s parents were paying for everything, including your awful magenta taffeta nightmare. Billy listened to everything you could come up with, every awful insult you’ve come up with for Cathy. He watched you laugh, you cry, you scream at the sky. For the first time in knowing you, he genuinely felt for you.

In March, you got your invitation to the wedding, along with a note from Cathy. Apparently, all her other bridesmaids had dates and that you should bring a date too, so you wouldn’t be awkward. You wanted to strangle the girl. Billy was sitting on your couch when you walked into your apartment, dropping your heavy book bag on the floor, invitation still held in hand and mouth agape.

“Hey, what’s up?” Billy asked, flicking his gaze away from the magazine in his hands.

You looked up briefly “Shouldn’t you be in class?” Billy was in trade school. He was supposed to be learning to be an electrician. Instead, he had his dirty feet on your coffee table.

“I don’t feel ready yet. What’s that?” he pointed to the eggshell coloured expensive paper in your hands.

“Oh, just my invitation to the Harrington-Bray wedding and a lovely note from the bride herself.” You smirked, kicking off your tennis shoes before joining Billy on the couch. He immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“What’s she bugging you about now?” he asked, unable to hide the small, satisfied grin that pulled at his lips as you snuggled into him. He was glad that your attention was still on the invitation.

Yeah, he was utterly fucked over you. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it to himself. He would never admit it to anyone else, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t have feelings for you. He did. Sometime between finding you crying in your bedroom and now, he’d fallen head over feet into a pit of mushy gushy feelings that he hadn’t had to tackle before and he couldn’t escape. Before you, women fell into about three categories: old ladies in charge, women he could fuck, and women he wouldn’t fuck. But you didn’t fit into any category. Well, I mean you fit very neatly into the women he’d fuck category, but you were more than that. He wanted to make you happy, to help you when you’re upset and to harm anyone who hurt you, and to protect you from harm’s way. You felt precious and special to him, something he didn’t quite know how to tackle. So, he ignored it. He hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heart pounded in his chest as he looked over the invitation you held loosely in your right hand.

“Well, Cathy has informed me that all her other bridesmaids have dates and that, to not stand out, I should bring one too. Because wouldn’t it be fucking loopy if I didn’t have a damn date.” You huffed out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

Billy paused for a moment. Then, squeezing his eyes shut, he took a risk, his first in months. “I’ll go with you if you need a date.” He said.

You furrowed your brow “Why would you want to go? You hate Steve.” You asked.

“Well, for one thing watching Harrington make the biggest mistake of his life in a monkey suit will be pretty funny.” He said, earning a smack in the chest from you. “And for another, I want to help you out. You need a date, I’m there.”

You picked up your invitation, looking it over sceptically. “Are you sure? I mean it’s in the beginning of June, I don’t want to drag you away from your finals or anything, I don’t know when you’re done school for the year…”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal, my exams are in a couple weeks anyway.” Billy replied with a shrug. Even if his finals were during that week, he would’ve skipped them to go with you. He wanted, no he needed to be there with you. He didn’t give two shits about Harrington, he could make mistakes whenever, but he had to be there to hold your hand when you needed him to.

“You’re gonna have to wear a monkey suit too you know.” You said with a small smirk.

“Its fine, I think mine still fits from my dad’s funeral.” He replied. You sat up, pulling a pen from the spirals of one of your forgotten notebooks and checked off the ‘plus one’ option on your invitation.

“Chicken or Steak?” you asked, checking off the chicken option for yourself. “Oh and also? You can’t laugh at me in my dumb dress. I got sent pictures of it and it’s bad. It’s really bad.”

“Steak and I won’t. I’ll be too busy laughing at everything else.” He chuckled, earning another smack in the chest from you before you checked off the plus one card Cathy’s expensive invitations had provided.

For the next two months, you did everything you could to ignore Cathy’s calls. She invited you to the bridal shower and the bachelorette party, both of which you refused with the same excuse. Steve called you twice to bitch you out. The third time he called to complain, you actually fought back.

“Y/N, can you please try with Cathy? She’s trying to be nice.” Steve groaned. You were sat on the couch, having forced Robin to turn down the radio so you could actually hear Steve on the other end. She and Beth were just making out anyway; they didn’t need to have it up so loud anyway. Hearing Debbie Gibson on top volume didn’t make anything more romantic.

“I am trying; I’m in her bridal party aren’t I? I’m coming up three days before the wedding to help her get ready. Isn’t that enough?” you tried, twirling the phone cord around your fingers.

“She was really upset that you didn’t come up for her bridal shower or her Bachelorette party.” Steve replied.

“I had exams during her bridal shower and I couldn’t afford to take the time off work for the party. I’m not rich like your families are Steve. I have rent to pay and classes to pass. If I fail, I don’t have a soft place to land like you do Steve.” That wasn’t exactly the kindest thing to say in the moment, but you were tired of this conversation. You felt like you’d been having it for weeks.

“That’s not fair, Y/N, you know that’s not how my life is.” Steve said.

“Oh really? Then why are your parents paying for your whole wedding? Why is your dad holding a job for you at his company? Why is Cathy already invited to the country club with full membership? Why does she spend her breaks at her family’s ski lodge in Aspen? Steve, you’re not as put upon as you like to act. I’m doing everything in my power to be there for you and Cathy, but my life and experiences are different than yours.”

Steve hung up without a reply, effectively ending the conversation there. You hung up the phone with a slam, crossing your arms over your chest. What a fucking jerk! He didn’t have the right to treat you like shit, especially over damn Cathy. You’d been his best friend for over a decade and you’d been trumped by a little skinny Minnie with no tits. A rich bitch with a collection of tennis skirts and preppy pastel blazers to rival Princess Diana herself. She wasn’t supposed to be his best friend, his choice for the rest of his life. That was supposed to be your job. You were supposed to be the person who made him happy, not some country clubber. And yet your place was glowing in the horizon. Behind the holy Cathy, your spotlight dimmed and left behind to wail your song alone under the ghost light. Except your song was bursting from your broken heart.

You wouldn’t stand for being left behind for some bitch named Cathy.

There was only thing to do. It was something you were avoiding doing since you were twelve years old.

Billy came to pick you up for the long journey to Carmel even though he didn’t have to be there until the sixth. You both refused to stay in Hawkins, too many bad memories there. He was staying in the same hotel as you. You were going a couple days early for your dress fitting and to tote Cathy around. But that wasn’t the reason you were nervous sitting in Billy’s leather seats. You had to find Steve once you got there.

Of course, Billy was nervous too. This trip was going to end in heartbreak. You were going to watch the love of your life marry someone else. And Billy was going to watch you cry knowing that he would never hurt you like this. He would sit there and try to not let it show how much it hurt to watch you be in pain. The ride to Hawkins was tense and silent, safe for Billy’s static filled radio switching between talk radio and the hits of the day, depending on what frequency it picked up. Neither of you try to fix it. You both were too anxious to bother.

When you arrived in Carmel, Mrs. Harrington and sweet little Cathy were at your hotel. You were whisked off to your fitting and then lunch in Carmel. You left Billy in the dust that day, forced to grapple with the town that tried to kill him twice and almost succeeded. He spent the day in his hotel room and you spent your day trying to get to Steve.

Day two was a free day, safe for the rehearsal dinner that night, beginning at the church. You were told implicitly to bring your date to the dinner, as Cathy had laid out a spot for you both at the wedding table. There you met her three other bridesmaids, her sister Jessica, her cousin Ellen, and her best friend Kelly. All three of them looked nearly identical, with matching shoulder length hair cuts and pristine white pleated tennis skirts. All their boyfriends looked the same too, with their pastel polos and white padded blazers. They all shook Billy’s hand as if it was dirty. The girls looked at the pair of you like you were white trash.

You didn’t find Steve first, Billy did. The meeting didn’t exactly go well. You’d gone to the bathroom and when you returned Billy and Steve were staring each other down with the same intensity that they did in high school. You parted them quickly, smiling at Steve sympathetically.

“What is he doing here, Y/N?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

“He’s my date, Steve, he’s a friend of mine.” You replied simply, pushing Billy away as he tried to come back into the situation. Steve scoffed loudly, but turned away without another word. You turned to Billy quickly. “What the hell was that, dude?”

“I just came over to say hello and he got in my face!” Billy cried, pointing at his back as Steve stalked away.

“Can you just keep your chill for a day? Please? For me?” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

Billy’s expression softened instantly and he nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll try.” He said.

“Thank you,” you said “I’m going to try to talk to Steve, hang tight okay?”

Billy nodded and you headed towards where you saw Steve go. He had headed out the main entrance, to where Cathy would be sent when they were ready to begin the rehearsal. You wiped your sweating palms on your royal blue skirt. You took in a deep breath through your nose and pushed open the heavy wooden doors, to find Steve Harrington practically ripping out his hair.

“Steve?” you asked quietly. He turned to look at you, his expression not changing when he saw you.

“You couldn’t have brought anyone else, could you?” he bit out, pulling his hands through his hair one more time before crossing his arms over his chest.

“He asked, I agreed. He’s not the same guy he was here.” You replied, adjusting your purse strap.

“Bullshit,” he chuckled coldly “He’s still the same douche he was a couple years ago. Nobody changes that much.”

“You did.” Steve went to retort you, but closed his mouth without speaking a word. You pressed on “Robin trusts him, they’re pretty much best friends, and I trust him. He’s been really good to me these past few months. Been my friend while my best friend was missing in action.”

Steve was silent for a moment. “I’ve been busy, Y/N, I had to help plan a wedding.” He muttered.

“And I’m supposed to be my best friend. That doesn’t change when you get a girlfriend. You promised me that, remember? After Wheeler that was our deal. And you broke that with her.” You replied.

“Don’t call Cathy ‘her’. She’s not just some girl.” Steve snapped.

“Why didn’t you introduce me before you got engaged? You had the time, it wasn’t like you just met her. I didn’t even know that you were even seeing anyone seriously.” You replied, matching his tone.

“Because, sometimes a man likes to have his secrets! What, Hargrove over there not keeping anything from you?” Steve cried. The large church doors opened again and revealed Cathy, shuffling in her Mary-Jane’s with a shy expression.

“Honey?” she asked, drawing Steve’s attention and softening his expression instantly “We’re ready to start if you are.”

“Just, give me one second, okay sweetie?” he said, his tone softer and kinder with her. He turned to you with a less than kind expression, nodding for you to head to your group. When you didn’t move, he spoke “You should go with Cathy, go learn your job.”

You left without a word. The rest of the rehearsal went by in a blur. You were put second in line to enter the church, supposedly and were given the role of train fixer before Cathy walked into the church. You were given specific instructions on how to hold your bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath in front of you. You went through the walk in and then listened to the pair go over the ceremony with the pastor in charge of marrying them. Supposedly they’d written their own vows. You looked to Billy, who looked utterly bored with the other boyfriends. When the rehearsal ended, you were all told to join the Harrington’s at their home for dinner.

Steve grabbed your arm as you were leaving the church. You hung back without a word as he told Cathy to go on without him. “Look,” he began once his fiancé had passed “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I was out of line. I was just surprised when I saw you and Hargrove together. It weirded me out. But I’m okay now.”

“Look, it’s whatever, you don’t like him and that’s fine. I’m a bit tired, will you apologize to your mom to me? I’m gonna bail on the dinner.” You replied with a small shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was seventy-five degrees outside but you were freezing.

“Are you sure? I don’t think it will be a big deal…” Steve said, his warm hands coming to your bare shoulder, warming your skin and melting your heart.

“Nah,” you chuckled “Besides, you don’t really want Hargrove in your house anyway, right? Just tell your mom we went home.”

Steve laughed “That’s fair,” he released your arm “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Duh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You elbowed him in the arm before heading off. Billy was watching from the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes trained on the ground. You ran up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s blow this pop stand.” You said with a cheeky grin.

“Where’re we going, princess?” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. He usually wouldn’t do that, but then again you didn’t usually wrap yourself around him in public. He took the chance on you pulling away for a moment to hold you.

“Benny’s? If it’s still open, I guess.” You replied. The idea of Benny’s not being open anymore hit you like a truck. How much had Hawkins changed since you left?

Evidently, not that much. The Harrington’s still lived on Pine Street and Benny’s was still open, its owner having been dead for almost seven years. You found yourself in its yellowed dining room, eating greasy burgers and fries while discussing the old days here. You weren’t friends with Billy in high school and you hardly paid him much mind, so all his stories were fresh to you. He told you all about his whoring days and his wild child moments. How he broke into the library to screw around with Diana Krass and denied breaking a window when the police came around. He was the reason the library got security cameras. You nearly died when he told you about catching Melissa Rankers and Caroline Spears writing out someone’s phone number in the boy’s locker room. A ‘For a good time call’ situation. You made him laugh his ass of when you told him it was yours and all the crazy calls you got that year from desperate boys looking for phone sex. He couldn’t top your story about how Tommy Hanson called you after his breakup with Carol and would not believe that you weren’t a phone sex operator. The fact that you knew what his sex noises were disturbed you both. You spent your evening laughing and joking with Billy.

It felt like you were hanging out with Steve. But different. You closed down Benny’s and drove around till almost five in the morning. You barely made it to bed.

You were woken up at ten by your hotel room phone ringing off the hook. Mrs. Harrington, Cathy, Ellen, Jessica, and Kelly were all here in room two thirteen. You had to join them to start getting ready. Apparently, there were mimosas. The call made you feel more exhausted than you felt when you woke up. But you went, grabbing your makeup and the robe the hotel provided, padding over to their room.

The group was rowdy. You were introduced to Cathy’s mother, who hugged you like she meant it. She seemed to have already indulged in a few mimosas before you’d even arrived. You spent your morning mostly drinking and waiting around. They only had one makeup artist and one hair stylist who were styling everyone and no one had decided on how you should look. You ended up looking like a clown, your hair too big and blown out for your face and your makeup hair too bright. And your dress was worse in person. You’d tried it on in the shop, but in natural lighting you got the full picture. Horrid satin and taffeta all the same shade of sickly magenta, with a tulle filled a-line skirt and scratchy puff sleeves and a square neckline. This dress did nothing for your chest and hips, not that your hair and makeup was helping. You pulled a bit of baby’s breath out of your bouquet and tucked it into your up-do. Apparently, you were supposed to bring your own jewellery and hair accessories, so the bit of greenery would have to suffice. You tucked your feet into the matching heels and smoothed your skirt, looking over the other bridesmaids. Jessica looked alright in the dress, but overall all four of you looked a bit like clowns.

And then, Cathy appeared. And she looked just as bad! She seemed thoroughly disappointed, but trying to hide it with a tight lipped smile. Her dress seemed to be modeled on Princess Diana’s, with its off the shoulder cream puff sleeves and sweetheart neckline, but where on Princess Diana it looked royal on Cathy it looked cheap. Her skirt seemed a bit too big to move in and the big bow on the small of her back seemed silly. She didn’t look happy with her dress, but she simply adjusted her veil and fixed her cherry red lipstick, nodding at her reflection. Her mother appeared behind her in a bright purple sparkly number with a matching jacket, complete with shoulder pads. Her eyes were misty. Clearly, this was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Your little group headed downstairs to your town cars and you headed to the church. You hoped Billy had made it to the church on time. You hoped Robin and Beth had made it into town and that no one had stopped them or shunned them for being gay. Most of all, you hoped you could hold it together through this thing.

The ceremony took a long time to start. You contemplated going to find Steve. To tell him how you feel, to convince him to run away. But something kept you right where you stood in the church’s entrance way. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t ruin his happy day. Steve loved Cathy today. Maybe he wouldn’t tomorrow, in six months, in a year or twenty-but today he loved her. And you wanted him to be happy. So you’d shut your mouth and let him have this. But as the ceremony started and you began your walk up to him at the altar, your heart shattered. In another life, that would be you he was waiting for. But it was Cathy. You couldn’t watch them during the ceremony. You kept your eyes on Billy, who was only watching you. His steely blue eyes on yours kept you calm as tears bubbled in your eyes and emotion clogged your throat.

When it all ended, you rushed to get out of the church. Billy’s arm came around you the second he found you. He let you cry into his white dress shirt and ruin it with your makeup filled tears. He held you till your breathing evened out, then he wiped your cheeks and led you to his car.

“Did Robin make it okay?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you adjusted your skirts. Billy stood holding your door, waiting to shut you into the car. He narrowed his eyes, looking you over the same way he did when he first found you crying over Steve all those months ago.

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” he asked.

You smiled, your expression still watery. “No, but it’s what I’d rather think about.” You said. Billy frowned, shutting the door and walking to his own, popping it open and climbing in.

“Yeah, they made it in fine. They sat in the back and, according to Beth, they spent the whole time making fun of Cathy’s butt bow. And your dress.” He explained, turning on the engine.

“I look awful, don’t I?” you asked. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, your mind was all over the place.

“No!” Billy corrected, looking into the rear view as he backed out of his spot before turning out of the parking lot. “You look like a beautiful Kool-Aid man.” You smacked him hard in the shoulder, gasping loudly. Billy laughed at this, looking you over. You really did look beautiful, despite the awful dress. Nothing could muffle your beauty.

“Your makeup…um…it ran a little bit. There are some tissues in the glove compartment…” he added, looking away. You flipped down the mirror to look yourself over. Your tears had carved black stripes down your cheeks, washing away your foundation and destroying your blush and eyeliner. You sighed, popping open the glove compartment and pulled out a handful of tissues, wetting them with your own spit and wiping away the makeup as best you could.

“Oh god, I look awful. I can’t believe I walked around like this.” You groaned, rubbing at the garish pink blush painted like rosacea on your cheeks. That makeup artist had something against you.

“You look fine, don’t worry about it. Cathy looked worse than you, her hair looked like it hurt.” Billy replied as you wiped away the bubblegum pink lipstick from your lips. Billy tried not to watch you and your puffy lips, focusing hard on the road ahead.

“I look better, now that I’m getting this shit off my face.” You replied, focusing on getting the shit brown eye shadow off your lids. Once you toned it down, you felt a bit better. They’d already taken all the pictures they needed outside the church, you didn’t need to keep up appearances now.

Billy pulled into the parking lot of the reception hall and let you out quickly. He offered you his hand before you walked in and you didn’t let it go until dinner was served. Throughout the couples making the rounds to the tables during cocktail hour and the speeches before the meal was served, you squeezed his hand whenever you felt yourself getting emotional, grounding yourself to him and to something safe. You made your rounds to Robin and Beth, who looked much better than you. They laughed at your little ensemble and made you do a full spin to really show off the skirt. They laughed far too hard at you, but Billy didn’t even chuckle. As soon as you were done, his arm came right back around you. Robin and Beth exchanged a look that you couldn’t quite interpret. You returned to your seat when dinner was served and sat through a nauseating round of the newlywed game while they served dessert. Billy made sure to distract you when the questions got too lovey-dovey, cracking jokes in your ear and, when in doubt, covering your ears.

But he couldn’t protect you from the first dance. As it turns out, Jessica fancied herself a singer and was tasked with performing the couple’s song. Steve and Cathy went to the dance floor as the slow piano intro to Elvis Presley’s I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You began to flow through the room. Jessica’s nasal voice took the lead vocals, crooning out the opening lines “Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you…” the song was so cliché for the wedding. You tried to mock it to keep away the emotion, but it was all too much. The tears began to fall as Cathy’s head came to Steve’s shoulder.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes; something’s were meant to be…”

Billy’s hand squeezed yours. His heart was breaking, watching you try to hold back tears as Steve and Cathy danced in their own blissful bubble. As the chorus came around again, you broke away, rushing to the nearest exit. You both knew that you couldn’t take anymore. Billy followed behind you without a second’s hesitation.

He found you in the lobby, hands crushed to your face. He wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling your back to him. “Oh, please, leave me alone Bill. I need to be alone…” you sobbed.

“I won’t leave out here to cry alone, Y/N, you’re not alone.” He replied, holding you tighter.

“I love him, Billy…” you cried, turning in his arms to press your face into his chest “Why doesn’t he love me?”

“Because…because he’s an idiot, Y/N, any man would be lucky to have you love him.” He replied, petting your hair softly. It felt stiff from hairspray, but he didn’t care. As selfish as it was, this was the best part of his day. Having you hold him like you loved him.

“What does she have that I don’t have? I’ve been there for him his whole life. And suddenly this girl is his whole world. I’ve spent so long trying to maintain a place in his life and this girl can just show up and get a spot without question.” You muttered. That felt selfish to say, but you felt as though you earned a bit of selfish thinking.

“Because Steve lives in his own world. And we just orbit it. But you? You deserve to be someone’s whole world. You deserve to be the first person someone thinks of in the morning and the last thing they think of at night. You deserve all that cheesy shit because you’re worth it.” He said quickly, pulling you away from his chest to look you in the eye. You looked so small and vulnerable in his arms.

“Why am I always trying to love someone who doesn’t give a damn about me?” you chuckled sadly, running your hands up and down the smooth material of Billy’s suit jacket.

In this moment, Billy had a choice. He could go the easy way or the hard way. Billy chose the easy way most of the time, he coasted through life without trying very often for anything. If it didn’t come easy, then he wasn’t going to work to have it. But today, for the first time since he came back the second time, he chose the hard choice.

“Y/N, watching you moon over Harrington is the single hardest thing I have done in my life, that man is an idiot,” Billy said firmly, squeezing your waist slightly to ground himself to the moment.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to burden you with all of this, I-”

“He’s an idiot for not loving you.” Billy cut you off, silencing you with a look. He looked anxious. You’d never seen him anxious before.

“He’s an idiot because you’re so easy to love. I fell in love with you two weeks after I found out about Harrington and I don’t love girls. I don’t. I didn’t think it was in my damn DNA but here you are, with your pretty eyes and your jokes and your smile and I fell for you so fast. And watching you chase after Harrington, cry over Harrington, rant and rave about that damn asshole killed me! Because he’s not worth it! Look, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, you probably don’t, but please move on from him. You deserve the world, not a stupid spot in someone else’s.”

Billy was out of breath when he finished his little speech, staring into your eyes as your tears dried and your mouth fell open.

“Your…you’re in love with me?” you asked slowly. Your mouth felt dry and arid, your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.

“Yeah, shocking I know.” Billy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He tried to pull away from you, but you refused to let go. Your hands came up to his cheek, stroking the skin there briefly before placing a feather light kiss on his lips, tentative and slow. You were unsure of yourself, unsure if you were even in the right mind to make this kind of choice, but all your worries melted away when your lips touched. It wasn’t the fireworks Steve had been describing for your entire adolescence, it was safe and comforting. Your heart filled with joy, you worries fell away. Suddenly, without warning, you were home. You were home in his arms and you were home on his lips. You hadn’t felt at home since Steve hugged you goodbye when you made the trek to college. But home wasn’t with Steve anymore, he had his own home with Cathy now. But home could be with Billy.

He pulled away first, pushing you back by your shoulders. “You don’t have to do this, Y/N, it’s okay I understand-”

“Billy,” you silenced him instantly “I don’t kiss anyone unless I want to. I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you. Look,” you sighed, scuffing the toe of your ugly wedding shoes on the linoleum, looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know how I feel about anything right now, I’m not certain, but I feel safe with you. I like you. Platonically and romantically. And all I want is to feel safe with someone. So, can we try?”

Billy looked your face over, his big callused hand coming to your cheek, wiping a stray teardrop from your lower lashes. You nuzzled into the warmth of his palm. He moved his hand to under your chin, pulling your lips to his, kissing you harder and deeper than before, wrapping his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush with him.

This was all he wanted. The moment he dreamed of. Thinking about you made him feel weak, like a pathetic child. But having you in his arms, it made him feel like it was okay to be weak. That he didn’t have to be strong all the time. You made him feel strong, even when he was acting weak and vulnerable. He felt secure with you. That wasn’t a luxury he took for granted.

The kiss awoke the last bit of feeling you were missing with him. Billy was golden haloed, bright like the sun and shining. He was solid and present, a lighthouse in a storm. He was your rock. You hadn’t realized that you’d been clinging to him until he almost disappeared. He didn’t know you like Steve, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

When Billy let you go, the smile that spread across your face was impossible to hide. Billy’s expression matched yours, a genuine smile from a guy who rarely did more than smirk. The look melted your heart even more, turning goo into pure liquid.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Are you sure? You don’t exactly do this every day.” You countered, smacking him in the chest lightly.

Billy rolled his eyes “Oh shut up, I’m trying here.” You smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Come on, let’s go back in before people start asking questions. I don’t want Cathy in my business, she’s so nosey.” You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in yours.

“Oh, total Carol? I heard her and Tommy talking shit in the back about your dress. Want me to beat him up?” Billy replied, following you back into the hall.

You gasped “No!” Billy laughed loudly, shaking his head. The band had started up again and the leader asked for all the lovers in the room to join the bride and groom on the floor. “I just want to dance, alright?” Billy nodded and let you lead him onto the floor. You wrapped yourself in his arms again, placing your head on his chest and listened to his heart beat.

The day wasn’t perfect, and it certainly didn’t end the way you expected it to, but in Billy’s arms, you felt okay with how it went. You weren’t with Steve Harrington, but that wasn’t something to cry over anymore. Billy Hargrove was here to make you feel invincible again.

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shigarakis-fifth-hand · 4 years

Text

Bakugo x Reader; Catch Ya Later

💥 Enjoy the series! one two three

💥 Bakugo paced down the hall, back and fourth. Only one thing was on his mind... you.

💥 Your beautiful face... the image of Aizawa carrying you away. Your body burning as Todoroki’s fireball sending you into the window. The sound of glass shattering... The last image of your face in his mind as he told you to run to get the bomb, before Shoto burned you. It had happened within seconds, and Bakugo had never gotten to say goodbye.

💥 “Bakugo!” Katsuki looked up from his desk to see Kirishima shaking him.”Bro! Get up! Nezu called us up to his office!” Bakugo got up from his desk, quickly walking down the hallway with Aizawa, Mina, Kirishima, and Todoroki until they got to Nezu’s office, All Might and Shinso from 1-B sitting on one of the chairs already.

💥 “Is Y/n okay Sensei?” Mina asked, rushing to sit next to All Might. “Who’s with her right now?” Todoroki asked, noticing that none of the teacher’s were with her. “Where the fuck is she?! She’s not in recovery girl’s office, I’ve checked!” Bakugo yelled as Nezu put his paws up, telling them to stop.

💥 “Do not worry, Y/n is in the finest hospital in this area. I have called you here to confront that you all have the exact same class schedules as Y/n. I can only ask that at least one of you carry her things for her.” Bakugo and Shinso immediately stood up. “I’ll do it!” They both yelled at the same time.

💥 “Anyways, I’m going back to the hospital now, three of you can fit in my car.” Aizawa stopped the arguing as the three guys stood up.

💥 “What? We want to see-”, “You’ll see her later!!” Bakugo shoved Mina and Kir back in their seats. “Alright, it’s decided. Shouta, please pull around your car and allow these fine gentlemen to go see their friend. Kirishima and Mina, you can go back to class. Thank you for your time.” Nezu smiled as everyone except All Might walked out.

💥 “Nezu, what is your plan with Young Y/n? Her power is dangerous like her aunt, and it’ll only grow stronger.” All Might asked concernedly, worried about you.

💥 “She’s easily the strongest student there, no matter what Deku might have from you. I can only believe she’ll do great things, but again, I know that being a child model isn’t easy. I can only try and help make her life as normal as possible, until she becomes the world’s greatest hero.” Nezu smiled, easing All Might’s concerns.

...

💥 Aizawa, Shoto, Shinso, and Katsuki all drove in the car towards the hospital, sitting in pure silence. Aizawa had forced Bakugo to sit up front, making sure he didn’t rip the heads off the other two. “So can you tell me why someone from 1-B is here?” Bakugo looked in the mirror, staring Shinso in the eyes. “I’m one of Y/n’s best friends for your information. We had a movie night last night.”

💥 Bakugo’s eyes widened in confusion as he turned around. “What the hell?! Y/n is staying in an Airbnb until she moves her furniture into her new dorm.” Bakugo explained as Shinso yelled. “God, you read that magazine about her?! What a creep. She’s not staying in an Airbnb, she’s staying with my dads and I.” Bakugo looked at Aizawa, his eyes even wider. He was so confused.

💥 “Y/n is staying with you and Present Mic?! Seriously?” He asked as Aizawa just nodded. “Yes, do you have an issue with that?” Aizawa asked as Bakugo grunted, slumping down in his seat. Aizawa couldn’t help but smile. He hoped that his son would date Y/n. When they got to the hospital, the boys couldn’t help but practically race each other to the front of the hospital and to her room. “Boys!” Aizawa’s voice boomed down the hallway, stopping them before going inside.

💥 “Now, I need to warn you about something. First, she hasn’t eaten and she’s been given a lot of drugs so she’s loopy. Also, she’s going into surgery later, but she doesn’t know that so... don’t mention it. She’s absolutely terrified. Also, be prepared for her to look... bad. With the lost of blood, the glass cutting a main vain, and the third degree burns, it’s not’s pretty.”

💥 Aizawa opened the door, letting the boy’s eyes widen in shock. Y/n was connected to an oxygen mask, with bandages wrapped around her arms, legs, chest, and neck. She looked like an angel, dressed in white with her hair flowing and a bright light on her pretty face. “She practically flew into that window, so the glass shards cut her everywhere.”

💥 The boys looked at Present Mic talking, holding Y/n’s hand as he looked at her worryingly. “You just missed her. She was in so much pain, they had to give her so much stuff to make her fall asleep.” Todoroki walked over to Y/n, running his hands through her hair. “I’m so sorry for causing you pain. I’ll never lay a finger on you until you forgive me.” He whispered to you as Bakugo walked up to him.

💥 “Forgive you?! You blasted her with a fireball and sent her flying into a window! You could have killed her if she would have fallen through the window! How can she forgive you for that?” Bakugo screaming, getting all up in Shoto’s face.

💥 “You hypocrite! Don’t blame me when you’re the one who told her to run for it! You would have rather stayed behind the protection of the wall and have her get the bomb, knowing I was nearby, then possibly going with her. No, you stayed there and hid like the coward you are!” Todoroki screamed, causing Y/n to begin to wake up.

💥 “I’m not near as guilty as you! She is in this hospital bed because of you! You’re a monster who hurts people!” Bakugo yelled, Aizawa beginning to hold Bakugo back from punching Todoroki. “How can you call yourself a hero when you can’t protect the girl you love?! You’re a coward who focuses on only yourself!”

💥 Present Mic finally stepped between the two, gesturing to Y/n, who was now awake. Of course, Shinso was the first to get to her though. “Shinny? What’s going on?” You asked, opening your eyes and trying to adjust to the bright light shining down on you.

💥 “Nothing Y/n, everything is okay. Just some morons who don’t have decent respect. Go back to sleep.” He petted your hair as Bakugo and Todoroki walked around the bed, trying to get your attention.

💥 “Bakugo? Shoto? Come here.” You put out your hand, Bakugo being the first to grab it. “Y/n, how are you doing?” Shoto asked, looking at your beautiful face. Under drugs and horrible hospital lighting, you were still breath-takingly gorgeous.

💥 “You have no idea. Sure, the hospital thing isn’t great, but have you tried this weird air they give you to make you go to sleep? It’s the bessttttt.” You smiled, totally out of it as you looked around. “Hey guyssss. Can I talk to Bakugo? I need to tell him somethinggggg.”

💥 You whispered as Shinso gave Bakugo the death-stare. “I don’t know Y/n, he had a habit of getting you hurt. Are you sure?” Reluctantly, everyone left the room as you nodded, leaving you and Bakugo.

💥 “I didn’t have anything important to say, I just wanted to look at you.” Bakugo nervously sweated as you looked at his face, a small smile on your lips. “Did anyone tell you how pretty you are Katsuki? Man, I’d kiss you now if I wasn’t wearing a mask.” Bakugo was taken aback by your comment. “Really? Do you... like me?” Bakugo hesitantly asked as you smiled.

💥 “Duh silly. You’re so cute, and when you’re not yelling your voice is really comforting. I’ve had time to think here, and I realize that we’d make a pretty good couple. You’re the beast to my beauty.” You winked, smiling big as he couldn’t help but grin like a nerd.

💥 “Good, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I’m tired.” Before Bakugo could say anything else, she slipped into sleep. “I love you Katsuki.” she whispered, before beginning to quietly snore. A blush rose to Katsuki’s cheeks and a smile rose to his lips as the guys walked back in.

💥 “What happened?” Todoroki asked, seeing that she was again asleep. “Oh nothing much, just her confessing her undying love for me.” The boys rolled their eyes as they walked to the couch next to her bed, sitting down to stare at her.

💥 Minutes passed until Aizawa brought them food, handing it to them. Shinso was passed out, and Todoroki and Bakugo were playing on their phones. “Here you go. Let’s wake up Y/n, she needs to eat this.” Aizawa handed his husband and the three kids each a fast food bag.

💥 “Agree. Y/n? Y/n? Wake up sweetie.” Present Mic lovingly shook her awake, until Bakugo felt tapping on his shoulder. It was Shoto, gesturing to the hallway. Bakugo reluctantly followed him outside of the room, closing it behind him.

💥 “Alright, I’m sick of it. I’m tired of seeing Y/n soften up to you because you act nice around her. You’re not fooling any of us. Now I’m going to ask you to stop going after her. She’s mine.” Todoroki exclaimed intimidatingly, his eyes glaring into Bakugos.

💥 “I’m not going down without a fight IcyBitch. She loves me.” Bakugo grunted, a small explosion coming from his hand. “Fine then. Tomorrow night, we fight, using our quirks. The first one to surrender loses.” Todoroki challenged him as Bakugo nodded.

💥 There was no way he was losing this.

💥 Suddenly, they both heard your screaming coming from the other room. Running back in, they saw you crying. “No, no! Please don’t make me! Please!” Bakugo walked over to you, trying to understand what was happening.

💥 “No, please. You know how terrified I am. What if I don’t come out?? Please!” Tears spilled down your face as Aizawa tried to comfort you. “Sweetie, you won’t be able to feel it. They use anesthetia when you have surgery.” But nothing was working. You were terrified of surgery.

💥 Two nurses walked into the room, turning a knob to the right. “This’ll put her back to sleep.” She whispered before walking back out. “Please don’t make me! I’m going to die. I’m going to” You stopped talking, falling back into sleep.

💥 Bakugo couldn’t help but shed a tear. He had never seen you cry or be scared, and it broke his heart.

💥 The next hour flew by quickly, everyone watching Y/n as she slept, Bakugo replaying the last moments in his head as the nurse finally kicked them out.

💥He could only hope that Y/n had meant what she had said.

Taglist: @fourteenow @fluffymarshmellowca

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p4lparker · 4 years

Text

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

#stiles x reader #stiles smut

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always-anxious612 · 4 years

Text

My Love

Description: Roman has a crush but is also an insecure mess.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Paring: Logince

Warnings: crying, panic attack, self deprecation (let me know if I missed anything)

Roman had a problem. How did he know he had a problem? Well, it was fairly obvious by the way his face was flushed, by the way the butterflies danced in his stomach, by the way he so uncharacteristically stumbled over his words. What was his problem you ask? Logan. He—He liked him…a lot. It wasn’t his fault that the way the nerd’s eyes lit up when he talked about something he liked was so endearing, or that the logical side’s laugh, however rare, was so beautiful. It wasn’t his fault that Logan was just…so amazing. Roman sighed, looking down at the script he was supposed to be writing. He had been wracking his brain for days, trying to finish it on time. Now, Logan needed it by the end of the day, and Roman couldn’t disappoint him. He had already done enough of that. At the thought, the lovesick grin that had been on his face a moment before slowly slid off.

Right. He had disappointed Logan far too much to be hoping for a relationship with him. Logan hated him. Roman was the complete opposite of him, pure fantasy and big dreams, no logic allowed. He rubbed at his tired eyes before trying to focus back on his work. He could feel a headache coming on, and it seemed his poor sleeping schedule over the past few days only made him feel worse. He was a mess.

He didn’t even realize another sigh had slipped from his lips or that there was another person in his room until someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Roman, I presume that’s the script you’re working on?” a familiar monotone voice asked. Roman swallowed down a sudden nervous lump in his throat and turned to face Logan.

“That it is, my dear nerd. It shall be ready for your inspection in due time.” He announced, sincerely hoping his words were true.

“Excellent…Are you alright Roman? Your face seems to be quite flushed. Do you have a fever? If you’re sick, you needn’t worry yourself with the script today.” Logan offered. Roman felt his face burn even more at Logan’s attentive stare.

“No, No I’m fine, my love.” He replied trying to wave him o—wait, no. He didn’t. He couldn’t have just—

Logan blinked at him in surprise, confirming his worst fear. He had just called Logan my love. Right in front of his face.

“Roman, I—”

“Ok, I’ll have the script to you soon. Alright? Alright goodbye then!” Roman panicked, shoving Logan out of the room and slamming the door. He couldn’t believe it. How could he be such an idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Roman sucked in a breath and slid down his door to rest on the floor.

“I’m such an idiot.” he whispered to himself, feeling hot tears start to slide down his face.

Pathetic he chastised in his head. Crying over a small slip up. But—what if Logan never talked to him again outside of their roles in the video? If Logan hadn’t hated him enough before, he’d definitely hate him now. Roman sniffed, rubbing at his eyes; but attempting to stop the tears was futile. He just—

“Roman, please.” A voice on the other side begged. “You didn’t give me a chance to respond.” Logan’s voice only worsened Roman’s pain. He gasped, clutching his chest. This was pathetic. Panicking over a saying two simple words. Roman felt the door bump against his back.

“Are you sitting in front of the door?” Logan asked. “Please, Roman, I just—” another panicked gasp as Roman tried to dampen his crying and get control of his breathing. Silence on the other side of the door.

“Roman, can you breath for me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. You can do it.” Logan coached through the door. Roman tried to follow the instructions, he really did, but all he could manage was a garbled sob that caught in his throat and made him spiral farther.

“Roman, its ok, try again.” Logan encouraged. This time he counted out the breathes, knocking on the door for each beat. After a few minutes of the breathing exercise, Roman had calmed down enough to move out from the front of the door. Logan rushed in, carefully kneeling in front of the Prince.

“Roman, may I hug you?” he asked softly. Gulping, Roman looked into Logan’s eyes before nodding hesitantly. The gentleness with which Logan held him was something Roman never knew the “cold” logical side was capable of, and Roman found himself burying himself in the hug, inhaling Logan’s scent.

“I’m sorry. I—I overacted.” Roman whispered after a couple of seconds.

“You don’t have to apologize, Roman. While you didn’t give me adequate chance to respond and jumped to a conclusion rather quickly, it can be scary to reveal your feelings, especially on accident.” Logan soothed. “I’m not very well-versed in the area of feelings myself, but I do know that if I were the one to accidentally let that slip to you, I would be in very much the same state of mind.”

Roman felt his bottom lip tremble again at the words.

“But you—you don’t have feelings for me.” He laughed mournfully, face still buried in Logan’s chest.

“Who said that? I missed the part where I said that.” Logan replied softly, making Roman’s head whip up. Logan’s heart clenched in an unfamiliar way when he saw Roman’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-soaked cheeks. Just as bad were the bags under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep over the past few days. “Roman, I—I may not be good with feelings, but despite my words I do have them. And I have them for you. Romantic feelings, that is. I, um, I have romantic feelings for you. I mean.”

Roman let out a tear-filled laugh at Logan’s ramblings. He—Logan really…

“You mean that?” he asked, barely daring to hope.

“Of course, I do, my prince.”

Roman could have burst out crying again, this time from happiness. Instead, He leaned up, hesitating right before reaching Logan’s lips, unsure and unsteady. Luckily, Logan closed the distance and he leaned into the warmth. He tasted like coffee and crofters. Bitter and sweet, the perfect combination.

“I should have breakdowns more often if it leads to this.” Roman tried to joke once they pulled away.

“Please don’t, my star. I hate seeing you sad.”

Roman couldn’t help the soft blush that settled itself onto his face at Logan’s nickname and the softness in his voice. Gosh, he loved him.

“I’m sorry about—y’know, everything. A-And about the script. I don’t think I can finish it today like you wanted.” Roman apologized, looking away in shame.

“Roman, please tell me that the script is not why you haven’t been sleeping decently or coming out of your room for the past few days.”

“I—Well, it needed to get done, and I was just…in a bit of a creative slump. It’s fine, though. I mean, I haven’t gone to bed that late the past few nights. I just really wanted to get it done. I—I guess I failed.” Roman stammered, not realizing his absence had been noticed by anyone other than Patton.

“The past few nights, I have awoken as I always do precisely at six AM and you’re lamp has still been on every morning. I know for a fact that you don’t get up until nine most days. I am presuming that you didn’t go to bed at all these past nights judging from the dark circles under your eyes. Please, Roman, just tell me next time you’re having issues with the script. I’m happy to give you more time or help you come up with ideas.”

“I—I just…I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m sorry.”

“You could never disappoint me.” Logan assured softly.

“Yeah right.” Roman muttered under his breath. Logan tilted Roman’s head up, cupping his face gingerly.

“I promise Roman. You could never disappoint me.” He repeated, a firmness in his voice and fire in his eyes that Roman had never seen before. Even with Logan’s reassurance, Roman found he still couldn’t quite let himself believe his words, but when Logan pressed another soft kiss to his lips, he let a smile slowly spread across his face anyway. With a quiet sigh, he slumped against Logan in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you change into something more comfortable. I’ll grab some extra blankets, and we could take a nap? You need to replenish your sleep, and I’d be more than happy to cuddle. I-If you’d like to, um, cuddle, that is.” Logan suggested, blushing slightly.

“Hm, I never thought you’d be the one to suggest cuddles.” Roman hummed, gazing up at his love.

“I don’t mind cuddling. In fact, most studies show that cuddling can relieve stress and anxiety and sometimes can even boost your immune system by boosting your serotonin levels which have been linked to immune system improvement before. It’s also a very good way to get closer to the ones you love.”

Roman giggled slightly as Logan ranted. He loved the way Logan knew a little about almost everything. He loved the way he would rant about the tiniest things. He loved the way he would light up when nobody told him to stop or interrupted his rants. He loved him.

“Is there, um, something on my face, Roman? You—You’ve been staring for quite a while.” Logan’s asked, breaking the creative side’s trance.

“Oh, um, no—You’re just…amazing, Lo.” Roman stammered, trying to recover as a blush lit his face on fire. At least he had managed to reduce Logan to a blushing mess as well.

“I’ll go get the blankets then.” Logan finally said, standing and clearing his throat. Roman just grinned as he left. Logan really, actually liked him. They had really, actually just kissed. They were—they were really together now. And to think that it was all because his tired brain had slipped up and let him say two little words he shouldn’t have. Soon enough, Logan came back, blankets in hand and the two were cuddled underneath the warmth. Roman couldn’t help but admire the way they seemed to fit perfectly together, their legs intertwined, their arms wrapped around each other. Already, he could feel sleep begin to pull at his eyes, making him yawn and snuggle closer to Logan.

“I love you, starlight.” Roman whispered, smiling against Logan’s chest.

“I love you too, Roman. Rest well, my love.”

The words echoed in Roman’s head, Logan’s presence clouding his brain until he finally, finally let himself close his eyes and drifted into the comfort of sleep.

Taglist: @catolicabuena

#tw crying #tw panic attack #tw self deprecation #logince #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #my fics #hurt/comfort #logince hurt/comfort #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts creativity #ts logic #writing

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

He Gives You Everything You Need

Characters: Sam Winchester x Skinwalker!Reader, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1,436

Warnings: being sick as a wolf, just so much fluff

Request by @gabrielslittleangel: Reader is a werewolf (she can shift into a wolfie) and she gets sick, and she’s stuck in her wolf form, so they have to take care of her as a wolf.

Summary: Shifting between your human form and your wolf form is painful enough as it is. Add an illness, and it’s unbearable.

Squares Filled: sat on his lap instead of the chair for @spnfluffbingo // shapeshifter in @spngenrebingo // common cold in @badthingshappenbingo // “She... I mean- she’s... she’s sweet and she’s beautiful and she’s just kinda sorta perfect.” for @spnquotebingo // food for @goodthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Supernatural

Beta: she wants to remain anonymous

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in!

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

It’s that time of the season where the common cold makes it way back into civilization. Some people get it, and some don’t, and it’s usually the people who don’t think they’re going to get it. You’re one of those people. You haven’t done anything to warrant otherwise, but the cold found you through the sea of people. What’s worse is that you’re a shapeshifter and have been stuck in your wolf form for a while now. Sam and Dean think you’re stuck, but you like this version of yourself a lot better than the human version.

There’s just something so satisfying about being a dog. You have no responsibilities, you can run around in mud all day, you get to eat whatever you can fit into your mouth, and no one questions you when you do anything. You like being human when Sam and Dean are on a case because you get to help them out a lot better than if you were a wolf. There are certain things you can do as a human, and certain things you can do as a wolf.

You can’t have both.

When you turned back into your wolf form, you didn't know you had already contracted the common cold. You could go to the veterinarian, but you’d much rather go to a human doctor. They know what they’re doing more than veterinarians. If you’re in pain, then you might switch from a wolf to a human in front of the doctor. As a human, you know you can take the pain. If you’d known you’d be sick, then you might have stayed in your human form just a little while longer. After years of going through this, you know it’s better to be sick as a human than as an animal. You can’t communicate properly about what you need and how you’re feeling if you’re a dog.

You’d switch back, but it’s a very painful process.

Most people think shapeshifting is an easy thing to do when really, it’s full of pain and agony. Your bones shift to fit the animal or human you’re trying to imitate. Your nervous system has to be rewired in order to accommodate the thing you’re turning into. It’s why you like to stay in your wolf form whenever you’re at home. You’ve been shifting since you could walk, so the pain isn’t that bad, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park either.

Sam and Dean are home right now since there is no case to handle. You’re very sick, but you know you’d feel a little bit better if you’re in the arms of one of the brothers. Dean is working on his car since you can smell the oil. Even with your congested nose, you can still smell the potent oil. Sam is reading in the library while sitting on the chair you got at a swap meet for only 20 bucks. It’s big and comfy, but it’s also full of dust. You tried getting as much dust out of it as possible, but there is still a lingering smell.

You walk into the library with your ears bent and your tail between your legs. You’re a small dog for a wolf but bigger than the average pet. Sam looks up from his book when he hears your nails tapping against the wood floors.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks when you get to his feet.

You look up and whimper at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you know you can do. You howl softly and sneeze, looking down once more.

“Are you sick?” he asks, and you nod your head.

You’ve learned to understand human language whenever you’re taking on the form of an animal. It was hard to get used to, but you’re a pro at it now.

“Why don’t you shift back into a human and take some medicine?”

You tip your head back and howl as if you’re telling him, “fuck you, no, I’m not going to do that”. He knows how much it hurts you to shift, so he can only imagine what the pain would be like if you’re not feeling well.

“Are you hungry? I can get you something light to eat. How does chicken sound? I know we still have some.”

All you can do is nod, and he gets up to cook you the meat. Humans wouldn’t eat chicken if they aren’t feeling well, but since you’re a dog, the meat is good for your stomach. Dogs and humans have different digestive systems when it comes to being sick and what they can and can’t eat. It doesn’t take Sam long to cook the chicken, and soon he’s sitting back in his chair. He’s about to lay the plate on the floor when you hop onto his lap. He chuckles and makes enough room so that it’s comfortable for both of you.

“Want me to feed you?” he asks.

He does so without your response since he knows how much you like it. Even as a human, you like it when people feed you (especially Sam). He takes a big piece of chicken and holds it out for you, and you snatch it up. The chicken is at the right temperature, so it doesn’t burn your mouth, and you quickly swallow it. You eat everything on the plate in less than five minutes. It would have taken you one or two, but you wanted to take your time with this.

As soon as Sam moves the plate out of the way, you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes. You’re very tired and worn out, and he allows you to use him as a pillow. He smells so good and feels so comfy that you don’t want to move. He reaches up and pets your head while reading his book with one hand. He scratches your head lightly with his fingernails, and it’s enough o put you into a light sleep.

Dean comes in while wiping the oil that’s on his hands off on a towel and sees you and Sam together. He knows his brother has had a crush on you for the past few years, and he’s never done anything about it. He knows about your crush on his brother too, and he’s going to do something about it soon if you two don’t.

“What’s going on?” he asks and nods to you.

“She’s sick, and so I made her some chicken to eat.”

“You tell her how you feel yet?”

“No, Dean, and I don’t think I’m going to.”

“Why not? She’s the perfect woman for you. Why are you so afraid?”

“Can we not talk about this right now? She’s right here.”

“She’s asleep. I can hear her snores even from where I’m standing. What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not,” Sam mumbles.

“Bullshit.”

“Would you just drop it?”

“How can I when I always see you two eye-fucking each other whenever either of you looks away. You know she won’t turn you down.”

“I know. I guess that’s what I’m afraid of. She deserves someone better than me.”

“You are the only one who is good for her. We’ve known her for, what, ten years? I’ve never seen two people get along so well like the two of you.”

“How can I be sure I’d give her what she needs? What she wants? She... I mean--she’s... she’s sweet, and she’s beautiful, and she’s just kinda sorta perfect. What can I offer her?”

“That’s a question you have to answer. Ask her out before someone else does. She won’t wait for you forever,” Dean says and leaves the room.

Sam knows you’ll eventually give up waiting for him and look for someone else. He knows he should have asked you out years ago, but he’s too afraid that you won’t ever be satisfied with him. He can’t give you everything you deserve, and he doesn’t know how you feel about that. If you happened to reject him, he won’t ever come back from that. It’ll ruin what you two have now. But, then again, if you accept him for who he is, then he could have years filled with love and happiness with the woman he loves.

The reason you went to Sam is that he makes you feel safe. There is no one in the entire world you’d rather spend your life with than the man whose arms you’re in. He may not be able to give you everything you want, but he definitely gives you everything you need.

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hallospaceboyy · 4 years

Text

My Soul Belongs to You

Lilith x female reader

For @galaxy-nerd

Mortal reader summons Lilith, and offers her their soul

Warnings - Smut, mentions of blood used for the summoning

You had been obsessing over Lilith for quite some time, been reading any materials you could find, fascinated. You can’t help but feel devotion and admiration toward the mother of demons, this legendary seductress. You yearned for the sexual gnosis that Lilith is so well known for, need to her to make you feel liberated, free. It’s strange, as you sit there, in your darkened bedroom, surrounded by black candles, the musk of incense surrounding you, about to attempt invocation of the mother of succubi herself, you know that in giving yourself to her you will feel liberated, emancipated in a way you had never felt before.

“I invoke thee, Lilith, Mother of Demons, Queen of Darkness. I offer myself to you entirely, my heart and my soul, Lilith, Mother of Demons, Black Goddess, I invoke thee,” You hold up the small dagger you’ve been clutching in your palm, and prick your finger, letting out a soft hiss. With your blood you smear Lilith's sigil on your chest, the swirling lines perfectly etched in your memory. The room remains still, and silent, and you feel tears welling in your eyes, tears of desperation.

“Please, Lilith... I need you...” You whimpered, tears tracking down your cheeks now. A sudden rush of wind blew through your hair, and your eyes widened when a woman, a beautiful woman, materialised before your eyes, perching on the edge of your bed. Long brunette hair cascaded down her shoulders, perfectly curled, and her cheekbones looked almost dangerously sharp. Her bright blue eyes watched you coolly, her painted red lips curling into a smirk. She wore a long, emerald green silk robe, the neckline devilishly low, the buttons starting way below the swell of her breasts. The robe didn’t button all the way down either, so as she crosses her legs, taking in the sight of you, her slender legs are on full display.

“Well, that was quite the amateur attempt at summoning me, but I couldn’t help the curiosity at your... very generous offers,” Her voice was sultry, and you felt a strong pull in your lower abdomen. She was more bewitching than you could ever have imagined. You’re sure that if you weren’t already seated, her voice alone could make you weak at the knees.

“I-I...” Your eyes remained wide, your cheeks wet, and your breathing was heavy, your chest heaving and the bloody sigil there had begun to dry, forming a crust on your skin. Lilith's eyes roamed there, taking in the sight of her mark tainting your bare chest, revealed by your loose fitting, low cut black silk chemise.

“You’re quite the delicious thing, aren’t you sweetling?” Her slender fingers grazed down her own chest, teasingly low and your eyes followed, as she knew they would. “Come. Approach,” Lilith commands, and you obey immediately, rising from your ring of candles, and standing before her.

“Giving yourself to me isn’t something to be taken lightly, precious. What is your name?”

“Y/N, Your Unholiness,” Lilith chuckled at the formality, and you blush.

“Lilith is fine,” She reaches forward and strokes your cheek, wiping away the now drying tears there, her touch was tender, and your lids felt heavy, closing of their own volition.

“I know that this is no game, Lilith. I-I need to find purpose in life, and I know I can find purpose with you. Belonging to you,” You took a deep shuddering breath, as Lilith's fingers traced lower, grazing the mark on your flushed chest. “I will give my soul to you, if you will take me. Please,”

Lilith pulls you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her, and she kisses you hungrily, all teeth and tongue, and passion. The kiss is fiery, and possessive, and you keen into her, fingers tangling into her soft hair. She smells of smoke and brimstone, and its intoxicating. You broke away, panting. “Maybe you will even learn to love me,”

Lilith smiled then. “I’ll agree to this pact, Y/N, but you must first give your body to me, and then your soul,” Her sylphlike hands come down to cup your ass, digging her nails into the flesh there through the silk, and you buck against her, biting your lip.

“Then take me, I am yours,” You murmur, and Lilith lets loose a low growl, lust igniting her, and she lunges forward, lips attaching to your neck, sucking and biting, sure to leave deep purple bruises. Her hands reach the front of your chemise, and she tugs, ripping the material clean down the middle with a strength you could not have expected such a slender woman to possess. You gasp, arching your back as she slides the straps off of your shoulders, letting the ruined garment fall to the floor. You’re straddling her completely bare now, and Lilith hums, hands roaming your body, stopping at your breasts and kneading them.

“Only naughty girls forego underwear. You planned to seduce me all along, didn’t you? Little minx,” She breathes, voice thick with want, and she pinches your nipples, grinning at the hiss that earns. Her hand snakes down between your legs, eyes alight as she finds you dripping, coated with need for her, and her other hand suddenly grips your hair hard, bringing your face inches from hers. The force with which she used should have hurt, maybe would, later, but right now the rough handling only sent sparks of electricity to the apex of your thighs, even more so as her fingers parted your folds. Her hot breath fans your face, and you gaze into ice blue eyes with hooded lids, whimpering when her fingertips graze your clit, then move to press at your entrance.

“P-Please... Lilith...” You beg, wriggling your hips, the ache between your legs almost painful now, with the need to be satiated. Lilith obliges with a smirk, forcefully thrusting two fingers into you, and you cry out. She feels so good, and you’re sure you’re going to combust, burst into a cloud of ash right in her lap, your skin radiates heat, and Lilith is hotter still. The demoness thrusts hard, but slow at first, fingers finding a depth in you that you didn’t think possible, curling slightly, and you squirm above her, dripping onto her bare leg. Your eyes screw shut as she begins to move faster. “F-fuck!”

“Open your eyes, Y/N. Now,” You do as commanded, whining as you stare into Lilith's eyes. Her pupils are so dilated they look almost black. “I want you to look at me when you come. And keep looking at me,”

Nodding, you try with all your might to keep your eyes glued to hers. She's fucking you hard and fast now, and your hips are matching her movements, riding her fingers with reckless abandon, and the pressure is building in you. As you tip over the edge, Lilith's hand moves from the clutched fist in your hair to cup your cheek, and you rest your damp forehead against hers, eyes trained on hers as your orgasm rips through you, and Lilith doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until your loud moans and desperate motions subside. She removes herself from you, and sucks her fingers clean, winking as you watch her, and then she kisses you, with a softness you would never have expected from a demon.

“Beautiful, and delicious,” She murmurs, stroking your cheek. Then, she bestows a single kiss to your forehead, closing her eyes, followed by a soft mumbling in Latin, and you feel a sudden lightness in your chest, and the same sigil you had etched onto yourself burns into the skin of your wrist, can see the lines in your flesh flash red hot, but you feel only a light tingling, and a bearable warmth.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I hope you meant it when you proclaimed complete devotion to me,” Her voice came out a whisper, and you smile.

“I meant it, Lilith, my heart and soul are yours willingly,”

“As are mine, my dear,”

Your heart skips a beat then, never expected Lilith to declare the same commitment to you. Couldn't know just yet that this was all Lilith craved, an unabashed love and devotion, that sometimes all Lilith wanted was softness and affection, after millennia of suffering and pain, and she knew you would give her that, was willing to give you that herself. But you weren’t about to ask, or argue, just gratefully accept. She would share all of these things with you one day, and you would feel only a surge of adoration for her, a happiness that you had brought her some solace, and the gentleness she deserved.

#lilith x reader #madam satan x reader #michelle gomez #lilith #mother of demons #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina #madam satan #caos fanfiction

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inforapound · 5 years

Text

Emboîté Part 3

A/N - Part 3 of @youbloodymadgenius writing celebration fic. Than you so much for your likes and comments. The saucy Part 4 will be up tonight.

Pairing – Ivar and Sarah (Aethelswith)

Words – 3,500 approx

Series Warning – explicit smut, dance industry inaccuracies, fluffy Ivar, possessive Ivar, semi-slow burn, ‘baby’ used as a term of endearment.

Having lived my life in leotards, leggings, and costumes with little to them, I rarely thought twice about how much of my body was on display. Walking toward me, Ivar looked everywhere but at the short, soft pink dress and sheer leggings, I had chosen for the occasion. Without arrogance or his usual stiff expression, he looked almost shy. It was so adorable it hurt and in that moment, I wished I knew him well enough to tease.

Arriving precisely one hour after my distress call, he came through the doors dressed ‘down’ in a grey button-up shirt and expensive-looking jeans carrying not one but two camera bags, strapped across his chest. It was clear, Ivar Lothbrok did not mess around.

“Hi,” I smiled pleased to be on my own turf.

“Hi, you look,” his bright eyes and neutral face did a quick sweep of my front, “…. ready.”

Not uncomfortable, more focussed, he listened while unpacking his gear, placing it onto a long wooden table pushed against the wall.

“We were all asked to contribute something for the silent auction on the 23rd and Derek, my friend, he’s professional photographer,” Ivar’s eyes narrowed, listening to me rattle on, “was set to take two photos of me. One dancing and one wearing a gown provided by Caffrey’s, our sponsor, who provide all our evening wear. Anyway... the photos will be blown up and framed and put out for the auction.”

“You want mid-motion shots or still poses?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

“I was going to leave that to…”

“Derek?” he asked, glancing up from the canon in his hand, his eyes skipping between each of mine.

“Yeah.”

“Got it.” Dropping his eyes back down to his camera, he flicked various buttons, a digital screen lighting up on the back.

“What do you think I should do?”

Looking up, he said nothing, his mind obviously working it through.

“Let's get some test shots for light and then just do your thing. Forget, I’m here.” With a quick jerk of his head, he indicated he was set.

Moving to my invisible mark on the floor, he took what felt like eight or ten shots of me standing in the center of the room in first position. Adjusting dials and playing with his zoom, he looked through the lens, his other eye squeezing closed, the shutter firing in a rush of clicks. Using a different black cane than the night of the auction, he hooked it on the inside of his elbow anytime he stood in one place. It seemed like an extension of his body, moving it with ease and I knew then his dramatic limp was not an injury but a condition.

It was time. Walking back to the table, I pressed the player, returning to my spot at the center of the wooden floor. The music sounded and I began. Swiveling, I rose up onto pointe, lifting and swinging my right leg in a broad sweep, shoulder height, before dropping and dramatically walking forward with rushed steps. I chose to dance my favourite part of the ballet Coppelia. Leaping high, my extended legs and pointed toes cut and curved through the air. For my size, I had always excelled at grand jetés and knew they often made for an impressive photograph.

My muscles and tendons, calloused feet and bones, blood and soul knew these steps so automatically, so ingrained that my mind could suspend and almost observe. There were few times in life, one could be wholly present, and dancing provided those moments for me. No concerns or past, no fear or questions, no right or wrong, good or bad, just movement. My body simply called forward into this graceful fluidity that felt as natural as taking a breath. So, this piece seemed fitting for such a sensation as the story was about a man who created a dancing doll, void of a mind, who moved so remarkably she floated like some beautiful celestial being. He became obsessed and controlling with her the more people fell in love with her dancing. I felt like a doll twirling and leaping, prancing with delicate steps, void of thoughts, responding only to the pull of the enchanting music.

The last steps were upon me and I rose onto point, extending my other leg vertical to my body, my toes reaching up toward the ceiling. Dropping forward, into a grand révérence, I held allowing the music to come to its end.

Silence.

Pulling myself up from a deep bow, I turned to look at Ivar. Lowering his camera, our eyes met. He had this confronted look and I could only assume he wasn’t sure what to say. The force of his stare and then a quick flutter of his eyelashes betrayed him though. He was impressed.

Exhaling, I relaxed my shoulders, resting my hands on my hips as I caught my breath.

Strange moments had been happening since I first saw him in that ballroom, and this was no exception. Neither of us seemed to know what to say, and I felt this sense of impatience, wishing I knew him already. Wanting, somehow, to fast forward through this polite unfamiliarity to a place where we talk without feeling guarded.

“Okay?” I lifted my chin.

“Yeah,” he answered, lowering his cane to the floor, stepping back to his equipment on the table. Glancing back, “More than okay,” he said, turning again to his gear.

Moving toward him, I grabbed my water bottle off the table and took a long drink.

“Thanks...for this. I would have felt like a ninny with nothing to contribute.”

“Ninny?”

“Yeah,” I smiled looking down at the floor, running my hand, out of habit up the back of my hair to my tight bun.

“Pickle, ninny, do they teach these phrases in Canada?”

“I don’t know,” I laughed, subtly shaking my head, pleased to see his broad smile and shining eyes. “Are you okay waiting while I change and clean up for the dress shots? I might be half an hour or so.”

“You want to do those here?”

“I guess. They were going to be done in Derek’s studio but he’s home sick. I’d rather be lit on fire than have you see my place so, yeah, here.” Looking around the room, I could still feel his eyes, watching me. “I could stand by the window or by the grand piano. Whatever you want. You’re taking the photos.”

Turning from the waist, he inspected the large room with its high ceilings and antique crown moldings, white walls and patinaed oak floors. It was a bright beautiful space.

“So?” he squinted one eye and I could tell he had a plan, “Whatever I want?”

“You are the photographer,” I nodded.

“Mine then.”

The playfulness in his smile and straight white teeth were not helping me catch my breath.

“Your what?”

“My place. My apartment. It has large east-facing windows. The light will be perfect for the next couple of hours. Once the sun sets, the sky will be backlit over the city. You will look…” he nodded, raising his brows but quickly glanced down to the camera he held like a security blanket. “It will work.” Looking back up, his eyes searched mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

---

I failed horrendously at keeping causal when walking in behind him, carrying my old duffle and garment bags. My steps slowed to a stop as I entered the contemporary, open concept living room, dining room and kitchen, all with a backdrop of massive steel and glass windows.

“This is amazing,” I said looking up at the high ceilings that opened further to a large loft on a second level. Smooth cement pillars stood in the corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows and ran up through the high, soaring ceilings. Like a nerd, I bent down and ran the pads of my fingers across the glassy black floors. “What is this?”

“Polished concrete,” he answered as he flipped through letters that had been pushed through a mail slot in his door. His own mail slot.

My mother’s crudely lined lips and spiteful words came to mind, when you date a man with money, you bloody well earn every cent. I sighed, shaking off her poison knowing that she in some perverse way hoped I would end up on my back, in some director’s office, working to stay relevant. My poor, bitter mother.

Walking to the dining room, I knew immediately it was not a table to place my shitty old sac on. Draping my dress bag over the back of a tall dining room chair, I dropped the duffle bag to the floor.

Turning around, I found Ivar watching me, leaning against the eating bar that separated his dining room and kitchen. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and I wondered if he pretended not to know how good looking he was. Or, perhaps he was indifferent to the opinions of others. That seemed more likely.

“Come,” he walked over, grabbing my garment bag and led me back toward the entrance and into a large bathroom, in which every surface was the same type of white stone. Hooking the hanger on the glass shower door, he turned to me, glancing around the bathroom as if to check that everything was in its place.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, playing with his cane, picking it up and bouncing its rubber base on the tile floor.

Smiling, I shook my head, internally dying at the image of him standing behind me with a flat iron.

“Okay, I’ll be out there.”

---

Stepping out of the washroom, my hair, by some fluke was skillfully styled down and smoothed out with a gentle wave, and my smoky eyes and nude lipstick were masterfully applied, just as Derek and I had practiced. I even felt confident in my spectacular silver heals. Peering down my front, I ran my hands over my hips, smoothing the grey shimmering satin, loving how the draped silky material felt against the skin of my, shaved that morning, legs.

“That was fa..” Turning around, his words caught in his throat. Closing his mouth, his eyes blatantly scoured the length of my body, his expression not filtering a thing.

I had been a performer all my life but could not remember a single person ever looking at me with that kind of awe.

Glancing down again, I adjusted the seams on the inside of the long sleeves, realizing how much I had wanted him to react this way.

Clearing his throat, he didn’t smile but his body settled as if easing into the reason I was there.

“Okay,” he inhaled loud enough for me to hear and lifted his hand toward the living room. “Let’s start with you in front of the corner window. Maybe even have you lean against the column. God, it’s perfect.” His eyes skipped back down my body. “The silver of your dress with the sky behind.” Pausing, his face softened. “That dress.” His eyes flashed wide and he shook his head with a half-grin.

“Thank you.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t wear that on Saturday.” Taking the lead, he walked toward the living room, stopping behind a leather armchair. “I would have doubled my bid.”

“I’ll remember that,” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as I passed him, heading toward the window. A surge of excitement raced through me knowing that he was seconds away from seeing my exposed skin in the backless dress, cut down to just above my bottom.

“Derek and I picked it out together. So many at Caffrey’s looked like ice capade costumes. I am not a frilly person and he liked the clean lines of it.”

Moving past his low-slung furniture and glass coffee table, I walked toward the corner windows, passing a stunning black ornate fireplace, feeling his eyes burning up and down my spine. Biting my bottom lip to conceal my smile, I wished I could see his face.

“Stop!” he called and I froze, my hands shooting up in front of me, thinking I shouldn’t have walked across his fancy rug with heels on. Slowly looking over to him, he stood beside the armchair, camera lifted, staring at me over the viewfinder.

“Right there. Do not move. Keep looking at me like that.”

Taking his direction, I stayed in place. The clicking of the camera started with a flurry.

With a pleased grunt, he lowered the camera and pressed a button to flip through the images. “God, this is perfect. That is the shot! That is the mother-fucking shot! You look,” lifting his excited face, his bright eyes faltered seeing me again. “You look… perfect.”

“Wow, okay. Thank you.” Shifting my heals, I turned to face him. “That was… fast.”

His attention was already back to the photos on his screen.

Stepping carefully across the dark, likely hand made rug, I headed back, en route to the bathroom.

“Don’t go,” he blurted causing me to snap my head over at him. “Not yet,” his tone was gentle. His puppy eyes were staring right into mine and I had no doubt this man got anything and everything he wanted in life. “Let’s take more. Just for fun. Hmm?” Bobbing his head, his expression turned playful.

Jesus, yes.

Like the good girl that I am, I took a seat on the built-in concrete bench that ran the length of the wall of windows.

Coming out of the kitchen, Ivar’s limp was pronounced, in fact, it looked painful without his cane, as he moved toward me carrying a glass of wine in each hand. Stopping myself from jumping to help, I waited, accepting the glass with a smile when he handed it to me. It tasted lovely and cold and was in the most elegant wine glass...of course.

And did we play…. Ivar stepped into his role as photographer, directing me on position, placement, even how to rest my hands, gently tucking my hair behind my ear and tilting my chin just as he wanted. His fingers lingering longer and longer each time they touched my body or hair or the fabric of my dress. The air felt thick when he was close causing my skin to warm and I felt a wave of disappointment whenever he stepped back. I was his muse, his doll and it was incredibly arousing.

The more photos he took, the more I allowed my inhibitions to unravel and it only fueled Ivar to become more expressive, excited even.

“Okay. Now, I’ll have you come to the couch and just do what feels natural. The glass behind with the colours in the sky, ughh,” he grunted, “amazing.”

Turning his attention back to the eating bar, he took a sip of his wine, scrolling through the last handful of shots. With his back turned, I used it as an opportunity to situate myself. Rolling from my seated position on the black leather sofa, I lay down on my tummy, propping myself up on my elbows, letting my heels drop to the carpet.

Spinning to face me, his eyes widened with surprise but he quickly recovered, pressing his lips together and returning to his role. He could not lift his eyes from me though. Could barely blink. Peering up at him from over my shoulder, his gaze dragged down the length of my bare back, holding on the round swell of my behind, naturally arching toward him. The dim, early evening light, made his normally brilliant eyes appear a deep blue. His entire expression seemed darker somehow as if laying below him, taking his every direction drew him into some wicked part of his mind. I had never felt this sensual before and didn’t want the feeling to fade or for him to stop staring at me like I was the most remarkable thing he had ever seen.

Lowering to sit on the glass coffee table, he lifted his camera once again, his lens sweeping up my form, focussing straight in on my face. Looking directly into the lens, I wondered if my expression was as yearning and wonton as I felt. The air had definitely shifted, and perhaps the glimmer or suggestion in my heavy-lidded eyes gave away my desire. Either he knew the contents of my mind, and how my body was responding or he felt the same as the intensity in his gaze rapidly grew. Faint grunts of approval, running his tongue over his lips, even outright murmuring how incredible and beautiful I looked, swearing under his breath.

I had to consciously control my breathing. The force of his stare, peering over his camera, sped my heart. How could he be doing this to me? It felt crazy knowing that I had only just met him but would not have stopped him from crawling over me, sinking down against my back and grinding into ass. Just the thought made me nearly rock my pelvis against the leather couch, needy for pressure on the tingling between my legs.

“You are so perfect, Sarah,” he whispered, and it occurred to me how often he used my name. I had never liked my name but somehow, the way it slipped from his tongue always with an exhale, it sounded anything but plain.

Two more clicks, three, the camera felt like the only barrier between us now as he slid closer to me, up the table. The image of his smooth, plush lips pressed to mine flashed through my mind and I exhaled loud enough for him to hear.

“Sarah,” he whispered again, my eyes still fixed on the lens of his camera as if hypnotized.

Click. Beep, beep, beep.

“For fuck sakes,” he snarled loudly, lowering his camera. “Don’t move. Don’t move.” Pushing himself up, he rushed, teetering as he walked without his cane, leaning on the back of the furniture to the bar. “Let me just change the battery and we’ll keep going.” Glancing back quickly as if to make sure I was still there, “God, have I really taken over a hundred photos!” he laughed sharply, dropping his head back. He was giddy.

“Ivar?” I pushed up on the couch to sit, combing my fingers through my tousled hair, attempting to blink off the spell I felt under. I needed to move, get some air before… well, I wasn’t sure what, but something was going to happen if I stayed splayed out like a dog in heat. I barely knew him!

Turning back to me, frustration flashed through his features but he stopped and looked at me. No, scrutinized, me.

“Ivar, I think I need to...”

“Who is Derek?” he cut me off, the question catching me by surprise.

“The photographer I told you about.” Not reacting, he stood waiting for me to continue. “Actually, he was one of the first people I met when I moved here. He is the photographer for the theatre, or I should say the theatre is one of his clients. He took my headshots for the company and we became close. It was nice as I was new to the city. Didn’t know anyone. Still don’t really.”

“So, it is more than professional between you?” he narrowed his eyes as if confused by something I said.

My stomach fluttered and I suddenly felt odd sitting across the room from him. “Yes,” I replied realizing that clarified nothing.

His eyes flashed again and he glanced down at his camera. I could see the steeliness in his gaze when he looked back up. “So, he dates the new ballerinas?”

Ignoring the insinuation, I answered, “He is my close friend and one who is far more interested in… ballerinos.” My brows spiked high on my forehead emphasizing my meaning.

Tilting his head to one side, he squinted further, before, “Oh!”

Locking eyes again, we looked at each other longer than what felt appropriate and I wondered if we would have reconnected if Derek hadn’t serendipitously fallen ill. Sooner than later, my instincts told me.

“I am going to go and change,” I finally said, needing to say something.

Rising from the couch, I picked my heals up off the rug and headed toward the hall for the bathroom. The room had become shadowy and I stared at the floor as I walked, gasping when he grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him, my hair flying out of place.

“Sorry,” he spoke quietly, letting go of my arm. We were standing close. “Don’t change,” his voice was just above a whisper. “Let’s not waste that dress.” His eyes dropped, sweeping across my chest. “Can I take you back to Piccolo’s for supper?”

“Twice in one week?” I smiled softly, inwardly thrilled by how he was looking at me.

Shrugging, his eyes watched my mouth, waiting for me to answer.

Giggling, a little too loudly, two thoughts occurred, I really did need to eat after two glasses of wine on an empty stomach and I was no where near ready to say goodbye. Lifting my chin, my smile widened, “We are creatures of habit, are we not?”

@youbloodymadgenius @naaladareia @whenimaunicorn @lol-haha-joke @ceridwenofwales @jaydelesley4 @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @fangirl-nonsense @thiahilmarsdottir @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog @yourpurplequeen @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @readsalot73 @hexqueensupreme @silly-bullshit-collector @littlecarolina94 @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @blonddnamedhandz @waiting4inspiration @flowers-in-your-hayr @zuxiezendler @heavenly1927 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @jzr201 @hecohansen31

#ivar fic #ivar fanfiction #modern ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarson #ivar smut #ivar love story #ivar love #ivar slow burn #slow burn #ivar au #vikings fic

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Small Town Girl, Chapter Two (Crygi/Jankie) - Sweett-Hhappiness

Crystal stirs awake as the sun shines in through Gigi's bedroom window and into her eyes, looking around before noticing that everyone else was already awake, including Gigi Goode herself.

"Good morning sleeping beauty" Gigi whispers in her ear, the girls warm breath tickling Crystal's neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

"Good morning Miss Goode" Crystal says and attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She hears the other girls giggling from Gigi's kitchen and she blinks heavily before pushing herself up "Sorry for cuddling you while i slept, it happens sometimes" she adds and scratches the back of her neck nervously. However Gigi smiles brightly.

"Why are you apologizing hun, I slept like a log" Gigi giggles and stands up, pulling Crystal with her towards the kitchen. She couldn't help the small blush that creeped across her cheeks at Gigi's nickname, but is quickly pulled out of her thoughts as a steaming cup of coffee is pushed into her hands. Crystal silently thanks the god that blessed her with coffee this early in the morning.

"Crystal, you were knocked the fuck out when we all woke up" Jan states with a dorky laugh coming after. There's that blush again.

"Y-yeah, i was up late" The girl chuckles nervously and looks at her coffee. Her phone starts buzzing in her pocket and she whips it out.

Mom: Honey, please be home soon, your father is arriving around 6! xo

Ugh.

She decides to ignore it for now, she'll leave eventually.

"Do you girls want to do something before we all have to leave?" Crystal asks with a nervous twirl of her thumbs. To her delights, they all quickly agree.

"Let's play Truth or Dare to get to know each other better!" Jan is the first to suggest. All the girls quickly agreeing. Some more hesitant then others.

They all gather around in Gigi's living room and sit down in a circle. Crystal is in between Gigi and Jan. Next to Jan say Jackie, who looked more nervous then usual.

A few basic questions go by, causing all the girls to burst out in giggling. When Rock lands on Jan, she smirks knowingly.

"Janice, truth or dare?" Rock says sneakily. Jan hesitantly picks Truth.

"Is it true you are hard core crushing on Jackie?" Rock blurts out and Jan slaps her playfully.

"Rock! Shush!" Jan scolds with a deep blush on her cheeks. "yes." she whispers, yet everyone heard. "Next person! Crystal! Truth or dare!"

Crystal nervously smiles "hm, truth" she shrugs and hears a snicker from Jan

"Any crushes in LA yet?" she asks and tilts her head. Crystal freezes for a moment, feeling Gigi's gaze on her.

"Um, i-i mean no crushes. Yeah i think someone's cute but crushes come with time" Crystal laughs nervously and everyone seems to except it and move on.

After a few more rounds of truth or dare, Crystal checks the time and sighs, realizing she needs to leave.

"Hey, Geege, I gotta get going, my" she pauses and clears her throat "My father is coming home" It was clear by her voice that she had not one glint of excitement. Crystal and her dad had a less then good bond.

Gigi furrowed her brows at the shorter girls sudden change in mood, and gently leads her into another room, a slightly concerned look on her face.

"Are you okay? you went from seemingly very happy this morning to, i don't know, you just seem upset" Gigi says and places her hands on Crystals cheeks.

God, yet again that heat builds up in her cheeks, but she's sure Gigi will assume it's from the mention of her dad and the awkward conversation.

"Yeah, um, i'm okay. My dad and I aren't very close. Ever since i came out to him as a lesbian, he's been really judgmental, always wanting to change me" Crystal chuckles nervously. However that laugh was forced out, and it was obvious.

Gigi had a pitiful look on her face. Crystal hates it.

"Let me come for dinner" Gigi declares. It wasn't much of a request and Crystal knew this.

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine" She explained softly, but Gigi just shook her head and insisted. With a heavy sigh, Crystal agreed.

———

Knock Knock

Crystal knows exactly who's at the door. She sprints down the steps to beat her parents to the door, and smiles as she opens it.

On the other side, she sees Gigi. She looked like a nice little church girl, a huge change from the drunk messy teenager Crystal hung out with last night.

She was wearing a off-white dress that ended mid thigh and was loose, yet still hugged her perfect waist. Very different from Crystal, who wore her tight fitting ripped black jeans with an over sized green sweater. Her hair brushed out but still a curly mess.

"Hi" Crystal says breathlessly after a moment. She gives Gigi a once over before inviting her in.

"Hey" She greets happily and kisses Crystal on both cheeks. Walking in and saying hello to both of Crystal's parents, meeting the girls father for the first time. He was cold, yet still somehow managed to seem nice.

"Oh honey, thank you for joining us for dinner, i'm so glad my Cryssie is making friends in LA already." Crystals mom beams, making the teenager grimace. God her parents were embarrassing.

They all sit down at the dinner table, Crystal and Gigi across from her parents.

"So Gigi, Crystal says you're a senior as well. You don't plan on going to art school like my Cryssie, do you?" Her father asks Gigi with a cold laugh, making Crystal tense up.

A warm hand rests down on Crystal's leg, a silent but comforting reminder that she's here and that it's okay. Crystal really appreciates that.

Clearing her throat, Gigi replies "No sir, I want to go to school for Allied Health actually"

"Hear that Crys, maybe you're friend can talk some sense into you." Her father says coldly. "Back in Missouri, her friends had her down the wrong path of drugs, partying, and sapphic behavior, luckily we were able to get her out of those disgusting ways."

Gigi can feel the shaking of Crystal's whole body, and even though the girl is looking down at her food, Gigi can tell her eyes are swelling with tears.

"Mark." Crystal's mother says, noticing how visibly upset her daughter is.

"Excuse me" Crystal says and pushes herself back in her chair, quickly standing up and walking off towards the bathroom on the second floor. Gigi apologizes quietly before following after Crystal fast on her heels.

"Crystal!" Gigi calls out through the bathroom door, hearing quiet sobs from the other side. Gigi sighs softly and opens the door, walking in and closing it behind her, pulling Crystal into a tight hug.

Silent sobs escape Crystal's lips as she falls into Gigi's embrace. Her dads words hurt. No. Not hurt. They burned. Burned into her soul and heart. Her dad hates who she is.

"He'll never except me" Crystal cries out. Gigi's heart breaks at the vulnerability of the girl in front of her.

Crystal was an emotional person, always. However she didn't exactly plan on crying in her new friends arms on the third day they had met. Yet here she was.

"Crys.. it's going to be okay, i'm here, always, i promise" Gigi coos in her ear, rocking her back and forth slowly.

But it wouldn't. It wouldn't be okay. Her father won't love her. He won't come to her wedding if she marries a women. Nothing would ever be okay.

Crystal pulls back, stepping back and wiping her tear stained eyes. "You should go. Go home and sleep in your own bed. Without me there keeping you up." she says and walks pasted her. She was very obviously getting ready to completely push Gigi out.

Gigi shook her head, grabbing the girls wrist "Crystal Elizabeth you are not going to shut me out of your life." She scolds and pulls Crystal close to her. Their faces weren't even an inch apart at this point. Crystal could feel Gigi's breath on her own lips. They stayed there for awhile. Maybe for too long. Crystal blinks back into reality and looks down.

"I'm sorry Gi" She whispers quietly. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and never leave her room again, yet she knew Gigi wouldn't let that happen.

"I'm spending the night here" Gigi says with a confident nod. Crystal couldn't help the small smile from forming on her lips at the girl being so happy to stay there with her, even though she had just been sobbing in her arms not even five minutes ago.

Crystal sighs softly and agrees to the sleepover, yelling down to her mom that Gigi was staying the night and they both make their way into Crystal's room.

"So, who's your crush here?" Gigi asks and wiggles her eyebrows like a nerd.

'You' she thinks, but obviously doesn't say it.

"Ah no one, just a few cute girls here and there." Crystal plays off like it's nothing. Gigi's smile seems to falter for a moment, but Crystal convinces herself that she had imagined it. "You crushing on anyone?" she asks and tilts her head.

"Nope, guess not" Gigi shrugs and giggles, bumping her shoulder against Crystal's, making her smile softly and shake her head playfully.

Another sleepover with Gigi, Crystal can practically feel her crush on this girl growing inside of her.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #jan sport #small town girl #leda #s12 #lesbian au

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xroamywoamyx · 4 years

Text

Sleep My Sweet Prince (Spoilers)

Fandom: Sander Sides

Rating: K+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Fluff

Word Count:1785

Pairing: Creativisleep (Roman/Remy)

Roman Sat On The Floor Of His Bedroom Knees To His Chest Face Hidden As He Sobbed Quietly. He'd been there for hours. He knew that at this point he was just being dramatic, but dammit. It still hurt. If Jay had said literally anything else he would have been able to take it. Even if he had said Roman was foolish or unnecessary it would have been fine. He already knew these things, Logan made sure he knew it after all. Though with Logan it wasn't genuine and he knew that... and even if it was he couldn't say that he was wrong. He was stupid, he typically prided himself on it actually, most Prince's weren't known for their high intellect. Heroes use to be brave, heroic and charming without being overly bright. If they needed something done that required more then an average IQ then the lovable nerdy sidekick would do it. It wasn't until recently that his brand of heroics became out dated and... And Toxic... He'd only needed to be good looking and strong before, he stuck by a strong moral code...

A Moral Code He Doesn't Understand Anymore...

If Patton...

No.

If Thomas.... No longer Needed Him Or His Brand Of Heroics Anymore...

What Was The Point.

Thomas did have Remus after all and if Janus fit into Thomas' new found sense of morality.\

Who's to say his Brother wouldn't also...

After all Jay had said he couldn't tell them apart....well...those weren't his exact words but that's what he said.

If He and Remus were truly so similar then surely Remus could handle things on his own. He didn't really need to hang around, he contributed the least out of everyone else and he had a ready to go replacement. What was the point of him staying around?

He clearly wasn't wanted...

He continued to sob letting his thoughts run wild each one doing more damage to his fragile self worth. He continued to sob quietly for several more minutes feeling more and more alone as each minute passed.

After awhile there was a soft knock on his door "Go away'' Roman called out ''you're not wanted'' he said voice sounding muffled

The person behind the door scoffed in fake offense ''Well babe I know that can't be true because I'm always wanted'' The door creaked open slowly and as the light streamed in to reveal the hyper insomniac Remy Sanders. Roman glared at the caffeine fiend "I Am Not A Liar Remington!" he spat angrily still fuming in no mood for jokes ''Well someone's in a mood'' Remy said in a slightly softer tone taking a sip of his drink.

'' Rough day?'' Remy asked plopping down next Roman ''buzz off sleep demon'' Roman insulted weakly Remy lowered his sunglasses and quirked his eyebrow at Roman "oh really, you wanna do nicknames right now'' Roman hugged his knees a little closer ''sorry..''. Roman felt something heavy get placed on his shoulders ''Nah Princy you're fine'' Remy yawned wrapping his jacket around Roman before kicking back against Roman's bed '' just don't call me Remington again'' he picked up his drink and offered it to Roman ''want some''. Roma ignored him ''You know I'm not a coffee person Rem'' Remy cracks a smile "who said it was coffee" Roman looked at Remy with genuine surprise and curiosity. Remy laughed to him self smirking and taking another sip "Your loss, ma petite frère".

Roman loosened his grip on his knees continuing to sulk "What are you even doing here..." Remy signed " well it's not like I want to be here or anything" he twirls his cup sarcastically "and besides there's this prince who's keeping me up" he nudged Roman gently."I'm sorry..." Roman said quietly "don't" Remy looks at Roman '' don't do that Princy'' Roman laughs and lets his head fall back and rest against the bed ''I'm not much of a prince anymore" he smiled as silent tears fell down his face these not from anger or frustration at the days prior events but do to real pain and hurt. "Maybe..." Remy sighed ''or maybe, just maybe you're just tired'' Roman laughed ''you can't take credit for everything Rem'' Remy scoffed ''or maybe, I can'' he gently wraps his arm around Roman making him rest his head on his shoulder Roman yawns ''don't Remy...''.

He Took slight offense to that scoffing as he shoved Roman back off of him ''I wouldn't dare do such a thing Princy, not even in your dreams'' Roman readjust himself removing Remy's jacket from his shoulders. ''I'm sorry'' he says trying to give it back to Remy ''Uh-uh'' Remy holds his hands up setting his drink down properly. ''Remy..'' Roman whined ''no!'' Remy fussed ''Remy I'm burning up'' he looked at him with a pouty face. Remy cupped Roman's face and placed a hand on his forehead ''Yeah but you're cooling down fast and you'll start to shiver, so put on the damn jacket'' Roman wiped his face and crossed his arms shaking Remy off before shaking away "Roman..'' Remy softened his voice. ''It's okay, you're okay Roman'' Remy grips Roman's shoulder making the distraught prince look at him. ''Listen to me Princy'' he places his hand on his chest applying the slightest amount of pressure to calm him down '' you have one of the kindest and bravest hearts of any person I know, please for the love all the shirtless hot male strippers out there, let me passive aggressively take care of you". A chill ran down Roman's back, Remy was right, his body temperature was already beginning to drop and he was getting cold. He tried to stop himself from reacting to the chill and not shiver but unfortunately failed...

Remy smacked his shoulder "I told you bitch, now put on the fucking jacket and let me run my hands through your beautiful hair while you do that feelings thing and tell me your problems" Roman laughed giving in and putting on Remy's jacket. It was actually really comfortable and calming then he had thought it would be. "Feelings things?" he quirked an eyebrow at Remy "that was such a Logan thing to say" he mentions as he carefully slumps himself sideways and lays down in Remy's lap. Remy takes off his sunglasses and glares at Roman playfully '' How very rude of you to imply I am anything like that nerd'' Roman yawned ''I dunno you guys are kinda similar'' Remy tugs his hair a little harshly in response. ''What are you doing here Remy'' Roman asked sounding pitiful, Remy returned to soothingly stroking Roman's hair gently '' I came to check on you'' ''I came to check on you...'' he sighed ''I was worried'' . ''You shouldn't of been'' Roman continued to sulk, Remy rolled his eyes ''oh get over yourself Roman'' Remy chose his words poorly, Roman turned away from him and onto his side in Remy's lap ''sorry...''. Remy sighed in slight frustration at his Royal fuck up ''No Roman that's not what I meant, I mean'' he pauses for a moment thinking hard about his words. ''Don't think you're the only one who, don't think...Dammit'' he ran hand through his hair '' let people care about you Princy you're not Logan and he shouldn't stop people either'' he finally pushes out. ''And I, I care a lot, so I'm going to worry weather you want me to or not, I'm a stubborn sleep deprived coffee gay, you will not be able to out argue me on the ways you're amazing and worthy'' he let out a long breathe after spitting out his mismesh of words that he really wasn't proud of. Roman continued to sulk refusing to rollover and look at him '' Roman...'' he nudged him gently ''talk to me...please'' no response. Remy's heart sunk and he went to remove his hand from Roman's hair disappointingly feeling like he'd failed. ''Don't stop...'' Came a mumbled whisper ''what!?'' Remy asked surprised ''you can mess with my hair...I like it...'' Remy laughed at Roman's resistant response ''Okay'' he smiled returning his hand to Roman's hair. They sat like that for several minutes in silence Roman staying closed off and Remy just patiently waiting for if and when he'd be okay.

After awhile the quiet broke ''You think I'm amazing'' Roman sniffled ''hell yeah I do'' Remy smiled ''I think you're wonderful Princy'' Roman readjusted slightly still keeping his back to Remy. ''Why'' he asked needing validation, Remy was happy to oblige ''Well'' he began ''you're charming and kind, I really did mean what I said about you having a good heart. You're just filled with so much love and hope, It's really awe-inspiring and you come up with the most beautiful dreams for my nights with Thomas'' his voice was low and soft. ''Oh..'' Roman doesn't know how to respond "but honestly that's not enough, you try so hard to make everyone happy, even more then Patton does, a lot more actually. You care so much about other people and what they think, I've seen you literally hang the stars for people'' Remy went on ''Logan wanted them..'' Roman mumbled again slowly loosening up. '' And you spent many dreamless nights collecting them and then setting them up for him...'' he trailed off. Roman finally rolled over and looked up at Remy ''How do you know that?'' Remy's cheeks tinted pink ''well-I...You weren't there to help me with dreams...and Remus..did it...instead'' the coffee fanatic was having a hard time getting his words out, something that was Very unusual.

''Anyways..are you feeling better'' he tries to hides blush summoning his sleep mask and lazily flopping it on his face ''I'm tired and out of coffee'' . '' Hey Remy'' Roman readjusted so his weight was entirely on Remy's legs. ''Hmm?'' He responded taking off the sleep mask ''thank you'' he yawned snuggling up to Remy still wearing his jacket. Remy was silent for a moment heat rising in his face ''Yeah- anytime Roman..'' he stays rigid at attention coming from Roman not really sure how to process it.

''Rem'' Roman Whispers again into Remy's neck, ''Yeah Ro'' he responds. Roman lifts his head for a minute and kisses Remy's cheek before laying his head back down on again ''Can you stay and help me sleep tonight please''.

Like he'd even have to ask..

Remy smiled to quietly resting his head on Roman's head ''Of Course Princy, You Can Sleep Peacefully Tonight, I Got You'' Remy curled his fingers around Roman's hand and brings it up to his lips and kisses it peacefully putting the prince to sleep.

''Goodnight''

#roman sanders #ts roman #remy sanders #ts remy sanders #sleep sanders #creativisleep #roman/remy #sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sanders sides #sander sides fanfiction #fluff #svs redux #hurt/comfort

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