#once my house is clean I might start doing a dinner party with friends for shits and giggles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theitgirlnetwork · 22 days ago

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What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 1 : Self-Restraint (Rafe has none)

Milan's Party Outfit

Note: Okay this took forever to come out and I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think. Also something to note, I have an OC who is the main love interest in my JJ story. She is present in this story, but the two stories don't intertwine. Just something for those of you who will read both. I hope you enjoy and I love interacting. I will accept (constructive) criticism. And feedback. Another note, Milan is a little more of a bimbo character than my other ones, she won't be fully lost and I refuse to make her childlike. She just likes to be in the wind and chose a man who handles stuff for her. Also she doesn't have a permanent face claim yet, so if you have any ideas for that, please message them to me! :) Thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you're reading any of my other stories, I hope to be posting more to have some reprieve from the state of the world. Thanks so much!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual conduct, strong language, drug use

“Let’s go, I don’t know why I have to wait for you, we’ve got things to handle today, you’re makin’ me late-”

“Yeah, Dad-” Rafe huffs, jogging his way down the steps, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack in the foyer. “Well, Sara has been in my shit again so, maybe you could talk to her about that-”

“I don’t touch your shit, no one wants your shit, Rafe.”

“I can tell, you probably brought your bum ass pogue boyfriend in here too, he shouldn’t be in the damn house-”

“Rafe!” Ward’s voice booms, making Rafe’s eyes snap to his father’s obediently, mouth snapping shut. “Do you really think that it's productive for you to waste time arguing with your little sister when I just told you we need to get a move on?”

“Uh,” the younger man breathes heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he glares at his sister over his father’s shoulder. “No, sir.”

“Alright then.” Ward rolls his eyes, nodding his head for his son to grab the bag on the ground and grab the car keys before turning to address his eldest daughter. “Need you to be home for dinner tonight. There’s a new family moving in a couple blocks over and we wanna make a good impression. That means no fighting,” the older man raises his eyebrows at his children, placing his bluetooth in his ear, “no boyfriends, Sarah,” Ward finishes with a rough pat on his son’s back, “no drugs. Get it? This could be big, Gregory Cabot is big in the oil industry and they might want to…settle here. If they do, we should be their first friends, understand?”

Rafe nods quietly, attentively hanging onto his father’s every word. Taking them in with an intensity that would satisfy any other dad. But not Ward Cameron. “Sarah, they’ve got twins about your age. Make sure you and Wheezie are cleaned up nicely. Rafe,” the 21 year old is met with his father’s rough hand smacking his cheek once, twice, under the guise of an affectionate pat. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“It’s like he uh, doesn’t get it, right? Like I do fuckin’ everything he asks, and I’m uh…I’m the fuck up.” Rafe stammers irritably before sending a powerful swing into the golf ball in front of him, watching it sail off into the distance.

Topper and Kelce exchange looks as their friend grinds his teeth, grabbing a beer from their cart and taking a deep swig. He’d been ranting about this morning since they’d started on the course an hour ago. Apparently, his father’s comment had carried in Rafe’s mind all of the way through the brief errand down at the docks he’d accompanied him on, followed him to the country club and was going to last the entirety of their hang out.

“Yeah man, I mean,” Topper begins, “I get it right? My mom’s always on some shit too. Like I screw up everything I do.”

“You do, Top.” Kelce chuckles, lining up for his swing.

Rafe nods along, taking another swig. “For real, like realistically, I do everything I’m supposed to, like I really step up and it’s fuckin’ bullshit that I’m still supposed to act like I’m his little bitch boy. I’m fully a man. I’m focused and shit. Because for real, Top, I feel like if Sarah asked you to come over right now you’d go runnin’ right?”

“Fuck you man.”

“Motherfucker knows I’m right.”

“Kelce?”

“I mean, Top, let’s be real.”

Topper rolls his tongue in his cheek irritably, turning red at his friend’s taunting, “Well, y’all are the ones who lost a girl to Maybank. Angel is glued to his broke ass.”

Rafe scoffs, picking his club back up and practicing his swing. “Yeah, fuck that, that was Kelce’s thing. Angel’s bad, but she’s more like the sister I wish Sarah’s annoying ass was.”

“Sarah’s just like, young minded, she doesn’t know what she wants.”

Kelce laughs again as Rafe rolls his eyes, the two men switching spots as Rafe goes up for his turn again. “She knows, it’s just not you, man. Maybe that pogue just has better dick than you, Top…or did she ever let you fuck her?” Kelce laughs, turning his head to look up the hill at the juice bar at the edge of the course, squinting at something in the distance.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’.” Rafe huffs, swinging again, smirking as the ball goes directly into the hole, resting the club on his broad shoulder. “If you bitches weren’t so worried about chasing ass, maybe your game would be better.” The dirty blond brags, turning to see both of his friends now staring off into the distance. His jaw ticks in annoyance as he realizes that his friends had missed his impressive swing and ignored his bragging to stare at… “what the hell are you idiots looking at?”

When they don’t answer, Rafe decides to look for himself. The sight he sees is simultaneously exactly what he’s expecting and something he couldn’t have seen coming.

Standing at the juice bar was possibly the sexiest little thing he’s seen in his 21 years of living. Sure, he’d expected to see a pretty girl. That’s just about the only thing that can get both Topper and Kelce to shut the fuck up for more than two seconds. Their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, the two men didn’t hide their attraction at all.

But Rafe, he was experiencing something else entirely. He’d thought she was fucking hot like they did, obviously. But this was a different kind of fine. She had to be new. There was no way that she would have evaded him by now. His cheek dimples slightly as he absently bites his lip a bit, watching the girl lean over the counter, her feet lifting slightly off of the ground, her tiny white skirt giving him a shot of the smooth skin that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Rafe’s eyes follow her every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. Intense blue drinking in the dark, shiny, barely shoulder length hair falls out from her hat as she lifts it from her head, smoothing her hand over it before placing her hat back on.

Come on, baby, turn around for me. Lemme see the rest of that body. Lemme see that face.

It’s as if she could hear him. Like she decided to move, position herself, just for his enjoyment, because she turns. She turns and pulls herself up onto one of the barstools with a hop, pulling her shades from her face and tucking them onto the front of her shirt. She’s far, but even with the distance, Rafe finds himself puffing out a breath of disbelief, drinking in her gorgeous features. Full, glossy lips, tinged red, big eyes and a sweet, absent expression.

Next thing Rafe knows he’s making his way up the grassy hill, ignoring the calls of his friends for him to wait up.

“But, my parents are signing up for membership today.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but until you’re in the system you’ll have to pay with cash or card.”

Milan pouts and furrows her brows. She just wanted to have a quick refresher before she met up with her mother at the new house so she’d ridden over to the club with her father. She didn’t really think she’d need money. She never carries cash because she’s likely to lose it and she’d left her card in her red purse, but it didn’t match her outfit so she’d sent it ahead to the house. She could go ask her father for money, but he was in the club owner’s office talking shop and had instructed her to explore while he finished up. “But it’s hot out here.” she whines.

Milan turns to her right and starts scanning the outdoor bar area, looking for someone who looked friendly enough to spot her until her dad came down and paid them back. She drums her manicured nails on the wood of the countertop, ignorant to the bartender rolling her eyes at the girl.

Finally, her eye lands on a table with three guys that look fresh off of the golf course. They’re all dressed similarly and just like every other guy at the club. Polo shirt and khaki pants. Two of them wore hats. They looked like her friends from back home. But the third one, he’s the one who gives her pause. As soon as her eyes land on him his shoot over, locking on hers. She straightens her posture a bit under his gaze, offering a polite smile before doing what most normal people do when accidentally making eye contact with someone, looking away. Her bob length hair brushes her shoulder as she turns her head away, but she can’t help but feel someone was still watching her. She decides to turn her head back slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, only to find she’s right. The guy is still watching.

He wets his lip as he tilts his head. His eyes still trained on her as he uncrossed his muscular arms. A small, what seems to be a smile, rests on his lips as he drums his hands on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, pushing out of the seat and making his way over. One of his friends making a comment about something being ‘fuckin’ unfair’.

Milan fully straightens, tucking her hands under her butt and whirling around to face the bar again as if she hadn’t just been staring back at him. She kicks her feet until she feels a presence behind her? Beside her?

She turns her head and looks up to find the same guy, caging her in, standing slightly behind her with one hand resting on the bar at her side, the other grabbing the bottom of her stool and turning her to face him fully.

Seeing him up close she can see how cute he is. Pretty blue eyes, clear skin and pink lips. His jawline is sharp, his seemingly blond hair is buzzed short to his head, and a dimple is revealed in his cheek with his smug grin. He’s big too. Tall and muscular, his presence is all imposing, crowding her against the bar and giving her no choice but to accommodate him in her bubble. “Hey.” he says softly, his voice still a deep rumble.

Milan finds herself mimicking his position, tilting her head to match his, placing her elbows behind her to rest on the bar leaning the same way he was. Missing his eyes dropping briefly to wear the fabric of her shirt strained against her breasts. “Hi.”

“So, you uh, you want a drink or somethin’?” he asks lowly.

“Um..” she shrugs sheepishly, lifting her shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno.”

She does. That’s what she’s been trying to do for the last few minutes, but that was before the cute guy was towering over her, taking up her space. He furrows his brow for a second, a smile still on his face as he pushes up a little, whistling into the air, nodding his head for the bartender to come over.

The woman sees the man and immediately sweeps her hand over her hair, smoothing it out and prancing over. “Yeah, yes, hi Mr. Cameron.” She twirls the end of her ponytail, offering him a wide grin. “What can I get for you?”

“Yeah, Erica, get me and the boys some beers and, uh,” the man raises his eyebrows at Milan.

“Oh, Milan.” she smiles up at him prettily before looking back at a very annoyed Erica. “Can I have a peach refresher? Please?”

“She doesn’t have a membership account yet-” Erica starts only to pause when she realizes that the blond hadn’t glanced in her direction since calling her over.

“Then put her shit on mine. Want anything else, sweetheart?” he asks, a heavy hand resting on Milan’s lower back.

“No, I think I’m okay.” she hums, lifting her chin as the bartender rolls her eyes and strolls away. “Thank you, by the way, for covering me. My father will pay you back when he’s done with his meeting.”

The mention of her father has the man recoiling a little, retreating his hand from her with his smile dropping slightly. “Don’t uh, worry about it, aight? So, Milan, how, uh, how old are you anyway?”

Milan works an even wider eyed look on her face, perching herself on the edge of the stool and swinging her legs. “15, how old are you, Mr. Cameron?”

His eyes widen and he takes a large step back, smoothing his and over his jaw, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “No shit? I uh…I’m-”

“Cute.” Milan giggles, hitting his arm lightly, pulling back when she feels the muscles that are barely concealed by the stereotypical polo that he’s wearing. “‘M 20, Mr. Cameron.”

“Rafe.” he says firmly. Milan straightens again when she feels his imposing presence once again, the heavy hand back at her back, spreading warmth up her spine.

“Rafe.” she repeats.

“Good.” Rafe praises. Milan shifts in her seat at his approval, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at the feeling she gets from the praise. “You, uh, new around here, or…”

“Yeah, I’m new, just settling in.”

“Right, yeah, and uh…your family just left you all alone, that doesn’t seem fair.” He offers her a small pout that Milan fails to recognize as patronizing. “Wanna join me and the boys?”

“Sur-”

The sound of a glass slamming down on the bartop startles the girl, the splashing of her drink leading her to scoot back, bumping into Rafe’s hard chest. “Three beers and a refresher.” Erica sneers. Milan checks her outfit for juice stains while Rafe tosses a tip onto the bar, an unimpressed look on his face.

“That shit’s not cute.”

Both girls whip their heads to look up at him, a hard look of disapproval has Erica huffing and storming away after snatching the tip from the counter. As quickly as it appeared, the look is gone when Rafe refocuses his attention on the girl directly in front of him.

Milan finds herself smiling again as the man mumbles a short, ‘you’re good’ under his breath as he scans her clothes for any evidence of a spill. Just as she’s going to agree to join them she receives a text from her father. Time to go. “I’d love to, but my father is ready to leave, it’s been a long day for him, I don’t wanna keep him waiting.”

“Nah, we wouldn’t want that.” Rafe offers Milan a hand, helping her hop down from the stool and passing her the drink. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”

As Milan walks away perkily all she can think about is the cute guy she met at the country club. Turning back once to wave her fingers at him and being met with a crooked smile and a nod of the head she flounces off to find her dad.

And sharp blue eyes follow her skirt the whole way.

The muscle working in Rafe’s jaw is doing overtime as he cocks his head to the side, staring blankly at the wall trying to temper the rage boiling in his stomach as Ward carries on screaming in his face.

Apparently if he didn’t have anything better to be doing, he should have been shadowing his father today instead of golfing.

Apparently he was a dickhead for even thinking he’d be sitting at one of the seats at the end of the table because that’s where the head of the house sits and he doesn’t run shit but his mouth.

Apparently he was a poor excuse of a man for not knowing why Sarah was late and Wheezie’s dress wasn’t perfectly ironed, because how the women in the house look and act is a reflection of him and more importantly, Ward.

So Rafe stood there. And he ate that shit. Nodded quietly, eyes squinted, internalizing every slight, every insult, and making note.

He counted every book on the bookshelf in his father’s office until he felt his jaw being gripped and forced over to face Ward. Then, he started counting the wrinkles on his face.

The verbal lashing didn’t end until Sarah came barreling in, her straps to her dress barely on and her hair combed for fucking once since getting with that fuckin’ bum. But Ward softens. He redirects his attention to tell his daughter she’s beautiful and thank her for coming. And then he points a warning finger in Rafe’s face before storming out of the room.

“Where the hell were you?” he asks his sister through gritted teeth.

Sarah rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “Don’t have to answer to you, Rafe.”

It takes everything in him not to put his fist through a wall.

So, yeah, one could say he’s a little on edge. Sitting on his father’s right because the guest of honor, Mr. Cabot deserves the seat on the left, that’s where food gets served first. Rose sat on the opposite end, where the second host sits which will also place her closest to where Mrs. Cabot will likely be. Ward is at the head because where the fuck else would he be? And Rafe is in the seat on the right. The seat where the food will get served last. The seat where the youngest in the family is supposed to fuckin’ sit which anyone who has any kind of knowledge of etiquette would know. Which Rafe knows because he’s proactive and he fuckin’ learned it. Because he knows every aspect of running a household, not that Ward would acknowledge it.

He needs a fuckin’ bump.

Or a blunt.

What the fuck ever the wine ain’t cuttin’ it.

But Ward is watching him like a hawk and clearly won’t tolerate him disappearing to find some peace no matter how brief and slick he is about it.

So instead, Rafe’s leg jumps under the table. And his fingers drum on top of it. And he works his jaw irritably.

“You need a nicotine patch or something?” Wheezie asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“C-could you actually shut the fuck up for one second?”

“You’re such a jerk, Rafe, she’s a kid, Jesus.” Sarah huffs. “When’s this family supposed to be coming anyway?”

“Asking that repetitively is not going to make them get here faster.” Rose groans, rubbing her temples. “Honey-”

“They’re here,” Ward calls, retreating from the door, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the sitting room for Rafe to get four scotches ready, and sitting in the seat in the corner of the room. “Ladies?”

“We’re going.” Wheezie whines, following behind Rose into the kitchen and carrying in the dinner that they were pretending Rose and Sarah made as Sarah goes to the foyer to wait for the bell to ring. “But this little routine we have is really sexist.”

“Don’t screw this up.” Ward sneers under his breath, as he takes his glass from Rafe.

“Dad-”

The ring of the doorbell has everyone falling into their roles. It all starts without a hitch. Sarah pulls the door open with a bright smile and sickeningly sweet greeting. Rafe tries to tune in to the fake conversation his father started with him when they heard the footsteps in their home multiply.

“Oh! I’m a mess, nice to meet you, I’m Rose, please come in. Sweetheart, why don’t you go with Sarah and Louisa while I show your father to the sitting room. Then us girls can really get to know each other.” Rose plays her part easily, her heels clacking against the floor, the sound getting closer as she chatters away to what should only be the couple and their son now that she’s dumped the girl off with Sarah. “Your daughter is just beautiful, really, you’re going to have to watch her on this island.”

She says that to everyone. 9/10 it's a lie.

“Your daughters are gorgeous too. You must have your hands full.”

Sounds like Mrs. Cabot knows the game too, usually people don’t get a word in while Rose is running her lines.

“We keep our eyes peeled, but our girls just aren’t doing the dating scene yet.” No, Sarah’s too busy laying on her back for dirty pogues to date someone worth mentioning. A little money doesn’t change status. “Ward, darling, our guests are here.”

And that’s our cue.

Like they’ve done many times before the two men stand, Rafe watches his father’s movements carefully, making sure to always stand tall, and one step behind him. Ward takes 2 steps, Rafe takes 1.

The man entering the room behind Rose was tall. Only a little shorter than Rafe. Broad and appearing stern. He guides his wife in by her waist and Rafe quickly looks away from the older woman. She’s attractive, and if it was him, the last thing Rafe would want is his potential business partner’s son eyeing down his wife. The man holds out his large hand to Ward first, the two of them shaking firmly. “Gregory Cabot.”

“Ward Cameron, good to meet you.” Ward gestures behind him for Rafe to enter stage left. “And this is my son…”

“Rafe, uh Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” he says, shaking Gregory’s hand and squeezing the appropriate amount. A craft he’d perfected during the early days of doing these.

“Good shake son.”

The comment has Rafe standing at his full height, biting back an accomplished smirk as his dad glances back at him with a look of approval.

“Handsome young man, too.” the older woman hums.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Rafe offers her a polite smile to appease his father.

It’s all a part of the game. This little back and forth. It breaks the ice, and Rafe is the sacrificial lamb for it everytime. Gregory would say:

“Don’t be tryin’ to seal my wife there, boy.”

Pause for laughter.

Then Rafe would say something like, “if I was a couple years older I might give you some competition, sir.”

To which everyone would laugh and Ward would swat him with strength that varies depending on how the interaction goes.

Rafe has this little dance down to a science.

It was going well. Really, it was exactly how it should be, and going quickly too. Rafe was desperate to get this part over with so they could handle business, make some money, and he could celebrate by going to a party he’d heard about earlier.

But then she came in. And suddenly this was something entirely new.

“Dad, I’m gonna go to a party with Sarah after dinner. Can I have some money?”

There she is. Her shapely body draped in a silky green dress with pretty pink roses, her manicured fingers already outstretched toward her father. Glossed, rose petal lips pursed as she waits for the bills to be placed in her hand.

Milan. Rafe forces his eyes away from her, feeling two warring feelings flood his body as he wills himself to keep his eyes on her father instead.

“Without Milo?” Gregory asks.

Milan rolls her eyes to the ceiling, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upward and causing Rafe to work his jaw lightly. “‘M grown, Dad.”

Ward would never tolerate that tone…neither would I.

“We’re in a new place, your brother’s away on business-” Rafe can immediately feel his father’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head.

Milan’s eyes slide shut as she takes a deep breath, retracting fully and turning to leave the room. She was so caught up she didn’t even notice Rafe. It aggravated him. Spoiled. She’s spoiled.

I can fix that.

Eventually they get dinner started and it’s like the interaction hadn’t happened. Milan sat through the dinner and acted her role accordingly. She introduced herself to his father, which clearly had impressed Ward. She made her obligatory conversation points, but mostly chatted with the other women at the table. When Rafe pulled out her chair, she smiled at him prettily but aside from that, gave him no indication that she recognized him from earlier.

Rafe tries to focus on talking shop with his dad and Gregory, but his eyes keep wandering back to Milan’s mouth on her spoon and the little hums that leave her mouth.

The damn ice cream ain’t that fuckin’ good.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been trackin’ the macro model for crude oil and uh, I, I’d wanna know more.”

“That’s great son, yeah, it takes time, but it seems like you're on track, maybe I could put you in contact with one of my buddies that does the numbers for me, then you can run them with your dad and I.”

Rafe’s on fuckin’ fire. He’s killin’ this shit, and he’ll be deep in those Cabot pockets in no time. But all he could think about is the man’s pretty little princess perched on her chair a couple seats down, pouting as Sarah raves about how fun this party is going to be to Milan and Wheezie.

None of my fuckin’ business.

“Sounds really cool, Sarah.” the girl smiles behind the metal spoon, sighing wistfully.

Don’t do this shit man, Ward’s gonna kill you.

Her final sigh and last scoop of vanilla ice cream being spooned into her mouth through plump glossy lips is what does it.

Fuckin’ weak, Cameron. Over some pussy?

“Uh, Gregory, I’m goin’ to this party too. I’m takin’ Sarah, there’s no reason why I can’t keep an eye out for Milan too.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill.

Ward is staring Rafe down with a look that would have a weaker man retracting his offer immediately, but the bright smile that plastered across Milan’s face made Rafe stand his ground.

Gregory is simply pensive. His eyes flick between his daughter and the Cameron siblings. “How old did you say you were again?”

“21, sir.”

Gregory’s brows furrow as he looks Rafe over again, before turning to Ward. “Reminds me of my boy. Protective over his sister and her friends. Good stuff, Cameron.” He turns back to Rafe with a menacing look on his face. “Back like I sent her, Rafe.”

“Of course, Gregory.”

The older man couldn’t have known what he just allowed.

“Fuck, Sarah, how long does it take?”

“I didn’t even want to ride with you, Rafe, John B. could’ve picked up me and Milan-”

“Yeah, well, her dad put me in charge of her safety, Sarah, and actually, Dad put me in charge of yours, so-”

“Oh my God, don’t act like…like you’re doing some noble thing, okay? I know why you offered to take us, cause you leave me all the time-”

“You don’t know shit, alright, Sarah?” Rafe groans, backing out of his spot and turning out of their street.

“I know plenty, and I know you’re tryin’ to fuck Milan.”

“So what?”

“So what?” Sarah tosses her hair angrily, shifting in the passenger seat. “So, you’re fucking nuts, and she’s actually a nice girl. So, Dad’s doing business with her dad, that’s so what, Rafe.”

“I like, genuinely don’t need you telling me shit about shit Sarah, like for real.”

“I really hope her brother is fucking huge, so he can kick your ass.”

Rafe snorts, slowing the car down a little and turning down the music as he pulls into the Cabot’s neighborhood. “Yeah, maybe right? Cause God knows your little pogue bitches have tried and failed.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Rafe looks at the large house found at the address that Gregory had given him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Get in the back seat.”

“Are you serious-”

“Back seat, Sarah, Jesus!” He huffs, slamming the car door and making his way up the walkway, stopping on the freshly laid cobblestone when the heavy, double wooden doors swing open.

“Bye, Dad, I’ll see you later!”

If Rafe had thought the dress Milan had on earlier was something, this skimpy number she trots out in would test any man. The girl absently twirls in her outfit. It’s a white two piece set consisting of a long, see-through skirt, barely hiding her white bikini bottoms and matching cropped top. His eyes trail along the dips in her waist, catching on the dimples on her back before finding the matching ones on her cheeks. All he could think is how perfectly his thumbs would fit in both sets of dimples. “Hi, Rafe.”

He tilts his head back, openly staring down at her appreciatively. “Don’t you look cute.”

With the shy smile that overtakes her face he all but expects the girl to melt under his gaze. Rafe is pleasantly surprised when she lifts her shoulder before brushing past him to make her way toward the car. “Thank you, I know.”

He chuckles to himself as the heels of her sandals clack on the cobblestone and stop just before the passenger door. Milan purses her lips without even considering touching the handle, rocking on her feet and swinging her purse absently as she waits patiently for him to come open it, just smiling when Sarah calls from inside the vehicle, ‘it’s unlocked.’

Rafe doesn’t know what moves him. Normally, he left girls to hoist themselves into his car as he hopped in himself on the driver’s side. But he could tell, this girl didn’t even conceive that she should be the one to open the door. No, she expected him to help. To care of it. And used her pretty little grin as his payment once he gets the picture and pulls the door open and offers her his hand to settle her into the seat. “You uh, you comfortable?”

She’d already pulled down the mirror and was reapplying the lipgloss Rafe was determined to taste, humming absently to herself. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

Not a thought behind those pretty eyes, huh?

I like that.

Milan watches out of the window as they pass by trees and grassy nooks. String lights twinkling as they ride by, people selling produce on the side of the road. The salty smell of water in the air through the open window. She could see Sarah in the backseat, smiling to herself as she texted on her phone. Milan’s own phone lights up as she receives the girl’s message. The two of them had really gotten along when they met at dinner earlier. She wasn’t expecting the blonde girl to be so kind and welcoming. The entire family had been really kind. Wheezie was a cute kid and Rose seemed like every other tired housewife in their world. A little fake, but ultimately harmless. Ward seemed strict like her dad. He seemed to grit his teeth angrily at almost everything his family said, only to offer a wide smile when her own dad seemed pleased, or at the least unbothered.

And Rafe. Rafe was…cute. Hot, he’s hot. He’s handsome and tall, and can talk to her dad about all that business shit she didn’t give a shit to try and understand. And he’s attracted to her. Milan can tell. His eyes were shooting between their fathers and her the whole dinner. She felt the intensity of them even as she reapplied her lip gloss, as she chatted with his sister, when she’d taken a selfie as she leaned against the headrest, posing both for the camera and him.

But for some reason he’s wound so tight. As hot as it is, it can’t be healthy how frequently that muscle in his jaw jumps, keeping in rhythm with the bounce of his leg and the drumming on his fingers. Milan’s eyes flick across his movements and her lips part as she considers asking him if he was okay. Her voice catches in her throat when sharp, blue lands on deep brown and his brows raise as if he were asking a sarcastic ‘yes?’ When she shrugs lightly, smiling in return, he sends her a smirk before turning his gaze back to the road, peeling off at the light and turning up the music playing on the speaker to drown out his sister’s chatting.

Milan blinks at the heat she feels on her face and refocuses on her phone, opening her messages from Sarah.

Sorry about my brother. He’s a dick. When we get to the party you can hang with me. :)

The party was apparently at some house on the beach. Young adults were filling the walls of the building, spilling out onto the sand and grass. The music booms in the night air, and the smells of salt and weed fills their lungs.

Sarah pulls Milan along, their arms looped together as she guides her away from Rafe as quickly as possible. The man is clearly disinterested in following, offering Milan a brush on the shoulder before stalking off toward the back of the house, calls of his name in greeting following his arrival.

“Oh okay, yeah, my friends are in the kitchen, c’mon.” Sarah tugs her the rest of the way, leading Milan to the dark kitchen over to a crowd of people. She recognizes one of the guys as the guy on Sarah’s phone. John B. she said his name was. Apparently, normally, Sarah stays with him at his house but Ward had asked her to come around today to meet with Milan’s family, and she did it because they were trying to ‘rebuild their family’. “Hi.”

John B. turns to her immediately, a grin spreading on his face as he pulls Sarah to him, effectively separating her and Milan. “Hi, baby.”

His loud blond friend with his arms draped around a pretty girl with brown skin peaks his head out from behind them, pausing mid story, and drunkenly causing his girl to stumble with him. The girl follows his gaze and offers her a kind smile, pushing the blond by his face, laughing at whatever he’s mumbling in her ear. “Hi,” she calls over the music. “I’m Angel. This drunk dumbass is JJ.” She huffs, as he gives Milan a wide grin and nod before guiding Angel’s face back to his.

The tall guy next to him is flanked by a shorter light skinned girl and a girl pouring shots, laughing with Sarah, calling her a lightweight with a thick accent. “Cleo. You want one?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a shot.” Milan shrugs. Her eyes squeeze shut as the liquid slides down her throat, burning it and her mouth. She shakes her head, before letting the warm feeling spread in her belly. A hand on her elbow grabs her attention and has her looking over her shoulder.

“Come dance with me.”

It’s some random guy, already tugging her toward the crowd of moving bodies, not waiting for her reply. “Oh, no thanks.” Milan plants her feet, stumbling a little against his pulling.

“C’mon, you don’t like to dance?”

“No, I just don’t want to dance with you.” Milan chirps, glancing down at her nails to make sure he hadn’t made her accidentally knock a gem off. She watches as the guy’s face shifts from shock to a deep frown. He roughly releases her arm and storms off. She takes a couple steps back to where Sarah and her group are standing, seeing all of the couples wrapped into each other. The light skinned girl reaches her hand across the island counter to get her attention.

“You good? I was about to make my way over. The guys on this island are entitled assholes.”

“Yeah, that’s guys everywhere. It’s never the cute ones that come to you, huh?”

“Nah, it’s generally the creeps and losers who feel bold.” The girl laughs. “I’m Kie, Kiara.”

“Milan. Do you feel like dancing?”

Kiara shrugs, mumbling a ‘why not’ glancing back at her own friends before taking Milan’s hand and leading her toward the sea of people dancing. Milan twirls Kie as they step onto the makeshift dance floor smiling as they begin dancing together. The two girls take turns spinning each other, holding each other’s hips and guiding their dance. Milan can feel several pairs of eyes on them as they rock against each other, the base of the drum in her ears and chest. But her eyes only searched for one set in particular. She allows Kiara to turn her and flips her hair out of her face. And then they are. Steely blue.

Rafe blows smoke from his nose before licking his thumb, flicking through the stack of cash Kelce had just shoved into his hand. “Aight.” He nods, reaching his jacket pocket and producing a small bag of coke. He’d been giving Sarah and Milan space. For one, because he genuinely does not give a fuck what his hoe ass sister does. If she doesn’t give a fuck about the Cameron name then she could take that dirty pogue’s. On Milan’s end, Rafe was exercising self-restraint. He knows that now that they’re away from their families it wouldn’t take long for him to crack. She’d looked fucking gorgeous earlier that day, and even more so at dinner. Now that they were at a party, and he could take a fuckin’ second to breathe outside of Ward’s scrutiny…he’d break eventually. He was relying Sarah to keep her busy and away from him so he didn’t end up fucking her and fucking up the deal their fathers were trying to work out.

“What the fuck? That’s it?”

Rafe’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend. “Yeah, you fuckin’ druggy, told you I needed to go see my supplier. Your fiend ass didn’t wanna fuckin’ wait, so take it.”

“Shit.” Kelce scratches his head, scooping out some of the white powder and leaning forward on the couch to line it up on the coffee table. “Hey, that’s the girl from before right? At the club?”

Rafe looks up to find Milan across from him in the other room. He watches as she twirls and rolls her hips against Kiara’s. Her shiny dark hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder and her pretty lips mouth along to the song that’s blasting throughout the house. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he watches her movements, completely unaware of the group of girls trying to flirt with him and offer him a bump on the couch next to him.

When they lock eyes her smile grows even brighter and his own becomes wolfish. Her movements become even more daring, she dips low, arching her back before coming back up quickly, flipping her hair and rolling her full body. Her hands cover Kiara’s on her hips as she puts on a show for him.

Rafe chuckles darkly under his breath as he drinks her in, sitting back against the couch comfortably as if he’d paid for this little performance.

It all ends too quickly.

The song changes and Kiara leans into Milan’s ear, murmuring something and making a smoke motion before heading toward the sliding door in the kitchen. The girl is gone for like a few fucking seconds before the fuckin’ loser bastards that had been lurking around them pounce on Milan. Crowding her, trying to usher her into a dance.

She pushes up onto her tiptoes, looking over some guy’s shoulder to regain eye contact with Rafe, an offer in her eyes as she motions him over with her finger.

Shaking his head and smirking, Rafe pats his knee, challenging her. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she gently shakes her own head, and gestures for him to come to her with a single finger.

“Rafeeee, you got anymore?” A whiny voice calls to him.

Right. He was supposed to be moving weight. Damn girl is distracting him. “Uh, yeah, I’m low right now, so I’ve only got baggies, aight?”

“That’s fine,” the girl says flirtily. He rolls his eyes as he feels her hand on his knee. “You have discounts for pretty girls?”

His eyes drag back over to Milan and his jaw immediately clenches. She’s still facing him, but this time she had someone decidedly less acceptable in Rafe’s eyes clutching her. He watches as some prick who he used to play league basketball with when they were fuckhead teenagers basically nutting on Milan’s back. Rafe’s lip curls as he watches the girl dance for this guy. He couldn’t even think of his fucking name. Milan catches his eyes again, looking at him through her pretty lashes, shrugging absently. Seemingly completely unbothered by the goddamn loser basically humping her like a dog. Rafe feels his head swim dangerously and his stomach turn as he watches weak hands trail along her perfect body. Her brow quirks at him once before she turns in the guys arms, turning her back on Rafe.

“Rafe?” The girl to his side looks at him questioningly, briefly trying to follow his gaze with her drug-addled brain, giving up and leaning on him again.

“Uh, right, I’ll give it up for $200.”

The girl’s eyes widen as she looks back at her friends who gesture for her to try again. She smiles at Rafe and tilts her head toward him. “Um, how much if we can hang out a little upstairs after?”

“Oh shit.” Kelce chuckles, sniffing and wiping his nose.

Rafe rolls his eyes. He’s so used to girls offering to sleep with him or suck his dick for drugs. Usually they at least ask him to give it to them for free, this girl was gonna fuck him for a discount. He rarely takes advantage of it, on doing it if he was trying to hit anyway. Really, he doesn’t have to exchange free drugs for getting his dick wet. Fuckin’ look at him.

Right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for random pussy. Not when he literally can’t fucking see Milan in his line of sight anymore. And that fucking idiot that was grinding his dick on her was fucking gone too. He needed to look for her ASAP. “You got the $200 or what?”

The girl huffs and digs in her purse, dropping the money in his extended hand and snatching the bag off the table, grumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath as she and her friends stumble outside.

As soon as Rafe pockets money he goes to shoot off of the couch to hunt Milan down, only to be stopped before he can fully stand.

“Is that cocaine?”

Milan’s sweet voice puts him on red alert. Rafe settles back into his seat and looks at her. She’s staring down at the table worriedly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands in the doorway. “Was that guy a friend of yours?”

“You didn’t wanna dance.” she pouts.

“Okay?”

“And I wanted to dance.”

Brat. “So you, uh, just dance with some random dick instead?” He asks, giving her a disappointed look and relishing in the way she shifts under his gaze.

Interestingly enough, even with his glare, she doesn’t back down, pursing her own lips and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Jeez, you’re strict, I feel bad for Sarah. Is that cocaine?”

“Yeah, I just provide a little party favor for my friends here and there. What, you want a bump?” He starts to test her limits, resting a large, warm hand on her thigh, feeling her through the thin fabric of her skirt. Careful not to move and startle her.

“I don’t do coke. D’you?”

It’s her wide-eyed look. The dimpled frown as she glances back down to the white substance on the table. She gives herself away to him easily. Milan is a good girl. She’s just a good girl who knows she’s pretty. That’s what the whole dance was about. She was being cute. That’s what she does. But she’s not really about shit. Daddy’s girl with a protective older brother. Two dragons guarding their little princess. Never had anyone tell her no and mean it. If Rafe used the logic in his brain, he would know, he’s too much. What he expects of the girls he hooks up with. God forbid dates. He’d turn this pretty little thing out. He should be nice, and leave her alone.

But Rafe isn’t a nice guy. Not really.

“‘Course not, can’t get high on my own supply.” He smoothes a thumb over her knee. “Don’t worry, Princess, it can’t jump off the table and get you.”

Kelce snorts and Milan’s brows furrow. Rafe whips his head around to his friend, nudging him sharply and sending him a silent message. “Oh, uh, I’m gonna get another drink. I’ll be back.” Rafe sends him another look. “Or I won’t.”

As soon as Kelce gets up, Rafe scoots over on the couch, holding one of Milan’s hands and guiding her onto it with him. “That was one of your friends from earlier right? At the country club?”

“Yeah, Kelce, he’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He says absently, reaching over and grabbing the blunt he’d abandoned when he’d started dealing, re-lighting it. “You don’t smoke weed either, huh?”

Milan shrugs, scooting closer. “I just don’t know how to do it by myself.”

God she’s just fuckin’ perfect isn’t she? Rafe hangs his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. It’s like she was sent as a test. She’s already bad as shit, she’s just sitting here, damn near in his lap with her big fuck-me eyes and wide-open personality. She knows she’s sexy and that’s just about it. But her dad let her go because he was supposed to be responsible. That’s big money on the table, and Ward would fuckin’ kill him if he was distracted by the opportunity to hit on the literal oil baron’s daughter. “Figures, pretty thing like you can’t do anything by herself. What, you need me to light it for you?”

“I’ve only ever had someone shotgun it for me.” She says.

Rafe’s hand is at the back of her head, fist in her hair before he can even realize what he’s doing. He pulls her close, tugging her against him and halting right before she hits his lips. He brings the blunt to his own lips, inhaling the smoke before leaning even closer, drunk on the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah?”

When she gasps out a breath, offering him a little nod, already puckering her plump, lips for him.

Fuck it. Rafe thinks.

He could be a responsible man for his dad tomorrow.

#oc #love #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #sarah cameron #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafe cameron x oc #milan cabot #what are you willing to do?

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littlewriterfullofwords · 11 months ago

Text

Merry Christmas

Parring: Dr. Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: You throw some Christmas party at your house where you show the BAU team your traditiona

Warnings: fluff

A/N: Hi! So, I'm currently in the 2nd season of CM, so there aren't more characters or anything, I'm new to the series, kinda, so please forgive. Second, the traditions in the ff are my country's traditions. Feel free to share yours in the comments!

"Merry Christmas!" Penelope opened her arms to hug you at the doorframe, big smile decorating her beautiful face. "Thank you for the invitation, sweetheart."

"I'm glad you came." You moved a bit to the side to let your coworker come in. "Make yourself at home, Pen."

"Sure will do." She winked at you and started to walk around your house, from time to time she was making nice comments about the decor.

The next person to come was Spencer. In a red sweater, Mr. "I know it all" greeted you with little, and cute, hand waving, his iconic move.

And after him, the others came in, in the order: Jason, Emily with JJ, Aaron and Derek.

"Your Christmas is a lot different than ours." Started Emily when you put another fish on the table.

"Yeah. Only 12 dishes? You have to try everything? That's insane." Murmured Derek with a glass of dried-fruit juice. "Where did you all get that from?"

"The Bible." Before you could answer, Spencer was faster. "You know, according to the Bible, there were 12 apostles so Catholic countries put 12 dishes on the Christmas table. They also leave an empty seat for an unannounced guest or, more spiritual, for those that had died."

"Yeah." You nodded with a smile. "That's right. Just the tradition, nothing more."

"Tradition is good." Whispered Gideon. "Tells a lot about the person."

"Once again, thank you for having us." Hotchner interrupted the info dump. "It might be a new experience for us, but that's life, right? We learning."

"Oh, stop. You making my angel blush!" Garcia petted your back in a soothing manner but with a smile on her face.

You were glad they came. Hey, they were family and Christmas is family time. You needed them now due to your family being all dead.

After dinner, came the present time! Everyone gathered in the living room and Derek, with a red Santa's hat, started to dispense the presents. Of course, he had to add something funny before giving it to the final owner, which has been making everyone laugh.

The atmosphere was amazing. It felt family-like and you didn't want it to go away any moment soon.

"It's party time!" Said Morgan, and with Emily by his side, they opened champagne and other alcoholic drinks they had brought.

Immediately , it reminded you of New Year Eve and the party your friends had always thrown. There was always lots of alcohol, music, dancing and many more.

"Let's go!" JJ grabbed your wrist and pulled into the dancing circle, you had no other choice but to join them, and you did.

Saying you weren't having the best time of your life would be a lie. You were so happy with those people, you were ready to call the your fucking family, and in your head you were. You loved each of them in your own way, and you hoped they noticed that. Well, they were profilers, they sure did.

The clock on the wall was showing 3:15am, with its quiet ticking interrupting the quiet carols. You turned off the tap in the kitchen and dried your hands. Everyone was asleep, either on the couch, armchairs or floor while you had been washing the dishes and cleaning after the party.

As quiet as possible, you came back to the living room with blankets and covered everyone with one, you didn't want them to catch a cold.

"Happy Christmas." You whispered with a shy smile before you started walking to the stairs.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N." The quiet voice of Reid's made you stop in the half way and smile again before you looked his way.

"I thought you were sleeping. Sorry if I woke you up."

"You didn't, don't worry." He shook his head with his innocent smile you liked so much.

"Would you like to join me for a movie?" You hesitated some time before asking that, it was your little secret.

"Sure." Spencer lifted himself from the armchair and came up to you, then followed you upstairs.

You had this thing, you needed to watch your favourite movie after Christmas Eve to fall asleep. It was hard to explain why only this time of year but you didn't complain. You loved the movie, so it was a pleasure.

"If you don't mind, we will watch 'The Nightmare before Christmas'." You said when you finally reached your room and turned on the TV.

"Whatever you want. I'm fine with that." Spencer sat next to you, on the floor by the bed and placed his head on his knees. "Did you know that Tim Burton only produced the movie, not directed it?"

"I read it somewhere. But thank you for reminding me that." A little smile appeared on your lips before you clicked 'play' and the movie began.

Only a few minutes of the movie passed and in the corner of your eye you saw Spencer rock back and forth.

"You know you can say that, right?" You whispered with your head turned his way and a smile. "That's okay. Go on."

"Did you know that Danny Elfman only voices Jack's singing, not his spoken voice?" With your permission, Reid lets out his kept breath, what made you chuckle, and he started to talk. "He also voices two other characters, Barrel and the Clown."

"Really? That's so amazing." You whispered. "It's good to have you by my side."

"Oh, that's... nothing big." Spencer scratched the back of his head in a shy manner.

You moved on with the movie, with Reid giving you some fun facts about it. And even though you knew all that, you'd been a fan since day one, you've been listening carefully like if you didn't know them. You loved listening to Spencer, you loved his knowledge and how passionately he was sharing it. You loved... Spencer. You liked it or not, you were in love with him and his knowledge.

Unluckily, the movie ended, so did your time with Reid.

"Thank you for your company." You said and turned the TV off. "And thank you for coming...to the party. I had the best time."

"We should be thankful." Chuckled Spencer. "You taught us a lot. We now understand more."

"Don't tell me you don't profile each other on a daily basis?" You joked.

"We do....At least I do. Especially Hotch." Reid looked at the open door as if Aaron was about to come in. "He's the easiest to read."

"True." You both laughed but immediately hushed it because you remembered about sleepyheads downstairs. "Especially his mood."

Your coworker smiled and nodded his head as an agreement.

You both were going along very well, even too well sometimes, from Emily's point of view (good meaning). She really often has been telling you, that you and Spenc were acting like siblings.

"If you want, you can stay here." You offered when Reid started to get up from the ground, you didn't think what were you saying.

"I-...A-... I'll go downstairs. I have my stuff there." He looked hesitant and a bit embarrassed, especially his eyes were hesitant.

"Sure." You nodded and watched him leave the room. "Spenc."

Seconds after him leaving, you called after him and ran up to him.

"Yeah?" Asked Reid with confusion.

"Merry Christmas." Shy kiss was planted on Spencer's cheek before you turned around and disappeared behind the door to your room.

"Me-....merry Christmas." Whispered the man while touching the place your lips touched.

#ff writer #ff #spotify #criminal minds #criminal minds ff #criminalminds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader

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lonelywhalien22 · 2 years ago

Text

pretty lies - part two

pairing: vernon x reader

rating/genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, band au

summary: supporting your friend mingyu becomes way more than you ever could have bargained for when you become involved with one of his bandmates

warnings: cussing, vernon has issues in this story but please remember this is a work of fiction, mingyu stans don’t hate me but mingyu and reader are just friends

word count: 2.2k

prev. chapt. | series masterlist | next chapt.

Next Tuesday rolled around and you pulled up in front of Mingyu’s apartment again. You opted to just wait in the car, sending him a quick text to let him know you were there. He came out with just one black bag this time.

“Need any help?” you asked, hoping he would say no. Since finding out that the guy from the party was not only your friend’s bandmate, but was also living with him, the commitment you’d made to Mingyu seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

“Nah, most of the setup is left over at Jay’s place.”

“Great,” you said a little too eagerly before pulling out of the driveway and heading to the house, Mingyu once again guiding you along the way.

“So. How has it been living with Vernon?” you asked, hoping it didn’t seem like an out of place question.

“Fine. I don’t see him much and when I do he keeps to himself. He’s clean, so that’s a plus.”

“He’s the new singer and guitarist?”

“Yeah, and he’s really good too. We might actually have a chance to win Battle of the Bands this year with his help,” Mingyu responded with a hopeful glint in his eye.

You’d heard Mingyu mention this event before. It was an annual competition with an impressive lineup of amateur artists. The winning group or artist got a recording contract with a major record label from the region and a two month long tour as the opening act for one of the label’s artists. You remembered cheering for Mingyu when he and the band had made third place years ago. Since then however, the group had made several changes to members, a lot of them being duds. He hadn’t even invited you to watch him the previous two years, so the fact that he was mentioning it again meant he was really excited about their chances this time around. With the recording contract, Mingyu would finally be able to make the transition to making music full time. You wanted to do whatever you could to help your friend succeed in making his dreams come true.

“I’ll see you at eight,” you told Mingyu as he got out of the car once you pulled into the house driveway.

—————

Eight came and you were back at Jay’s house, waiting in your car to pick up Mingyu. Last time he’d been ready right on the dot, but this time there was a delay, so you entertained yourself on your phone for a little bit. After fifteen minutes of waiting, you sent him a text to see if they’d be finishing up soon:

You: checking to see if you’re done? haven’t had dinner yet so I’m starving.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and still no response. Sighing in frustration, you got out of the car and made your way to the front door of the house. The sound of drums and guitars could be heard as you walked up the driveway. You knocked before realizing they probably couldn’t even hear you, and then decided to take a chance at the door being unlocked again as you started to make your way inside.

The music had stopped abruptly shortly after you’d cracked open the door, and you could hear a discussion going on.

“I’m telling you, it sounds better if we do it like this -” You didn’t recognize this voice as much; it must have been Vernon’s.

“This song has been a crowd favorite as is,” you heard Mingyu cut in. “I just don’t think we should take a chance doing something new so close to the competition. We can work on fleshing out your other song idea next Tuesday.”

“You said that last time and we still haven’t done anything with it. Stop bullshitting and tell me the truth if you’re not gonna take any of my ideas seriously.”

“Ok, why don’t we all just cool down,” you heard Jay interject before Mingyu could respond, seemingly trying to keep the peace. “We still have plenty of time before the competition. Plus I’m hungry. So let’s stop here and -”

Before you could hear the rest of the conversation the door pulled open completely, and you came face to face with Vernon again. He moved so quickly neither of you had enough time to react and he bumped into you, letting out a startled grunt as he nearly knocked you over. Your head came into contact with his chest, and you caught a whiff of what smelled like a mix of smoke and shower gel. You steadied yourself and as he backed up, he gave you another one of those intense stares, but his eyes looked a little glassy this time.

Without a word, you quickly stepped out of his way and he quietly brushed past you. You turned and watched as Vernon shoved on a black denim jacket he was carrying in one hand before securing his guitar case on his back and hopping on his motorcycle parked in the driveway. As he forced on his helmet and started the ignition, you noticed something on the ground near your feet. It was his journal. The same one he’d snapped at you for touching at the party. You crouched and picked it up, your thumb smoothing over the leather surface. You could still see a red stain on the page ridges. Hearing the loud revving of an engine, you remembered he was about to leave.

“Hey! Wait!” you shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of the motor as you quickly walked towards Vernon. But he pushed up the kickstand on the bike with his foot and peeled out of the driveway. The sounds of the engine grew fainter and fainter until all that was left was a deafening silence.

“Y/n?” The voice startled you out of your trance. It was Jay.

“Hey,” you said, still a little shaken. You tucked the notebook under your arm before speaking again. “It was getting late so I came in to see if Mingyu was ready to go.”

“Damn, of course. I’m so sorry we lost track of time tonight. Hey Mingyu, come on man, y/n’s waiting for you.”

“I’m coming,” Mingyu responded, looking a little ruffled as he appeared in the doorway.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry we were so late.”

“Treat me to some food and all is forgiven.”

Mingyu’s smile appeared again at your words.

“Deal. We can go to that ramen place you like by my apartment. You mind if Jay comes along?”

“The more the merrier.”

—————

Thirty minutes later, you, Mingyu, and Jay were slurping up noodles in a booth tucked away in the corner of your favorite restaurant, the broth warming you up from the chilly winter weather outside. You silently continued eating as Mingyu and Jay joked with each other over beers, their earlier spat with Vernon seemingly forgotten. Said person’s notebook was hidden away in the glove compartment of your car. You knew he’d likely realize it was missing immediately and thought it’d be best to give it back to him tonight when you dropped Mingyu off, assuming he didn’t rip your head off first when he saw you with it. Maybe you’d just set it on a counter somewhere noticeable where he was likely to find it and leave, you thought to yourself assuredly.

“What’re you thinking about in there,” Mingyu asked as he playfully poked your forehead.

“How was practice today? You guys have a gig this Saturday, right?”

“We went through the whole setlist today a few times and I think we’re all set,” Jay piped up excitedly.

“What about Vernon? He didn’t seem too happy with how things were going from what I heard.”

“So you did see that,” Mingyu sighed in exasperation.

“What was he so worked up about?” you pressed.

“It was just a little disagreement over some stuff that’s still a work in process. He’ll get over it.”

“Was he late again? Is that why practice went over?”

“Vernon’s clearly been through some shit,” Jay intervened as he downed the rest of his beer. “Doesn’t have any friends or family from what I can tell. Maybe we should cut him some slack.”

“He’s an amazing singer. The best the group has ever had if I’m being honest,” Mingyu circled his finger around the lip of his beer glass, deep in thought. “Dream housemate too. Just don’t touch his shit and the two of you will get along fine,” he consoled you as if you were scared, patting your head.

You thought back to the notebook, safely tucked away in your car. Was there something you should be scared of?

—————

After seeing Jay off, you and Mingyu made your way back to his apartment. When you parked and Mingyu got out, you reached over and grabbed Vernon’s journal out of the glove compartment, tucking it under your arm again. You helped Mingyu up to the apartment entrance and unlocked the door for him to speed things up, too cold to waste time laughing at him fumbling with the keys drunkenly.

“Thanks y/n,” Mingyu said cheerfully.

“Of course, buddy.”

He started making his way towards the stairs to his bedroom. Perfect, now all you had to do was find someplace to leave the notebook where Vernon would easily find it. Maybe over -

“Oh hey!” you heard Mingyu exclaim.

The owner of said notebook appeared from around the corner, dressed comfortably in black sweats and a matching hoody. For a moment you were surprised he was actually there. Mingyu had made it sound like he was rarely ever home, but then it clicked.

He must’ve already realized the journal was missing and waited for Mingyu to get back.

“Mingyu, have you seen - ”

“What a nice surprise seeing you here on this lovely night!” Mingyu interrupted with a goofy laugh, bringing Vernon in for a hug. He looked completely startled, awkwardly standing there as Mingyu patted his back. You almost bursted out laughing at the sight, forgetting how friendly Mingyu got when he was inebriated.

Quickly realizing he was drunk, Vernon looked away from him, whispering a, “damnit” as Mingyu finally let him go and continued upstairs. Vernon raked a hand through his hair roughly, clearly in a deep internal panic. Seeing him so frazzled, you were tempted to play with him a bit. Make him suffer for the way he’d treated you last night.

“Ahem.”

Vernon turned towards you, and you saw the mix of frustration and worry in his eyes. You thought back to how glassy his eyes had been when you bumped into him back at Jay’s house. Then you thought about Jay’s words from earlier:

“Vernon’s clearly been through some shit,” Jay intervened as he downed the rest of his beer. “Doesn’t have any friends or family from what I can tell. Maybe we should cut him some slack.”

“It’s Vernon, right?” You decided to offer an olive branch instead.

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

You took a deep breath. The two of you would be seeing each other a lot for the foreseeable future. Might as well get on speaking terms after starting off on the wrong foot. You didn’t want Vernon’s hostility towards you to potentially jeopardize Mingyu’s and Jay’s chances at winning the Battle of the Bands competition. You’d feel terrible if that happened. So you tried again.

“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself, walking closer and extending the arm that wasn’t holding his journal, offering your hand.

Brown eyes still stormy and lips in a tight line, Vernon looked down at your hand for a second before looking back up at you. You nervously waited another few beats before feeling his hand suddenly grasp yours slightly and give a light shake. His skin was surprisingly warm and soft, save for the few bands of cold silver that adorned his fingers. You studied his face, waiting for him to say something, but he stayed silent.

Guess that’ll do for now, you finally conceded, reaching under your arm with your other hand and pulling out the journal, holding it up for him to see. You felt Vernon’s hand quickly drop yours, warmth immediately leaving your fingertips.

He grabbed the book from you, gingerly this time.

Sensing he was ready to bolt, you quickly said, “I didn’t read it. Just so you know. And I’m sorry again about last night. It honestly was an accident.”

Assuming he’d once again remain silent, you turned around and began to let yourself out of the apartment.

“I’d get in the bathroom before him tomorrow unless you want to be late to whatever you’re doing,” you offered one last thing as you opened the door, speaking of Mingyu. “He takes the longest showers ever when he’s hungover.”

“Sorry.”

“Huh?”

“About last night. And earlier tonight. Sorry.”

You tried not to show your surprise as you looked over your shoulder back at Vernon.

“Consider it forgiven. And good luck on the performance this Saturday.”

You finally stepped outside and closed the door, unable to shake the feeling of his hand against yours as you drove all the way back home.

prev. chapt. | series masterlist | next chapt.

taglist: @twogyuu

#vernon fluff #vernon smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen #vernon x reader

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scoops-aboy86 · 7 months ago

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✨WIPS PLS!!!✨ 3! (i lov halloween), 4! (bc first was yUM), 8 (👀)

and some of my tru love baby girl ravening pls pls pls

(no pressure - like it said just ideas is fun!! or snippets if ur feeling generous ;3c )

(WIP ask game)

You got it! Heh, all of these are chubby Steve.

The Halloween one is fun. It's an anon ask that I'm working on a half conversational response, half fic for because I know it'd get away from me in a big way if I tried to write it now, but basically the Party pranks Steve with fake food (my addition) so Steve and Eddie prank them back by Eddie distracting them while Steve is going to pretend to eat all their candy (although there's backup candy to give them instead, because he could never do that for real… to El, anyway). Except this plan was both conceived and executed while a little stoned, so Steve gets the munchies and ACTUALLY eats all six bags of trick or treating haul. 😜 … Okay I might write some of the candy eating and the aftermath once I'm done spitballing a backstory, we shall see.

For all about that bounce, here's an excerpt:

Steve hasn’t seen Eddie Munson in seventeen days. Not since the quarry, where Eddie fed him and got him off in his car, then stayed to rub his belly through the ensuing stomachache and listened to Steve’s worries about his parents. “Well, speaking as someone who lives with his uncle,” Eddie had said with a wry but understanding smile, “they’re gonna react however they’re gonna react, man. Not a lot you can do about that other than brace for impact and figure out what you want to do next once all the cards are on the table.” “I’m planning on—hic—moving out to live with my best friend,” Steve had mumbled, too sated to be embarrassed about his case of the hiccups or the occasional burp. “Got—urp. Gotta save up a little more to keep eating like this, though.” That had earned him a grin and a gentle wobble of his tight belly. “No ‘if’ in that statement, I like it. You’re a man of action, Steve Harrington, seeing what you want and going for it. Don’t ever let them pressure that out of you.” It had been the most seen and listened to Steve had ever felt in his life—apart from with Robin of course, but that was different.

That's kind of just a recap, the next lil bit is Steve procrastinating on calling Eddie with an entire package of Oreos because he got it out of the phone book and what if Eddie doesn't WANT him to call. (Spoiler alert: he does.)

Ravening is kicking my ass!! I pick at it in little bits and starts, idk. I've gotten as far as, Steve is getting used to the vivid violence of the dreams, and if sometimes he thinks he caught a glimpse of Eddie's tattoos he Does Not Think About It. I gotta get him back to his government provided shrink at some point so he can pointedly quit going again when the guy starts harping on his weight gain, because even on the nights Steve doesn't have one of those nightmares and wakes up so hungry he raids the fridge, he doesn't sleep well. The only way to guarantee a restful night is to eat up and the shrink, Steve tells himself, just doesn't GET that. Maybe driving home from that appointment (and neglecting to schedule another one) is the first time it happens during the day, it's around lunch time so Steve stops for food, maybe he gets it all to go or he eats there and gets takeout for dinner because he doesn't feel like cooking, maybe he also stops by the store for some basic staples, but then autopilots home and… without really knowing when or why it happened, he realizes he's pulled over to the side of the road not all that far from his house surrounded by empty containers and wrappers, his face and hands messy and his stomach packed so tight that all he wants to do is lie back and groan. Or… almost all he wants to do, but he licks his hands clean and drives the rest of the way home and pulls into the garage before getting his pants open and desperately jerking off, the hint of a growl on just the edge of his consciousness and feeling watched the whole time. But not in a creepy or unsettling way, somehow—he wants more.

Another random ravening thought: maybe Eddie can't break through from the Upside Down until Steve bleeds for some reason. Maybe something as simple as nicking himself while shaving, or should I go for something more dramatic? Idk.

#ask #hotluncheddie #chubby steve harrington #scoops words #wg steddie

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theendwhereibegin · 1 year ago

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Universally meant. Earthly bound

I am sorry it took so long for this update to happen. I`ve been on a bit of a downer towards the end of October and then things got hectic at work.

Most importantly, I didn`t want to offer you a half thought chapter just for the love of writing something, anything.

So here we go...

Part 6

This is crazy. Absolutely bonkers. Pedro Pascal in my house, in my kitchen, kissing me, dancing with me and having one of those soppy romantic movies moments. WITH ME! By now I was hyperventilating in my bathroom while he insisted to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen after telling him "No" for half hour. He won, obviously.

I knew I was bound to run into him one way or another as me and Oscar were very good friends. Hell, he even tried to set me up with one of his friends at some point and that`s when the penny dropped, it was Pedro he was trying to set me up with.

*Flashback Christmas Eve 2022*

It was another cold December day and I was trying to make my way to work. Families were passing me by at every step and I couldn`t help but watch them. I was 31 and all I had to show for myself was my career. I longed to have someone to love and to hold at night. I longed to have someone to connect with on a deeper level, but what I craved most, was to become a mother.

I refused to celebrate Christmas. Not because I didn`t like Christmas, because some of my fondest memories growing up happened during the holidays, but I didn`t want to sit awkwardly at a table filled with my friends and their families being alone once again.

Don`t get me wrong, I loved my friends and their partners. I loved their kids like they were my own, but I couldn`t bare sitting through one more Christmas dinner being asked when will I take the risk and start dating again, after all as my best friend Ophelia says " You aren`t getting any younger Olivia and you certainly can`t meet the man of your dreams sitting on your sofa while watching Netflix series now, can you?"

Oscar and his wife Elvira were the ones that made it their mission for me to meet someone. They called me once in a while trying to get me to come to dinner parties, or simply go out with them, but I refused every time. They were so lovely and their kids absolutely adored me, and I adored them, but it felt like every time we would get together the only topic they wanted to talk about was my love life.

Today wasn`t any different.

My phone rang loudly in my bag and looking at the screen I saw Oscars name in large letters. I let our a sigh and answered as I didnt want him to think I was totally avoiding him.

"Olivia, we are having a Christmas dinner party. Nothing crazy. Me, Elvira, our kids and one of my friends. He couldn`t go with his family to celebrate cause he had a project going on so, what do you say?" Oscar was like the big brother I never had, but always wanted, but sometimes I felt like blocking his number.

"Hello to you too Oscar. I am fine, thank you for asking. Oscar, you know how I am with dinner parties. I don`t like them, especially when you try to set me up with someone I don`t know! " I said in an exasperated tone.

"I swear to God I am not trying to put you in an uncomfortable position. I just hate the thought of you alone, plus my friend is single as well and he is a really nice guy. You might actually like him, you know? "

"Not gonna happen Isaac. Whilst I am sure your friend is a nice guy, I don`t want to be set up, you know that!"

"Fine! Stay alone for Christmas. At least stop by before the dinner so we can give you some of it at home. I know your fridge is always empty! You deeply annoy the life out of me Olivia!"

"Okay! But promise me your friend wont be there when I show up to pick up the food!" I knew Oscar and he thought of inviting the guy earlier so that I would bump into him, but I couldn`t say no to food. Elvira cooks some of the best meals I have had since moving to New York.

"I won`t. I promise!"

After work I made my way to the Isaac`s house, and like a true ninja, I managed to hide behind every mail box and bush I could find, in order to snoop and see if his friend was indeed not there. Knowing how Oscars mind works, its better to be safe than sorry.

I knocked softly on their door and two small giggles. Elvira opened the door just to reveal my two favourite trouble makers, their two sons.

"Auntie O!!!" said the eldest while hugging me for dear life.

Oscar was now using his kids as lethal weapons and I knew that because both of the boys were now looking at me with those puppy dog eyes I can`t resist. It took a lot in me to keep my ground and not give into their cuteness.

"Hey Olivia" Elvira greeted me with a hug. "I have your food ready to go. I am sorry you will not be joining us. Oscar has been moping around since he ended the phone call with you, but I understand. Don`t worry. We`ll catch up some other time"

"If it`s not my loner of a best friend." said Oscar while directing me with his eyes towards the kitchen.

"I am sorry that I won`t stay, but you know how I get in social situations. Your guy may be nice and all, but I am a wreck and I will make a very bad first impression" I said while sitting down at their kitchen island.

"You just think the worst about yourself, aren`t you? You wouldn`t be here and you wouldn`t be one of my best friends if you were the way you describe yourself O. I hope you know that"

"I appreciate that you didn`t get him here earlier than he is supposed to."

"I thought about it, not going to lie, but I didn`t want to give you a panic attack." said Oscar reassuringly.

Sure he was stubborn, but the thing about him is that he cared deeply about the people that he held close to his heart and he would never hurt them on purpose.

"If you wait for what that old lady from Chile told you, you`ll wait until you are old and grey Olivia. True love doesn`t happen while you are closed in your house. True love is out there, in pubs, parks, Christmas dinners. Not in front of your TV. " and he was right, but my previous relationship made sure to make me believe that the old lady from Chile was either high or drunk when she told me that I will find love in the strangest of places and that the forces of good will work for me to find it.

"I know Oscar. I am just not ready for any type of love at this point."

"He really did a number on you didnt he? I am so sorry O. Your time will come, maybe sooner than you think. If there is someone in this world that deserves happiness and love, its you." he hugged me and I made my way to the door.

Saying my goodbye`s I felt like I should have stayed maybe. They were my best friends and I felt bad for turning them down, but at the same time I wanted to be alone.

*Present Day*

I went out of the bathroom to find Pedro at the sink still washing dishes.

I hugged him from behind and rested my head on his back while letting out a deep content sigh.

"Hey there stranger. I thought you made a run for it" said Pedro while taking one of the hands that was wrapped around his waist to plant a sweet kiss on.

"That would be a weird move seeing as I live here and all that" his laugh vibrated through his whole body.

"True" and with that he turned around and planted a kiss on my lips.

"I don`t think I will ever get tired of seeing you blush baby. It seems to be happening quite a lot." he said while I tried my best to hide my face from him.

"I don`t blush. Its just very warm in here."

"Sure it is." and just as he finished his sentence his phone started ringing on the coffee table in the living room.

"Hey Oscar!" I heard Pedro greeting the person on the other end.

And that`s when my breath caught in my throat. I was meant to call Oscar back 2 days ago and with everything going on I completely forgot.

I could only hear Pedros side of the conversation and it was filled with "Yes" , "No" .

At the same time my phone started ringing as well in the kitchen and I raced to get it. Once I reached it I went into the bedroom to continue the conversation.

"Hey Elvira! How are you?"

"I am good. You are in a cheery mood. Did my girl finally go out and about?"

"No I didn`t and no I don`t sound cheery"

"So, Oscar made me call you because you always say no to him, but you kind of give in and say yes to me." I swear I rolled my eyes into another dimension.

"We are having a game night with the boys and they demanded that their auntie Olivia needs to join us. Before you say anything, think about the fact that you will say no to your sweet, loving, cute nephews."

"You have a way with words E. Why would you do this to me? You know I cant say no to them!" Pedros conversation must have been over because he was now leaning on the door frame of my bedroom with a smile on his face.

"Now, because its Monopoly as per their request, and our boys don`t really qualify to play alone just yet, I will have one on my team and Oscar the other, and we need at least 4 players to make it fun..."

"...Elvira, where are you going with this?" I said rather suspicious.

"One of Oscar`s friends is going to join us."

"I swear to God, your mission in life is to get me , at least laid" hearing this Pedro could barely contain his laughter and my face went bright red. To make it more fun, I put the phone call on speaker so that he can her Elvira as well.

"Its not our mission, well not the only mission. You are an amazing girl and you deserve an amazing guy, and this guy Olivia, this guy is like he was designed to be with you. You are both awkward at times, and funny, and loving and also, you both love our boys so much. Come on. One time. If you dont like the guy we won`t ever try to set you up."

"Promise?" I asked while looking at Pedro. He was now the one hugging me from behind planting kisses on the top of my head. He made it hard to concentrate.

"I promise O! I promise! So?"

"Fine, Ill be there but only cause I love my nephews and I can`t say no to them! "

"See you at 5!" and with that she hung up on me.

"I`m sorry P. I need to go or they will literally haunt me with this until my dying breath."I was now turned around face to face with him. He said nothing. He just looked at me smiling from ear to ear.

"Well we better get ready then, because if we are late Oscar is gonna have us killed. "

"Wait, that`s why he called you?"

"It seems like their mission isnt to get you laid." I tried avoiding eye contact with him but his fingers directed my chin up, and gave me no choice but to look at him. "Their mission is to make the two of us meet and we are going to have a bit of fun with that now, won`t we?"

He had a playful look in his eyes now. And while discussing our plan I got all excited about how everything will unfold.

"We won`t let them know we are dating" he said.

"We won`t, wait, we are dating?"

"Only if you`ll have me" he said while his lips were inches away from mine.

"I wouldn`t give you up for anything in the world" and the distance between us was now long forgotten. There was no drop of neediness in his kisses, it was just the constant need to be close to me, to feel me, to touch me.

As we looked at the clock it was already lunch time. While I would have loved to spend the day with him until we went to Oscars, we both knew that in order for our plan to work we needed to arrive separately and pretend we didn`t know each other.

Easier said than done. All I wanted was to be with him, near him. All I wanted was to hold his hand and steal kisses. All I wanted was to be his, but I needed to put my game face on.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #writing #wattpad #fanfiction #fanfic

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declanfs · 1 year ago

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Granny got you this fabric copy of The night before Christmas at a craft show and this was your first time reading it. You LOVE to read lately. And by that I mean you love to be read to, but this is how it starts. We started this challenge at the library to read 1,000 books before kindergarten on November 6, (today is 11/20) and in 14 days we have already read 66 books. Some are duplicates but I rarely initiate reading, Unless its the pre-sleep time routine. You love to read during dinner, and once we read one book you keep getting more and more books. You the the If you give series right now (mouse a muffin, pig a party, mouse a cookie, etc) and also Biscuit and Friends. Plus Llama llama. We have 22 books checked out right now and that’s only because you chose to renew the books we got the previous library visit and we only returned the two that had people waiting in line. I will never so no to reading you a book and will never complain about reading the same book twice or 10 times. I might offer an alternate idea, but if you say no, we will read if you give a mouse a brownie for the 11th time.

Lately you are also a fantastic helper around the house, sincerely. You might unroll almost the whole entire toilet paper roll, but you work really hard to roll it back up for me. Most of the time you do this unasked, but the unrolling and re-rolling, but its like you cannot resist unrolling it, and then realize that’s not right so you fix it pretty much right away. you also are helpful when it comes to sweeping things up, putting your toys away (sometimes, but you are only 2.5), feeding the dogs, putting dishes in the sink, throwing trash away, retrieving various objects when the location is specified (shoes, my water bottle, a book, etc.), and watering plants. You will also sometimes clean up spills or messes by yourself, but if you don’t, you at least tell me when there is a spill or mess so that I can clean it up before it sits too long or gets bigger, which i do really appreciate. Oh, and you put dirty clothes in the laundry room. Sometimes you put them in the washer, sometimes in the dryer, and sometimes just on the floor, but I will never complain about how you try to help. Any help is appreciated!

Our family photo shoot last weekend. I’m sad that the photos you took with dada you were both being blinded by the sun and so squinty, but here’s a cute one of you two sharing ice cream afterward. This was at Chatham manor, and you loved this tree tunnel. I definitely want to take you back, but especially in the spring when the flowers are blooming. I think you will really love it, especially because there is like a labyrinth of flower beds and high hedges and its just right up your alley.

This is you being a walrus at your willow tree. Not that any explanation is needed. With your chocolate milk. Up until November 11, it was a BATTLE to get you into a shirt with sleeves or a jacket. You would cry and fight and pull at the sleeves and tell me to take it off. I calmly explained that it is too cold and that you have to wear sleeves to keep your body safe. You cried and fussed for like 10 minutes, and then we went outside and played. Ever since, you have not minded putting them on at all, which is a major relief. But, upon re-entering the house, you immediately want to take your sleeves off. It seems that the contrast of the cold outside with the warm inside is too much and you get too hot. But as long as you wear appropriate layers outside, you can strip as soon as you come back inside, no problem!

November 20, 2023

Declan, you are just the coolest and most fun kid ever. I *might* be a little biased, but I really enjoy spending my days with you. You are so funny and see the world in such a unique way. I can see the little gears turning in your head as you figure out the world around you, and it is such a joy to bear witness to. You seem to enjoy sleeping a little more these days which seems like a silly thing to note, but even if you protest initially, you’re eventually giving off like “oh, darn” vibes. Like oh, darn I guess it’s time to go to sleep even though I’m not tired *yawn.* Like you’re maybe seeing the link between naps and bedtime and how they seem to occur when you are feeling tired and that you might actually need to rest your body. You say you don’t want to, but you actually do and find comfort in the routine and consistency. My sweet boy, it only took us 2.5 years to reach this point <3

Anyway, we got a pretty fish for the fish tank. He is a tangerine koi beta and is beautiful. You named him Daring Danny X because that’s your favorite paw patrol character, obviously.

Which reminds me of another thing I wanted to share with you. You have started to show like an awareness of what we already have and that we do not always need things at the store. Example, at target today, the woman offered you stickers and you said “no, i already have stickers at home.” And you kind of shrugged your shoulders and lifted your palms up because that’s something you do now too. You are ver emphatic and use hand gestures when you are sure of something. And sometimes when you aren’t. But anyway, last night before bedtime, I asked you if you hoped Santa would bring you a bike for Christmas. You said No. When pressed, you said something like:

I have a little bike and a big bike. I don’t need a bike, I already have two bikes.

So i said, well what if Santa brought you a tricycle, like the bike you rode with dada at that little park one time, and you were very sure that you do not want a bike because you already have 2. Never mind that the little one is now too little, and the “big” one is a strider bike that is legit too big for you even at the lowest setting. And you also really haven’t expressed an interest in the strider bike so far / haven’t figured out how it works. So yes, you have two bikes, but they are different kinds of bikes. So we will see if Santa gets the memo at such late notice. And maybe I will remind you that Daring Danny X has a tricycle to jump off his ramps over the canyon.

You may also be mid-separation anxiety revival, which is really poor timing considering I have my Portland trip coming up in just a few days, but you have been attached to me like a barnacle overnight lately. It’s very disruptive to my sleep, but it also hurts my neck. It’s very comfy and cozy and I love that you find so much comfort and safety in my arms, but just after 1-2 hours you usually stir and wake me up and/or you squeeze me tight to you again which also wakes me up. This is why I’ve started drinking Alani Energy drinks and getting monthly massages. You will not have to sleep alone until you are ready, because I’m honestly not ready for you to sleep alone yet anyway.

This morning when we woke up, I said “Declan, last night it was like i was a big magnet and you were a little magnet. Whenever I moved, you followed me!” And you said “I am??” And then you touched my nose and said “I’m stuck to you, mama magnet.”

I call you my little sugar plum, lightning bug, cutie pie, pumpkin head, etc. You call me Mama monkey or mama mouse or whatever other animals we are pretending that day. It’s so funny that you can toggle between little terms of endearment. But sometimes when I say “goodnight my little lightning bug,” you’ll say “I’m not a lightning bug, I’m Declan!” So there’s definitely a time and place for this little nicknames and sometimes you want to be called Declan.

Another sleep time related thing is singing songs. I’m amazed by how many songs and tunes you remember all on your own, and just how hungry you are to learn more songs. Your brain is a sponge absorbing all these nursery tunes, but you can also identify them when I hum them and sometimes if I try to sing with you, you hold up a hand to let me know that it is your turn to solo a song. So now before bedtime we take turns. Before your nap just now, you sang ABCs pretty much 100% correctly, Twinkle Twinkle, and Baa Baa Black Sheep. Last week we went to circle story time at the library and the group sang I’m a little teapot and head, shoulders, knees, and toes and you seemed intrigued by the group singing with the movements too, so I sang those today. I repeated the eyes and ears and mouth and nose part a few times because you were trying to sing it on your own for the first time and I don’t think you could remember all the words just yet. I’m sure you will spontaneously burst into song later and have them mostly right once your brain processes them during this nap. You just pick things up so quickly and I’m trying to keep up to expose you to things that will build on what you already know and are interested in, its like the funnest quest to embark upon with another person.

Tumblr is not the most user friendly but at this point I am committed. Okay, your nap has now run over by 16 minutes, so no time to edit!

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caffeinesam · 2 years ago

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2018

I think I died four years ago.

The year started with me trying to handle still living with her in spite of us having made it clear it was not to be. My contract up North on a hold, I was stuck at home. We were still watching Twin Peaks together to pass the nights. I slept on the sofa bed, since she had bought the bed and mattress when we moved. The kids felt the tension, A. fled to her friends' homes, S. cried a lot, G. grew distant of us both.

She found some people on Tinder. I asked her "just wait for a bit, we'll figure something". I also found some people on Tinder, or well, J. found me. I cut my hair. Then my employer sent me back to the North. I spent a few weeks, dealing with orders, logistics and the warehouse. Chatting with her and J., I thought I could have something good once back home. Something might even be done to salvage our life. Who knows.

One Friday I saw we were to have a lull in the deliveries and work, so I drove the nine hours on the icy, lonely road, going insanely fast in my old beat-up truck, thankful I had bought the single best, almost magical tires in existence. I didn't go home, I went to J's place. I got there by 3 in the morning. She was waiting asleep in her bed. We kissed, it felt so natural, like we had been together for a decade, and had sex for hours. I woke up in the afternoon, J. was gone ice fishing but had left some croissants if I wanted. I figured her coffee maker, had breakfast, texted her, went home, unsure if I wanted to. Hugged the kids. Felt they were happy but a bit nervous. It crushed me.

I made pizza for dinner. We ate rather quietly. She opened a bottle of merlot that we shared. The kids watched a movie then went to bed. A. went to a friend's party. We were alone.

She wanted an open relationship or to move out, either way continuing renovating the house didn't interest her. I said we could work something out. We got drunker. Laughed. Watched Twin Peaks. She was planning a trip to Cuba with a guy from Alberta. We went to bed. Each in their bed. I took the kids to snowshoe the next day. After lunch I said I had to go back.

I went to J. We fucked again. As I lay with her she told me where we first met. When she was sixteen, she dated the guy I was driving to college - we lived in another town. She's been wanting me ever since. She told me it was better that we do it in the day while her landlord didn't listen - it excited him she said, but sometimes his ten years old was in the room upstairs. I stayed until the last minute and drove the 900 kms to my work camp. I drove in the village with the first rays of the sun, confused and barely coherent.

For the few weeks I spent there I took a more hands-on approach to remain interested in my job. To stay awake. Talking to her didn't interest me as much, J. had taken my thoughts by the groin. She didn't help, more interested in her Cuban escapade than whatever dumb shit I had to say. I couldn't blame her. So I did some electrical works, carpentry, lots of drywall and cleaned up the warehouse. I tried getting the mechanic to do his job but couldn't. He got fired.

I drove back another time, just for J. She told me I could stay the weekend. Waiting for me in her bed at 3 AM again, with a bunch of sex toys we didn't even think of using on her bedside table. The passion of dumbasses needs no help. I lived a physical love I had not lived in years. It was confusing, it was wonderful.

Up North the contracts I helped oversee were about finished. None of the contracts I was initially hired for were going anywhere. I spent my three weeks. Went even further North once to fetch two carpenters who could not land in the village. Too windy. The road was a mess, so was I. I stopped in the only Caucasian village and bought a crate of beer on the way. Accomodations had been arranged beforehand, so me and the two carpenters had our best meals in weeks right there, courtesy of an actual cook being hired for that work site. The dessert were to die for, and I say that as *not a dessert guy*. On the way back we pulled one of my distant cousins from the ditch. We're not supposed to act like tow trucks but in such an isolated place you just do what's right.

Come February, I was back south and management called me to the office. I was "becoming kind of redundent", since the contracts had been granted to the usual contractors. They suggested I went on unemployment for a while, keeping my benefits and all. J. was ok with me coming to live in her place for a time. She was also ok with trying to figure a way to live together. I started with going home for a few weeks, it didn't work out very well. I returned to the sofa bed. Then decided I was better off taking J's offer.

She was tired of her job, so I walked her through the unemployment benefits process and how it could fit into a career boost. I applied left and right. She applied to some jobs. More importantly, we made a kind of life together. We didn't want to. It was obvious we would be happy together but we would never allow it to be.

This whole thing was just a missed college fling taking shape in our mid thirties. She was not the tiny dumb cute blonde girl who had fallen for the long-haired goth imbecile that I was not anymore. But I felt things with her that I didn't feel for a long time. It felt fresh, I felt alive.

We made it clear, even though I slept in her bed every night, we were not "together" together. Even though I cooked and cleaned for her as she tried new jobs and new outlets, I was not in any way hers, she was not, in any way, mine.

But how did she want me, and how did I want her...

We were just friends, in bars, just friends. Until our hands found each others. We were friends, just friends, roommates even, just doing our groceries dancing together in the aisles cheek to cheek. I was not even properly separated, she was trying to learn to go free after a 10 years shitty relationship. We were just helping each other go through a rough patch.

It was painful. We were so perfectly cut for each other. Her one missing tooth, my chipped one from my tongue piercing. Her constant fear of herpes outbreaks, my constant fear of a psychotic outbreak.

She went on a date out of town once. Romantic ski resort thing. I went to my cousin's place, 350 miles away. He had a new girlfriend, college girl. Half his age. It was a bit weird. Barely older than my eldest daughter.

I drank too much. Blacked out. Apparently, I hit on some 20-somethings until my cousin told me they were in uni with his girlfriend. Freaked me out. The next day, I was a mess. Didn't move much from his couch until I was able to drink again. A swig of bourbon and we hopped in his beige Cadillac (it's just a winter beater he swore) and he took me to the Casino. Took a couple glasses of wine and a burger, went back to abusing alcohol. Won a couple dozen thousand dollars somehow.

Hit the road the next day, met an old friend in Montreal. My mind was on J. I slept there, hopped into my truck, obsessing over the meeting point we had agreed on. A particular grocery store she knew of. We were both surprised as we ran into each other, her white SUV and my blue pickup truck, trying to find a spot in the icy parking lot.

We both have a passion for food. A palate that wants quantity as well as quality. We went on a spree. I bought kilos of seafood and fish, she shoveled cheese in the basket. We took some vegetables and cans for good measure. We were kissing and groping in the aisles, acting like teenagers. On the road we set a common playlist and our phones on speaker to stay together. We drove recklessly until the network failed in La Verendrye. We had to stop, regroup and kiss before going on.

We spent a couple weeks of bliss. I picked the girls at school, went for a walk, dropped them home, picked J. at her office. She liked sitting right beside me on the bench. I thought we could make something work, but it was not to be. At some point I wore out my welcome. J's many lovers left me with an unfair advantage, I was in the way of her plans, whatever the reason, I had to go.

At some point in the bliss phase she showed me a college planner from a year she was still in high school. She had to steal is somewhere or to buy it from some older acquaintance. My picture was circled with hearts and stars. It felt weird.

Anyway, I went back to my parents for a bit. Driving back and forth for whatever temporary work I could find. I still had J's key, slept there when she was at some new fling's place. Taking care of the cat. Cleaning up the flat. Hoping she would come back and wake up by my side. She never did, and one night I dropped my key in her mailbox, never to return.

One April morning, not knowing where to go or what to do, I went for a drive around the area. Now, the scale and isolation of the region I live in has to be mentioned. The region has about the size of the United Kingdom at least, for maybe 200k inhabitants, concentrated in three towns and maybe 20 tiny municipalities. It is huge, lonely and empty. So I drove on a full 135 liters tank of gasoline until it was almost empty, filled it, drove until it was empty again, filled it again, and drove into logging roads that were not maintained since two weeks before.

I will pause here and remind that these are snowy, icy conditions. These are our daily lives almost half of the year. And there was a surprise snowfall the previous day. When a road is not maintained, not used, the snow piles. When you drive on piled snow, it goes in your engine bay. If it is not properly protected, and mine was not, snow will accumulate where you do not want it to. Accrete as snow, melt as water, and freeze back as ice. Ice, a solid, will cut through rubber. Through kevlar. This is what happened.

25 kilometers into a logging road, the entrance of which was 45 kilometers north of the last time I saw my phone have any sort of signal, my motor's drive belt snapped. I lost control of my steering, lost the alternator, lost everything. Soon, when the battery died, the motor would die and not start back. I strained to park on the side of the trail and assess my situation.

-1°C, cloudy, 70 kilometers north of any cell phone signal, in a wool coat and thin leather boots, with no food or water.

Maybe I could make a run for it. I had run a few marathons the year before, ran ultras before ultras were a thing. In the context, survival was definitely possible, but considering how tired I was, how late it was, only moderately probable. I weighed my chances. Staying there was certain death anyway. Maybe I would find a trail to a cabin somewhere.

I rummaged through the truck, found an old wool hat and a better pair of boots under the back seat. One single granola bar in the glove compartment. I swapped my boots, wrapped my face in my scarf and started to jog in my tire tracks.

My body heat up, blood pumping, the familiar strain of the first few miles. I shut down my phone to save battery, just in case. Then after about half an our the snow started to fall.

Thick, heavy, very wet snow.

I was thinking of when I would be found, dead, cold, maybe ten miles north of my salvation. It pissed me off. If there was a god, that was a cheap death, such a fucking cheap death. "Fucking asshole, you better let me win this one! You can't make me end up like this!" Thankfully, my coat, no matter how unfit for the situation, was made of real wool. Dry or wet it would keep my body warm.

I kept jogging, angry and getting desperate. I would probably die there between a pine grove, a patch of 20 years old birch and a bog. I had run maybe 8? 10 kilometers? This was so stupid. An experienced mechanic, dying because of a busted drive belt.

The dark clouds suddenly split, showing the 3 PM sun, drying my black coat a bit. I made a salute to it "Thanks mate, real appreciated" Vapor rose from me as I ran on. I thought of the granola bar, as hunger had made its way into my body. "Later. One more mile. One more mile." The wet snow came back, slapping my face with violence, making my jeans wet and cold.

This is where it becomes anticlimactic and I would bet my last dollar that I died and slipped into another plane of existence. As I pushed on, refusing to eat my bar, a pair of headlights appeared. Not those of a semi or a pickup truck, but of a tiny Subaru.

"The road doesn't lead anywhere" I said.

Inside the car was its own college frat microcosm. The Boston terrier that cheerfully invited me in made a few strides outside and jumped on me. He reminded me of hers, poor dog she didn't have the time or knowledge to raise. It ended up biting S's face so I left her with a choice, find it a home or the SPCA. She found it a home, but they had to put it down anyway. Poor thing had a violent streak. Killed two other pups.

"I'm trying to go to [military base], I'm a weaponry tech! I come from [town], my girlfriend is a radio DJ for NRJ there."

"What the FUCK are you doing here kid?"

"Google Maps showed me a shortcut, but I lost signal."

"OK so turn around. Either you're supposed to save my life here or it's the complete opposite."

"What?"

"The road you want is many miles South. You missed a turn somewhere, I'll show you. So turn around, this road has not been maintained for a few weeks."

"Oh hahaha that's why there's a foot of snow hahahaha!"

"Uhhhh yeah and that's why my truck broke down. Look I can show you where your shortcut is, but can you drop me at the convenience store in [town]?"

He drove me there. I gave him two bottles of Gran Coronas cabernet. I called my ex, she was asleep. I called my dad, no one picked up, they were probably asleep. I called J.

"Are you too drunk to drive?"

"Uhhh not yet. Why? I'm with [the other J] by the way."

"Look I'm in [town], I tried to reach everyone else I know. Can you come and get me?"

"[mutter mutter] Hehe yeah!"

I waited about an hour, but sure enough J. and J. showed up both completely drunk in the snowstorm. My J. gave me the most elusive kiss I ever got, her J. went in the store to buy some white wine. I fell on the back seat, tired and hurt. They dropped me at my house. I got in. My ex got up the stairs, asked what the fuck was up. I gave her a vague answer, opened the sofa bed and fell into a slumber.

I fucking died between a fucking pine grove, a patch of 20 years old birch and a bog.

#slices of life #unreality #short story

0 notes

youaintnothinbuta · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii!!!

I was wondering if u could do a Elvis Presley imagine. Where you two have a fight and he says some horrible stuff to u and u leave in the car and get into a really bad car accident.

can end how u like. Sorry if this is really bad I’m new to all this!!

LOVE ur writing btw😘

elvis - “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.”

I LOVE THIS IDEA I hope this is okay, enjoyyy!!

Summary: ^^^

Warnings: arguing, yelling, angry Elvis, car crash, hospital

MASTERLIST

_______________________

You and Elvis had been out to one of his friends house parties, but the the night drew to a close sooner than anticipated as a downpour of rain began soaking everyone and everything, pelting you with the kind of raindrops so big they almost stung. You decided it would be best for the both of you to just go home anyway, as you’d been constantly bickering and making nasty comments at the other since you arrived at the party.

“I hate that you don’t trust me, you know that? If anything, I should be the one who can’t trust you, with the girls hangin’ off you like they do!” You barked at him, having to yell extra loud to be heard over the rain, slamming the car door as he and you pulled up to the front of his Graceland home, his parents not home, being out for dinner.

“Fuck sake Y/N! You always bring it back to the girls, don’t ya? Too damn insecure, get a grip, it’s unattractive.” He argued, unlocking the front door, pushing it open so aggressively it slammed against the wall and bounced back to hit your nose, the smack stinging your cold skin as you walked inside behind him.

“Don’t speak to me like that, Elvis. I’m your girl, not your damn maid!” You scolded him as he headed to the kitchen, dripping water through the house. You followed him, grabbing a wine glass out of the cabinet, needing something to calm your mind a bit.

“I’ll talk to you however I fucking want to.” He seethed, slamming his hand down on the counter next to you, you jumped, fumbling with the glass, watching as it shattered into tiny pieces in front of you.

“Oh, god sake, Y/N.” He groaned at the mess you’d just created, tears welling in your eyes. You brought your shaking hand down from the cabinet, unfortunately not without pulling down another fragile glass with it, making you gasp. He glared at you, his eyes the deepest shade of blue, raging like the most wild ends of the ocean. You gulped, preparing yourself for the explosion of anger that was no doubt about to fall from his mouth.

“Get out of the kitchen.” His voice was quiet and soft, eerily quiet.

“Elvis, I’ll clean i—“

“Get out of my kitchen!” Yep, that was the explosion you had expected. He slowly stepped towards you, making you take one backwards. The sound of glass crunched under your heels as you accidentally walk over the fragments on the floor.

“Do you not hear me? Fucking useless. Can’t do anything right, fucking worthless, you are.” He was furious. His deep voice raged at you, you’d never seen him angry quite like this. He continued to walk towards you, yelling a blend of insults and swear words at you, backing you up towards the front door, you kept your distance, genuinely afraid he might throw a punch, which you knew he was more than capable of.

“Get out of my house!” His yell was hoarse and, well, frightening.

“Elvis, please.” You muttered, too many tears welling up in your eyes, they began to stream out and down your cheeks.

“Get out and don’t come back.” He ordered, slamming the door shut in front of you once he’d backed you out the house. You were absolutely shattered, heart feeling like he’d taken it out your body and stomped on it. As hurt as you were, and as tempting as it was to get on your knees and cry until he let you back in, you were angry with him too. You stood up, marching yourself over to your car and hopping in.

“Asshole, talking to me like that, what nerve.” You muttered, starting the car, driving off as fast as you could. You probably would’ve burnt rubber if everything wasn’t rain-soaked. You didn’t really have a destination in mind, apart from far away from him.

Is that it? Are we over? It can’t be. Maybe it should be? I hate him, but I love him. I hate that I love him. Maybe I should go back, that wasn’t like him.

These thoughts tumbled through your mind like it was on spin cycle, your consciousness drifting further and further away from the road as you fell deeper and deeper in thought. And with the rain dulling your hearing and weakening your eyesight, you couldn’t see the truck that pulled out, driving across the road perpendicular to you. You tried to stop, the truck driver tried to stop, but it was too late. You spun the wheel, your car spinning in front of him as the truck ploughed at you. That was the last thing you remember, was the spinning of the car and a piercing ringing in your ear, the feeling of blood rushing down the back of your head before blacking out.

Meanwhile, Gladys and Vernon had just arrived home from their dinner date, to Elvis sitting in the living room by himself, staring intently at nothing.

“Hi, sweetheart! Where’s Y/N?” Gladys asked him.

“Not here. ‘M going to bed.” He mumbled, standing up and trudging his way upstairs.

“Oh, where is she?” She inquired, earning no reply. Elvis got himself into bed, tossing and turning, couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for kicking you out in the rain, but he eventually was able to nod off. In the early hours of the morning, around 3 o’clock, the telephone by the bed startled him awake. He rolled over, groaning, picking up his pillow and shoving it over his ears to try and block out the sound, letting it ring out. The ringing stopped, until it started again, he groaned once again, reaching an arm out to answer.

“Hm?”

“Is this Elvis Presley?” The man on the other end of the line asked.

“Mm.” He hummed.

“My name is Doctor Vincent Langdon. I’m an emergency surgeon at Baptist Memorial Hospital. I’m calling as you are listed as Y/N Y/L/N’s emergency contact.”

That ought to wake him up.

“Surgeon? Y/N? What?”

“The young lady was involved in a car accident, Mr Presley, are you able to come down to the hospital, promptly? We need to collect some information for her medical assessment and the police report, as she is not currently conscious.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” He shot up, panicking as he scrambled to get dressed and go wake his parents up.

“Mama, mama, it’s all my fault. Wake up, mama, we need to go to the hospital.” He whimpered as shook his mothers shoulder.

“Sweetheart, Elvis, what’s going on?”

“Y/N got into a car accident, she’s at the hospital and it’s all my fault, it’s my fault she’s hurt.” Tears began to fall down his cheeks.

“Elvis, what? What happened?”

“Mama, I need you to just get dressed and wake daddy up, I’ll can’t wait any longer I gotta go, please come to the hospital, I’ll explain later, please.” He begged his mom before running downstairs, picking up his keys out the bowl they were all kept in by the front door, hopping into one of his cars. The drive to the hospital was quick, no traffic on the roads at this hour to slow him down. Once he’d gotten inside and explained to the desk who he was and who he was there to see, he took a seat in the waiting room, his knee bouncing up and down, full of nervous energy.

Soon, the doctor who has rung him earlier came to talk to him, explaining what he had been told by the police about how the crash occurred, before getting all your details from him, as you were yet to wake up.

“Can I see her?” Elvis asked.

“If you want to, you can, but she’s only stable, Mr Presley, not awake, it can be pretty jolting.”

“No I-I want to.” He stuttered, the doctor nodded in agreement, showing him to your room. He stood by your body, trembling with guilt as he pulled a chair up beside you.

“They say unconscious people can still sense what’s going on around them. If that’s true- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never should have gotten so angry at you, I never should have kicked you out, this is all my damn fault.” His voice quivered as his eyes burnt with hot tears, his hand curled over yours, he shuddered slightly at the temperature of your skin. It wasn’t dead cold, but cooler than the burning hot he was used to you being.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me. Not now, not ever. God, I know you hear me. Don’t fucking do this to me. I need her. I need her, please, keep her with me.” He pulled his hand away from you, bringing it to his face along with his other hand as he sobbed into his palms.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so damn much. I will regret this for the rest of my life, I’ll never be able to cope if you don’t make it, you have to come back to me. I love you.” His sad spiel was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was the doctor, who informed him that his parents were there. He left you, going to greet them. He sat with his parents outside your room, explaining to them what happened, how guilty he felt, with his mama holding his hand the whole time. The three of them sat for hours until the sun had risen, saying prayers throughout the night for you. When the clock had struck a reasonable hour, Elvis called your parents who lived in another state. Around lunch time that day, his parents went back to Graceland, but he insisted he would not leave the hospital until he could leave with you.

Hours upon hours later, after falling asleep multiple times outside the room you were in, a nurse came to check on you, rushing out, and then back in with a few doctors. You’d been technically conscious for a few hours now, but no one said anything to him because they wanted you to rest, but when the nurse walked in, she found you awake and able to have a conversation with her. The commotion startled Elvis, waking him up.

“W-what’s goin’ on, honey, is she okay?” he asked, pulling the nurse aside to ask.

“Yes, Mr Presley, she is awake. Would you like to speak to her?” She asked.

Immediately, he rushed in, knelt by your beside and held your hand, thanking the lord you were okay. After repeating his apology a thousand times, you smiled.

“Elvis, you didn’t cause it, okay? And especially after the way you spoke to me the other day, I think I’m long overdue for a hug.”

He nodded, pulling you into the tightest, yet most gentle hug he could. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me, ever, okay?” He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t tell me to, then.” You joked, but deep down Elvis still felt awful, indescribably guilty. He spent the next 24 hours with you, telling you how much he loves you over and over again in every way he could possibly think of, until you were able to be discharged and go home with him to Graceland.

__________________

A/N: I didn’t really know how to finish it off but I think it’s kinda cute!! thank you for the request I appreciate it <3<3<3<3<3<3

#elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis x you #austin elvis imagine #elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #elvis #elvis imagine

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fortuositywritings · 3 years ago

Text

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all.

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow.

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong.

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous.

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says.

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff.

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him.

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for.

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside.

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder.

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks.

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing.

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves.

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh.

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends.

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks.

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end.

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round.

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone.

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night.

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand.

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke.

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face.

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch.

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.”

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you.

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow.

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie.

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach.

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands.

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything.

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos.

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after.

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

Text

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

798 notes · View notes

miekasa · 4 years ago

Text

random boyfriend eren hcs (modern/college au)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern/college au, himbo eren supremacy as per usual, but can you imagine eren, armin, and jean living together in one house bye

↯ notes: this is me once again trying out this headcanon format, also because i have lots of thoughts about eren (being normal) and going to college lmao

↯ more notes: sorry i have to repost this again tumblr is being dumb ://

Not a frat boy, but definitely lives by the mantra “work hard, party harder.”

Likes going out to frat parties and keggers first year, but calms down as time goes on. Sophomore year is more house parties and occasionally going downtown to clubs. By the time junior year rolls around tho, he and Jean are thee party hosts. Homecoming, Halloween, Pre-Thanksgiving break, you name it, those two have a reason to throw a party for it

But party doesn’t always mean absolute rager. Sometimes it’s just drinking with your friends, playing pong, and absolutely crushing Jean at uno.

At parties with lots of other people, Eren really doesn’t let people fuck around with you, or any of his friends really. Once almost got into a fight because he watched a guy out his hands on yours and Mikasa’s waists to “move around you.” As if.

Wears his key necklace around all the time, obviously. So he gives you a necklace with a lock on it, with both of your initials engraved on the back.

Nobody really notices it at first, since the chains are long and the necklaces are you usually tucked inside your shirts. But one day, ever the observant one, Armin catches a glimpse of yours resting on top of your shirt. Cue squinted eyes looking back and forth between you and Eren before—eureka! “You and Eren have matching necklaces!!!”

Plays sports, not for a scholarship but just for fun. Gets very pouty when you can’t make it to his games; and gets extra pouty if you show up, but you’re not wearing his jersey.

On the flip side, gets very giddy when he sees you in the stands with his jersey on and very ostentatiously scoops you up into a hug after the game is over.

Literally does not know where the library is until you show it to him. Any of them. Help him.

The worst person to study with if he doesn’t have any actual work to do. Will bother you and prefer to gossip than to let you do your work in peace. If you need an actual study buddy, you should try Mikasa.

Drunkenly hits on you a lot. Scratch that, he hits on you regardless, drunk or sober, despite the fact that you’re literally dating him already.

Literally reserves at least two nights of the week to have dinner with Armin bye and you couldn’t even interrupt them if you tried.

Waits for you outside of your classroom if you’ve had an important presentation or something. Not always with anything cheesy or loud, but just to be able to cheer you on and congratulate you after.

Hates the act of going grocery shopping, but loves going with you. Also because you force him to buy things other than Anytizers and Kraft Mac and Cheese.

Steals your hair ties and scrunchies to put his hair up. Does not fucking give them back, and denies having them, even if they’re piling up on his wrist.

Will drive you anywhere and everywhere. He is your personal Uber. Even if you don’t want him to be, he would rather die than let you get into an actual Uber—and if it’s late at night? Forget it, Eren doesn’t care if you’re 45 mins away, he’ll come get you.

After you stabbed him with your pen for drawing in your notebook (with your very pristine notes), he started leaving sticky notes inside of them instead.

They’re all super random, usually incoherent, and sometimes just drawings, and you’d never tell him, but you keep every single one.

Cuts class a lot, but not to the point where he’s failing. Just when he feels like it’s deserved, you know? Like, if he attended lecture for a class all week, he deserved to skip Friday’s lecture. As a treat.

He’s embarrassing. Endearing, but so embarrassing. Like, singing in the middle of the street embarrassing. Asking you to do a TikTok in public embarrassing. Why do you even love him.

Moves off-campus during junior year and rooms with Jean and Armin in three-bedroom house. So, he’s never actually lonely, but he’s a little crybaby and will whine to get to you to come over.

LOVES sleeping over at your place, though. Because you live with Annie and Mikasa, so your place is always clean and always smells good. Plus Mikasa and Annie are usually busy, which means you get more privacy at your place.

Mikasa honestly just starts making breakfast for Eren in the mornings when he does sleep over, and Annie is so unfazed by his presence.

Jumps at the opportunity to join in on your girls wine-night or skincare-routine night. So what if it’s him and three other girls drinking red wine with face masks on and talking about Anne Hathaway movies while playing Monopoly Deal? It leaves him pleasantly buzzed and his skin is absolutely glowing, suck his dick, Connie.

Likely doesn’t understand a thing about your major/program but listens enthusiastically when you talk about it anyways.

His lock screen is the only selfie he’s ever convinced you to take with him. (That’s okay because he has many screenshots of your snaps for safekeeping and blackmailing).

Tries to get you to exercise with him. If you’re into that, then great. If you’re not, it’s okay, he always has time to stop and take a mid-workout thirst trap to send your way. Because he’s annoying like that.

Once accidentally replied to the whole class instead of just the professor on an email asking him to be a g and bump his 89.9 to a 90. Embarrassing. (The prof did raise in the end tho, so maybe he really does have some charm to him).

Has to wear reading glasses when studying for a long time/or at his computer for a long time, and even though he doesn’t like them, you think he looks super cute in them; so he wears them more often than usual.

Calls you asking for the most obscure school supplies/stationary. “Babe, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare 4x8 poster board laying around now would you?”

Mind you this is at, like, 3am, 12 hours before the poster board in question is due.

Speaking of stationary, is an absolute little shit and steals your good pens. He’s partial to the sparkly ones, if he’s being honest. They make his notes look better, fuck you, Jean.

“Eren, give me back my purple 0.4mm pen.” “I don’t know what that is, sorry.” “Eren, I can see it in your hand!”

Brings you snacks while you’re studying. If you’re really trying to crack down and be serious, he won’t even bother you. Just bring the snacks, bring you water and boba, kiss your little forehead and be on his way.

Has a polaroid camera he got as a birthday gift, and uses it to sneak pictures of you whenever you’re not looking. He keeps the good ones hung up on a sponge board in his room.

He has a few.... riskier ones too, but those are for his eyes only.

Loves to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done. Honestly gets a little pouty when you don’t ask him lmaoo

Purposely leaves his clothes around so you can wear them. Isn’t subtle about it in the slightest. Sometimes leaves them with a note: “Please wear this, you’d look cute as fuck. Thank you. —Management.”

(slightly nsfw below)

Is not too proud to ask you for risqué snaps. Not necessarily full nudes, thought he doesn’t object to those.

Will literally give you hickeys out of boredom. Will pull you onto his lap and start kissing your neck because he has nothing better to do. Also because it leads to sex 7/10 times. The other 3 times, it’s because he falls asleep with his head in your neck lmaoo

Might have once fucked you with one of his lectures playing in the background, but you’ll never tell.

He really likes phone sex. He’s shit at being quiet, so he can only really do it when Jean and Armin are out of the house, but there’s something about only being able to hear your moans to get off that really does it for him.

He’s kind of goofy and absentminded sometimes, so sometimes you’ll be mid-sex and he’ll look at you like “Hey, did you finish your assignment, it’s due tomorrow right?”

And honestly, you kinda wanna be upset, but then you start thinking—“Did I finish my assignment?” And then you realize you did and nod and he’s like “Ok, cool,” kisses your forehead and resumes where you left off.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader

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cevaannss · 3 years ago

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Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

#Chris Evans #Reader x Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #female reader #female reader x Chris evans #Chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #reader insert

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years ago

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Blaise’s Cup of Tea (D.M)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes, nothing too explicit, Draco being a fûxkboy ,Draco being a huge simp

Summary: where Draco is secretly in love with his best friend’s fiancée

Word count: 2122

A/n: had this idea in the shower and I couldn’t help myself. The blog has been a mess recently and for that I apologise.

For Draco Malfoy, a typical night usually consisted of three things.

First, a glass of his favourite spirit; preferably scotch in his hand.

Second, a cigar tucked in between his fingers

And third, a random girl in his bed chambers. It didn't matter if his company for the night shared the same interests as him, it didn't matter if she liked him for who he was or if she liked him solely for being the heir to the massive Malfoy fortune.

Come morning, he would never have to see her again anyway.

His Father, Lucius always chastised him for bringing a different girl as a plus one to social events. Even Narcissa wasn't all too pleased about her son engaging in all these hedonistic activities and bedding random girls.

The friends he’d grown up with were all well on their way to settling down and having children while he was still not even close to having a serious relationship.

“Why can’t you be more like Zabini?” Lucius would say, everytime the Malfoys sat down for a family dinner. Narcissa would agree to this while expressing her desire for grandchildren and Draco would have to refrain from choking on his dinner.

Blaise Zabini, was happily engaged to longtime girlfriend Daphne Greengrass and they were busy planning their Summer wedding.

Every time Draco would meet Blaise for a drink, all he’d talk about was Daphne, the wedding, floral arrangements, invites and party favours. Just last week, Blaise even confessed to having already thought out names for his future children.

Taking a final sip of his scotch, Draco placed his glass on his desk and returned to his bed, where a random brunette girl was peacefully asleep.

He took a few moments to recall her given name in his mind but this attempt remained futile. He couldn’t even remember how he felt while they were doing the deed a few hours prior.

His father was right, he was slowly turning into, for a lack of a better term, “Pig person.”

As he quietly slipped into his bed next to the brunette, he started to think about all the one night stands he’d had in the last few months.

One night stands are appropriately called one night stands for a reason. He knew that.

But it wasn't his fault he couldn’t get that one particular night from four months ago with that one particular girl out of his system.

It had all started out so innocently.

A chance encounter at a bar, alcohol fueled conversation, his hands on her hips on the dance floor and his lips on her lips by the end of the night.

He’d never before met anybody so charming yet painfully frustrating in his life.

Y/n. Y/l/n.

Distinctive features, expressive eyes and lips that quirked upward with a wicked smile.She had one of those faces that had the capability of engraving itself into one’s subconscious and the way her brows furrowed in annoyance indicated that she might have been aware and unnerved by it.

In the few hours he’d spent with her, she’d stimulated his brain with her wits and intellect. She’d made him care about uninteresting things like the witch burnings in the 14th Century. She’d challenged his predetermined notions and world view.

Everything about her was vivacious.

Her effervescence reminded him of a freshly opened bottle of sparkling Rosé on a hot summers day. Crisp yet sweet if you took in a moment for the flavours to sink in.

And Merlin was this girl could kiss!

The way she gently nipped on his lower lip and teasingly traced her tongue left him with something more to be desired.

Nothing happened with Y/n that night. Nothing except feverish kisses and whispers of “I want you.”

They’d spent the whole night talking. He’d never spent the night with a girl and not done anything before.

And she’d left before he could even manage to open his eyes the next morning.

She’d disappeared without a sign or trace.

Nothing but her fruity fresh scent on his pillows remained to remind him that she was in fact real and not some hallucination.

Draco went the the very same bar again the next day with his hopes held high. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.

But to his utter dismay, y/n never showed up.

Soon, it became a habit of his to go to the bar and wait for her.

He’d gotten so desperate at one point that he even interrogated the bar keep about the girl that had seemingly managed to capture his attention in the span of a night.

But no matter how hard he tried, Draco never got any answers.

She became nothing but a distant ghost of a rather blissfully perfect night.

Just when he was about to toss away the memories of y/n and her pretty lips inside a locked and chained box in his head, he heard his house elf appear with a pop into his bed chambers.

“Master Malfoy, this letter just came for you.” The elf said quietly as he stretched out his arm to hand Draco a sealed envelope.

Draco would have told his elf off for appearing in his chambers in the middle of the night but decided against it when he saw the scrawl of Blaise’s messy handwriting on the envelope.

It was two in the morning and a rather odd time for Blaise to be sending him a letter.

Assuming that it must be something urgent, Draco quickly ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter.

Draco,

I write this with a heavy heart and I write this with nothing for company except a bottle of bourbon.

Daphne left me this morning.

The wedding is off and it is all my fault.

To be honest, It did feel like things were going too fast and we were jumping to life altering decisions without taking the time to think and contemplate.

After thinking all day, I have decided to get married after all.

Your mother has been rather kind and offered to set me up with a girl that is supposedly “perfect for me.” Although I definitely trust her judgement, It would be great if you could “assist” Narcissa in her search. You are my best friend after all.

B.Z.

By the time Draco was done reading Blaise’s letter, the girl sleeping next to him had started to toss and turn in her sleep.

~~~

When his mum flooed into his residence the next morning, Draco’s company for the night, who was named Sylvia by the way, was just on her way out.

Sylvia was rather laid back and was looking for nothing other than a rebound. Draco had offered her tea but she’d politely declined stating that she had brunch planned with her friends anyway.

“And who is this charming young lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked.

“She’s Sylvia and Sylvia was just on her way out.” Draco said in a clipped voice before literally shoving an annoyed looking Sylvia into the fireplace.

“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Malfoy.” Sylvia said in a calm and polite voice, with floo powder in her hands. “See you around Draco.”

“And I thought, you were finally serious for once.” Narcissa sighed before sinking down into one of the many chairs Draco had in his living room.

Draco wanted to say something sarcastic in response but he bit his tongue and held it all back. There were more pressing matters at hand that required his attention. Like helping his mum find an appropriate match for Blaise who has so casually placed such a huge responsibility on his shoulders.

The responsibility required him to go on multiple, rather tiresome “dates” set up by his mother.

The first girl he met mistook him for Blaise.

The second girl he met confessed that she was being coaxed into the meeting by her overbearing parents and had a secret Muggle boyfriend that she loved with her whole heart.

The third girl he met was one of Blaise’s ex girlfriends.

The fourth girl turned out to be one of Draco’s own one night stands that had ended on a sour note.

It was safe to say that Draco returned to his mother that night with his shirt stained burgundy from the wine she’d poured over his head. He deserved it though.

Narcissa even agreed that he’d deserved it because she broke into a chuckle when her son walked into the Malfoy Manor with drops of wine falling from his blond hair.

“Well this is a disaster.” Draco muttered to his mother who gave him an accomplished looking smile in return.

“This was a Disaster.” She quipped, before leaning towards the coffee table to pour herself some more tea. “Luckily, I’ve already found someone I deem to be a suitable partner for Blaise.”

“You have?”

“I have. I too have been pulling some reins and meeting people personally for Blaise. He is like a son to me after all.”

“Looks like I got splashed with a vintage red for no apparent reason then.” Draco muttered before using his wand to summon a clean cotton shirt.

Narcissa simply shook her head at her son and stood up from her chair. “I’ve actually invited her for tea today so that you’d be able to meet her as well. Why don’t you fix your hair and put on a clean shirt before she gets here hm?”

Draco knew there was no point in arguing with his mother.

When Narcissa Malfoy wanted things done, she’d sure as hell go ahead and get them done. A true Slytherin she was.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used a cleaning charm on his hair. He would have preferred to shower but he didn’t really have the time to dilly-dally around.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He heard a voice say, just as he was about to put on his clean shirt.

It was a familiar voice and it raised prickling goosebumps all over his exposed flesh.

The goosebumps were a natural reaction to hearing a voice he’d replayed over and over in his head every single night for the last four months.

In front of him stood Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh. Very much real and not a ghost of his imagination, clad in a blush coloured midi dress with a sweetheart neckline.

He opened his mouth to answer but his mother beat him to it.

“Welcome to our home. Sit down, have some tea with us.” Narcissa said in her best hostess voice and all Draco could do was force his hanging jaw shut.

~~~~~~

The next few hours felt like the longest yet shortest few hours of his life.

He was still processing the fact that he had in fact seen the girl, the ghost, the memory right in front of his eyes, wearing a dress that made her look like a scene in a vintage film.

His palms were sweaty, his head was reeling, his throat was as dry as the Sahara and he could barely pay any attention to a word his mother was saying.

“Draco?” Narcissa cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Draco dear, are you listening?”

“Yes mother.” He replied curtly before taking a sip of his tea in a desperate attempt to soothe his throat.

After what seemed like another torturous hour of tea and polite conversation, you thanked Narcissa for having you and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before taking the floo network.

“The Y/l/n family has been a friend to our family for years.” Narcissa commented. “I think Blaise would be rather fond of y/n. What do you think, Draco?”

He wanted to tell his mother about the time he spent with you four months ago.

He wanted to tell her that he was ready for a serious relationship if it was with you.

He never really cared for the colour pink but it suddenly felt like a rather nice colour.

You were witty, clever, sincere and extremely gorgeous. Of course Blaise would like you. He’d be a fool not to.

After taking a few more seconds to carefully contemplate the situation at hand, Draco finally opened his mouth.

“Yes, I think Blaise would like Y/n.”

Narcissa looked at him with a satisfied smile and the weight of a fully grown giant landed on Draco’s shoulder.

Maybe you weren't Blaise’s cup of tea.

Maybe he’ll get back together with Daphne. Yeah, that would be perfect.

But what if he didn’t?

Could Draco live his whole life knowing that he was absolutely smitten with his Best Friend’s soon to be Fiancée?

~~~

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x-chubby-reader · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, how about hcs Ushijima,Terushima, Bokuto and Kuroo getting jealous when their chubby s/o being hitting on right before their eyes 🥴 what would they do? Might as well do nsfw a lil' bit? 🥺

Thank you! I love your works ❤🥰

Jealous Haikyuu Boys + !NSFW!

Ushijima, Terushima, Bokuto, and Kurro x Plus size reader

A/N - Hope I brought this to justice. I loved this idea a lot but I think they might have made them a little toxic- Also sorry for this being very overdue with writing, but as most of you know my motivation for lots of thing is shit. Also Thanks to @livieeee for basically helping to edit and give ideas for this. I also may add to the other characters NSFW as I accidentally gave Bokuto the most detailed part

Lowercase intended

Not proof read

NSFW included

Cursing

The Characters are all aged up for this Headcannon

Ushijima

we are all very aware about how blunt he is with things

not one to bottle things up

if he doesn't like something, he will voice his opinion

ushijimas blunt ass will sat whatever he wants if he deems that its true

doesn't everyone want to know the truth about things?

he also isn’t one to be easily jealous over things too

his confident ass knows that he’s got you in the long run anyways

he has complete trust in you, your his rock

ushi knows that you wouldn’t go off to flirt with some douche just for the fun of it

the first time that he had ever found himself jealous was when you had dragged him out to your friends birthday party in college

he wouldn’t of even gone if you hadn't forced him out to be social and to make some friends with people his own age and should get out of the house for something other than practicing with the volleyball team he was on

since the party had been for your friend finally becoming of legal drinking age, of course there had been alcohol

oh i wonder how this liquid luck could get you into a predicament?

you had needed to go to the bathroom, so you gave your boyfriend a little wave before leaving

it should of only taken you about five minutes, and ushi knew that

so when you took over twenty he decided to go looking for you

while he was searching for your thicker frame, you had been quite preocupied with something else

there was this guy, completely drunk off of his ass, who wouldn’t leave you along

“are you lightning? because your my mc-queen”

just really icky and shitty pick up lines

homeboy was so touchy too omfg like back up ass hat

you hadn't even noticed the amount of time that had passed until you felt a strong hand on your shoulder

boy did that make you jump

and he looked pissed

~Nsfw~

homeboy really said posessive~

ushi literally ripped you away into the bathroom as you had been stuck in the hallways for god knows how long

for once his touch wasn’t gentle with you, it was more rough and less caring

he’s so rough with you right now oml

to make the story short, you won’t be walking easily later

he wants to make you yell out, to show everyone in the premis know that you are his

“how about you let everyone know who you belong to, sweetheart~”

his buff ass literally is holding you up, just fucking railing into you

only stops when he deems that you are done

he even apologizes if he hurt you too badly

cleans the both of you up with one of the guest towels hanging, before walking you ever so gently out to grab a cab and make your way home

Terushima

while the two of you had been out shopping for god know what, you happened to spot an old friend

he was ole of those guy friends that were overly touchy, but you never had really minded it since he was just being nice

your friend had been very high energy and affectionate, but they always meant well

so your boyfriend, terushima, had just smacked a smile on his face and acted as friendly as could be

But he was jealous of all the attention you were giving him

hey you couldn’t help it, you haven’t seen the guy in years

hello? teru is your boyfriend, not this guy!

the look on his face when you exchanged numbers to meet up later

you would of thought that you had just shot his puppy dear lord

he was so god damn sad

“he’s totally trying to get into your pants y/n!”

“no he isn’t teru, he’s just being nice”

“y/n, no-”

your so oblivious to it

terushima has two levels jealously

he goes from pout-y little kid to complete asshole in a matter of seconds

homeboy is black and white with his personality, there is no gray area with him

even though he isn’t one to keep quiet about something he doesn't like, he did it anyways for your sake

though he glared holes into him

eventually when he had left ho boy did terushima give you an earful

you heard even more when he found about how you made plans with before mentioned friend to have dinner

it was just so the two of you could catch up after the many years that you haddn’t seen each other

“its just dinner”

“y/n its like he’s trying to date you

“can you chill out?”

“no! what? are you dating him now???”

okay he can be a little high strung sometimes, but its something you can tolerate

~NSFW~

remember how you had given him your phone number?

yeah, that may be important

while you had been getting ready for your little ‘dinner date’ with your friend, teru had still been glaring at the back of your head

you could see his annoyed look from the mirror, but you payed him no mind

hey, he would get over it sooner or later

your phone decides to start ringing, and its the guy

teru looks at it, then at you, then back at the phone

he hits answer before handing the phone to you

you decide to start talking, everything is in a friendly tone

and then he decides to play around a bit

a little nip here and there, nothing more nothing less

just to see what his little doll face can handle

then soon he escalates it more and more

soon lurking hands become groping and nips became hickeys

though you had to pretend that everything was hunky dory on your side of the phone

homeboy on the other line didn’t even think anything of it

“hey are you okay?” he had asked once when you particularly couldn’t handle his stimulation

“y-yeah i’m great right now...”

his hand would slip and dip into places that you had forgotten about until now

just the smooth and slick friction would bring heat to your face, though

that’s when teru had taken the phone back

“screw off your asshat, never call her again!”

and he never did, even if you say him in public, he would walk the other direction

Bokuto

the two of you had just been out window shopping and peaking into stores on a saturday

when a store employee had started talking about a popular television show that had aired yesterday, you hadn't thought anything of it

in your mind it would of been rude to ignore them completely,

what if they were just having a bad day and you little small talk and brightened it just a little?

you didn’t want to have something like that on your consensus

bo had been standing beside you the entire time, and you hadn’t even noticed the way he had stiffened and almost seemed to puff up, like an owl

there had been one person who did notice bokuto’s uneasiness

baby boy had thought that the two of you had been flirting when he walked by

omg he looked so sad

he went from being all perky and happy to looking like a deflated balloon

it was pretty pathetic

sooner or later the worker had felt so awkaward that he left, that’s when you had noticed his discomfort

he had waved if off until the two of you had gotten home, then you finally cornered him and asked

“whats wrong?”

he just rolled his eyes to himself, “you should know!”

yeah just the buffering circle above your head for that one

you really had no idea

“i seriously don’t bo...”

“yes you do, in the store that worker was totally flirting with you!” he had finally spoke out

oh...

that had made sense you guessed

even though you had apologized to him, he had still been down, even needy

~NSFW~

bo had just been clinging on you for the past hour

if your standing, he’s right behind you, just looming

he became a shadow or a lost puppy, following you everywhere

his arms always found their way to your generous waist, holding onto you as if you would be blown away if a gust of wind decided to make its way though your home

as you had tried to walk down the short hallway that connected your bedroom to the living room, bokuto had stopped the both of you

he looked down to you before grabbing your wrist

bokuto half dragged and half lead you to the shared room you both shared since you moved in together

he had pushed you, not carefully may I add, onto the futon bed

koutarou soon climbed on top of your plush frame, his face lightly dusted in a red hue

one of his hands wandered down towards the plush button that resided between your thick thighs

the other had cradled the back of your head, pulling you back lightly so he could have more access to your neck and collarbones

bokuto lightly kissed your skin, it didn’t matter if imperfections or not

now this would have been more of a sweet moment if you hadn’t noticed the almost mocking circles you felt at your core

“am i good enough for you now baby owl?”

you would of answered him if you were able to form words, but the amount of stimulation that he was able to give you simply from the tips of his fingers was astonishing

damn boy he got magic hands

you had opened your mouth but no words came out

that had made the two toned haired boy let out a laugh

the only thing that you thought to do was to wrap your arms around his broad back

“speechless, huh” he had taunted you, a smirk on his face

he just kept up his happy little circles, the stimulation bringing a warm, almost butterfly like feeling to your abdomen

it was if he filled an empty part of you, and you needed him to survive

the tightness in your core had started to bubble, feeling as if you were going to top off the edge and boil over

your former speachless self was soon a babbling mess, telling bo how much you did need him

and even after you had reached and passed your high, he hadn't stopped, he loved the way your words flowed from your mouth in light, breathless pleas

oh he wasn’t even done

play nice you two

Kuroo

out of the two of you, kuroo had always been the more jealous one

baby boy is passive aggressive about it too

he doesn't do the keeping it to himself kind of bullshit

just completely straight to the point

he dosent often become jealous either

kuroo trusts that you wont get flirty or ‘advance’ on anyone else, because you have him for that

why would you need anyone else when he’s right there?

he has the confidence that all of us are jealous of

you and i know that this boy gives little insults to almost everyone

just in a joking and playful way, because that’s just how he communicates to people

but if someone decides to push it

ho boy

mr. rooster man slowly gets more and more passive aggressive

literally they turn into thinly veiled threats

you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears

so imagine his reaction when the waiter at a restaurant had decided to get a little too cozy with interacting with you

kuroo had been sitting right across from you, a pissed off look slapped over his face

who was this asshole and why the fuck was he going after his little kitten?

he had kept his mouth shut but raised an eyebrow at your plush form

it was as if he was asking if you were going to let this guy keep his shitty advances up

you just thought he was being friendly, but according to kuroo he wasn’t

when he had figured that you weren't going to stop him, he spoke up

“lay off dickwad” his voice had been laced with the utmost hate, you had never heard him ever use that tone before

with that, he had grabbed you by the arm before leaving, not paying for the two glasses

~NSFW~

the two of you had gone home in his car

no words had been exchanged between kuroo or you

“you were so into that, weren't you y/n” the bed-head boy had muttered to you, almost in a mocking way

you couldn’t think of a reason on why he was acting like that, so you had just kept your mouth shut until he would drop you off at your apartment

his hand that usually resided on your plush thigh while he was driving was currently white knuckled on the the steering wheel

even though he was looking at the road, he looked completely pissed

no plea for him to talk to you would make him speak up, it was as if he was stuck in thought

even when he had dropped you off at your flat, he seemed to still loom over you

when you took out your keys, he took them from your hand and opened the door himself as if you were suddenly incompetent of doing anything for yourself

“need someone to do everything for you huh? just too dumb in the brain to do anything...” kuroo had sneered to himself

“okay what the fuck is your problem you asshole?” you had finally spoken up, really what was this jerks deal with you?

homeboy had glared at you before pinning you against the wall in your own home as if he owned the place, “oh so now you talk, you were so fine with that guy in the restaurant huh? completely preoccupied with him to forget that i was there...”

suddenly everything is making sense right now, the puzzel pieces are fitting together

homeboy was jealous and you had no idea, you just though he was being pissy for no reason

he just sighed, putting his head in the crook of your neck, “idiot...”

kuroo had finally turned his head to look up to you, a slightly sad look on his face

oh you felt like complete shit, homeboy looked so down that your heart hurt

you leaned your head slightly down so you could give the top of his head a lil kiss kiss

homeboy almost seemed to purr from the affection

he slung his arms over your shoulders, it was as if he was leading you into the minimal living room that you had

the two of somehow ended up on the crappy couch you had, him on top humming happily down below at you

sandwiched happily together

“i’m still disappointed in you...” he muttered, looking down at you

“oh bite me” though you paused before thinking, “how about i make it up to you?”

kuroo had smirked, “and how are you going to do that?” he questioned you

it was as if you had suddenly forgotten how to speak, a burning heat spreading from your cheeps to the bridge of your nose

lets just say that you did not expect that answer from him in the slightest-

his slender hand ran up the side of your torso, as if he was memoriizing the peaks and valleys of your figure

“i’m the only one who can make you feel like this,” kuroo had muttered cockily, staring into your eyes

he had no shame making comments like these, why should he?

his fingers snuck under the elastic material of the underthings you had currently been wearing, teasingly testing the waters and rubbing fether-like circles over your sensitive bits that were located on your chest

“are you ready?”

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