#really hope we get a shot of them stood next to each other at some point. for science
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politedemon · 9 months ago
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the-avengers-not-the-nazis · 6 months ago
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It’s scented… right?
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Summary: The boys help shop for all you feminine products while you are away
Word count: 0.6k
A/n: I really just needed to write, so, please injoy :)
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The buggy’s front wheel spun in quick circles, the squeaking irritating Dean the deeper into the store he went. Sam had two hands on the handle bar, leading them down various isles as he grabbed what was on the grocery list. 
“Did you get the milk?” He asked, glancing at his brother as he placed a bag of chips into the buggy. 
“No.”
“Why not? We were just at the dairy isle.” 
Dean shrugged his shoulders eyes glazing across the chips. “I thought you grabbed it.”
A huff left Sam’s lips. “Yes, because I’d grab the milk after I told you to do it.”
“I’ll get it later, ok.” Dean told him, snatching the grocery list from his brothers hands. “What do we need to grab next?”
“Tampons and a couple pads.” Sam answered, having memorized the list already. 
“Tampons and pads? I thought she had that.”
“No, Dean.” Sam muttered leading him and his brother to the feminine isle. “If she had it we wouldn’t need to get more.”
Cas made his way towards the brothers a case of beer in hand as he placed it into the cart. “All they had was light beer, so I hope that’s alright.” He told them, trailing next to the buggy. 
“That’s fine, Cas.” Sam told the angel. 
“Yeah, for you.” Dean mumbled, shooting a small glare at the alcohol. 
Taking another turn, the three wandered down the isle stacked full of female products. Each stoping beside one another as they took in all of the many items that filled the shelves. 
You’d asked Sam specifically to grab your feminine items, seeing as he’s the only one who’d lived with a woman before. It would have been a whole lot easier than asking Dean or Cas to do it. 
“So,” Dean began arms crossing over one another as he stood before the various pads and tampons. “What does she need? Yellow? Green? Purple?”
Sam glanced up from the list to look at his brother. “What are you talking about? Why are you naming colors?”
He nodded towards a tampon box. “They all have different colors, Sam, kinda like fruits.”
Cas wondered over to Deans side, his eyebrows furrowing. “These things have taste?” He asked, picking up a box to look at it more closely. 
“No.”
“Yes.”
Sam shot a glare at his older brother. “What?” Dean asked.
“Why would it be flavored?” He asked trying to reason with the man. 
Dean shrugged his shoulders, taking the box back from Cas and placing it back in the shelf. “Some guys like that kind of stuff, Sam.”
Sam scrunched his nose in disgust. “That’s disgusting.”
“But it’s not flavored, Cas,” Dean began, turning towards the angel. “Because it’s scented.”
“Scented?” 
“Dear god.” Sam mumbled to himself, running a hand across his face. 
Dean nodded, gesturing to the rows of boxes. “Of course they’re scented. Because blood has smell, and so girls have to cover it up with a better smell.” He snapped his fingers, an example coming to mind. “Like perfume.”
Cas let out a small hum, his attention returning back to the products. Dean glanced over at his brother, his voice dropping down to a whisper. “It’s scented… right?”
Sam shook his head. 
A small ‘oh’ fell from the older man’s lips, face ever so slightly heating up on how wrong he truly was. Facing the shelves one last time Dean had begun to pluck and pull a good many boxes from their previous spots. “We’ll just get one of everything,” he told the others, placing the items into the cart. “Better safe than sorry.”
A sigh fell from Sam’s lips as he watched both Dean and Cas place multiple box’s into the buggy, before wandering away to the desserts isle. Leaving the poor man with the over loaded cart full of felmine products. 
“I’ll handle it, y/n,” he mumbled to himself, trailing after his brother and angelic friend. “I know what to get you, trust me.” Sam leaned his upper body against the handle bar, glancing over all the items that they’d gathered. “We won’t need to get more for another year or so now.”
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nhlclover · 1 month ago
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AFTERGLOW RYAN LEONARD
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pairing: fem!reader x ryan leonard
summary: a misunderstanding drives you to a island of isolation, making you question yours and ryan's relationship.
warnings: mentions of cheating/unfaithfulness, self-isolation, crying
wc: 2.34k
notes: based on 'afterglow' by taylor swift. i love me some angst with a happy ending😋
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You hadn’t meant to see it. That’s what you told yourself over and over again. It wasn’t snooping. 
His phone had lit up beside you on the couch while Ryan was in the kitchen getting drinks. It was instinct, really — just a glance at the sudden brightness in your peripheral vision. But your eyes betrayed you, catching enough of the notification to make your chest tighten.
Brooke Last night was fun! Let’s do it again soon :)
The name hung in your mind, unfamiliar and somehow venomous. Brooke. Not a classmate he’d mentioned, not one of the guys’s girlfriends. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself that Ryan was the most solid, trustworthy man you’d ever known, but curiosity — or was it paranoia? — itched beneath your skin.
You quickly stood, frantically gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. You called out to Ryan, telling him you weren’t feeling well and you were going to head back to your dorm. He’d rushed out of the kitchen, catching you just as you were shoving your feet in your boots. 
“A-are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine, just need some rest,” you reassured him, hoping he’d buy your flimsy excuse. The door was open and shut, with you on the other side before Ryan could ask another question. 
The spiral began as soon as you left his apartment. Every glance at your phone felt like a reminder of what you hadn’t asked, hadn’t confronted. You replayed every moment of your relationship in your mind, searching for signs you might have missed. Had he seemed distant? Had he started texting more? Was he pulling away from you?
It wasn’t deliberate at first — not entirely. You told yourself you just needed time to think, to calm down, to process. But each day stretched into the next, the unanswered texts piling up. Hey, is something wrong? turned into Did I do something? and finally Can we please talk? Your heart broke a little more with every message you ignored.
You stopped going to his games, too — a first since you’d started dating. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in the stands, watching him skate across the ice, wondering if Brooke was sitting somewhere else in the crowd. The thought of it all felt insurmountable. So you stayed home, your own guilt a quiet, gnawing threat.
Ryan’s friends noticed. Of course they did. You’d all become close since you and Ryan started dating, and the change in your behaviours and your absence from games was glaring. Practices were off — Ryan was missing passes, his shots lacked precision, and his usual easy laughter in the locker room was conspicuously absent.
Gabe had always been the observant one, the kind of guy who noticed when something was off long before anyone else caught on. So it didn’t surprise you when he showed up at the library one afternoon, a concerned look etched into his usually easygoing face.
He slid into the seat across from you, ignoring the pile of books and papers scattered in front of you. You tried to put on a smile, but it felt weak, forced.
“How’s it going?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m fine,” you replied, the words coming out automatically. You were fine. You just needed to figure things out, that’s all. You forced yourself to focus on the open textbook in front of you, but Gabe wasn’t buying it.
Gabe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I know that’s not true,” he said bluntly. “And before you say anything, I’m not here to grill you or get in the middle of anything. But Ryan’s a mess.”
That got your attention. You looked up, heart thudding uncomfortably in your chest. “What do you mean?”
“He’s barely talking to anyone. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. And on the ice?” Gabe shook his head. “He’s not Ryan. He’s off—like, really off. It’s like his head’s not in the game at all.”
Guilt twisted in your stomach, sharp and unrelenting. “I didn’t mean for—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Gabe said. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s none of my business. But I do know Ryan’s not the kind of guy who lets just anything mess him up like this. He cares about you. A lot.”
You finally let out a shaky breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I found a message on his phone. From someone named Brooke.”
Gabe’s expression morphed into confusion. “Brooke?” he repeated, frowning. “Who the hell is that?”
You shook your head, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard him mention her. And the message... it felt... off. Like something was going on that I didn’t know about.”
Gabe’s brow furrowed as he processed your words. “But Ryan? I can’t see him doing that to you. He’s... he’s not like that. Trust me.”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” you whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I can’t just ignore it, Gabe.”
Gabe sat back, tapping his fingers on the table as he thought. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, but you need to talk to him. Maybe there’s a reason for all this. Maybe there’s something you don’t know. But shutting him out isn’t going to help either of you.”
You felt torn. You wanted to believe Gabe, to believe in Ryan and the love you shared. But part of you was terrified of confronting him, of facing the possibility that your fears were real.
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Gabe studied you for a long moment before leaning forward again, his voice steady but insistent. “You can. You’re stronger than you think, and this — whatever it is — it’s eating both of you alive. Friendsgiving is at my place, Wednesday night. Ryan’s going to be there, and so are you. No excuses.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Gabe raised a hand to stop you. “I’m serious. You don’t even have to talk to him there if you’re not ready. But seeing each other in person? That’s the first step. Take it.”
The next evening, you found yourself hesitating on the porch of Gabe’s house, the soft hum of laughter and conversation drifting out through the windows. Your stomach churned with nerves as you clutched the bottles of wine you brought, the glass cool and grounding against your fingers. You hadn’t seen Ryan in weeks. You didn’t even know how to begin to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.
Before you could turn and flee, Gabe opened the door, grinning like he’d been waiting for you. “There she is! Get in here, we’re just getting started.”
The warmth of the house wrapped around you as you stepped inside, your heart pounding. The inside was warm and chaotic in the way only Friendsgiving could be — mismatched chairs pulled around a too-small table, dishes precariously balanced in a potluck array, laughter and voices overlapping in the candlelight.
You caught sight of Ryan the moment you stepped through the door, standing near the kitchen with a beer in hand. His eyes met yours briefly, widening in surprise. He looked tired — pale, shadows under his eyes, and his usual easy confidence replaced by something far more hesitant. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jacob intercepted him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and pulling him into a conversation.
Throughout dinner, you found yourself hyper-aware of Ryan’s presence at the opposite end of the table. Occasionally, your eyes would meet, but neither of you spoke. He seemed quieter than usual, laughing at jokes that didn’t quite reach his eyes and pushing food around his plate more than eating it.
After dinner, you ushered everyone into the living room, volunteering to handle the dishes. Your offer was driven partly by a desire to help and partly by a need for a quiet moment to collect your thoughts. A few protested, but you insisted, retreating to the kitchen before anyone could argue further. The rhythmic sound of running water and clinking plates was soothing, a brief respite from the tension.
You didn’t hear Ryan approach at first. It wasn’t until his voice, quiet and hesitant, broke the silence that you turned.
“Need a hand?” Ryan’s voice was quiet, almost tentative.
You glanced over your shoulder. He was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking at you like he was afraid you might tell him to leave. After a beat, you nodded. “Sure.”
Ryan stepped closer, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt and taking his place beside you at the sink. For a while, neither of you spoke, the clink of dishes and the rush of water filling the silence. You stole glances at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed weighed down.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I don’t know what I did, but… whatever it is, I’m sorry.” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I should know what I did wrong, but I’ve wracked my brain and I just don’t know what I did. But please tell me… let me fix whatever I did.”
You gripped the dishcloth tightly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. Ryan had always been the kind of person to face things head-on, but hearing the crack in his voice—seeing the way his shoulders slumped like he’d been carrying the world—broke something inside you.
“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—God, I’ve been such a mess, Ryan. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was push you away.”
Ryan paused, setting the plate he was drying onto the counter. His eyes searched your face, a mix of confusion and hurt. “Protecting yourself from what?”
You swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back now. “I saw a message. On your phone. From someone named Brooke. It said, ‘Last night was fun. Let’s do it again soon.’ And I — I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know who she was or what it meant, and instead of asking you, I let it get to me.”
Confusion flickered across his face, then realization. “Brooke?” he repeated. “That’s — God, that’s nothing. She’s my mom’s friend’s daughter. She just started at Boston College, and my mom asked me to show her around. That’s all it was, I swear.”
His words came out in a rush, like he needed you to understand, like he needed to erase every doubt that had built up in your mind. “We grabbed coffee, and I showed her some places on campus. That’s it. I didn’t think it was a big deal, so I didn’t mention it. I never meant for it to come across as something… more.”
Your throat tightened as his explanation sank in. “So… you’re not—”
“No,” Ryan said firmly, stepping closer. “I’m not cheating on you. I would never, ever do that to you.”
The weight you’d been carrying for weeks suddenly felt unbearable, tears springing to your eyes before you could stop them. “Ryan, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. God, I’m so fucking stupid. I got inside my own head and I-I hurt you.”
“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. His hands found yours, damp from the soapy water. “You didn’t ruin anything. Yeah, it hurt, but I get it. I just wish you’d come to me instead of dealing with it on your own.”
“I was scared,” you admitted, tears spilling over. “Scared of losing you, scared of finding out I wasn’t enough.”
Ryan’s grip on your hands tightened, his thumbs brushing gently over your knuckles. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable softness in it, a warmth that wrapped around your heart. “You are enough,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been enough. You’re all I want. Nothing — no one — could ever change that.”
Tears streamed freely down your face now, but Ryan didn’t seem to care. He released one of your hands and reached up to gently wipe the tears away with his thumb. “I was so stupid,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I should have trusted you. I should have talked to you instead of running away.”
Ryan shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Hey, we all mess up. Relationships aren’t perfect. But we don’t have to let this break us. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”
You looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest ache. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know us,” he said simply. “I know what we have. And I know we can get through this, as long as we’re honest with each other. No more shutting each other out. Deal?”
You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Deal.”
Ryan let out a soft sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. “You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “When you pulled away like that, I thought… I thought I was losing you. And that terrified me.”
The idea that you’d made him feel even a fraction of the fear and doubt you’d been drowning in made your heartache. “You’ll never lose me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears. “Not if I can help it. I’m sorry for putting you through this, for doubting you when you’ve never given me a reason to.”
Ryan smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’re okay,” he murmured against your skin. “We’ll be okay.”
For the first time in weeks, the tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by the comforting warmth of Ryan’s presence.
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martinmuhl · 6 months ago
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⋆✧˚ ༘ rivals? (part 2)
pair: kate martin x reader
warnings: SMUT !! minors DNI!
summary: you and kate had been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough
authors note: the long awaited part 2! i’ve never written smut before so i did my best lol don’t be too hard on me!! hope you enjoy :)
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
a few weeks later, kate martin was standing in front of you during warmups. you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. you knew that no matter how this game turned out, everything would change between the two of you. at first you weren’t sure if she had even remembered or cared about what had happened in the iowa locker room weeks prior. your confusion quickly faded though when in the first quarter, she looked at you and said, “good luck y/n, hope you saved some of that hatred for me tonight.”
the game ran smoothly, you guarding her all night and making quick comments to each other. your team ended up beating iowa by 3 points and you were wondering if kate would even be in the mood to see you now. taking off your shoes and quickly changing out of your jersey, you hear the door to your own locker room open and close. you turned around, seeing that you were the only one in the locker room until kate steps right in front of you.
“good game out there.” was all she said.
“thanks… uh you too.” you stuttered, suddenly feeling really nervous with all of her attention on you. you couldn’t even look at her when suddenly you feel her finger tips on your chin, pushing your head up to look at her.
“don’t think i forgot about what i said. i will handle you tonight… if you still want that of course.” she said, stepping closer to you. all you could do was nod, a vibrant blush spreading through your cheeks.
“don’t get all shy on me now, y/n. meet me at my hotel room in an hour, i’ll kick caitlin out. i’ll text you the address.” she says with a smirk, stepping back and exiting the locker room. you felt a pit of heat in your stomach thinking about what would happen in an hour. one thing you knew for sure though was that you weren’t this shy girl who was going to let kate off easy, you were going to make her handle you as hard as that was.
exactly an hour later, with the address kate texted you, you stood outside of her hotel room. right as you were about to knock, the door swung open revealing caitlin clark. she wore a smug smile as she looked at you. “hey y/n, what a surprise. take it easy on my girl, we still need her for the rest of the season.” she joked as she headed down the hall. laughing, you turned and saw kate in the doorway now, beckoning you to come in.
“i was nervous you wouldn’t show up.” she said, scratching the back of her neck.
“guess i just wanted to see if you could handle me as well as you say you can.” you shrugged, take a seat on the bed.
“you really want to do this with me? because after this everything will change and we both know that.” she asked, walking towards you. she now stood in between your legs, looking down at all.
“i want this more than you know.” you said, resting your hands on the back of her legs. on cue, she leaned down and kissed you. this was everything you had ever wanted, even if you hadn’t always known it. god, was she a good kisser.
standing you up to meet her level, kate pushed you back on the bed, crawling on top of you. “just so you know, i still hate you.” you said, in between kisses. she laughed and started taking off your shirt, then hers. she couldn’t keep her hands off of you, running them up and down your waist. you couldn’t help but arch your back at her touch. as she trailed kisses down your stomach, you moaned knowing what was coming next. she slid your shorts off, then your underwear.
“if hating me gets you this wet, i dont want you to ever stop.” she said, looking up at you before finding your clit and latching on. your back shot off the bed as you whimpered out, “fuck you.” she chuckled at this, continuing to circle her tongue around your clit, before inserting a finger into you. you moaned feverishly and cried out that you were close. her speed becoming faster as she kept on thrusting into you, hitting the right spot over and over again.
“kate i can’t take it anymore,” you whimpered, tugging on her hair.
“yes, you fucking can and you will,” she said, pulling her mouth away from your clit, but continuing to pump her fingers in and out of you. you could feel tears forming as your legs began to shake. finally giving you permission to come, her lips found your clit again as you rode out of your orgasm. you were panting now as she pulled out of you and hovered over you, planting a soft kiss on your mouth.
kate began to gather up your clothes, as you sat up. “are you not going to let me return the favor?” you were hungry for her. she stopped and smirked at you.
“next time.” was all she said.
“so there will be a next time?” you asked, feeling a swell in your heart and stomach.
she climbed back on the bed with you, kissing you slowly with more passion than before. “do you still hate me?” kate asked, cocking her head. you smiled and nodded.
“then there will be as many next times as it takes until i fuck all that out of you.”
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its-avalon-08 · 5 months ago
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it all fell down (ln4)
part3
multipart story! part1 part2 next
✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader
summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?
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The party continued, the room filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of conversation. Anna and Liam were making their rounds, thanking guests and basking in the joy of their engagement. Lando and Y/N found themselves in the same group, surrounded by mutual friends who were conspicuously trying to get them to speak.
"So, Lando, tell everyone how you had a great race last week," George said, trying to break the ice as they all stood together.
"Yeah, it was a good one," Lando replied, his eyes flicking briefly to Y/N before looking away. "A lot of hard work paid off, all those endless hours and sim racing. I guess it was all worth it."
"Y/N, how's the business going? I saw your latest campaign. It's amazing!" Claire chimed in, trying to steer the conversation.
"Thanks Claire!," Y/N said, smiling politely. "The team has been incredible. We’re launching another project next month that I’m really excited about. You remember what I told you about when we were in school? The whole collaboration? It's finally coming to life!"
The tension was palpable, each word carefully chosen, each glance weighted with unspoken history. Their friends exchanged nervous glances, hoping for a breakthrough.
"Y/N, didn’t you go on a date last week?" George asked innocently, completely aware unaware of the brewing storm.
Y/N stiffened, her smile freezing slightly. "Yeah actually I did. It was a nice evening. He wasn't busy on his phone with calls all the time and.. yeah it felt good."
Lando's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t say anything, but the judgement was clear on his face. He turned to George, a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Must be nice to have so much free time to date around. Not everyone can afford such luxuries. Or have that much time to waste."
Y/N scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritation. Intentionally avoiding speaking to Lando, Y/N Addressed Clare, "You know Clare, some of us manage to balance our personal lives and careers. It's called multitasking."
"Multitasking, huh?" Lando said, still addressing George but clearly referring to Y/N. "Seems like some people are just good at juggling multiple things at once and not really excelling at anything in specific. Some of us like to be the best at what we do."
"Yes, some people are good at multitasking because they can handle the pressure," Y/N shot back, looking at Claire instead of Lando. "It's amazing what you can accomplish when you’re not distracted by racing around in circles."
The group fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Anna, sensing the brewing conflict, stepped in quickly. "Alright, alright, let's not turn this into a sparring match. It's a party, remember?"
As the night progressed, the tension between Lando and Y/N only grew more palpable. They found themselves once again in the same group, their friends trying desperately to keep the atmosphere light.
"So, Y/N," George started, attempting to steer the conversation to safer waters, "any exciting projects coming up that you can share with us?"
Y/N glanced briefly at Lando before replying. "Oh, plenty. We're working on something really innovative, but I can't reveal too much yet. Unlike some, we prefer to surprise people with our results, not just talk about them."
Lando's jaw tightened. "Yeah, surprises are really fucking great. Especially when they actually live up to the hype."
Y/N smirked, turning to Claire. "Well, some of us don’t need to hype everything we do. The results speak for themselves."
Lando’s eyes flashed with irritation and he directly addressed the woman he used to love. "Funny, I remember you being quite the hype queen back in the day. Always making a big deal out of the smallest things, could never get you to calm down."
Y/N’s smile was icy. "And I remember you being quite the show-off, needing constant validation. Guess some things never change."
George, sensing the escalating tension, tried to intervene. "So, Lando, any plans for the offseason? A vacation, maybe?"
Lando shrugged, keeping his eyes on Y/N. "Yeah, thinking about it. Might go somewhere quiet, away from all the noise and unnecessary drama."
Y/N crossed her arms, addressing Claire instead. "That sounds nice and boring. I always preferred places with a bit of life. Too much quiet can get boring. But then again, some people thrive in dull environments where it's all about them."
Lando raised an eyebrow. "Boring, huh? I’d say focusing on something meaningful is far from boring. But I guess when you’re always looking for your next distraction, it’s hard to understand."
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. "Meaningful? Like endlessly chasing after something you can never quite catch? That sounds quite bloody exhausting to me."
Lando leaned in slightly, his voice low and challenging. "Maybe it’s about the journey, not just the destination. But I guess you’d know all about giving up halfway, wouldn’t you?"
Y/N bristled, her temper flaring. "At least I know when something isn’t worth the effort. Sometimes walking away is the best decision."
George, desperate to diffuse the situation, stepped in. "Alright, enough of this. Stop making this about you."
Lando and Y/N fell silent, their gazes still locked in a silent battle of wills. The group around them exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to navigate the palpable tension.
As the night wore on, it became clear to everyone that the wounds between Lando and Y/N were far from healed. Their snarky comments and pointed jabs were a stark reminder of the unresolved feelings still lingering between them, making the night a volatile mix of celebration and unspoken conflict.
"Excuse me, I need some air," Y/N said, forcing a smile.
Y/N walked away, her heart pounding. The night had been difficult enough without Lando's snide remarks. She stepped out onto the terrace, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.
Back inside, Lando watched her go, his expression unreadable. He knew he had crossed a line, but the idea of Y/N moving on, dating someone else, had stirred something raw inside him. He turned back to the group, trying to ignore the feeling of regret gnawing at him.
"Anyone need a drink?" he asked, heading to the bar to escape the awkwardness.
Anna exchanged a look with Liam, her worry evident. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she murmured.
Liam nodded, watching Lando walk away. "They’ve got a lot of unresolved issues. Maybe tonight will help them start to deal with it."
The tension between Lando and Y/N was electric, an unspoken force that drew them together even as they tried to pull apart. Every glance, every word exchanged, carried the weight of their shared history—years of friendship, love, and heartbreak. Their chemistry crackled in the air, a potent mix of unresolved emotions and lingering attraction.
As the night drew to a close, they found themselves standing on opposite sides of the room, their eyes meeting across the distance. In that moment, the noise of the party faded away, leaving only the two of them locked in a silent, intense gaze. The space between them felt charged, filled with everything they had left unsaid.
Neither moved nor spoke, but the connection between them was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could ignore. It was clear to anyone watching that despite the bitterness and hurt, the bond between Lando and Y/N was far from broken. It was a reminder that some connections are too deep to sever, leaving an imprint that time and distance could never fully erase.
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taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164
comment to get added to taglist
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hearts4golbach · 4 months ago
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more johnnie guilbert x reader enemies to lovers smut but more time where they hate each other before anything happens between them PLEASEEEE i adore your writing
It's Harder Breathing Next to You.
pairing:
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
a/n:
Tara's sister au 👅!!
proofread
warnings:
fanfiction logic, 18+ smut, biting, reverse cowgirl, hairpulling, pet names (slut, whore, ma, mama), teasing, spanking, no protection (wrap it before you tap it)
word count:
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You hated going to see Jake. You didn't hate him. You hated his best friend. Johnnie had to have been the biggest dick you had ever met. You glared at Tara, giving her the deadliest look possible. "Do we really have to go over? Or, do I have to go over?" You clicked in the seat belt, sinking down into the passenger seat.
"Well, I don't want you rotting in your room all damn day." She sighed, pulling out of the driveway. "Just ignore Johnnie."
"It's hard to ignore him when he doesn't know how to shut his fucking mouth." Your profanity seemed more aggressive than usual, it always was when it came to Johnnie. You pushed away the thought of how soft his lips always looked.
"I don't know what to tell you." She shrugged, furrowing her eyebrows. "You can wait in the hot car if you want."
You let out a loud sigh, "No, I haven't seen Jake in a while."
"Okay, well, if you just gave Johnnie a shot, maybe you wouldn't find him as annoying." She glanced over before returning her eyes to the road. "He's a really great person, Y/n."
You crossed your arms, looking out of the window. "Whatever."
Johnnie plagued your mind for the rest of the ride there. It was a short ride, thankfully. You deeply considered what Tara said. Maybe he wasn't as annoying as you thought he was, but he really struck a nerve within you. You weren't completely sure if it was annoyance, but you didn't know what else to call it. Just the thought of him looking at you sent shivers down your spine. You hated those bright blue eyes. They reminded you of the ocean, and you dispised the ocean. But, god, were they beautiful.
You climbed out of the car, following Tara up to the front door. She opened it with her spare key and walked inside. It was cozy, per usual. The smell of musk and vanilla filled your nose. 'How could there be three guys in one house, and it smelled this nice?' You asked yourself. You wondered what Johnnies room smelled like.
Jake stood in the kitchen, basically hitting a Dress to Impress pose as he stood at the counter. He had a large coffee in his hand and his phone in the other. He looked up and smiled at the two of you. "My two favorite girls!" He smiled. You walked over and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "You need to come around more often. Get some sunlight." He teased.
You squinted up at him. Jake always kept all of the windows wide open, making the sun peer through nearly every crevice in the house. "Yeah, well, you guys stink, so.." You teased.
He rolled his eyes. "Well, your favorite person in the world is upstairs taking a shower, so you won't have to see him for a minute." Jake emphasized 'favorite person.'
As if it were a competition, you rolled your eyes in return. "Okay," you couldn't come up with a better response before you pulled away.
"We were thinking about Olive Garden for dinner. Does that work with you guys?" Jake looked down at his phone. "I can call and make reservations now."
You simply nodded as Tara responded with a yes. You pulled up a chair to the counter and sat across from Jake. Tara leaned next to you. You zoned out when Tara started ranting to Jake about her busy schedule for the next month. You wondered what Johnnie was thinking about. Did he even know you'd be at dinner with the four of them. Did anyone even want to tell him? A small part of you hoped his mood would change, and maybe you'd have a peaceful interaction with him. You hated wishful thinking. You hated a lot of things, and you felt like the root was Johnnie. That wasn't fair to him. You knew that. But, it seemed as if your downfall was after you met Johnnie. You never seemed to stop thinking about him no matter how hard you tried. You greatly disliked that fact. It was one you'd take to the grave if you had to.
Tara tapped your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. "What?" You cleared your throat, caught off guard.
"I said that you don't need to worry about paying anything. Me and Jake are splitting the bill." She repeated herself, a clear annoyance in her voice. "You okay?" 
"Yeah, fine." You flashed her an unsure smile. You rested your head in your hands.
You heard thudding coming from the stairs. Your head whipped around, knowing who it would be. Johnnie stood at the bottom of the stairs, in his usual skinny jeans and a 'The Cure' shirt littered with holes. You instinctively scrunched up your nose before looking the opposite direction.
He greeted Tara with a smile, not bothering to acknowledge you or Jake. "Did we pick a place to go eat?" He asked, sparing you a glance before returning his attention back to Jake.
His messy, wet hair made your heart skip a beat. "Uh, yeah." Jake spoke, briefly looking towards you. His eyebrows turned to at your expression before returning his attention towards Johnnie. "Olive Garden, like we said earlier."
You stood up, walking toward the cupboard. You reached up to grab a glass before you felt a gentle hand on your hip. You looked behind you to see Johnnie squeezing past you. His groin brushed your ass, making your eye twitch and butterflies erupt in your stomach. This wasn't the first time this type of interaction would happen, and you knew it definitely wouldn't be the last. Johnnie seemed to get a kick out of teasing you, and you found it unbearable. You didn't know he knew, but he did.
"Sorry," he muttered, quiet enough so that only you could hear.
You didn't respond, furrowing your eyebrows together as you filled up the glass with water. You took a long sip, hoping the cold drink would calm you down, to no avail. You shot Tara a look, seeing as her eyebrows were raised nearly to her hairline. She shot you a wink, which made you groan internally.
You were so flustered, you could barely think straight. You needed to talk to Carrington. That wasn't a weird thought for you, seeing as he was your best friend. "Where's Carrington?" you asked suddenly.
"He's in his room." Jake responded, gulping down the rest of his coffee. "He might be asleep. When he's awake, he's usually streaming."
You laughed, "I know." You walked towards the stairs, feeling a pair of eyeliner decorated eyes burn holed in the back of your head. you shuddered at the feeling, continuing your journey up the stairs.
You knocked a few times on Carringtons door before walking inside. He was cuddled up under the covers, also scrolling on his phone. "Hey," you sighed, taking a seat on his bed.
He stretched, letting out an exaggerated groan. He ended it with a high-pitched moan before greeting you. "Hey, you okay?"
"The usual," you implied. You had ranted to Carrington many times about Johnnie. Sometimes, you even woke him up in the middle of the night to whine to him about Johnnie.
Carrington knew what you never wanted to admit. After knowing him for so long, even before he was even associated with Jake and Johnnie, he knew you like the back of his hand. "Y/n," he said in a scolding tone. "Please, for the love of fuck just accept it. You like Johnnie and saying you hate him won't change that."
"Oh my god, I don't!" A twinge of pain shot through your heart. "Even if I did, which I don't, he hates me just as much."
He rolled his eyes, "So, what you're telling me is that the glances he sneaks and the small "casual" touches are hate? Get a grip, Y/n."
"You're actually the worst, you know that?" You let out a weak laugh, meeting Carringtons eyes. "Fuck you."
"I'm the best, and you need to accept it. It's gonna ruin you."
You didn't have the energy to argue, letting out a small 'I know' in response. You couldn't keep lying to yourself. You had always known you didn't hate Johnnie. You hated how much you craved him.
"Whatever, get ready to go to dinner. I'm starving." You attempted to end the conversation on a lighter note.
He groaned, pulling himself out of bed. "I'm serious, Y/n."
"Okay, okay. I get it." You huffed. "Get your ass dressed."
"Okay, fatso." He cackled at his own words.
You peeled yourself from your sitting position and made your way back downstairs. Whenever you made it down, Tara and Jake were still talking in the kitchen. Johnnie was nowhere to be seen.
Carrington met you downstairs a couple minutes later. He sat next to you on the couch, smacking your phone out of your hands so you'd pay attention to his words. "By the way, no one talks about someone they "hate" as much as you do." he added air quotes.
You huffed at his response. "Okay, and-" You stopped mid sentence as Johnnie walked into the living room.
"Don't let me interrupt, what were you saying?" Johnnie asked rhetorically. His hair was now teased and straightened as it always was. You couldn't help but stare before forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him.
"Shut up." You looked down at your feet, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
"Oh god." Carrington muttered before getting up off of the couch and walking back into the kitchen.
"Make me." He smirked, laying on the couch and resting his calfs on your knees.
You shoved his legs off of you, "I bet you'd like that."
"We're leaving!" Jake called into the living room, jingling his keys before walking out of the front door.
You practically ran out of the room, trying to get away from Johnnies gaze as fast as possible.
You climbed into the back seat of Jake's car, ending up sitting between Johnnie and Carringon. Tara took the front seat, as well as control of the music.
You looked the opposite way of Johnnie and stared out of Carringtons window instead. Johnnies hand brushed against your thigh, making your heart skip a beat.
The car ride seemed to last a century before you finally made it to Olive Garden. Whenever you stepped out of the car, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath. It was harder breathing next to Johnnie.
The whole group walked ahead while you stayed in the back, coincidentally walking next to Johnnie. "Your outfit is really fucking cute."
You whipped your head to look at him. "What?" You raised your voice a little louder than his.
"I said your outfit looks like shit." He grumbled, amused by your response.
You huffed and walked faster. You caught up with Tara and joined the conversation she was having with the other two guys in the group.
Johnnie caught up to you and walked behind you. You felt his eyes rake over your body, making your face flush. Shivers ran down your spine before you finally got seated at the table.
Johnnie sat across from you, while Tara and Carrington were on either side.
You looked up at Johnnie, who was already looking at you. His pupils were dilated as he stole glances at your lips. You grabbed a napkin and grabbed a certain pen that always seemed to be in your pocket. You scribbled 'do you have a staring problem?' on the napkin before sliding it over the table to Johnnie.
He smirked at the note before crumbling it up and putting it in his pocket. His foot rested against yours, hidden from the rest of the group. Your face heated up for what felt like the millionth time that night.
You realized Johnnie was always like this, always showing the smallest bit of interest affection in the smallest ways. You thought back to the time everyone had gone home except you and Tara. Jake was upstairs asleep while Tara was crashed out on the couch. Johnnie sat with you in the kitchen, keeping you silent company. He watched as you worked on an article for your job, only checking his phone once the whole time. His knee was rested against yours, and when you mentioned it, he made a sour rebuttle before going silent again. He had never moved his knee until you got up to go lay with Tara. Afterward, he made the trek back to his room without a word.
This thought made you glare up at him again, but he was looking at Jake as he spoke. You hated his stupid, sexy fucking face. His noticeable jawline and smudged eyeshadow made you weak in the knees.
The rest of the night went by in a blur of Johnnies lips, his gaze meeting your lips, his watercolor eyes burning into your own.
The whole group walked out of the restaurant, stomachs full and giggling at a joke Carrington had just cracked. From the outside looking in, it was a picture-perfect moment.
Johnnie was walking dangerously close to you. You could smell the mix of cologne and cigarette smoke on him. You weren't sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him. You truthfully wanted to do both.
You sat in the same spot, stuck between a never-ending giggling guy and the silent emo. His clothed thigh was rested against yours gently, keeping the physical contact he almost always had with you-- when he had the chance.
You walked into the house, respectively, exhausted from the long day you had.
"Are you gonna sleep on the couch with me?" Tara yawned as the curled up on the couch.
You sighed. "I guess so."
Everyone said their goodnight and went to their rooms. Tara fell asleep almost immediately while you stayed up and scrolled on your phone.
You were giggling at a Reddit story and didn't even realize Johnnie was leaning on the couch behind you. "What the fuck are you watching?"
You jumped at the sudden noise. "Oh, fuck you. Don't sneak up on me like that."
His hands slithered over the cushion and gripped your shoulders gently. "Come on."
"What? Why?" You looked back at him. "I'm perfectly fine right here."
"'m gonna give you a better place to sleep. I hate seeing you cramped up on this small ass couch." He gave your shoulders a squeeze.
"That's hilarious coming from you. Stop messing with me and go to bed for the love of everything holy." You roll your eyes and return your gaze back to Instagram.
"Don't make me change my mind." He replied in a stern tone. "I'm serious, come on."
You let out an exaggerated sigh. "Uhm, okay?" You peeled yourself off of the couch and followed Johnnie back to his room. "Someone's feeling a little too lonely."
"I'm being considerate. Use your brain." He spat as he began to walk back up the stairs.
You hummed in response, not far behind him. When you were in his room, he shut and locked the door.
"Why'd you lock it?" You asked with raised eyebrows. You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly extremely nervous as his gaze fell onto you.
"I always lock my door. Get a grip," he mumbled.
"Just makes me think you're trying to-"
"Shut up," he cut you off, clearly not interested in hearing the end of that sentence. He sat on the edge of his bed, looking up at you as you took your stance in front of him.
"Make me," you smirked. You really needed to come up with a better response to 'shut up.'
"Don't fucking test me." His voice was barely above a whisper.
You hummed once more, not knowing what to say as you looked down at him.
"Stop looking at me like that." Johnnie mumbled. His eyes raked over your body, which was barely visible in the dimly lit room.
"Like what?" Before you could think, you spoke your thoughts aloud. "Like I wanna do you?"
"Are you trying to turn me on right now?" You raised your eyebrows at Johnnies words. "Because it's working."
You scoffed, "Yeah, I'm sure." you figured his was joking. He had always made small, dirty comments in a 'joking' manner.
"Kiss me." he said, looking up at you with those tempting eyes that you could never get enough of.
You laughed, looking away as you felt your face heat up tenfold. "What?"
"Kiss me." he emphasized. He gripped your hips and pulled you closer.
His hand wrapped around your neck, not adding much pressure as he pulled you down to meet his lips. The kiss was desperate and messy. His hand moved from your neck to your waist. His fingers dug into the soft flesh as he pulled you down into his lap. You tangled your fingers in his raven colored hair as the kiss became needier by the second. You gave a slight tug on his hair, making him let out a soft grunt against your lips. His tongue swiped your lower lip, begging for entrance. You slightly parted your lips, allowing his tongue to lick inside of your mouth. He tasted like mint and nicotine-- a heavenly combination.
Johnnies hard, clothed member was pressed into you. Feeling him against you turned you on even further.
His hands slid up your shirt, snaking behind your back, and unclipped your bra. You grinded down against him, making you let out a small whimper against his soft, puffy lips.
"You're such a fucking slut, already so damn needy for my cock." He muttered against your lips, making quick work of your T-shirt.
His hand moved up to cup one of your breasts while the other toyed with your nipple. You let out a soft moan in agreement as your only thoughts were about Johnnie finally getting inside of your pants.
He removed his hands from your chest and began to unbutton your jeans. Your hands met the hem of his shirt, "Lemme take this off." You pleaded, your voice coming out as a whine.
"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, ma?" He teased, trailing his fingers along the inside of your waist band.
"Fuck, Johnnie." You muttered.
"You don't know what you do to me," his eyebrows were knitted together as he looked at you. His eyes were blown black as he looked at you like he was starving.
You helped him slip his shirt off before helping you out of your ungodly tight jeans. You were back in his lap in nothing but your lacy pair of wine red panties. He could've drooled at the sight of you in his lap. His lips attacked your neck, peppering it in hickeys.
"Everyone's gonna see how much of a little whore you are for me," he smirked against your neck. His hand slowly slipped inside of your panties and began to circle your clit. You bucked against his hand at the sudden contact. "Shit, you're so wet.."
"Bite me," you rebuttled sarcastically. He let out a low chuckle before gently digging his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder. You didn't expect him to take you seriously, but there was a lot happening that you never really saw coming.
He continued his pattern, biting and sucking at your collar bone as his fingers ran through your folds. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, letting out moans as he collected your slick on his fingers.
"You trying to let the whole house know how good I'm making you feel, baby?" Johnnie dipped his middle finger inside of you, making you yelp.
"N-no." You choked out, keeping your voice barely above a whisper.
"That's what I thought. Be a good little slut and stay quiet for me." He mumbled, placing a kiss on the side of your head. He lifted you up off of his lap and flipped you around so your back was against his chest.
His hand slipped back inside of your panties before he curled his long, slender finger inside of you. You bit down into your lip, moaning quietly in his ear as he pleased you. You tossed your head back onto his shoulder as his finger slowly thrusted inside of you.
Johnnie slipped another finger inside of you. You let out a louder moan before his hand slapped over your mouth. "I can't fucking stand you-- you think I can fuck some sense into you?" He mocked in a sultry tone. His question was more rhetorical than literal.
His fingers held a quick pace as the sounds of your pussy squelching filled the room. He curled his fingers to perfectly hit your g-spot, making your legs shake. You attempted to say something in response, which proved to be pointless. His hand was covering your mouth, after all.
As your walls spasmed around his fingers, he could tell you were close. "You close, mama?" He pressed a kiss into your temple. You nodded eagerly, causing him to remove his hand from inside of you. You whimpered at the loss of contact. "Take your panties off."
You acted quickly at the command. You stood in front of him and pulled off your panties at a teasingly slow pace. You heard his belt jingling and his pants hit the floor before you even got them off. He did the job for you, eagerly pulling your panties down around your ankles.
"Someone's eager," you comment. Johnnie laid a hard slap on your ass in response.
You jumped, letting out a soft yelp as a mix of pain and pleasure coarse through your veins. "Shut up," he barked, "you're the one who'd drop to your knees for me, isn't that right?"
Before you could argue back, he gripped your hips and pulled you back down onto his lap. He gently moved your hips, his hard cock grinding through your wet folds. He let out a soft groan at the proximity.
"You gonna be good and shut your fucking mouth?" his hands moved up your waist and cupped your tits. "Only good sluts get what they want, baby."
You let out a quiet moan as he pinched your pebbled nipples. "Yeah-- yes. I-I'll be good. For the love of God, please.."
"Please what, ma?" He whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe gently.
"oh my god, fuck me already." You accentuated, grinning down onto him harder.
Johnnie hummed in response, positioning you to where he wanted you. His dick slipped inside of you without warning, making you let out a loud moan. "Do you even know how to listen? Open." He instructed as he guided his fingers to your mouth.
You took his fingers into your mouth as you sank down onto his cock. You sucked harshly, gulping back the noises that threatened to fall from your lips.
"Good," Johnnie purred, "now move."
He interspersed kisses along your shoulder as you began to bounce on his cock. You bit down on his fingers gently as you stayed quiet, following Johnnies wishes. Your fingers dug into his bare thighs, desperate to hold onto something for stability.
"You look so good like this," he muttered against your skin. "Y'so fucking tight."
He bucked his hips up to meet yours, greedy as all he wanted to do was fill you up. "You're such a bitch," you mentioned, muffled by his fingers.
You felt him chuckle at your teasing. "But you're sucking my fingers while riding me, funny."
"Fuck you," you spat.
"Mama, I don't know if you noticed, but you already are." He snickered against your neck, sucking a dark hickey.
Both hands moved to your hips as he quickened your pace. Sounds of skin slapping together and quiet moans filled the room.
Your walls clenched around him, making him let out a low whimper into your ear. "You're so fucking good, fuck." You choked out between moans.
One of his hands moved down to cirle your clit, making your legs quake with pleasure.
"I'm s'fucking close." You breathed, your ass meeting his hips as you bounced against him assiduously.
"Come on, baby. Cum on my dick." He smirked into your shoulder.
The knot in your stomach snapped at his remark, releasing your juices all over his cock. Your body went limp as he kept fucking into you with the same passion. Your overstimulated moans became louder as he worked towards his own orgasm. "Doin' so good. Almost there, ma."
You crashed back into his chest, letting out a whimper as he filled you with his seed.
After you both came down from your highs, he gently helped you lay on the bed next to him. He peppered kisses all over your face before going to get a wet wipe to clean you up.  He cleaned you with care, making sure to be gentle around your sore cunt. He placed miscellaneous kisses on your inner thighs as he did so, treating you as if you were the only woman in the world.
He helped you into a clean pair of underwear and the same T-shirt he had worn that day.
He cleaned himself up as you whispered sweet nothings to him. Johnnie slipped on a clean pair of boxers before climbing into bed next to you. You cuddled into his chest with a content smile on your face as his fingers brushed through your messy hair.
"Don't act like I didn't know about your little crush on me," Johnnie flashed you a toothy smile, one you thought you'd never see directed towards you.
"Oh, shut up," you said in a joking manner. This also shocked Johnnie, seeing as you always meant it.
"Then kiss me."
You smiled, leaning up to kiss him before resting your head back on his chest.
-
You woke up the next morning with no Johnnie in sight. You pulled yourself out of his bed and stole a pair of his pajama pants off of the floor. You slipped them on.
You trudged down the stairs to find Carrington and Jake standing in the kitchen. "Mornin'." You greeted.
"Good morning, sunshine." Carrington greeted. You also earned a good morning from Jake. Carrington looked you up and down. "I see that all of that tension was resolved." He couldn't help but laugh, and Jake joined him.
"Heard, too." Jake added.
"Suck me." You rolled your eyes.
168 notes · View notes
vanishingstarrs · 7 months ago
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decode ( e. kirishima x reader, secret admirer trope )
For weeks all you could think about were the little notes folded up into hearts that you’d been finding in your locker every day.
The first one appeared over a month ago and stated: you look badass in your new costume.
You’d been pretty insecure when submitting in the new design for your hero suit and despite all your friends encouragement you still felt a bit out of place among the rest of your classmates, who always looked confident and powerful in theirs.
You weren’t expecting anything, but the next day another fell out when you went to grab a textbook in between classes and it said— that new move was impressive, your improvement and dedication amazes me each day.
And the next day.
have a great day, gorgeous
And the next.
you were awesome in that training exercise
And more.
that test was rough, hope you did better than i did— your concentrating face is cute btw <3
you kicked bakugo’s ass today (and looked hot doing it), it was great!
you’re so strong and pretty
They continued every day to the point where you had finally called an emergency meeting with your friends, you laid back on Momo’s luxurious bed with a sigh,“I have no clue, who could it be? It has got to be someone in our class with the way they know so much, but…”
“But…?” Kyoka urged you on.
Another sigh left your lips, and you couldn’t help scrunch up your face as you looked at your friends,“None of the boys in our class seem to give off secret admirer potential, what if it’s just some sick prank one of them is doing?”
“For that long?” Momo questioned before shaking her head,“I don’t know, not even our guys seem capable of something so cruel.”
“Maybe you just haven’t given the right one the chance to step up?” Ochaco offered up.
“I mean what are her options?” Mina snorted, she held a list of all the guys in their class.
You guys had gone through and already crossed off a couple that were definite no’s, people like Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari who were self proclaimed “ladies men”. You considered that it might be one of the quieter boys, maybe Kirishima or Todoroki, even Ojiro.
You had reassured Ochaco that Midoriya wasn’t even a possibility, considering the boy was loud and open about his admiration for others and could tell she was relieved when you did.
You shrugged, having gone over any interactions with the boys in your class multiple times. “I don’t know, I’m not really close with any of them… I mean I sit next to Kaminari and Kirishima so I guess they’re my friends? But Kaminari has eyes on a new girl every day and I could swear Kirishima had told me about…”
“Who?!” All four girls sat up impatiently.
“No one.” You smirked,“I don’t spill your guys’ private conversations.”
“Boooo!” Toru threw a crumbled up piece of paper at you.
You opened up your latest two notes.
golden hour looks breathtaking on you
you’ve officially taken up a permanent residence in my mind, i think of you all day long…
“Wait!” Jiro stood up suddenly, snatching one note along with her as she began digging around in her backpack.
“Hey!” You pouted, but she shushed you.
“I know how we’ll solve this mystery.” She pulled out a notebook from class.
“How?!” Ochaco asked excitedly.
You almost didn’t want to know, what if you confronted the person and it went awry?
“Okay, so last week I asked Shouji to borrow some notes for a lecture I wasn’t really listening to and look!”
All five of you leaned forward to look at the notebook and the messy scrawl on the page.
“His penmanship is quite poor.” Momo pointed out and you silently agreed.
Jiro rolled her eyes,“Not why I’m showing you guys this, what I’m getting at is that we can just ask all the boys to write something down and compare their handwriting to the notes!”
“Genius!” Mina shot up,“I was just thinking I was really hungry, we could tell them we’re ordering some takeout and have each individually write out if they want anything.”
“Perfect, we should split up and do it quick.” Ochaco agreed.
Your heartbeat picked up and you anxiously wrung your hands,“Okay, but also can we actually order food? I eat when I’m nervous and right now I’m a wreck. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Girl, you got this!” Mina turned to you with a big, encouraging smile and you returned it, albeit not as bright as hers. “Let’s find this guy!”
The group quickly agreed and everyone split up to take the class’s requests for dinner.
By the time you all met up in Momo’s room again, you were tense. You each had a note and several options to compare from, a few were easy to immediately knock off. You continued going down your list until you gasped, unable to help yourself as you met the gazes of your friends.
“What?!” Mina’s eyes bulged.
You swallowed,“I know who it is.”
Your friends all eyed the pieces of paper with matching handwriting and by the next day had convinced you to go up to the boy. You could feel their stares on you as you called out his name and beckoned him into the hall during homeroom period, asking if you could get his advice on something. You took a deep breath as you led him to a secluded window further down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for denial.
“So what’s up?” He didn’t hesitate to follow you and ask,“You okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You shrugged,“I’ve just been a little… anxious, I guess? Good anxious, but still anxious nonetheless. You see, I’ve been getting these notes in my locker ever since day but there’s no name attached to them so it’s just a little weird. I’ve been trying to figure out who it is, racking my brain like crazy.”
“Can I see one?” Kirishima asked.
“Sure, here’s today’s.” You handed him over the crisply folded sheet of notebook paper, one you could now recognize and knew was getting thinner by the pages being ripped out daily. The note read: i wish i could tell you who i am.
You could see him gulp and leaped to take your chance.
“To be honest, I’d just wanna thank the person. I’ve been struggling with some confidence issues lately and their notes every day have really been keeping my spirits up.” You turned toward the window and away from him with a sigh,“They must not think they’re brave enough to tell me, but they shouldn’t be scared of—”
“Y/N…”
You turned around immediately, eyes widening at the fact that he’d used your first name. Kirishima was standing pin straight, holding the note tight in one hand and you almost felt bad for pushing him… but you had to know if your suspicions were correct. Besides, you hadn’t been lying. You really did want to thank him for always making you smile every day.
“It’s… I wrote the notes, I’m the one who’s been sneaking them into your locker every day.” He bowed slightly,“I apologize for not being man enough to sign my name or just say all these things to your face, but I wasn’t sure of how you’d react or what you would think of me.”
“Eijiro.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised as he straightened himself up.
You smiled,“I knew it was you.”
“How…?”
You shrugged, smiling slightly,“A lady never reveals her secrets.”
This made him laugh.
“I’m sorry that I pushed you to confess, I just wanted to know if I was right and I’m glad that I was, glad that you were the one, that is.” You smiled at him,“Your notes are very sweet and I’ve enjoyed having them every day.”
As the bell rung and your classmates started filing out of class you realized your time had run out, you smiled at your friends who were giving you questioning looks. You motioned with your hand for them to move along, smiling bigger when Kirishima turned around to find them gone.
You brought his attention back to you when you spoke again,“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going, I’ve got to get to math and start studying, I’ve got a makeup coming up since I didn’t do all that great on the last exam.”
He nodded, seemingly speechless.
You couldn’t really wait for a response regardless as you rushed to pack up your things and head to your next class before the final bell rung.
You did your best to focus on the extra lessons your teacher was nice enough to give for students who’d been confused about the last test, but all you could do with think about Kirishima and whether he’d stop leaving his notes now that you knew it was him. You somehow managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, and when your friends asked about it all you could do was shrug. Nothing happened, you would say, and it was true.
Nothing happened.
Until the next day, that was.
You were headed to your locker a little earlier than usual, eager to get back to your studies when several notes fell out of your locker. Your face heated up as you rushed to pick them all up, opening the first one carefully.
Only a single word was written on the sheet of paper and you worked quickly in order to unfold the remains slips, reading through it several times just to make sure you weren’t imagining it. It read:
will
you
go
out
with
me?
— eijiro
You shut the locker, forgetting all about your textbook in favor of trying to find him instead. Which was made extremely easy because when you turned around, there he stood.
Eijiro Kirishima.
He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and you spotted a plushie of your favorite character in the center of the arrangement. You thought his eye might’ve twitched nervously as he gave you his best smile, you quickly returned it.
“I was just coming to find you.”
“You found me.” He chuckled as he took a few steps closer,“Y/N, would you please do me the honor of going out on a date with me?— it doesn’t have to be today, I know you signed up for the makeup exam in math tomorrow, and actually! If you’d like, that is, I can help you study. I think I know the material well now, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d love nothing more than to have the chance to be the man you deserve.”
“One condition.” You smiled, knowing there was no way you would’ve ever said no.
“Anything!” He agreed immediately.
You held up the unfolded hearts he always wrote his notes on,“I still get these every now and then, nonnegotiable, they really make my day.”
Eijiro’s cheeks went as red as his hair as he grinned big, nodding,“Every day.”
“Then yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” You accepted the bouquet he was holding out to you before leaning up slightly and placing a kiss on his cheek,“It’s beautiful, Eijiro, thank you.”
“Anything for you, princess.”
Now you were the one blushing, he’d used a nickname and you definitely liked it.
“You’re cute when you blush.” He complimented.
“Oh my god.” You tried to hide your face in the flowers, unable to stop the large smile from taking over your face.
He was quick to take them back out of your hands, as well as grabbing your book bag from you,“Better get used to it, princess, the notes were just a placeholder until I was able to man up enough to confess, but not a day will go by without a compliment from me, I can promise you that. And no more lugging around heavy textbooks when I’m here either.”
“Thank you, Eijiro.” You felt the blush move higher, your ears feeling warm now too.
“So, study date tonight?”
He’d never admit it, but he’d stayed up late last night going over the necessary chapters in order to be able to help you with your upcoming test. In truth, he had no clue how he passed over you, but he’d make sure it never happened again.
You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you agreed,“Definitely.”
This time, he was the one to place a kiss onto your cheek as he led the way to homeroom, smiling— beautifully and unabashedly.
Princess treatment?
You could definitely get used to that.
207 notes · View notes
builtbybrokenbells · 1 year ago
Text
CAPITAL VICES | LUST
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Lust: a strong passion or longing, especially for sexual desires.
Masterlist
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!recieving) oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dom/sub, bratty sub, dirty talk, name calling, hint of degradation, praise, sir kink, choking, impact play, touch of cum play, hookups/fwb, drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use/addiction, swearing, a painful amount of flirting (player Jake is my weakness btw), sorry if I miss any!
here we go again. i know i said i might not be posting much but i finished this up and I couldn’t help myself. my apartment is about half packed so this was a little reward for myself lol 🥰 im thrilled about this series, and I really hope you guys are too. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!
The room was packed with bodies desperate for a thrill, but most were in active search with little knowledge of how they would attain it. Some were drowning their sorrows in tequila shots while others danced away their memories, clinging on to a companion who would only temporarily solve their troubles for the night. You couldn’t blame them for giving it their best shot; even you knew that pain was more digestible when there was someone to accompany you through it. In the morning when they woke, it would return with a fervent appetite. It would snowball, feeding viciously off the shame brewing from a one night stand that could not even give them an orgasm. For the time being, they seemed content with their watered down drinks and 80’s hits playing through the system with a stranger wrapped around them. They tried not to think of the future, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of their minds. You knew they would regret it, and so did they, but they were unwilling to own the truth.
Others found their thrills in more nefarious ways, like the couple who was engaging in all but penetrative sex in the booth in the back corner. They thought the crowd would cover their show of desperation for each other, conceal them from curious eyes, but they were stealing spotlight even in the near pitch black room. Some were doing lines in the bathroom, hoping that life would get a little more interesting with the next hit all while promising themselves sobriety when the night came to an end. Despite their beliefs that they would stop their ‘recreational’ doses when the sun rose in the sky, everyone (including themselves) knew the reality of the situation; they were decomposing at the hands of substance abuse. They weren’t willing to admit to their own addiction, but most would succumb to the sickness and end up washed up in rehab after their spouses or parents reached the point of no return.
Violence even seemed to spark interest in a young pair of boys just outside, throwing fists in hopes of asserting dominance, yet only making fools of themselves in front of their dates. It was an embarrassing show of missed punches and drunken rage, but somehow it tickled them just right. They would go home pleased with themselves, proud that they ‘stood their ground’ (what they were defending, you weren’t certain of) and their dates would complain to their friends about it. After a week of missed calls and messages, the young boys would begin to understand that their temper tantrums were not good foreplay and would vow to learn their lesson. Until the next night of drinking draft and watching football on a bar television, of course.
No matter which way, every person in the bar was in search of something more, something to give them a spark of life back and a memory to tell later on down the line. None of them could admit that their entertainment for the night would do neither of those things. Instead, they would have a nasty hangover and a looming sense of dread hanging over them for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about materialistic thinking; it always leaves you unfulfilled and in search of more. The people that came to the bar miserable would ultimately leave the same way, yet they would never admit that their ways were no longer working for them. Maybe in their teens or early twenties real memories could be made over cheap tequila and hookups, and if not memories, lessons for certain. After twenty five, it just seemed a little sad to continue down the same path of destruction in hopes for anything meaningful.
You were not at the bar for a thrill. You were there for one reason; to pass the time, and to get a good buzz. Dancing was never your forte, nor was it your passion to do drugs off the back of a dirty bar toilet. Company was low on your list of priorities and always had been. You learned many years ago that you would never find a suitable life partner at a dive bar just off of Main Street in a big city. Establishments like such only ever seemed to attract college attendees and middle aged men who hated spending time with their wives. Even when a promising suspect would turn up, eventually they would show the side of them that made it impossible to keep a girlfriend. Getting to know people was a drag, and the thought of making room in your apartment for a second person was more sickening than anything else. You liked your personal space, and you liked peace. When adding a new person to your life, you were risking it all, and risk something that never peaked your interest.
Whiskey was something that caught your attention though, and when it was cheap, it only made you more inclined to indulge. You had learned long ago that this particular dive bar had the cheapest stock around, and they didn’t skip out on quality, either. They seemed to save their money by neglecting building maintenance, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. You could get drunk in a five star hotel for triple the price, and you’d still be drunk. You tried not to think about the soles of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor or the outdated interior design, and the drink in your hand aided the process sufficiently.
“Another?” The bartender asked as he nodded towards your empty glass.
“You know me too well, Ray.” You chuckled, sliding him the empty glass. He grabbed it, barely leaving your side before another was sat in front of you.
“What can I say? You’re my favourite regular.” He smiled. Both of you knew this was the truth; you appeared every weekend, sitting in the same spot and drinking the same thing, and you never made a peep aside from the small talk initiated by the workers. You were a certain tip, and if he had the luxury of being blunt, the prettiest face to look at in the crowd.
“You’re just saying that because I tip well.” You grinned, sipping away at the beverage he’d made for you.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No,” you shook your head “just pointing out the obvious.” He chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder before moving on to the next customer. You knew when the night dwindled down, he’d be back over to chat with you. Some would have shame in admitting that their closest friend was a 60 year old bartender, especially as a young woman, but you didn’t care. With him, you were never required to entertain any meaningful conversation or profess your darkest secrets. It was simple, lighthearted, and it served you well. You had no obligation to continue the friendship outside of the bar, and you got to see pictures of his grandkids. It was a win-win for everyone.
You barely looked up from your phone when the seat beside you was taken by another. You thought it odd for him to feel inclined toward that specific seat considering the bar was full of vacant space, but you didn’t think too hard about it. Drunk people didn’t care much about social cues, and you didn’t care enough to argue with them. What you did care for was the overwhelmingly strong scent of the patrons cologne, which seemed to be choking you the longer you breathed it in. It was not unpleasant; far from it, really, but it was very apparent. You weren’t sure if he doused himself in it before making an appearance at the bar, or if it was just so strong because of his close proximity. You buried yourself in your drink instead of investigating any further, knowing that someone who smelled so heavenly would only be looking for trouble.
“Any recommendations?” The voice struck you like a bolt of lightning, strong and without any warning. At first, you had doubts that the words were pointed in your direction, but when you felt a pair of eyes staring holes into your skull, you knew you were mistaken. You looked over at him, curious about the nature of his question. Surely any man who stepped foot into a bar already had an idea of what he wanted to drink. You doubted that the conversation starter was about alcohol, and was most likely a way to initiate a round of unbearable flirting.
“Depends.” You breathed, finding yourself completely distracted by the beauty of his face. His long brown hair was framing his face, and his smile was breathtaking. “What kind of night are you trying to have?”
“I’m open to suggestions.” He said, eyes lingering over the features of your face. He seemed just as enthralled in you as you were with him, and neither of you seemed keen on hiding it.
“Well, if you’re looking to dance, try the house tequila.” You started, flickering your eyes towards the wall of liquor bottles. “Seems like the draft here makes a person want to get in a fight, and the gin will leave you crying in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom, if you’re looking for some non-liquid solutions to your problems, there’s plenty in there, but I don’t know how much they’re willing to share.” He let out a laugh at your joke, but you were unsure if it was due to his shared sense of humour or because he wanted to get in your pants. Either way, it was a nice stroke to the ego. Even if it was due to a desire for sex, it was nice to feel appreciated, especially by someone so captivating.
“A lady that knows her liquor,” he noted, giving a slow nod. “I can appreciate that.”
“You asked, I answered.” You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what is it, then? Dancing, fighting, or crying?”
“None of them.” He assured you. “What if I’m looking to impress someone? Any suggestions for that?” You pretended to ponder the question before giving him an answer.
“I guess that would depend on who you’re trying to impress?” You raised an eyebrow, appearing more inquisitive than you truly were. He was handsome, and that was no secret, but it was not what you were looking for.
“You have lots of questions.”
“I can say the same about you.” You took a sip of your drink, your mouth watering at the potency of the liquid. Or, maybe it was because of the heavy-lidded gaze he was casting your way.
“If I was trying to impress a very attractive woman who’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, what do you think I should order to change her mind?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You let out a small sigh, giving a shrug of your shoulders as you took another drink. Instead of replying, you turned back to face the bar, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. When the bartender came to take his order, he was still waiting for a reply. “I’ll take two of whatever she’s having.” The unnamed man said, hoping to grab your attention again.
“So, I’m the very attractive woman?” You asked, refusing to turn back to look at him. When the drinks were placed in front of him and he slid one your way, your question was given an indefinite answer. “What if you can’t change my mind?” You posed the idea to make him sweat, but his rebuttal was effortless.
“I have the rest of the night to keep trying, then.” Another smile twisted onto your lips, finding his charm irrefutable. Even if you weren’t interested in anything further than a simple conversation, you had to admit the effort was admirable.
“I wasn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot, by the way.” You said, swishing the ice around your glass. “Maybe I thought you were a little dumb, but not an idiot.”
“That’s a relief.” He said, a smile tugging on his lips, too. His response to your humour was definitely intriguing, and you were quite interested in his relaxed expression. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Y/n,” you said, finally accepting the glass he’d pushed in your direction after draining your own. He watched you, finding your lack of reciprocal attention peculiar, yet it only seemed to spark his interest even more.
“Are you going to ask for mine?”
“Mmm,” you hummed, debating his words before giving a shake of your head. “No.”
“Playing hard to get?” He joked, sipping away at his own whiskey.
“Just don’t care.” You shrugged. It was the truth; you weren’t doing so in attempt to play hard to get, but because you did not want to be caught at all. You had no interest in playing the game of cat and mouse, because you did not intend to leave the bar with anybody. You had a date with your bed and hopes of a good nights rest. You could not do that if you were busy wrapped around another. As attractive as he was, you weren’t willing to double back on your promises to yourself. Instead, you decided that it was best to stop any further attempts to change your mind.
“Ouch.” He chuckled, waiting to see if you were joking or not. You kept your head straight, wondering if you should leave before he continued on his tyrant. Then again, he was in your bar and this was your seat, so if anyone was leaving, it was not going to be you.
Your stubbornness was your biggest weakness, but you were too stuck in your own way to see the issue. As if the gods planned such a gruesome match from the very beginning, the only rival to your own obstinacy was the one living inside the man sat beside you. You were not willing to give in, and he was not willing to give up.
“Are you from here?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that if you kept your answers short he might take the hint.
“I just moved here, thought I’d check out the town, maybe meet some new people.” You gave a slow nod, eyes now focused on the football game playing on the television above the bar. You hated football, but you hated entertaining men even more. You’d rather watch a bunch of grown men fight over a ball than engage in any kind of small talk. “Not a talker, I see.”
“Usually that means you should move on and try again with someone else.” You said, picking away at the basket of French fries sat in front of you. If there was one thing the bar did that was just as good as cheap liquor, it was deep fried foods.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” He suggested. “Nobody else in here is worth the time.”
“And I am?” You chuckled, watching the team with red jerseys score a point. “You don’t even know me. I might be a serial killer, or even worse, celibate.”
“I’d like to know you.” He offered. “What makes you think that I’m looking for sex?” You looked over your shoulder at him, taking in his attire. You looked closely at the chains dangling around his neck, drawing attention to his shirt that was buttoned only up to his stomach. His dress pants looked name brand, and his eyes screamed flirtatiously at you when you locked your stare with him. He was radiating sex appeal, which argued your case for you.
“I bet you have two condoms sitting in your wallet. You replaced them this morning, because last night, you went to a different bar and did the same thing with another girl who couldn’t see right through you.” You guessed, eyes flickering to the pocket of his pants where the bulge of his wallet sat. “It’s written all over you, honey. Stick to the college bimbo’s if you want to get anywhere worthwhile.”
“Two condoms?” He pondered the idea, a smirk growing on his face. “I take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head at his undying commitment to knowing you. “It wasn’t meant as one.”
“Then it seems like you have a knack for making insults sound like a good thing.” His eyes flickered to your lips, his personality showing through the mask for a moment. He was enamoured with you, and he was from the minute he sat down. Your disinterest was not a deterrent to him, but rather a driving force. The banter was driving him crazy, and he was not willing to go home without you.
“Maybe you just have no idea how to take a hint.” You suggested the idea, but both of you knew he was painfully aware of the situation. He knew he could step back if he so pleased, but he did not want to, nor was it an option he was willing to consider. Oddly enough, you almost found it charming. His dedication was not creepy or anything like it, mostly because he was not using vulgarity as part of his charm. You knew if you got up and walked away, he would respect it. Unfortunately, he knew just as well as you did that you would never back down and give up your seat. You could complain all you wanted about his interest in you, but you were encouraging it by interacting with him. Even in your obvious rejection, he knew he had interested you enough for you to speak to him.
“I’m Jake.” He said, disregarding your comment.
“I said I didn’t care.”
“Never said you had to care.” He reminded, finishing his drink and raising a hand to call the bartender over again. You watched him, baffled at his carelessness towards your clear insults. It seemed to wash off of him like water on a duck’s back, barely touching his confidence and only fuelling him further. He ordered another round of drinks for both of you, not bothering to ask if you wanted another. As he spoke to the bartender, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He was gorgeously dressed, drawing attention to his stunning features as he topped it off with a cocky attitude. Everything about him was compelling, and even if you weren’t keen on his company, it was incredibly difficult to ignore him. He held himself with confidence, and because of that, he radiated power. You would be lying if you said you did not find him attractive, but it did not change the fact that you were not interested in pursuing anything with him, or anyone for that matter.
Ray placed your new drinks in front of you, wasting little time in busying himself with something else. You almost felt guilty for being so mean to Jake while he was funding your night of drinking, but you did not ask him to spend money on you. You did not even ask him to speak to you, yet it seemed like the only thing he wanted to do. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at the ice swirling in the amber liquid. Even if you didn’t want to engage in any kind of sexual relations with him, you still had manners.
“So, what are you here for, tonight?” He questioned, ignoring your gratitude. He did not want to be thanked for something he was more than happy to do. You raised an eyebrow, curious about his inquiry. “Well, you’re drinking whiskey, so clearly it’s not fighting, dancing, or crying.” You chuckled at his recollections of your earlier comment.
“I’m here for a cheap drunk.” You replied, honest with your answer. “Cheapest whiskey in town, and the regulars aren’t too bad, considering I’m one of them.” He nodded along with your words, soaking in all you were willing to share. “Every Friday, same bar, same seat, same shitty football games.”
“You’re saying I have another shot if I mess this up?” He gave a playful smile which you couldn’t stop yourself from returning.
“Sure, you can take as many shots as you want. It’ll be the same answer every time, I can promise you that.”
“We’ll see.” He answered as if it were a challenge and he was competing. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the expression. “Just a conversation, that’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can throw your drink in my face and forget about me in the morning.”
“I know that it’s more than a conversation to you, Jacob.” You shot back. People like him were predictable, even if they were charming. As much as you knew he would waste your time, you knew you were wasting his. It was in his best interest to find a girl who was more likely to go home with him, because he would inevitably leave the bar empty handed and wishing he had taken a chance on another.
“Sounds like you’re scared I’m going to change your mind.” Your spine straightened at the accusatory statement. You were not afraid, and you did not like being told by another what you were feeling. What you did like was a challenge, and now that he’d worded it as such, that was the only thing you could think of.
“Fine. Let’s talk.” You smacked your palms against the table, a course of energy running through your body. You swung your chair to face him, just so he knew you were fully immersed in him. If he wanted to have a conversation, you could do that. If he thought he could convince you to take a chance on him, you were more than willing to prove him wrong.
It was a mistake that could only be classified as a fatality.
“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, trying your best to feign intrigue.
“Michigan.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his lips, pleased that he managed to push the right buttons. “You?”
“Right here in Nashville. Born and raised, never left, don’t want to.” You explained, waiting for him to ask a question, now.
“What do you do for work?”
“Photography.” You replied, not willing to delve deeper into the subject.
“That’s really cool.” He noted, genuine interest showing in his face. “I’m a musician.”
“I see,” you hummed, knowing that it was just another reason for you to abstain from knowing him. Musicians were never good news, and growing up in Nashville, you’d learned that the hard way. Most people who chased after fame had little care for anything else, and they were destined to break hearts. “Let me guess, guitar?”
“How’d you know?” He asked, but he didn’t really think it was hard to guess. It was the most common instrument in the industry, and in Nashville, everyone played guitar.
“Lucky guess.” You joked. “Band or solo act?”
“Band, I’m no singer.” He laughed.
“Don’t need to sing to be a good guitarist.” You challenged.
“Good point,” he agreed. “We just moved here, thought it was time. We made a few albums, but we’re looking for something bigger.”
“Are you any good?” You sipped at your drink. The quick-fire questions were wearing you down and you needed a pick me up.
“I’d like to think so, but everyone has their own opinion.” You hummed in agreement, not willing to make a promise to listen to his music, but curious about his skill. “Maybe we could get you to do a photoshoot for us.”
“I’m out of your price range.” You teased, a smile on your lips. The conversation was not unbearable, but definitely was not something you came to the bar with intent to do.
“I’m sure we could figure out a suitable payment.” He said, unable to hold back the drop in his voice and the lustful twinkle in his eye. You watched him, wanting to chastise him for the flirting, but you felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. You were immune to charm most of the time, but something about him was irresistible. You weren’t sure if it was the relaxed posture and the certainty in himself, or if it was the overwhelming beauty of him as a whole. Whatever it was, he was pulling you in without you even noticing. You were struggling to fight it mostly because it was so subtle. Before you could realize you were being trapped, there was no way you could escape.
“I thought this was just a friendly conversation, Jacob?” You couldn’t help the drawl in your tone that screamed for him to keep going. You wanted to blame it on the strength of the liquor in your cup lowering your inhibitions, mostly because you refused to admit it was solely due to his captivating stare.
“I don’t think I’m being unfriendly, sweetheart.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, so delightful even if it was filthy.
“Too friendly, perhaps?” You corrected. Both of you were leaning in to each other without even realizing it. The tension was thick in the air, and it had been from the moment he sat down. Even if you were not looking for anything more, you couldn’t deny the strength of the chemistry between you.
“What’s your issue with me?” He smirked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.
“It’s not you specifically.” You were truthful with your answer. It was not him, but rather dating as a whole. “The whole dating game was never my thing, and I don’t plan on getting into it, now.”
“Who said anything about dating?” He challenged.
“Nobody, but I don’t like hookups, either.” You explained. “Something about pointless small talk and meaningless sex never really interested me. Why would I want to tell you about myself now just to try to forget you in the morning?”
“I’d like to think that you’d have a hard time forgetting about me.” He was cocky, and that was for certain. It was something that would usually be a turn-off, but it looked so good on him that you couldn’t seem to shoot him down. “What about something in the middle?”
“What could possibly be in the middle of that?” You scoffed. “I don’t want a hookup, and I definitely don’t want to go to breakfast in the morning. I like my personal space, and I like being alone. Knowing you complicates that, and I hate complicated.”
“Do you like having friends?”
“I think I’d be a bit strange if I didn’t.” You replied. “But I know you’re not looking to be friends.”
“Do you like sex?” He continued his questioning without even acknowledging your concerns. Although it was blunt and definitely not a normal topic of conversation for two people who just met, it did not bother you.
“Most do.” You took another sip of your drink, the warmth spreading to your chest and replacing the burn of arousal brewing in your stomach. “Depends if it’s good or not.”
“We can be friends that have really good sex.” He offered, raising an eyebrow while he waited for a response. When you didn’t answer, he continued trying to sell the idea. “Casual, no strings attached whatsoever, but you wouldn’t need to forget about me, and we wouldn’t be obligated to go to breakfast in the morning.”
“How can I agree to that when I’m not even sure I want to be friends with you? More than that, I have no idea if you’re as good as you think you are. I don’t like being disappointed, Jacob.” You were calling a bluff you knew did not exist. He looked as if he was put on this earth to please others in ways many could never imagine. Just looking at his hands made your mouth water, already knowing the power he held in them. You couldn’t even think of anything further than that, because you knew that it would be far beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were trying not to crack under the pressure, but the thought of his head between your thighs was making it nearly impossible to breathe. “Besides, what if I’m not all you think I am? You don’t seem like the type to like disappointment, either.”
“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have it in you to disappoint, sweetheart.” His hand slowly reached out, fingers ever so slightly grazing the exposed skin on your leg. The touch was searing, painful but addicting. “I don’t like dating, but I do like you. I think it would be a shame if we never saw each other again.”
“Getting sick of playing the game every night?” You theorized. “Sounds like you’re getting lazy.” He shook his head, eyes seemingly staring into your soul as he watched your face.
“I just know what I want,” he corrected “and I don’t think I need to keep looking.” It was impossible to believe he was lying, because the look in his eye spoke certainty without him needing to say anything more.
“So, friends who have really good sex?” You clarified.
“Friends who have phenomenal sex, actually.” He said.
“I’m a busy woman, Jake. You better not be looking to waste my time.” You explained. “If I’m going to find time to entertain you, it better be worth it.”
“I’m a busy man,” he agreed “but I know how to make it worth your while.”
“Theoretically, if we did decide to do this, we’d just be having sex?” You asked, wanting to be certain of the situation. “You aren’t going to fall in love and fuck it all up?”
“I’m sure we can have a drink at the bar together every now and again. That’s where the friends part comes in, but yes, just sex.” He laughed. “I like you, I find you incredibly attractive and interesting, and I would like to see you again after tonight, but the same way we’re doing it right now. Maybe with less insults.”
“I can’t promise the insult thing.” You found yourself laughing alongside him. “You’re a very forward person, you know. We barely know each other.”
“I know you enough to know that I like you, and I also know that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since moving here.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jake.” You could feel your cheeks burning, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or his sweet words.
“It’s worked so far.” He breathed, finding himself leaning closer to you. Your faces were inches apart, both of you able to close the gap with little struggle. His eyes were locked with yours, silently begging you to give in to him. You could feel him pulling you in, almost as if he had his own gravitational force and you were the only victim of it. Although, you knew that wasn’t true. With charm like his, you were sure that you were not the only one cowering underneath the weight of it. For tonight, you were his focus, but when the morning came, you figured he would forget the idea of casual sex and already be in search of another. Players loved to play, and they always fought dirty. You were certain he was just saying what he could to get in your pants and he would be a different person when you woke in the morning.
His hand slipped to your hip, the touch was euphoric even through the material of your dress. You wanted to give in, but you thought it was too good to be true. Someone interested in meeting your physical needs without imposing on your everyday routine seemed like a great idea, but it was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it could be so simple. Even considering your fears, the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore, and it had been a long time since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another. “This sounds like a bad idea.” You warned, eyes flickering to his lips. His nose was brushing against yours now, sending jolts of electricity through you.
“Do you trust me?” He whispered, so quiet that it was almost hard to hear him over the music playing in the background.
“Not really.” You laughed, but just barely. You were scared to move away, and you were scared to move forward.
“One night, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we can just forget about it.” He offered, still so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like whiskey, and you were sure you caught a hint of a Cuban cigar. He was intoxicating, more so than any alcoholic beverage you had consumed that night. Your head was spinning and your rationality was slipping away. You were enamoured with him, and you felt like you were completely consumed by his presence. The world stopped turning, the music stopped playing; the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat which was in time with his own.
“One night?” You breathed, coming to terms with the idea that he was inescapable. You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance, but there was a bigger part of you that was grateful you stayed. You had the opportunity to add some excitement to your life without changing anything at all. You didn’t come to the bar in search of a thrill, but Jake seemed to be promising enough. No worry of a hookup that left you unfulfilled and regretful, and no expectation for anything more. It was exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
“One night. Trial run.” He reiterated, hoping to ease your mind. “That sound good to you, angel?” You went weak at the pet name, all of your willpower dissolving into an imminent need for more. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek in your palm and bridged the gap between you. His fingers tightened on you, enthusiastic about your sudden change of heart. The kiss was laced with the weight of every sinful desire you had ever felt before, and even more than that. It was so profound that it made your chest ache and you feared that if there was a god, he would never forgive you for the sacrilegious things you so badly wanted to commit with the man before you. “Thought I couldn’t change your mind?” He asked, barely parted from you. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but it wasn’t even aggravating enough for you to care.
“Shut up and take me home, Jacob.” You said, unwilling to wait any longer in fear you might talk yourself out of it. Instead of a verbal response, he placed another kiss on your lips before turning to close out the tab you had run up. Within a few moments, your jacket was over your shoulders and he was calling you both a cab.
In the backseat of the car, you both tried your best to keep it PG, but the tension of the night was reaching a climatic end. His hand was permanently anchored on your thigh just under the skirt of your dress, fingertips dangerously close to the parts of you he was so desperate to know. Your hand was on his wrist, holding it tightly just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas that would get you in trouble. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid for you to agree to go to a strangers house for the promise of sex. You had no idea if he was as genuine as he appeared, yet it seemed a bit too late for that concern. You also had no idea how he managed to coerce you into joining him, but a part of you was ecstatic that he did. The calloused fingertips dancing over the soft skin of your leg led you to believe that your decision would benefit you greatly, because no average person could produce such an impact with such a little effort.
Jake handed a bill to the driver once the car was parked in the driveway of an apartment complex. He didn’t wait for the change, but did utter a small thanks before rushing out to open your door for you. “A gentleman.” You noted. He gave a chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the door. He let you both inside, keeping quiet as he led you to his apartment. He unlocked his door, holding it open for you and allowing you to go first. You took in the sight, noticing the simplistic nature of the decor as you took off your shoes.
“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He said, flipping on a light for you.
“No, it’s cute. I like it.” You assured him, feeling nervousness begin to creep in. The air smelled like him, but you couldn’t place the familiarity. It was earthy, smoky, and overall enticing. In the kitchen, you noticed a couple frames on the walls with pictures of him and three other boys. Your eyes lingered over the faces, smiling as you studied them. You turned your head to look into the living room, noticing a record player under the dim yellow lighting of a lamp. There was a few posters splayed on the walls and a couple plants sitting on the windowsills. It was not what you were expecting, but you thought it was effortlessly him. You did not know him very well, but from what you knew of him, the vibe seemed to match the personality.
His hand landed on your lower back, causing you to jump slightly under his touch. “You okay?” He asked, looking down at you.
“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to cover up the anxious look on your face. “You’re not… you’re not going to kill me, are you? Because that would suck.” He let out a laugh, a true one that was loud and came straight from his chest.
“No, sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not going to kill you.” He said, turning you to face him. You looked up at him, seeing genuineness written all over his expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your chin between his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Okay,” you sighed, feeling relief flood your body. You knew that it was irrational, but hearing the words of comfort helped. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips as reassurance. “Is that the rest your band in those pictures?” You asked, finding the courage for conversation again. He looked to the frames, nodding his head.
“Yeah.” Without hesitation, he guided you towards them so you could get a closer look. “That one’s Josh, he’s my twin brother. He sings.” He pointed at the boy with short, curly hair. You did notice how similar their faces looked now that you were a bit closer. You thought it was cool that he was a twin, and you wondered if his brother had the same irrefutable charm. “That one is Sam, he’s my youngest brother, and he plays the bass.” He pointed towards the tall boy with long, brown hair. They also looked strikingly similar, and if he hadn’t already told you that Josh was his twin, you might have mistaken Sam to be one. “And that’s Daniel, our drummer. He’s Sam’s best friend, but he’s more like a brother, too.”
“That’s really cool, actually.” You said, looking back over at him. “You guys won the genetic lottery, looks and talent-wise.” The hand he had resting on your back tightened at the compliment as a smile began to blossom on his face. You could tell how much the other three boys meant to him without him even saying a word. “So, do you do this tour with everyone you bring home, or am I just special?”
“No, you’re just special.” He said without missing a beat. You felt your cheeks tinge red at his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Besides, friends need to know each other, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” You suddenly remembered that you were not there with the intent of being a one night stand. You would have asked him more, but you had a sneaking suspicion the tour was coming to an end. You both seemed to overcome your streak of anxiety and remembered the state that you arrived in. “So, are you going to prove that you weren’t bluffing, or are we just going to stand here all night?” He looked down at you, intrigued in your change of direction.
“Do you think I was bluffing?” He asked, shifting to face you. You looked up at him, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“If the shoe fits.” You barely had time to process his reactive expression, because his hands were on your hips and his mouth was on your own. With the new found freedoms of privacy, desperation made its first appearance of the night. His hands were groping you with a feral attitude, and yours were doing just the same. It took no time for you to undo the buttons of his shirt, brushing it off his shoulders with excitement to see more. He let go of you only for long enough to slip the fabric off his body, then his hands returned to you in the same fervent manner.
The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, pulling you further into his web and trapping you there for eternity. You knew that despite your promises of only spending a single night together, you would be crawling back to him begging for more before the morning even came. In the (very) short time you’d known him, it was incredibly apparent to you that he was an addiction that was impossible to overcome. He was injecting himself into your veins, burrowing under your skin and filling your lungs with his being. You weren’t sure if it was purposefully, or if it was just an extension of his outlandish charm.
He took you by surprise, his grip tightening on your hips just before he lifted you with ease. He took a few steps forward, sitting you gently on his kitchen counter. He was quick to find home between your legs, never once breaking the kiss. You let your fingers dance over his now bare bicep, wanting to familiarize yourself with every part of him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless with stars in your eyes. “Do you still think I’m bluffing, or do I have to prove myself?”
“If I say no, it would ruin all the fun.” You sighed, still trying to catch your breath.
“I guess it’s a good thing I was going to prove it, anyway.” His fingers snaked under your dress, creeping up to your hip where the elastic of your underwear was resting. He hooked them through the side, but did not go any further. “Let’s go over some rules, first.”
“I hate rules,” you said, only focused on the sensation of his fingers resting on your bare skin. “They’re meant to be broken, anyway.”
“Not with me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his other hand guiding your chin up so you would keep your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to be easy on you, but I need you to be honest with me about what you want. Got it?”
“Okay.” You nodded, the power in his gaze making your squirm underneath him.
“Remember your colours. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop. Never, never be scared of telling me to stop or slow down.” The topic was not up for debate, and you were under clear understanding of what he needed from you.
“Okay.” You repeated, nodding your head against his hold. “Any other colours I should know?”
“How about blue, for ‘this is the best sex I’ve ever had’?” He smirked, playfulness sparkling in his eyes.
“Don’t expect to hear that one.” You teased, eyes flickering to his lips in hopes he would kiss you again. Your last jab seemed to motivate him to do so, but this time he didn’t seem as enthusiastic.
“Careful.” He warned. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I wouldn’t be so nice.”
“How thoughtful.” You made sure your sarcasm was apparent. He seemed fired up at your response, but was not comfortable enough with you yet to show it. Or, perhaps he was afraid to scare you away. “Any other rules I should keep in mind?”
“Hmm,” he hummed, happy you asked. “You refer to me as ‘Sir’.” You had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The request was silly to you, and he was aware that you thought so. You had little desire to refer to someone you just met as ‘Sir’. Even if the dom/sub dynamic was something you enjoyed, you couldn’t deny that you liked to push buttons, and his seemed like so much fun to mess with.
“I think that’s a title you have to earn, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling him tense under your touch. He shifted his hold on your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and raising an eyebrow at you. The look in his eye made you believe that his patience was already beginning to run thin. You fought back an eye roll, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing feeling between your legs that was growing stronger by the second. “Whatever you want, Sir.” You made sure to accentuate the emotion in the word, showcasing your feelings about the situation.
“Lose the attitude,” he ordered, but seemed pleased with the compliance. “If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” Even in his dominating performance, he seemed to be gentle with you. He did not want to push you too far on the first try, mostly because he wanted to ensure you would come back for more. He liked you, and not just because he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the fire that seemed to burn in your heart, and the way you always had a comeback for any of his comments. He was not shy to admit that he was completely infatuated with you, and even if he was not interested in dating, he did think it would be a shame if he could not see you again once the night was through.
“I’ll be so good for you, Sir. I promise.” A smirk was plastered across your lips as you spoke, driving him crazy without even trying too hard. You couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. He was extremely attractive and you were very interested in what he had to offer, but you had never been the type to take orders without a fight. It appeared like he loved order, and you had always loved pushing boundaries.
It was a match made in hell, and both of you were completely blind to it.
“And you think I talk a lot?” He questioned, giving a hard tug on the fabric of your underwear. It tightened against your skin only for a moment before it snapped, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased with you.
“Hey,” you protested, your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Those were expensive.”
“I’ll replace them.” He assured you, sliding his hand to the other side to do the same.
“So you’re offering to be a sugar daddy, now? Didn’t know that was part of the deal.” You huffed, using your hands to prop yourself up off the counter. With your new position, he removed the ripped fabric from you completely.
“Offering to replace what I destroyed doesn’t mean I’m paying you to fuck me.” He said, bunching the skirt of your tight dress and pushing it to your hips. You let yourself back down on the counter, the cool marble taking you by surprise. “I don’t need to pay you for that. We both know you’ll be back on your own accord.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” You argued, watching as his fingertips dusted over your bare thighs. You wanted to quiver under the touch, but you couldn’t allow him the satisfaction. His eyes flickered to your face, clearly displeased by your constant rebuttals. “Sir.” You added, noticing the muscles in his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. He continued forward, inching his fingers between your legs. He gave one forceful move of his wrist and spread them for you. A gasp of surprise slipped out as he brought his fingers to your cunt and ran them through the arousal that was pooling.
“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who wants to get fucked.” His voice was low, now completely unconcerned about your bratty attitude. He was done with the conversation, and he was more than ready to get you to stop talking. His fingers gathered the wetness, slowly trailing upward to your clit. He started with slow circles, his touch light as a feather and only serving as a reminder of what you were there for. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access to you. “Now, let’s hear something worthwhile come out of your mouth.” He applied a bit more pressure, the feeling already distracting you from your desire to argue. “How does that feel, angel?” He asked, sliding his thumb in place of his fingers and continuing his earlier pace.
“G-good,” you stuttered, amazed at the pleasure he was giving you just from the small movement. You weren’t sure if it was so good because of his talent, or if it had just been too long since you had felt the touch of another like such. At the positive nature of your comment, he found enough generosity to slowly add his fingers to you, pumping them slowly to give you some extra stimulation. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, letting your head fall forward to rest on his own forehead. He could not chastise you for not using the term he’d asked you to, mostly because the pet name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.
In that moment, he was certain he would let you call him whatever you wanted as long as you said it in the same sweet tone.
“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He whispered, moving his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers, keeping the pace as the pressure steadily began rising in your belly. “Is this why you were being so bratty? You just wanted me to touch you?”
“Yes, sir.” You muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his fingers upwards. He was making you feel far too good for you to want to disobey his orders.
“So, that’s the trick.” He chuckled, eyes intently focused on his hand working at your cunt. “Just need to give you some attention and that will shut you up.” He rasped, the sight of you nearly sending him feral. He was desperate for relief himself, but unwilling to show it until he knew you were well taken care of. If he wanted you to come back, he needed to give you something to make you want to come back.
“Please, don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling a thin layer of sweat form over your face. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your breathing was laboured. The pressure was unbearable, and the threat of an orgasm was imminent. You could not even find it within yourself to hold off, nor taunt him any further. It had been so long since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another, and you had never felt it quite it the same as he was giving you.
“Already?” He teased, but his tone was incredibly soft. He didn’t care that you were already there, and if anything, he took it as a compliment to his work. “Has nobody been taking care of you, angel?” He made it a point to perfect his movements, not wanting to lose the momentum even for a second. “Answer me,” he whispered, but the order was firm.
“N-no,” you shook your head against him, honesty radiating from you. You couldn’t really hide anything in such an intimate display, and you knew even if you tried to lie to him, he would easily see through you. “Nobody.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, sweet girl.” He assured you. The pet name washed over you like summer rain, enveloping you in warmth and surrounding you with a comfort that would last as long as he continued to touch you. “I’ll take care of her, just like she deserves.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his words, overwhelmed by the vulgarity and weak from the heartfelt promise. He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing that you were ready to come undone. He was more than willing to give you the orgasm, almost as desperate as you were for it. After an entire night of only being shot down, the gratification from taking you for his own was unexplainable. “Cum for me, angel. I know you want to.” He purred, moving his free hand to the back of your head for extra support. The last thing he wanted was for you to lose balance and be distracted from the pleasure.
“Oh, god.” You groaned, eyes screwed shut as your mind dissolved into nothing but thoughts about the man before you. You were praying to him as if he were the god that created the earth for you to walk on, and in that moment, he was. As the orgasm washed over you, the only thing to exist in the entirety of the universe was Jake, and you were perfectly content with the power he possessed.
But, he was not a god, nor anything holy. Jake was the devil reincarnate, and he was not there as a reward for your courageous sacrifices. He was there as punishment for every mistake and every sin you had committed in this lifetime and all the ones before. In that moment, he seemed like he was put in your life as a blessing, a gift for the troubles you had endured, but the reality was harsh and you were completely blind to it. When your mind cleared and the haze of sexual tension lifted, you were able to look deeper into the ties that held you together with him, but even then it did not seem to matter. His work was done, and you had fallen victim to the temptation. Jake would be the solution to every sexual desire that you could even imagine would come, but he would be the root cause for a world of trouble you had been desperately trying to stay away from.
Jake was the type of person you could fall in love with, and despite your hatred for dating and all things that came along with it, you were in long past in love just by the first touch. You were addicted to him, and dependancy was infinitely worse than love according to your standards. The power he possessed in his hands was otherworldly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what else he had in store for you. Your agreement for a single night would be the worst decision you had ever made, but like all bad decisions, you would not realize the extent of the issue until it was long past repairable.
You were brought back to reality by Jake removing his hand from you. The loss of contact was nearly excruciating, and you were desperate for him to keep going until the both of you collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Even then, you were sure you could still find enough energy to wrap yourself around him once more. “How was that, angel?” He hummed, pulling back from you only slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes heavy-lidded and your body still trembling with the ghost of the orgasm.
“It was so good,” you sighed, already reminiscing on the memory. He gave you a smirk, so small that it was barely noticeable, but you picked up on it. You were certain that you would study ever minuscule detail and movement until it drove you to insanity. He was so captivating that he was the only thing you wanted to know about. He raised his fingers to his lips, sliding his middle finger in his mouth while holding a steady eye contact with you. When his finger landed on his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savouring the taste of your orgasm for as long as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled the digit from his lips, leaving a slight echo of a pop ringing through the air.
“Taste even better than I imagined.” He muttered. Your entire body prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and you thought you might come undone again just at the sight. Your skin was ablaze with arousal, and your chest was burning with need for him. You had little care about what he was going to do next, and you were just happy to be on the receiving end of it. “See, it wasn’t so hard to be good for me, was it?”
“No, sir.” You breathed, watching him in awe. He took in a long breath, letting the word settle deep in his bones with pride.
“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, his voice barely breaking through the air.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded, making sure he knew you were being truthful. He smiled at the sound, crouching down slightly and hooking his legs under your thighs. Gently, he brought you to the edge of the countertop, wasting no time before bringing his mouth to your cunt. It was a fantastic apology for the withdrawal of his hands, and it send you straight back into a cloud of euphoria. Your hands snaked to his hair, pulling at the roots in attempt to get him closer than he already was.
His tongue found your clit with little hesitation, and he was working at you like a man starved. His fingers were branding your thighs with marks bound to last long past the excitement, and you didn’t care a bit about it. The evil laced within the movements of his tongue was incomprehensible, much greater than anything he had bestowed upon you with his fingers. You wanted to believe that the man nestled between your thighs was purely human that had just been blessed with otherworldly charm, but you were beginning to have your doubts about the matter. You feared that he was an entity you had not yet encountered, one with strength and power you could not comprehend.
By the first touch, you were in too deep to pull yourself out, and now, you had done nothing but cement the foundation of the entanglement so strongly that not even an earthquake could shake it. He was so powerful that he made it seem natural, and it was almost terrifying. He could leech your life supply directly from the source without you even noticing, and once he began, it felt too good to stop him. He made it appear that you were the one controlling the situation, yet the control had never even been close enough for your fingertips to graze. He was inhuman, and that much you were sure of. The evil was so abundant inside of him that not even a priest could expel it enough to free him.
You knew this to be true, because as your eyes drifted downwards towards him, you could have sworn you saw the shadow of devil horns on the wall when the city lights broke through the darkness just right.
You did not have the luxury to focus on your revelations, because he had brought his hand back to you and continued at his earlier pace. A guttural moan tore from your chest, the feeling overwhelming and making it unable to focus on anything other than him. You finally understood why he was not interested in dating; he was so good at sex that it would be a waste of talent to only share it with one person. It made you curious as to why he was interested in a casual relationship with you, and why he thought that you were the golden ticket to fulfilling all of his needs. You were not anything fantastic, nor were you offering him anything substantial. You could not understand the potential he saw in you, but if he was willing to give you the promise of his hands and his tongue, you would be a fool to refuse it.
You were certain you could not only live, but thrive off the pleasure he was giving you for the rest of your life. If he was interested in a casual commitment to each other, low effort but with a glorious reward, you were more than happy to participate in the agreement. You were certain enough in yourself to cut him off if it got too intense, and you were committed enough to your own security to know when it was time to end things. In the meantime, harmless fun sounded fantastic, and he could provide just that. Besides, he looked too ethereal with his head between your thighs to worry about any consequences. Despite it only being the first time, he was so effortless with his work that it appeared as if he always belonged there.
“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, finding it hard to keep holding yourself upright. Your arm was shaking underneath the weight of your body, and you cared so little about falling that you didn’t even bother to stop him so you could reposition. The pressure in your belly was intense, letting you know that you were close to the end anyway, and you didn’t need to take any precaution. If he continued at the same pace, you wouldn’t be able to contain your second orgasm of the night.
He hummed against you, showing his enthusiasm about your enjoyment. He made sure to curl his fingers again, remembering that you had enjoyed it the first time he had done it. A rush of pleasure ran through you and your legs involuntarily tightened against his head. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, completely disconnected from your brain and doing whatever it could to keep him there. The movement did not deter him, but only encouraged him further. With one last flick of his tongue in just the right place, you were driven over the edge and crying out his name. Your whole body was rigid, the intensity unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. If his intent truly was to give you the best sex of your life, he had went above and beyond to accomplish it, and you weren’t even to the best part, yet.
He slowly pulled back as he noticed you relax against him, instead peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. As you both attempted to catch your breath, the tension in the air was at an all time high. You were eager for more, and he was eager to get started. When your mind cleared and you were able to form a coherent thought, you looked down at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. “Blue.” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat coarse from the noises he had pried from you. He looked up at the sound, unable to hide the smile on his face. His eyes told you that you had just given him the greatest compliment he’d ever received.
“Really?” He said as if he were pondering the truth of the statement. “I’m just getting started.”
“Really.” You sighed, nodding your head. It was a sad sigh, mostly because you hated admitting that he had been right all along. But, you had always been one to believe that you should give credit where credit is due, and this was definitely a perfect example of the philosophy. “I’ll even clean your counters for you, since I was the one who made the mess.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.
“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed you off, rising to his feet. “That was the best meal this kitchen has ever seen.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t help the smile that was blossoming on your lips. Even in his boyish humour, there was still an unexplainable charm laced into it. Everything about him was irresistible, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You held on to his arm for support as you got down off the counter, refusing to let go until you were steady on your feet. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him into another kiss. The suddenness distracted him from his comment, and he was immediately immersed in you once again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a gentle tease and a thank you for his service. You could feel him start to smile as you pulled away.
Without any further conversation, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. It took him a second to process your change in direction, but he certainly could not find a complaint about it. He was painfully hard, his erection strained against his pants as he waited for you to proceed. You made the process as slow as possible, needing to resume your commitment to your teasing. You knew it was driving him crazy, and if you had to admit, you loved it. You brought your hand to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. You discarded it on the floor, moving next to the button and zipper. You unzipped it painfully slow, making sure to hold eye contact with him while you did so. With his help, his pants were also discarded in the floor, leaving him only in his boxers.
Your mouth was watering at the thought of what was beneath the thin material, eager to please him after such a phenomenal performance from him. With a little courage, you took the final step in freeing him from his boxers. You felt another rush of arousal straight to your core at the sight. He was desperate for relief, but he was allowing you to make the first move; as excited as he was, he cared greatly about your comfortability and wanted you to know you had the option to change your mind if needed. You moved forward, parting your lips slightly as you took him into your mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling, the stimulation small but still fantastic. The sound gave you a boost of confidence, knowing that he would enjoy whatever you were offering him.
You relaxed your jaw, focusing on his head just for a moment. You let your tongue flick over the sensitive area a few times, revelling in the sounds of enjoyment coming from him. You thought they were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you would go to the ends of the earth to continue pleasing him just to hear them again. After a moment, you drew in a long breath before taking him in further. You took him far enough for the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, then you began to bob your head. His head fell backwards in bliss as his hand reached to gather your hair from your face. You let out a moan against him, the vibration intensifying the feeling for him.
You had never been so willing to submit to a man, let alone a stranger on a one night stand, but you were willing to do it all for him. He was intoxicating, and you wanted to live in the filthy, drunken hookup for the rest of your life. It was exhilarating, and you had never experienced sex that was so enjoyable. Usually, the men talked themselves up so much that they inevitably underperformed. With some, it was easy to overlook the disappointment because they left you with an orgasm or two, but most didn’t even meet that quota. Never in your life had you found someone who was so concerned with your pleasure, and never one who was so willing to give before receiving anything himself. It was practically unheard of in modern dating and hookup culture, and you weren’t willing to let him slip through your fingers.
If he wanted casual with no strings attached, you would oblige to the request without any further hesitation. He had proved himself beyond anything you could have imagined, and your only hope was that you could do the same.
He let out a sigh, holding your hair tightly in his fist. He couldn’t stop himself from guiding your head down on him, the need for more too much to resist. “You look even prettier with my cock in your mouth.” He muttered, looking down at you while you tried to keep up with his guidance. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare through your lashes. He was feral looking, his jaw hard set with a flame dancing in his pupils. He was crazy for you, and he felt no need to hide it. You let out a hum of agreement, the vibration adding a little more energy to the sensation he was already experiencing. “Fuck, angel.” He groaned, adding a little more force to his hand. “Just tap my leg if you need me to stop.”
With that, he began moving your head for you, completely taking the control. He tried his best to keep it tolerable for you, but he was succumbing to the pleasure more with each second that passed. You tried your best to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of him down your throat, but it was growing difficult with each thrust of his hips. Tears were forming in your eyes, smudging mascara down your cheeks, and you were fighting a gag with every movement. You were too stubborn to give up, but you had to admit that his size was a bit hard to handle. His grip on your hair was tight, and he seemed too enthralled in the moment to notice your struggle.
He pushed your head down on him, his cock sliding down your throat as his head fell back in bliss. Your eyes squeezed shut as your throat constricted around him, the gag no longer able to be prevented. He let out a long slur of curses laced with a moan, enjoying every second of your suffering. You had to admit that you were enjoying it too, and you knew that you would do it a million times over again just to please him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a sure sign that he was close, but he wasn’t willing to risk ending the fun. He withdrew, finally allowing you a full breath of air. You coughed a few times, clearing your throat and bringing yourself back to reality. He kneeled down to your level, eyes carefully inspecting your face.
He did enjoy the sight of you so disheveled, but he worried that he went a little too far. He brought his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the tear stains as you wiped your chin clean from any spit still lingering. “You want me to fuck you now, baby?”
“Yes, please.” You muttered, nodding your head eagerly. He helped you to your feet, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss that lasted only a few seconds.
“Let’s get this off of you.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands snaking under the bunched up material of your dress. You pulled back from him, lifting your arms and allowing him to slip it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, but his eyes were only focused on your now fully exposed body. He took in a long breath, trying his best to contain the filthy thoughts he was having, but it was showing clearly in his expression alone. You watched him, silent and unmoving while you awaited his next move. Slowly, he brought his hands back to you, gentle in his touch as if he thought you were fragile. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen some so beautiful before and he wanted to take his time to fully admire you.
His hands dropped to your hips as he guided you towards him and your hands reached out for him, already yearning to feel him on your skin again. He kissed you again, more intense than the one before and this time, he didn’t seem keen on breaking it. In a swift motion, he picked you up once more. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Instead of placing you on the counter again, he turned around and broke the kiss just for a moment to see what his next move would be. His eyes landed on the kitchen table, his train of thought apparent without him even speaking a word. He took two steps forward, holding you tightly with one hand to make sure he wouldn’t drop you. He inspected the surface that was littered with papers and journals full of half-written songs.
With little care, he took his free hand and swiped away all of the items with a single movement. You turned your head, looking to watch all of papers float to the floor with little grace. You couldn’t deny that his actions only turned you on more; the desperation laced within his solution was hot, much like everything else he had done that night. He bent down, placing you on the table with caution. He let his hands fall back to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table so he could have easy access to you. His hand drifted to your lower back as he brought his lips to your neck, finding the most sensitive spots straight away. You barely knew him, and you barely knew anything about him, but he seemed to know your body better than anyone ever had before. It was like he had a greater understanding of you than even yourself.
A breathy moan sounded from you as he sucked light marks into the skin just below your ear. One of his hands came to your chest, happy that your lack of clothing was giving him the opportunity to know all of you. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sending a surge of electricity straight through you. Everything he was doing felt amazing, but you were done with the foreplay, even if it was fantastic. The tension was so strong that you thought you might break underneath the weight of it.
“Please fuck me, Jake.” You begged, delirious from all of the stimulation that you were feeling. “I need you.” His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound, addicted to the feeling of being needed by you. It was better than any drug and stronger than any other addiction. He would do whatever he could to make sure you always wanted him that way.
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He threw out the rhetoric, not expecting an answer from you. Instead he hiked your leg up and around him, making sure you took the hint to hold it there. “Didn’t realize you were such a little whore.” The word knocked the air from your lungs, replacing it with a venomous desire. Your chest was burning from how badly you needed him, and you knew that you would do anything just to be insulted by him, because even hurtful words sounded pleasant coming from his mouth. It was a luxury to be a whore for him, and you were an idiot for trying so hard to turn him down.
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, both of you aching for relief, knowing that the sex was bound to be beyond anything you had been imagining all night. “You want me, angel?” He asked, his voice husky and filled with lust. You caught sight of his eyes, which were now completely unfamiliar to you. The warm brown that was so inviting was not black with desire, and a different man was standing before you.
If you had to admit, you liked this one much better.
“Please, sir. Need you inside of me.” You whispered, sweetly and softly to coax him into giving you what you wanted. The gentle tone seemed to drive him over the edge, and without any further consideration, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a mutual sigh of satisfaction at the feeling, but you were both already wanting more. He could not bother with a slow start, knowing that neither of you wanted to take things easy. His rocked his hips while keeping a firm hold on your hips, making sure nothing could disturb the long awaited pleasures.
You wrapped an arm around his neck, already finding yourself bargaining with an orgasm. If he was an evil entity, his trade was sex, and you knew he could use it for punishment and reward. Something about him was otherworldly, and you started to fear that your agreement with him would ultimately be your demise. He made you feel too good to want to let go of him, but the idea of the relationship getting messy was paralyzingly terrifying. At the same time, rationality was only second to the way he made you feel, and heartbreak was a risk you were willing to take to indulge in his sin.
“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He did not need to ask the question; he already knew the answer, and the affirmation was solely to further his growing ego.
“Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered, struggling to keep your leg wrapped around him while he continued on his brutal pace. He was hitting the perfect angle, a pleasurable pain shooting through you with every re-entry. He used his arm to guide your upper half down towards the table, and you used a free hand to hold yourself up.
“Being so good for me, angel.” His fingers reached between your legs while his gaze stayed focused on your face, enthralled in the expressions you were making. Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he found your clit again, rubbing circles as he continued to fuck you. You thought it almost comical that he called you angel, because you were so convinced that he was the devil. The two did not seem to coincide with each other, yet you remained tangled up in each other in what felt like perfect harmony.
The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, much more intense than you expected, and it was a feeling you wished to have forever. You would be perfectly content if you lived out your next sixty years in the same position, with his hands on you and his sweet words whispered in your ear. His fingers focused on your already sensitive clit was driving you near insanity. You weren’t sure if he was naturally good at what he did, or if he was trying extra hard to ensure you would come back to him. Either way, you were certain that when the morning came and you sobered up, you would still want him just the same. Days would pass, and you would be knocking on his door begging for a shred of what he gave you the first night you spent together. It was so good that you didn’t even care if he played the same game with every girl he picked up at the bar, because even if it was a reused version of his character, it was working. Every movement, every slight touch and sweet word that came from his mouth seemed special, like it was perfectly crafted just for your taste. You wanted to believe that even if he was a player and you were a recluse that denounced love, the moments shared between you was of importance.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” His words came out in a slight slur, telling you that he was having a hard time holding back his own orgasm. The night was so full of excitement that you were both surprised he held on for as long as he did. He was ready to fuck you as soon as he laid his eyes on you in the bar, and everything that came after was pure torture. He was struggling with not succumbing to the temptation, mostly because he was determined to give you even more than he already had. Disappointment was not a factor he was willing to accept.
“Yes, please.” You pleaded, noticing the movements of his fingers become more precise. His free hand rose to your neck, his fingers gently clasping around it to give you a chance to speak up against the action. You were so strung out from the pleasure that you were sure he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would never be able to find a complaint about it. When he was certain you were comfortable with his actions, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, beginning to restrict the blood flow to your head.
You took in a long breath, the burning in the pit of your stomach growing stronger by the second. You let your eyes close to focus on the pleasure, feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. “Come on, angel.” His gentle encouragement was heavenly paired with the movement of his fingers and his hips. You were barely hanging on, and as his hand tightened around your neck again, all of the nerves in your body ignited with a fire that was impossible to contain.
“Jake,” you warned, but the words were weak and the rasp in your voice made it near impossible to hear. He was listening intently though, and he heard it as clear as day. It was nothing but motivation for him, driving him to keep going. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was most concerned with making you feel good. His pleasure came second to yours, and it was not up for debate.
Your head began to spin and your legs started to shake. The earth felt like it was turned upside down and it was spinning out of control. The orgasm tore through you in a violent fashion, but you couldn’t seem to find the energy to voice it to him. He slowly released his hold on your neck and instead moved his hand to the back of your head to hold you upright. You took in a long breath, unsure if you would ever be able to fill your lungs with the air you so desperately needed. “That’s it,” he muttered, slowing his hips slightly to allow you to recover “that’s my girl.” The words send another rush of pleasure through you, extending the climax even further.
You were exhausted, but he was far from done. As you regained some control over your body and mind, he ceased the movement of his fingers. “That was amazing.” You sighed, clearing your throat from the rasp that was still lingering.
“Yeah?” He crooned, a cocky smile on his lips. Once he was sure you were well and fully recovered, he withdrew and used his arm to slide you off of the table. When your feet hit the floor, he wasted no time turning you around and guiding your upper half down towards the table. “You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, the tip of his cock already eagerly resting against your cunt. You let out a mutter of agreement, too tired to speak the words to him. “Just a little bit longer, sweet girl.” He promised, reaching up and twisting your hair into his fist.
With that, he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling amplified even further due to the ghost of your last orgasm. You were extremely sensitive, almost so much so that you questioned if you could keep going. Once he started a steady rhythm and you were pulled back into pleasure, you knew you could. You would do anything to give back the feeling that he was giving you. “Oh, god.” You groaned, the angle in which he was moving already driving you crazy. His hand tightened on your hair, pushing your head further down on the table. Your cheek was pressed against it, but he wasn’t holding you too harshly in fear of hurting you. The legs of the table were rocking with his movement, and as he sped, you feared that it might break under the pressure.
“You take it so good, angel.” He muttered, but he was no longer talking to you; he was so lost in the sex that he had no filter for his thoughts. Anything and everything that came to mind was ultimately spoken, mostly because he could not find the will to hold it back. “Such a good little whore.” You let out a shaky breath, the words settling deep in your stomach, blossoming into the beginning of another orgasm. His free hand raised and his palm came down on your ass with a loud smack. It sent a jolt of pain through you, making you jump under the touch. “Can you give me one more?” He asked, his hips stuttering as he tried his best to keep his composure.
“I don’t know,” you were honest with him, knowing that you would love to comply with every one of his wishes, but also knowing that even the thought of another orgasm was exhausting. Your body was tired, and so was your mind. He was pushing you as far as you could go, but you were more than happy to let him do it.
“I know you can, sweetheart. Just one more.” He said, but it was a plea hidden inside a powerful tone. He needed you to come again, just so he could ensure he gave you as much as he possibly could.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, your body doing all of the decision making for you. The knot in your stomach was tight, and your legs were locked in position to brace yourself for the intensity of the pleasure. The more he spoke to you, the more certain you felt about being unable to withstand another climax. Then again, you were sure he could convince you of anything if he was using the same sultry tone of voice.
“That’s it, baby.” He reinforced the idea, hoping you would submit to the feeling and stop worrying.
“I can’t,” you shook your head against his grip, knowing that you were long past your limit, even if your body was trying to convince you otherwise. The feeling of him inside you was so good that it was nearly painful, and your entire body was ablaze with overstimulation. He let his hand come down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room and making home in the walls, permanently cementing the memory there. Neither of you would ever be able to look at the room the same way after such a filthy display was made in it.
“You can,” he pressed, not liking the disobedient attitude. He continued on with the steady movement of his hips, and before you knew it, you descended into a whole new type of pleasure below him. Your entire body seemed to give out from underneath you. Your legs were vibrating and tears were forming in your eyes as a slur of moans and curses fell from your lips. He slipped his arm underneath your hips, holding you up so there was no fear of you falling. Your walls were clenched around him, and you thought that the intensity alone would kill you. “Fuck, y/n.” He hissed, absolutely smitten by the state of you.
His own orgasm came harshly, sending him into a similar state of euphoria. His movements stuttered, and he was holding you up while trying not to topple over himself. Eventually, once you both seemed to relax, he slowed his hips to a near stop. He looked down at the sight, his jaw clenched as he fucked his release back into you. He was almost disappointed that the fun had come to an end, but he knew that you were much too tired to continue on. Carefully, he withdrew from you while continuing to hold you steady. “You okay, sweetheart?” The concern in his voice was astounding.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to open. You were so tired that you could have fallen asleep standing there, and your body was aching from the nights excitement.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly, so different from the way he was speaking to you only moments before. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you off the table. When you were steady on your feet, he let his hand fall on your lower back in a gentle embrace, full of concern and care. He guided you to the bathroom where you both cleaned yourself and erased any evidence from the sinful experience you had engaged in. When you were finished, you returned to the kitchen and made a move to grab your dress. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, watching you with curiosity.
“Getting my clothes so I can go home.” You answered, but the sleepiness was making it hard to formulate the words.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, walking to meet you. He grabbed the dress from your hand and tossed it back on the floor before nudging you in the direction of his bedroom. “There’s no way I’m letting you get in a cab like that. I can take you home tomorrow.”
“I’m okay,” you tried to argue, but you were melting into the warm touch of his hands.
“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He said, making sure you knew that he would not allow you to leave. “I’m not putting you in a taxi with a stranger while you’re this drunk and tired. Who knows what could happen.” He mumbled, the second part was more to himself than anything else. It almost seemed as if he was ashamed of caring so deeply.
“You’re a stranger, Jake.” You reminded him, but your eyes landed on the bed and you immediately felt a change of heart. It was screaming with coziness, the blankets and pillows more inviting than anything you’d ever seen before.
“Don’t think you can call me a stranger anymore, sweetheart.” He laughed, opening his dresser to grab you a t-shirt to sleep in. He tossed it on the bed so you could grab it, which you did while uttering a small thank you. You slipped it over your head, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming and oddly comforting. You pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, your eyes immediately closing in bliss. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He said, the sound causing you to crack an eye open in surprise.
“What?” You asked, baffled at his statement. “No, you can… I mean, if you want to… I don’t think it’s fair if I get the bed and you get the couch.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess, and your thoughts were just the same. “I can stay on the couch, or we can both… yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or if it was because he was hot, but you were flustered and apparently, no good at hiding it.
“You’re sure you’re with me being in bed, too?” He didn’t speak a word about your nervous rambling. He didn’t want to embarrass you further, and in truth, he didn’t really care. He was only concerned about your comfort.
“Yeah.” You assured him. “Like you said, not really strangers anymore.” You laughed.
“That’s true.” He nodded, slipping on a pair of boxers and climbing under the covers, too. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.
“Pushing it.” You said, but humour was clear in your tone.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” He laughed as you relaxed against him.
And sleep you did, carelessly and peacefully, unknowing and uncaring about the world of trouble you had created in just one small lapse of judgement. The morning would come and your senses would return, but it was far too late to stop the situation from descending into the chaos you were so desperate to avoid. His web was spun, and you were caught, even if neither of you were aware of the mistakes you had made that inevitably landed you there. The first deadly sin was committed, soon to be followed by six more, and not even a confession nor repenting could save you from your own wrongdoings.
TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik
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katherines-imagines · 1 year ago
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“Stupid bitches, be stupid bitches.”
pairings: hazel callahan x reader
warnings: angst, fighting, mean PJ, bad writing
summary: PJ starts yelling at Hazel, but her girlfriends not having it.
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A meeting was called for the fight club after their revenge on Jef. As the girls started coming in, each had a mischievous yet proud smile adorning their faces. Y/N walked towards the back where her girlfriend, Hazel, was saving a seat for her. Sitting down, Y/N took Hazel’s hand into her own, playing with her silver rings. When everyone arrived, PJ began to speak.
“Alright, well, some of us clearly have a different definition of egging.” The girls gave each other knowing looks. “But if we keep our mouth shut, stay calm, we’ll be fine,” PJ finished.
“They’re gonna shut us down, aren’t they,” Sylvie asked sadly.
“What,” PJ laughed nervously. “No, we don’t know that. Why-”
“Principal Meyers will believe whatever Jeff and Tim say,” Brittany pointed out. “I don’t really see how we recover from this.” She was right, and all the girls knew it. As much as they could hope that the club would continue, after their little stunt, the club would be shut down.
“Man. Fuck,” Sylvie sad dejectedly.
“It’s been real guys,” Hazel said, looking bittersweetly to the group. Her girlfriend lovingly tracing her hands, nodding in agreement.
“Okay,” PJ interrupted. “Let’s not jump to conclusions with the, goodbyes,” she waved her arms around.
“I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” Hazel said, ignoring PJ. Y/N’s heart felt heavy from the break up for the group. These were her friends. This was her safe space. Now it would end, but she didn’t regret joining at all, and that made it all the more bittersweet.
“I’m like,” Sylvie started while standing up. “At least we went out with a bang,” Sylvie referred to the bomb Hazel made, causing the group to laugh sans PJ and Josie. “I mean, that was fucking insane!” The group laughed louder. “It’s just like, fire, everywhere” she continued, playfully hitting the girls.
“Wait, wh, stop,” PJ stuttered. “We don’t, wait, no, we don’t know that for sure,” PJ tried to deny, but the girls had already accepted it.
“PJ,” Annie stopped her with a sad smile. “Don’t be sad it’s over. Be happy it happened,” she smiled towards the fight club members, them smiling back.
“Alright, can everyone calm the fuck down please,” PJ said exasperatingly. “The club is not over, Josie? Right?” PJ motioned to her best friend, a hand motioning in her direction. Josie kept silent, PJ turning in disbelief at the lack of answer.
“No matter what,” Isabel started. “This club has brought me so much. I feel..” She took a deep breath before continuing. “So much more powerful, and, protected.”
“Me too,” Josie agreed, eyes showing vulnerability like the rest of the girls. PJ let out a sarcastic laugh
“Great,” PJ said. Hazel, tired of her attitude, interrupted her.
“Oh my god PJ, okay,” Hazel stood abruptly, her hand leaving Y/N’s grasp, causing her to jump at the sudden movement. “I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of this group, but I think the rest of us did.” She motioned towards the girls with a smile.
“Oh,” PJ spoke sarcastically. “Good for fucking you Hazel.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, not liking how PJ was speaking to her girlfriend. “I’m glad that you finally wrote one email. Accomplished a lot.”
“I actually did, I practically ran this club for you and Josie,” Hazel said frustratedly. Y/N nodded harshly in support.
“Let’s calm down, maybe,” Josie said, trying to deescalate the situation, but it was too late for that.
“You really think that your the reason that we have this club,” PJ asked rudely.
“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want,” Hazel shot back. The girls heads snapped to Hazel at the comment, none of them expecting Hazel to have a mean bone in her body. Y/N stood up next to her girlfriend, hand going to the small of her back in support. As much as Y/N wanted to tear PJ a new one, she knew that Hazel had to do this part, at least, by herself.
“Hazel, uh hey, let’s calm down,” Josie said to Hazel. Y/N glared at Josie. Clearly PJ was the one who needed to calm down, not Hazel.
“You’re really ungrateful,” PJ snapped at her. “You’re so lucky that we even let you be a part of this.” How dare PJ try and glorify herself?
“PJ, your a liar.” A silence followed after Hazel’s retort, eyes turning to PJ for an explanation. PJ scoffed in disbelief.
“Yeah, well,” PJ started. Y/N had a feeling that the next few words that would come out of PJ’s mouth would make Y/N’s patience snap. “You have no friends, and a skank as a mom, so,” PJ smiled maliciously, as Josie looked at her feet. As the girls stared quietly, Y/N yelled at PJ.
“How dare you say that? She has friends, and you have no right so say something so atrocious to her,” Y/N said angrily, while Hazel stared in disbelief at PJ. Before Y/N could continue, Hazel looked at her friends in pain before picking up her stuff. Y/N followed Hazel’s lead, picking up her and her girlfriend’s stuff before following Hazel down the bleachers. Before leaving the gym, Y/N went to PJ’s face and spoke coldly, “If you every say shit like that again, I’ll fuck you up. Don’t you ever, disrespect her.” Shoving PJ with her shoulder, Y/N followed Hazel out the gym. While the rest of the girls watched them leave, Josie calling out for Hazel. When Y/N caught up to Hazel’s fast walking, she stayed quite. After a few minutes of walking quietly, Hazel spoke softly.
“What did you say, hun,” Y/N asked softly, not hearing what Hazel had said.
“Could you please hold my hand,” she shakily asked, quiet tears streaming down her face. Instead of answering, Y/N simply took Hazel’s hand in her own, comfortingly rubbing her thumb across her girlfriend’s hand. They walked in silence before Y/N spoke up.
“She’s a bitch.” Hazel let out a startled laugh of disbelief. “And not even a good one like me,” Y/N added, hesitantly looking at Hazel to see if it was ok to talk. Hazel laughed quietly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Y/N stopped the pair, Hazel looking curiously for the reason why. Y/N dropped their bags and took of her jacket, using the sleeve to wipe Hazel’s tears before putting it on Hazel. When Y/N picked up their bags, she took Hazel’s hand and continued to walk. “Don’t listen to her Haze. You know what they say about girls like her?” Y/N waiting until Hazel hummed in question.
“Stupid bitches, be stupid bitches.”
Hazel laughed loudly, hugging Y/N’s arm to stop her from falling.
“Y/N,” Hazel laughed.
“Hazel,” Y/N responded seriously. Well, semi-seriously. She couldn’t help the small smile growing on her mouth. Sighing gratefully, Hazel tugged on Y/N’s arm to stop.
“Thank you, love,” Hazel said, looking into Y/N’s eyes with love. Y/N swore she could feel her heart melt, warmth filling her up.
“Of course, pretty girl,” Y/N spoke softly, hugging her girlfriend tightly. Y/N was not going to let PJ get away with this.
No one spoke to her girl like that.
a/n: first imagine since I came back! if you have any requests from any fandom, please let me know. if I know the fandom, I will try and do it! Hope you guys like this one as much as I did.
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worth-the-chaos · 11 months ago
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14
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Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?
Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing
Word Count: 6.0k
Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!
Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part
***
“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.
To save you.
A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.
“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.
“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?
“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”
Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.
“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.
“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.
“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.
“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”
“And why now?” You added.
“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.
“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”
You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”
“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.
“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:
Hope.
You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.
“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.
“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.
“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.
“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.
“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”
“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.
“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.
“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”
“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.
“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.
“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.
“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”
“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.
“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.
“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.
“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.
“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.
“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.
“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”
“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.
“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.
With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.
“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.
You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.
I’m still here.
***
Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.
You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.
Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.
“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.
“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.
“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”
You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.
Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”
It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.
“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”
“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.
“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.
“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.
“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”
The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.
After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.
“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“
“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.
“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”
Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.
You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.
He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.
“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”
Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.
When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.
“Y/n.”
***
Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.
“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.
“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.
“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”
Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.
“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.
“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.
“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”
His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.
“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.
“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.
Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”
“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.
“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.
The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.
It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.
“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.
In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.
“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.
“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.
You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.
You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.
Towards home.
Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.
“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.
You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.
He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.
You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.
***
You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.
“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.
“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.
“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”
“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”
As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.
“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck is she?!”
“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”
His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.
“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.
“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”
You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”
“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”
“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”
“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”
“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.
Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.
“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.
“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.
“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”
“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.
“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.
“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”
“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.
He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.
“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.
“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.
You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.
***
a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose
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vintageshanny · 5 months ago
Text
Show and Tell
Content: This is a smutty/fluffy one-shot inspired by pictures of Elvis crouched down on stage next to fans. 😉 18+
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As Elvis started the opening notes of “Love Me Tender,” Debra jumped up as if on cue and rushed toward the stage, possibly elbowing a few other women out of the way. She was determined not to miss out like last night.
Elvis was making his way down the front of the stage, stopping every couple seconds to lean down and give out kisses. Right as she squeezed herself through the crowd to the edge of the stage, he looked right at her and made eye contact. He crouched down in front of her, his legs spread open while he rested his arms on them. Debra found herself face to face with the inseam of his pants. Each stitch seemed strained, struggling to contain his broad thighs and his…. Debra forced her gaze upward from his crotch to see that his stormy blue eyes were twinkling, and a knowing smirk had spread across his face.
“What’s on your mind, honey?” Elvis teased, noting the way her emerald green halter top draped over her chest.
Debra bit down on her lower lip, her nerves almost getting the better of her. This is the only chance you get. She forced her mouth to form the words. “I just want to show you how special and loved you are.” She let her eyes wander over his body again and back up to his face.
Elvis blushed and chuckled, responding right into the microphone. “I’ll tell ya honey, we might have ta save that for after the show. W-would ya settle for a kiss right now?”
Debra grinned and nodded, leaning forward over the edge of the stage as Elvis got down on one knee and dipped his head toward her. She reached up and rested her hand gently on his thigh as their lips touched. He tasted so soft and sweet. His lips parted ever so slightly as he pulled back, his warm breath mixing with hers. He grabbed her hand from his thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
“Ya tryin’ ta get me riled up in front of all these people?” This time he moved the microphone away from his mouth, giving her a wink before he stood and moved along down the line of women, each hoping for her own private moment with him.
Debra ignored the dirty looks some women were giving her as she returned to her seat. She felt like she was on cloud nine - she had gotten a kiss, touched his body, and - best of all - made him laugh!
I guess I can die happy… Debra settled back into her seat and watched Elvis quietly conferring with someone toward the back of the stage before starting the next song. This is what heaven feels like…
As Debra floated out of the showroom, her body still buzzing with the excitement of the evening, she spotted two men in sunglasses whispering and gesturing toward her.
“I’m tellin’ ya that’s her,” one of them grumbled, advancing toward her. “Hey honey, would ya like ta meet Elvis?”
“Oh, um,” Debra stammered, wincing a little bit at being called “honey” by this strange man and wondering if she should trust that he worked for Elvis. A vision of herself being led into a dark alley flashed through her mind before she noticed he was wearing a very expensive-looking pendant with Elvis’ TCB logo.
“We’ll just tell him you’re not interested,” the shorter of the two men declared, clearly growing impatient with her indecision.
“No, no, I’ll go.” It’s an adventure at least, right? Debra thought to herself, hoping for the best.
“Good.” Joe turned abruptly, indicating for her to follow. He knew his ass would be handed to him if he came back without this girl. Elvis rarely zeroed in on a specific girl in the crowd, but when he wanted something, he really wanted it. “No party, just the girl in the green shirt,” he’d instructed.
Debra followed the men into the elevator and up to the top floor. She wondered if this is how call girls felt - being led into a world you didn’t belong in. They walked down a plushly carpeted hallway and stopped in front of an unmarked door. The taller, heavier man did a little tapping rhythm and waited for a response, which was so faint Debra couldn’t make any words out. The men seemed to understand though and opened the door, closing it behind her as she nervously stumbled alone into a blast of air conditioning.
Elvis was sitting alone on a couch in the middle of the room, still wearing his sweaty jumpsuit, his head tilted back against the pillows. Debra anxiously straightened her navy blue miniskirt and made sure her halter top wasn’t revealing anything that shouldn’t be revealed. Then she walked quietly toward the couch, unsure if Elvis even realized she was in the room with him.
Debra sat down gingerly next to him and cleared her throat. “Um, you wanted to see me?” she whispered hoarsely, her voice seeming to vanish with most of her courage.
Elvis lifted his head and looked at her. He looked exhausted, but a broad grin spread across his face as his eyes drifted down to her green top. “Honey, you’re a sight for sore eyes!”
Debra’s insides quivered as the word “honey” rolled off his tongue.
“Y’know, I wasn’t gonna see nobody tonight cuz I’ve been a bit under the weather, but your offer made me reconsider.”
“My offer?” Debra repeated, confused. To be fair, her head was swimming from being this close to him, drinking in his aura.
“Weren’t ya gonna show me somethin’?” Elvis’ eyes twinkled mischievously as he prodded for a response. “Somethin’ about lovin’ on me, showin’ me how special I am?” He let out a big, uninhibited laugh at the sight of Debra’s face turning pink. “Honey, I’m jus’ playin’ around. I don’t expect nothin’ from ya. Just wanted ta talk. Gets lonely up here sometimes.” Debra sensed that “up here” did not mean in the penthouse, but in whatever stratosphere Elvis resided in.
“Well, I did mean what I said,” Debra whispered, trying to will her face to cool down. “But I just didn’t think I’d get the chance. I didn’t think you’d really notice me.”
“Honey, I see a lot from up on that stage, but the sight of ya bouncin’ down toward me will stick in my mind for a good long time.” He reached out and traced a finger over her collarbone, sending a shiver through her. She knew without looking that her hardened nipples were now on full display through the thin material of the halter top. Elvis laughed again as her blush returned. “What’s your name, honey?”
Debra cleared her throat and tried to regain her confidence as she announced her name, but the word “Debra” just sent Elvis into more hysterics.
“Oh honey, you’re too much. Debra. It should be no-bra.” Elvis could barely regain his composure, and Debra started giggling in spite of her embarrassment. His fits of laughter were contagious.
“Elvis, that’s not funny,” she protested through tears of laughter.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Elvis panted, finally pulling himself together. “D-Debra honey, I wanna talk some more, but let me put on somethin’ more comfortable, okay? I gotta get out of this sweaty jumpsuit.”
Debra nodded and watched as he rose from the couch and disappeared into what she assumed was his bedroom. She was dying to barge right in and peel that sweaty jumpsuit off of him herself, but she didn’t want to invade his privacy. Debra smiled when he returned wearing a pair of navy blue pajamas.
“I guess you weren’t kidding about getting comfortable, hmm?” She laughed. “Now I feel overdressed.”
Elvis’ mischievous grin returned in full force. “Honey, don’t let me stop ya from changin’ that. You’re certainly welcome ta under-dress yourself.”
It’s now or never, Debra thought, somehow summoning a superhuman confidence as she kicked off her platform heels and rose from the couch.
“If you say so.” Her voice came out in a husky tone as she unzipped her miniskirt and let it drop to the floor. Elvis’ eyes widened as he sank back down on the couch and watched her. She reached behind her neck and untied the straps of her halter top, the shimmery green fabric fluttering down, her breasts now on full display for him.
“Oh damn honey, I guess you really are a woman of your word.” Elvis could feel his body responding as he looked at her standing before him in just her lacy panties. “Cuz I feel very special right now.”
“You should.” Debra straddled his lap and leaned in close to his ear as his hands caressed her bare body. “Because I don’t do this for just anyone.” She kissed those soft sweet lips again, their tongues intertwining as she started unbuttoning his pajamas, letting her hands memorize every inch of his chest and torso before moving down lower. Elvis moaned into her mouth as she slipped her hand inside his pajama bottoms, feeling that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “I guess neither one of us is a fan of undergarments,” she teased.
Elvis half-laughed, half-moaned as she started pumping him with her hand. “I-I-I jus’ wanted ta give ya easy access to show me what was on your mind before, honey.”
“You want me to show you? This is what was on my mind.” Debra slid off his lap and down between his legs, pulling his dick out of his pajamas, touching her lips to the wet tip of it before pulling back to really appreciate the view in front of her, the way his foreskin had rolled back to reveal the sensitive head just begging for some affection.
“Oh God honey, don’t tease me. Kiss me some more,” Elvis moaned as she pressed her lips to him again, this time letting her tongue swirl around and taste the arousal leaking out of him.
“You taste so good,” she whispered, wrapping her lips around him and taking him in as deep as she could. Elvis reached down and played with her nipples while she sucked on him, letting out little groans of satisfaction. Suddenly his head tilted back and his breath started hitching. He jerked his hips up and she felt him pulsing in her mouth, his cum spurting out.
“Oh shit, honey, that felt so good.” Elvis leaned back against the couch, too spent to even tuck his goods back in his pants. Debra took the opportunity to straddle him again, enjoying the feeling of his softening dick rubbing against her most sensitive spot through her wet panties.
“Honey, I can take care of you, too,” Elvis whispered, already half-asleep.
“Shh, this was about you right now,” Debra soothed, holding him close and running her hands through his dark hair, their bare chests pressed against each other. “You are special and loved.”
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months ago
Text
A little help from my friend -Oneshot
@talesofreading I'm sorry it took me so long to get this done for you! I hope you like it. Happy belated birthday darling. Word count: 3880
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“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grunted as she walked into the Avengers communal kitchen and common room area.  She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a protein drink and some food to make a quick breakfast.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wanda piped up from the kitchen table.  The other Avengers were all milling about, getting their own breakfasts before heading out or training.  Y/N had an early morning training with the recruits most days, so she often missed the communal breakfast meals.
“Nothing,” Y/N sighed.
“Don’t make me read your mind,” Wanda warned.
Y/N glared at her, and Wanda glared back.  Their conversation got the attention of the other Avengers in the area.  “It’s not a big deal,” Y/N continued.  “One of the new recruits is just a little…too interested in me personally,” she said, turning back to the counter.
Wanda frowned.  “What happened?”
Steve, Sam and Bucky all listened carefully, slowly eating their breakfasts.  Y/N was suddenly very aware of everyone in the area.  “It’s really not a big deal–”
“It is if it’s bothering you, Y/N,” Steve spoke up, all Captain America at that moment.  “Especially if it’s affecting your job or you feeling safe.”
Y/N smiled at him appreciatively.  “I can handle myself, Cap,” she said.  
“Never said you couldn’t,” he retorted.  “But if we can nip it in the bud with this recruit–”
“He just keeps asking for my number, okay?” Y/N said, waving away everyone’s concern.  “And…cornering me after training.  It’s fine.  I can handle it,” she said, finishing preparing her food and cleaning up after herself.
“What’s his name?” Bucky asked.
Everyone turned to him in surprise.  Y/N had worked with him multiple times on missions and talked with him regularly, becoming good friends, but this still surprised her.  Bucky rarely joined the conversation unless prompted.  He was very low key and kept to himself most of the time.  So him looking at her with such an intense look and asking a question was a shock.  She stared at him with wide eyes.  “Tyler,” she replied.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “Whitacre,” she finished.  
Bucky nodded and looked down, finishing his breakfast.  Nobody said a word as Y/N quickly gathered her food and left the kitchen.  She shook her head at herself once she reached her room to eat then shower.  She’d been growing some pretty strong feelings toward Bucky for a while now, but tamped them down deep in her heart.  He didn’t need some lovesick coworker to deal with.  He just needed friends as he integrated into regular life.  There was no way he’d feel the same toward her…would he?
***
“Today we’ll be starting gun training,” Y/N announced to her training group.  There was an excited whispered chatter from the recruits at her words.  “I could teach you myself, but I thought I’d bring in the expert of all experts in this field.  I expect you to shut up, listen, and give him the respect he deserves.  Our guest trainer is Sergeant Barnes.”
Bucky was already walking into the training room as she introduced him, his face hard and stoic as it always was in these environments.  The recruits clapped for him as he stood next to Y/N.  “Thank you, Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted her then turned to the recruits.  “Let’s see what you got.”
After a rigorous training, where Bucky really broke down a few recruits and built them back up, each of their shots getting better by the end, they all left exhausted.  Bucky stayed behind, cleaning up the guns used for the training with Y/N when Tyler approached her.  “Hey Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her far too close for her liking.  
“Agent Whitacre,” she greeted him, giving him a polite but tight smile.  “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Ah come on, Y/N, I told you to call me Tyler,” he smirked at her.
“And I told you to call me Agent Y/L/N,” she replied, her eyes narrowing in warning.
Tyler’s face had a flash of annoyance before his smirk came back.  “Right.  Well, you ran off last time before I got a chance to ask you–”
“Once again, Agent, I’m flattered, but no thank you,” Y/N said hastily, turning away and closing another case of guns.  “I’ll see you next training.”
Tyler followed her as she walked away to the locker room to put the case away in the gun lockers.  She carefully put things away and turned to find him cornering her.  “Don’t be like that Y/N…” he started, taking another step toward her, his arms reaching up to cage her against the wall.
A loud bang made them both jump as Tyler whipped around to see Bucky who had set down another gun case sharply, glaring at Tyler.  He slowly approached, his eyes never leaving Tyler like he was hunting him.  He swerved around him at the last second, making Tyler flinch, then focused on Y/N as he inserted himself between them.  He reached his metal hand out and wrapped it around the back of her neck, angling her head up as he leaned down and kissed her deeply.  Y/N inhaled sharply, stiffening against him as she heard Tyler scoff.  The kiss ended too soon, Y/N barely kissing him back before Bucky pulled away and looked down at her.  “You good, Sweets?” he asked quietly, but just loud enough for Tyler to hear.
“Yeah,” Y/N whispered, staring up at him in shock.
Bucky looked her over then turned to Tyler, keeping himself as a shield in front of Y/N.  “Respect the no, recruit,” he said lowly.  “And your form is shit.  Work on that before next time or I’ll make an example of you in front of everyone.”
Tyler swallowed harshly, his lips tight and his eyes wide as he minutely nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said.  He glanced at Y/N then walked quickly out of the locker room, running once he’d got past the door frame.
Bucky watched him leave, then turned back to Y/N.  He had an unreadable expression as they stared at each other for what felt like forever.  “Just tell me if he bothers you anymore,” he said, then turned and left.
Y/N stared after him incredulously.  Her fingers lifted to her mouth, his kiss still searing on her lips, the feeling of his metal fingers holding her firmly but gently on the back of her neck as his thumb caressed her jaw tingling her skin.  What the fuck just happened?
***
The gun training lasted two more training sessions, and every time at the end of class Bucky would linger behind with Y/N to clean up, then make a small show of kissing her in front of Tyler as he was leaving.  It took her by surprise each time, Bucky coming from seemingly nowhere and with no preamble, just kissing the living daylights out of her, calling her “Sweets,” then walking away like nothing happened.  Once the gun training was over Tyler didn’t even look her way anymore unless he had to.  So Bucky’s little plan had worked, but now Y/N was confused.  And worse, she craved him even more.
Three weeks later Y/N and Bucky were on a mission together.  It was surveillance on a potential target that was dealing in high power weaponry.  Y/N and Bucky had barely spoken to each other since that last gun training, exchanging brief greetings and farewells as they passed each other in the hallway.  The other Avengers had given some side-eyed looks, since Y/N and Bucky had normally been pretty friendly before, but no one commented on it otherwise.  Now she was stuck with him in close quarters for the next week as they gathered as much information about the target as possible.
She woke up from her turn sleeping, getting ready for the day and approaching Bucky who was sitting by the window in the small apartment they were staying in.  He hadn’t moved from the spot since she’d gone to bed hours before.  “Anything?” she asked quietly.  
“Another prostitute,” Bucky replied, standing and stretching as she took his place by the window.  “Otherwise nothing worth noting.”
“How lovely,” Y/N scoffed.  She got herself comfortable and looked through the scope Bucky had propped on the windowsill.  The view into the opposite apartment where the target stayed was pristine.  “He didn’t leave the blinds open, did he?” she asked, looking up at him.
“He did,” Bucky grimaced.  
“Jesus,” Y/N winced.  “You got quite the show.”
“Not really.  He only lasted about two minutes.”
Y/N laughed loudly at that.  “Poor girl,” she giggled, wiping her eyes and looking through the scope again.  “At least she was paid.”
Bucky chuckled and started walking towards the bedroom.  “Let me know if anything changes, Sweets.”
Y/N stiffened and before she could stop herself she grunted, “Don’t call me that.”
Bucky stopped and looked back at her.  Y/N kept her gaze in the scope, her face flushing with embarrassment.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  But who did he think he was to use the same pet name that he’d used in a fake “situationship” to help her get away from some creep and then use it in everyday life?  Like he hadn’t rocked her world three times over?  She heard his footsteps come back towards her, then the shuffle of his clothes as he kneeled down beside her.  “Why not?” he asked.
Y/N breathed heavily, trying to calm her thundering heart.  She kept her gaze in the scope, her hands tightening to fists in her lap.  “No one to save me from,” she said nonchalantly.
Bucky suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her to face him.  She gasped lightly as he manhandled her, moving so he was kneeling between her legs, bringing his face close to hers and taking her hands in his.  His eyes were piercing as he stared at her.  “That’s not it,” he said.  “Tell me why not?”
Y/N blinked rapidly.  “That is the reason,” she whispered.
Bucky shook his head.  “I can tell when people lie, Sweets.  Try again.”
Y/N shut her eyes tight.  “Please stop calling me that.”
She felt Bucky’s metal fingers caress her cheek and back into her hair, holding her head like he did when he kissed her.  She fought back the shiver at the coolness of metal, not wanting to give away just how badly she wanted this man.  Y/N heard and felt his breath fanning her face as he leaned in closer.  His nose brushed along her cheek, his lips ghosting close to the side of her lips.  “I can’t, Y/N.  You taste too sweet,” he murmured.
Y/N whimpered, and without warning tears pricked at her eyes.  She shook her head and pushed him away, standing and walking toward the bedroom.  “I can’t do this,” she nearly sobbed.
“Woah, wait, Y/N!” Bucky called out to her.  She tried closing and locking the bedroom door but he stopped it with his foot.  “Hey, don’t run away from me,” he grunted, pushing the door back open and looking at her in surprise.  “I’m sorry–”
“Please just leave me alone,” Y/N sighed, wiping her eyes and turning away from him.
“Y/N,” he said, sounding wounded.  “Talk to me.”
“How am I supposed to talk to you?” She was suddenly angry, turning back to face him with a glare.  “You decided the best way to help me with a creepy recruit was to publicly claim me in front of him and who knows how many others by kissing me?  And not just once, but three times?  Calling me a cute pet name?  Do you enjoy giving people false hope and then walking away because it means nothing to you?  And expect us to go back to normal?  What the fuck, Barnes?”
Bucky recoiled at her using his last name.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “I…I should have talked to you beforehand, and not just done it.  That wasn’t fair, I’m sorry.”  Y/N crossed her arms, holding herself as she fought back more tears.  He took a step closer.  “And then I was a coward and didn’t talk to you about it afterwards, either.  God, I’m an idiot,” he grumbled, running his flesh hand over his face harshly.  “I…I really like you, Y/N.  I’m sorry I went about this totally wrong.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Y/N stared at him for a long moment then nodded.  “Thank you.  I forgive you,” she said.  
Bucky watched her sadly.  “Can I…can we start over?” he asked hopefully.
Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile spreading on her lips.  “Sure,” she said.  
He smiled and stepped toward her again.  He took a deep breath and licked his lips.  “I like you, as much more than just a friend.”
“I like you, too,” Y/N said quickly.
Bucky’s smile widened.  “Once we get home, can I take you out on a proper date?”
“Yes,” she said.
***
A week later they were coming home from a proper, successful date.  Bucky was quite the gentleman, taking her to a nice restaurant in the city, then a solo night tour (probably courtesy of Tony) through The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They grabbed some dessert on the way home, talking the whole time as they snacked on the treat.  Bucky had kept a hand on her at all times, whether it was on her back as he guided her around or holding her hand as they walked.  They got off the elevator and Bucky walked her to her bedroom door.  
“Thank you for going out with me,” he said, standing toe to toe with her.
“Thank you,” Y/N said.  “I’ve never had such a fun first date.”
“Really?  Wow, I’ll have to up the ante next time,” Bucky smirked, his flesh hand reaching up and playing with the tips of her hair.
“Next time?” Y/N arched her eyebrow.  “You seem very sure of yourself.”
“I am,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “But of course I’m a gentleman.”
“Of course,” Y/N teased.
“So…would you like to go out with me again?” he asked, his forehead resting against her forehead.  
Y/N pretended to think about it.  “Mmh, I’ll have to check my schedule, so for now it’s a tentative yes,” she smirked back at him.  
Bucky narrowed his eyes, his fingers moving from her hair to her jaw, tracing it lightly.  “A tentative yes?” he grumbled.  “I know you like to tease, but I’m gonna need an enthusiastic yes, Sweets.”
Y/N’s eyes slightly widened at the pet name.  He hadn’t called her that since they got back from the mission, and she actually missed hearing it from him.  She nodded.  “Yes, I’d like to go out with you again,” she reassured him.  
His smirk returned.  “Good girl, Sweets,” he said.  Y/N felt a shiver down her spine at his words.  His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.  “Can I kiss you?”
Y/N nodded.  “Yes.”
Bucky’s metal hand gripped her by the back of the neck like the other times, his metal thumb sweeping over her cheek.  He leaned down and kissed her softly, not as firmly or passionately as the other times.  It was like he was trying to reassure her that this was real, and he wanted more than brief sexual tension.  And as much as she appreciated that, she craved what he’d given her before.  Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she gripped his shirt under his jacket, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  Bucky moaned against her mouth at her urgency.
“I’m trying to be, mmh, a gentleman, Sweets,” he groaned, pulling away and lightly pecking her lips repeatedly.
“You can be a gentleman and fuck me at the same time,” Y/N mumbled.
Bucky huffed a sharp breath, like her words sucked the air right out of him and he sagged against her, pushing her into her bedroom door.  “Fuck, Y/N, you can’t say that to me,” he growled.  “God, you drive me fucking crazy.”
Y/N smiled as she kissed from his lips down to his neck.  “Your room or mine, handsome?”
Bucky moaned again and dipped down, picking her up and holding her by her thighs.  He turned around to his bedroom door that was across the hall and marched towards it as he kissed her deeply again.  He ripped the door open and kicked it shut behind them before pinning her against the door.  His knee pushed under her core to keep her lifted as his hands slid to her ass, feeling the cheeks of her ass as he opened his mouth, his tongue licking her lower lip and sucking on it.  Y/N shuddered and whimpered against his mouth.  Bucky gasped at the first noise he was able to pull from her.  “Let me hear you, Sweets.  God, you’re so good.”  His tongue plunged back into her mouth, tasting her tongue and moaning again.  “You feel so good…sound so good…taste so good,” he breathed.  
Y/N moaned at the rushed desperation in his movements.  Feeling so wanted, so needed, was making her lightheaded and feel like she was beaming.  Her hands moved to cup his face, scratching his beard then reaching up into his hair, scratching down his scalp.  That pulled a deep growl from his chest, his hips rutting up into her.  She hummed, smiling against his lips.  Bucky pulled her away from the door and carried her to his bed, laying her on it gently as he shrugged his jacket off.  
It was a flurry of clothes being pulled off and flung into corners of his room, limbs clambering over each other as they moved further up onto the bed, huffed gasps and whimpers.  Bucky nipped at her throat as he felt how wet and ready she was for him.  “Protection?” he asked.
“No,” Y/N shook her head, her nails scratching down his back.
Bucky smiled against the skin of her shoulder.  He aimed his cock at her entrance and started to slowly push inside.  Y/N’s head wrenched back and she gasped at the fill and stretch of him, and Bucky tucked his face into her breasts as her back arched, kissing and licking her nipples to help ease her.  “Fucking hell, Sweets,” he swore, looking up at her as she relaxed back into the bed when she was adjusted to him.  He gave her the first roll of his hips, making her tremble beneath him.  “So responsive,” he smirked.  
“Kinda hard not to be, with all this above me,” Y/N breathed, her hands sliding up his chest.  “You live up to your name, handsome.”  Bucky blushed, smiling bashfully at her.  “Aw, you’re so cute,” Y/N cooed at him, her hands reaching up to his face and pulling him down to kiss him sweetly.  “I’ll have to compliment you more often.”
Bucky’s hips thrusted again and her mouth dropped open in a silent moan.  “Quit teasing,” he said, licking into her mouth.  “As much as I love your flirty compliments, I really need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”
“Then fuck me!” Y/N said, rubbing her nose along his cheek.  “Please!”
Bucky inhaled deeply then started pummeling his hips into her.  Y/N’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on tight as he held her in a hug so her body wouldn’t be pushed up the bed at his thrusts.  He sucked and licked at her neck repeatedly, pulling more wanton moans from her at the mix of pain and pleasure, leaving as much bruising evidence for later as possible.  He kissed his way back up to her mouth where she easily opened up to him, their tongues swirling and nipping at each other’s lips.  It was never-ending and yet too short all at the same time as Y/N tried not to get lost in her head at the blinding pleasure.  Y/N sucked on his tongue and Bucky adjusted his position to snap his hips slightly more upward, which had her keening against his mouth.  “There it is,” he smirked, then continued his previous, frantic pace in that new direction.  He was hitting that deep spot inside every time, Y/N’s breaths becoming more short and hyperventilated as her head thrashed back and forth at the overwhelming pressure building in her gut.
“Buck…handsome, I’m gonna cum…ah!” Y/N yelped as Bucky sat up, his flesh fingers strumming her clit as his metal hand held her at the back of her neck like the other times he’d kissed her, but this time his grip was tighter, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck.  He forced her head up to meet him halfway as he pushed their foreheads together.  
“Cum all over my cock, Sweets.  Let me feel you,” Bucky growled, staring deep into her eyes.  Y/N gasped again at his words, then finally felt the snap deep in her belly.  She screamed as she came, her hands gripping his biceps and her legs shaking over his hips as her pussy clamped down on him.  Bucky grunted, his eyes shutting tight as he continued thrusting, prolonging her orgasm as his fingers never let up on her clit.  “That’s it, fuck!” Bucky hissed between gritted teeth.  “Where can I cum, Sweets?”
“Anywhere you want,” Y/N huffed, her body still twitching with aftershocks.  She was so close to cumming again.  
“Holy shit, dirty girl, huh?” Bucky asked excitedly.  “You feel so good, I’m just gonna fill you up.  Is that okay?”
“Yyyyeessss,” Y/N groaned.
“Good girl, Sweets,” he praised her.  His hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust even harder into her pussy, the sharp snaps making her jiggle and shake.  Y/N slipped a hand down and started rubbing her clit, her other hand gripping his wrist.  “Yeah, make yourself feel good.  You gonna cum again?  God, you’re so fucking beautiful, so pretty.  Prettiest pussy, Sweets.”  
Y/N shook harder as she felt her second orgasm barrel through her, her nerves feeling like they were on fire.  When she came Bucky moaned loudly, her pussy squeezing him beyond belief.  He finally came, continuing to thrust and fill her up until it dripped from between them and down their thighs to her ass.  “Bucky…” she huffed.
“Sorry, Sweets, I can’t help it,” Bucky shook above her, his cock still throbbing inside her.  “You squeeze me so good…and the serum makes everything, fuck…” he leaned down so his head rested on her chest.  “Makes everything more intense.”
“It’s okay, handsome,” Y/N smiled, her hands going to his hair and scratching his scalp, softly pulling at the strands.  He hummed at her gentle fingers’ caresses.  “We can just take a shower.”
Bucky hummed again, sounding more gravelly as he looked up at her.  “Dirty girl,” he smirked.
THE END
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ashthewaterghoul · 4 months ago
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Can I get some slightly spicy Mountain/Rain? 🙏🏻
I don't write a lot of spicy stuff so I hope this is okay. It was going to be a few hundred word drabble, but in true Ash fashion, I yapped.
"Good" - A Mountain/Rain One Shot
“Your little innocence act doesn’t work on me, Rain.” Mountain said, his voice finding residence low his throat.     “S- sorry, sir, I didn’t-“     “Didn’t what? Didn’t meant to drag yourself to my kit and start playing? I thought you were going to be good for me?” Mountain taunted, standing behind Rain and encasing him in his shadow.     “No! I am! I am good! Please, I’ll show you-“ Rain went to spin around, but Mountain’s hand locked firmly around his throat and stopped him from moving.
Words: 1452
Tags: Praise k!nk, like a smidge of choking, dom!Mountain, sub!Rain, instrument practice with a happy ending, spoiler it's fade to black bc I'm not up for writing full blown scenes yet but there is plenty of spice to make up for that (I hope), ends on a really corny joke so I'm just going to apologise for that now💀
For the love of Satan, MDNI
~~~
    Water and Earth got along like a house on fire. Water nourished the plants and the Earth carved out spaces for rivers and lakes and ponds. It was a glorious relationship in which they helped each other out.
    The same can be said Mountain and Rain.
    Not only did their Elements call to each other, but Mountain was the one who nutured for Rain after his summoning. Not only was if from necessity, but because Mountain’s stomach dropped at the skinny Water Ghoul shivering in the summoning circle. It ending up a happy coincidence that the two both were in the rhythm section of the Ghost project, and Rain’s spot on stage being one right next to Mountain. They were each other’s everything and often made their appreciation known to each other.
    But right now? Rain was bored.
    In fact, he was starfished out on the music room floor, his bass laying somewhere near to him. He’d been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours as the little squeaks of Mountain’s tuning keys filled the room, where music once had.
    They often had little practice sessions with just the two of them. It was important that drum and bass locked in with each other so their music sounded the best it could. And they were never going to say ‘no’ to a bit of alone time.
    They were just going through the songs from Impera but they weren’t even halfway through Spillways before Mountain stopped, saying something was wrong with his kit. And so Rain sat down to wait. Then he slumped. Then he started lying down.
Read below the cut or on ao3
    After Satan-fuck knows how long, the Earth Ghoul put his hardware down and sighed.
    “Done?” Rain asked, lifting his head and, yes, maybe he had his fingers crossed.
    “Yeah, I gotta go to the bathroom though.” Mountain replied as he stood.
    Rain groaned and flopped around so he was face-first into the ground.
    “So dramatic.” Mountain muttered, his eye-roll practically audible.
    “Fuck you.” Rain said, albeit muffled by the carpet.
    “Maybe later.” Mountain said.
    Rain was about to say something else but his voice was cut off into a groan as Mountain threaded his fingers into Rain’s waves and pulled his head up by his hair.
     “Is this the game we’re playing?” He whispered, low and almost threatening into Rain’s ear, “Because I can take as long as I want in the bathroom. Hell, I could go to the Clergy ones on the other side of the building. After that, maybe I want to try a new layout with my kit. Maybe my drums will fall out of their tuning again as I move them around and I’ll have to fuss with them all over again. So, I’ll ask you again, are we playing this game, Lilypad?”
    Rain’s brain was short-circuiting, and he mentally cursed himself for falling this easily. The two usually loved to fight over who (quite literally) came out on top and earn the submission of the other. But all Rain’s brain could think of right now was wanting to be Mount’s good boy.
    Rain shook his head as much as the strain on his neck would allow, biting back whimpers at the hold Mountain had on his scalp.
    “That won’t do, baby. Words. Let me hear my Syren’s gorgeous voice.” Mountain said in that same husky whisper.
    “No, sir.” Rain replied shakily.
    “Good.” Mountain said, purposefully avoiding the full phrase and gently lowering Rain’s head back down, “Wait in this room until I get back.”
    Rain had no chance to respond before Mountain was out the room. He groaned again as he curled in on himself, internally cursing how responsive his body was to Mount’s brief action. He also cursed himself for wearing the tightest pair of jeans he owned because now they were even tighter.
    He did his best not to palm his bulge, Mountain may not have said it but he knew there was the extra demand of “No touching”. It was always there and Rain didn’t even want to try so much as ghosting his pinky over his zipper. Somehow, Mountain always knew.
    What he didn’t say, however, was that Rain couldn’t move. So, he sat up and groaned as his back ached. There may be a carpet, but it was thinner than Rain’s patience and rough stone floors laid beneath it. As Rain stood, he caught sight of Mountain’s drum stool. He sat down on it and gave a few obligatory spins before facing the kit properly.
Well, Rain was still bored and now he was frustrated too. Mountain had taught Rain some drums over the years and so the Water Ghoul’s deft fingers reached out for the two sticks and started playing the simple grooves, fills and the like that he knew. He lost his shirt at one point and didn’t notice Mountain watching in the doorway.
    “Having fun?” The Earth Ghoul shouted over the noise.
    Rain froze like a deer in headlights and he scurried to put the sticks down where Mountain had left them. The Earth Ghoul chuckled and his unreadable expression made Rain shiver. Rain put his hands in his lap, carefully avoiding where he was still painfully hard, somehow even harder than he was before, and fixed his eyes firmly to the ground.
    “Your little innocence act doesn’t work on me, Rain.” Mountain said, his voice finding residence low his throat.
    “S- sorry, sir, I didn’t-“
    “Didn’t what? Didn’t meant to drag yourself to my kit and start playing? I thought you were going to be good for me?” Mountain taunted, standing behind Rain and encasing him in his shadow.
    “No! I am! I am good! Please, I’ll show you-“ Rain went to spin around, but Mountain’s hand locked firmly around his throat and stopped him from moving.
    Mountain’s fingers wriggled and adjusted slightly to make sure he had a safe hold on Rain’s gorgeous neck. Ghouls may be a lot stronger than humans, but there was still a right and wrong way to do this. And when Rain gave his signal of two taps of his tail against the ground, telling Mountain he was green, the Earth Ghoul got right back into it.
    Not loosening the hold Mountain had on Rain’s throat, he sank to his knees behind Rain and put his mouth right by the shell of the Water Ghoul’s ear, “You think you’re so good? I’ll need you to prove it.”
    “Please.” Rain got out, quite literally choked off, “Wanna be so good. Your good boy.”
    “One good thing, I suppose, is you’re already prepared for me.” Mountain said, running a hand along Rain’s dick print. Rain could feel his smirk as the Earth Ghoul squeezed Rain’s neck and cock at the same time.
    He wanted to moan or say something, but the hand on his throat simply forbade it. Rain was starting to see sparkles and gave one harsh tap with his tail to tell Mountain he needed to let go, and the Earth Ghoul did so immediately.
    “Fuck.” Rain gasped as he took lung-fulls of air. His jeans somehow grew even tighter and he was sure that the button was about to pop off them.
    “Stand up.” Mountain commanded as he did the same, again enveloping Rain in his shadow.
    Rain did so, wobbly slightly as he got his breath back. He tried to turn and face Mountain but a rough hand shoved his shoulder.
    “I didn’t tell you to do that, did I?” Mountain nearly snarled, “I thought you wanted to be good?”
    The push from Mountain made Rain nearly fall straight into the drum kit. But he managed to catch himself, hands braced on the high tom. He shuddered and knew he’d played right into Mountain’s hand when the Earth Ghoul let out a chuckle at the stance Rain had landed in.
    “Maybe you are good.” Mountain said contemplatively, kicking his stool out the way and pressing his own clothed bulge against Rain’s clothed ass, “You look so eager like this. Practically begging for it.”
    Rain was close to fully begging. But thankfully he didn’t have to as saw Mountain’s t-shirt land in a heap over one of the cymbals. Mountain used a hand on each of them to get both of their flies open and pushed Rain’s jeans down with his underwear before his own. Rain groaned in anticipation when that heavy appendage landed with a slap on his lower back.
    It was definitely going to take them a while to get back to their practice session. But of course, it’s important for drum and bass to properly lock in with each other so their music sounded the best it could.
A/n: Syren herself has picked up and wrote a chapter 2 where we do indeed see Mountain wrecking Rain over the drum kit…
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wagconts · 5 months ago
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𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿! 𝗙𝗲𝗺!
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 :: where you and Medina are always getting on each other's nerves.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 :: mention of Tati and João (sometimes referred to as Chumbo/Chumbinho), two Brazilian surfers.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 :: 1.250k
𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 :: English isn't my first language; I write my stories in my native language and translate them with the help of translators. So, if anything's confusing, I'm sorry! Sometimes it might be a local slang.
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─ Another one for the collection! ─ Medina plopped down next to me.
Gabriel showed me a Polaroid he had just snapped of me while I was distracted, messing around on my phone. I looked at him again, and he had a grin from ear to ear.
─ Seriously? When are you gonna stop taking random Polaroids of me? ─ I asked.
─ Only when my film runs out. And sorry to break it to you, but I just loaded a fresh roll before we came here.
I sighed. Coming to Paris was amazing, like a dream come true. Representing my country in the sport I love, the one I’ve dedicated my entire life to perfecting, was a total win.
This was my second Olympics. I didn’t even make it to the podium in Tokyo, but this time, my confidence was on another level.
The downside? Sharing a house with Gabriel. We've been here for a little over a week, and I still couldn’t figure out his vibe.
One minute, he's all friendly, asking me to share my surf stories, even handing me a flower he picked from some random bush on the beach.
But the next, he's teasing me, throwing shade like we’re rivals from different teams or something. Go figure.
─ You love me, huh? Always sticking close. ─ I said, locking eyes with him.
─ Love’s a strong word, babe. Let’s just say I enjoy watching you lose your cool with my little jokes.
─ I never lose my cool, I’ve got better things to do!
Liar.
─ Sure you do!
─ Are you two lovebirds joining me at the beach or what? ─ Tati interrupted, standing in front of us.
─ Beach? Hell yeah, I'm coming. ─ I jumped off the couch, excited.
─ What’s this, babe? You’re ditching me? I thought we could spend the whole afternoon together. ─ Medina teased with a smirk.
Tati and João burst out laughing at the surfer's joke. I shot him a look and flipped him the bird before heading to my room to grab a swimsuit.
[ .... ]
─ Eh... that was an average wave! ─ Gabriel said as soon as my feet hit the sand. ─ I'd give it a four.
─ Why don’t you go catch a better one then? Talk's cheap; show me what you got. ─ I shot back with a smirk.
─ I like the attitude! ─ he grinned ─ What do I get if I impress you?
─ Nothing, duh. It’s not a prize competition.
─ Kinda boring, but alright, just for the challenge... watch and learn from the best.
─ Best? That’s a stretch! ─ João hollered, making me laugh.
Gabriel rolled his eyes, grabbed his board, and headed toward the waves.
I hated to admit it, but... it’s Medina, you know? He really is one of the best surfers we've ever seen. It’s no wonder he gets all the recognition.
─ You got this, Gabriel! ─ Tati cheered, clapping ─ Come on, (your name), cheer him on too!
─ As if I'd boost that ego any higher ─ I muttered.
Medina spotted a wave and positioned himself on the board. Tati and João went silent, their focus shifting to the water. That wave was the biggest one we'd seen since my last run and his.
I stood up from the sand, watching along with the other two surfers beside me.
─ Is he crazy? He’s lost his damn mind.
The wave passed, but where the hell was Medina?
─ Shit! ─ I muttered under my breath.
─ What the hell did Gabriel do? He’s totally lost it.
The three of us started getting anxious. Tati began shouting his name, hoping for a sign that Gabriel was okay.
But nothing.
So we ran toward the water. Tati and I stayed at the shore, trying to spot him. João didn’t think twice before grabbing his board and heading to where Medina might’ve wiped out.
─ Relax, (your nickname), Gabriel’s a big boy. He knows what he’s doing. ─ The blonde reassured me, patting my shoulder.
─ He’s an idiot, that’s what he is! Did he really need to do all that just to mess with me? ─ I fumed. ─ We have no idea what happened, what if he hit his head on a rock and started bleeding?
─ Girl, stop thinking the worst ─ she scolded. ─ João’s already on it.
Speaking of João, we looked at him; he signaled that he hadn’t found anything.
I took a deep breath. After a few moments, João seemed to spot something, and then, Medina reappeared, climbing back onto his board.
Relief washed over me, and I hugged Tatiane.
─ He’s such a drama queen ─ she whispered, making me smile.
As soon as the two got back to us, the first thing I did was check if Medina was okay.
─ Don’t worry, I didn’t hit anything! Just got caught off guard.
─ Could be worse!
─ Just so you know, (your name) was super worried about you. ─ João teased with a grin.
─ I was worried, yeah, but not like that. I just didn’t want anything bad to happen.
─ Damn, babe, I was getting my hopes up here ─ I mean, who else can nearly have an accident and still crack a joke?
─ Open your eyes, Medina, and make things happen without the jokes! ─ Tatiane whispered, but he still heard it.
[ .... ]
Night had fallen over the skies of Teahupo’o, the sea was calm, and the stars lit up the sky. I was sitting on a rock, finishing up waxing my board so it’d be ready for the heats tomorrow.
I felt a cold weight on my shoulder and looked back to see Gabriel standing there.
─ Still here? I thought you’d be done by now ─ he sat down next to me.
─ Almost done. ─ I said, looking at my board ─ I don’t want any slip-ups tomorrow.
─ And you won’t have any! You just need to keep all the focus and courage you’ve had these past few days ─ he said, looking me in the eyes.
─ I know, but it’s tough. If I gave it my all in the group stage, now that it’s elimination rounds, I need to double that effort.
─ If you keep letting that fear in, it’s only gonna get worse. How about I grab us a couple of cold beers? ─ I laughed ─ What’s so funny?
─ Getting me tipsy the day before the competition? You trying to throw me off my game?
─ Never! It’s the opposite, to pump you up.
─ Damn.
For the first time, I really looked at his face. His brown eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky, and that smile... I could spend hours just looking at photos of him smiling.
─ Kiss me already, (your name)!
I smiled softly before our lips met. He kept his hands in my hair, deepening the kiss.
We pulled back, smiling at each other.
─ Easily my new addiction.
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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 10 months ago
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Can I request a Hunter x female Y/N comfort/whump paternal fic plz? <3
Btw I loved your Crosshair x Y/N fic <3
Knight in Rusty Armor
Hunter x Reader
Summary- After a bad run-in at a market, Hunter has to save you and Omega. You can't help but feel like a failure for not being able to protect Omega by yourself...
A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not completely confident in my ability to write Hunter, but I tried my best!! Hope this is what you had in mind, XoXo.
Word Count- 2,118
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You could feel his gaze on you from a mile away. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Hunter was there.
While you were grateful for him, always- you couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust you. Well, maybe trust wasn't the right word. Nevertheless, he had to accompany you and Omega for a trip to the market.
Everyone had been flying for days and needed a place to resupply. Stretch their legs. You offered to take Omega to shop for some new clothes. She had rips in her shirt- ones that were barely held together by your sewing. So it seemed natural that you would take her, being the only other female on the ship.
Even before landing, you brought up the idea of you and Omega going to Hunter. You wanted to spend some time with her alone. One might have even said mother and daughter bonding...
He turned you down immediately. Rightfully so, as it was a foreign place. But you still wanted to compromise.
That's where you were now, looking through bounds of outfits. Varied from dresses, pants, jackets, and finally shirts. Hunter kept his distance. He did understand that Omega needed some 'girl time' with you, as Tech called it. He also understood that you two were the most important people to him, and he wanted to protect you at all cost.
When you and Omega stepped into an actual establishment for children's clothes, Hunter stood outside the door. Close enough that he could hear Omega laughing.
She picked through a rack, showing you the shirts she thought looked silly. The two of you got a couple odd looks, but neither of you cared.
A particular neon-green tube top grabbed her attention. She picked it up and joked that she wanted it.
"Yeah, very stealthy Omega." You said, playfully.
She giggled and put the shirt back. The two of you proceeded to go to the cashier with the 3 other shirts you found. Ones that fit her and were darker tones.
You immediately noticed that the owner of the store had a sour look on his face. This resulted in you putting on an cheery attitude, being extra kind.
"Ten credits." The yellow man stated, ignoring your pleasantries.
"T-ten?" You sputtered out, shocked. The tags on the clothes clearly stated 'one credit each.'
"Three for the clothes, and seven for the ones you insulted. Now an additional two for arguing with me." Since when was asking a question arguing.
Omega looked up at you, wondering what you would do next. You didn't have Ten credits on you, though you knew Hunter would let you tap into his personal stash if you asked. In this matter however, three shirts were not worth ten credits.
"Sir, i'm sorry about the comments. But we meant no harm. I can give you three credits for the shirts, as they are priced. No more." You reasoned with the man, knowing how bad Omega needed new clothes.
"You are not leaving this store until I get fifteen credits from you." He grumbled and reached for his blaster.
"Excuse me?" You were taken aback. Who did he think he was? Your own blaster was already raised.
"We don't have fifteen credits, and will be leaving now." You said, dropping the clothes. You were frustrated that the day had turned bad.
"Then she can work them off." He shoved his blaster to Omegas temple. Omega had left her energy bow back at the ship, and her borrowed blaster was on the side of her leg.
"We really don't have time for this, sir." You said before effectively disarming him. Your own blaster shot right past his shoulder, missing on purpose. It distracted him long enough for you to knock his blaster out of his own hand. Omega reached down to grab it- both guns now pointing at him.
It was as simple as it seemed, the guy was inexperienced. What the two of you didn't anticipate was Hunters call.
After rushing outside, the building was surrounded by men that looked like the store owner. Yellow with three horns on their ugly face.
What you would find out later was that the store owner had a bad temper, and went ahead to call for back-up. He was determined to make you all pay. Insanely petty if you could say so yourself.
Nevertheless, firing commenced. Again, it was easy. Even though they had numbers, they didn't possess the same skill as the three of you. Maybe that's why you got cocky?
Maybe that's why you found yourself with a blaster pointed at the back of your neck. The store owner! How did you forget him, you and Omega had rushed out without a second thought.
"This time, disarming me won't be so easy." You felt his breath on your ear, disgusting.
"Put the blaster down. Now." Hunter commanded. If you had your thoughts straight, it would have been really sexy.
"I don't think I will. I want 100 credits. For my time, and having to deal with these ratchet things you call humans!" The man insulted.
You smirked, "Not a wise decision." You remarked. Now it was personal- Hunter did not take insults to his girls lightly.
"Yeah, and what do you know? You're the one with a blaster poi-" He was interrupted by Hunter shooting him. Hunter wasn't as forgiving as you. The man fell, you didn't even look to see if he was alive.
With a puff Hunter started, "Let's get back."
"Are you okay!" Omega jumped to your side, calling your name.
Her voice sent a pang down from your spine to your stomach. She shouldn't be worried about you... She should feel safe and protected. All she saw was you getting risky and dumb. Now she thought she had to worry about you... You felt shame rush to your cheeks in a pink hue.
This Hunter took notice of, he was confused. There was nothing to be embarrassed about? At least he didn't think so.
The walk back to the ship was mostly silent, except for Hunter confirming we would try another market soon.
You kept your head up, now being over-cautious, hand hovering your blaster. That was until Hunter took your hand in his. He smiled at you. He could feel the tension off your body. He'd ask about it the second you got some alone time.
You looked at him and swallowed. You only felt more guilt. How was he so collected but ready to engage in combat at any moment. All of it just made you more insecure, what did you bring to the table?
Your thoughts were interrupted by Omega, pulling on Hunters free hand.
"Hunter! Can I pleeeeease get some!" She gestured to a bag of sweets for sale. A mix of fruity candy, lolli-pops, and chewing gum.
"I don't know Omega." He started, but after seeing her face fall he followed it with- "Okay, but you'll have to share it with Wrecker."
She jumped up, hugging onto his arm. "Thank you! You're the best dad ever!" She giddily said, snatching the credit he held out for her.
His face brightened up, it was his turn to wear a light pink hue. Omega didn't even seem to realize what she said, but you gripped Hunters hand tighter.
"Dad... I like it." You leaned onto him, resting a head on his shoulder. Your arm now fully wrapped around his.
"She probably didn't even mean to say it..." He doubted, not wanting to think anything that wasn't mutual.
"Don't sell yourself short, Hunter." You said, not looking up at him, but rubbing your cheek on the material of his shirt.
Omega bopped back over and the three of you headed back to the ship.
Sleep escaped you, tossing and turning. The thoughts of the market kept you awake. This was not normal. You had all been in crappy situations like that one, why did it affect you so much?
Having Hunter save you wasn't something you resented, it was quite attractive. Just this instance. You had been so careless... You could have put an end to it all, but forgot to immobilize the main threat. You huffed and puffed, trying to get out your frustrations.
You were so lost in thought, that when Hunter placed a concerned hand on your shoulder- you jumped. He pulled away instantly, thinking he might have hurt you in some way.
"W-what?" You asked, squinting up at him. It seemed that no one else was awake, Hunter being the only one on watch.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweets?" He asked, hearing his nickname for you was enough to calm you down. At least, enough to get up and settle in one of the cock-pit seats.
You took a deep breath and sat up. He steadied you, an arm wrapping under your armpit to hold you.
"Just can't sleep." He knew there was more to the story. That was a big part about why you loved him. He was more than attentive, and the most selfless lover you could ask for.
"Come sit with me." He suggested, pulling you up with him as he stood to his feet.
He still had a hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the cockpit,
"So, what happened at the market?" You looked down, shame flooded out of you. Seemingly for no reason. You opted to sit down before answering.
"I let Omega down... There's nothing else to it. It was obvious." You almost felt angry that he didn't see the situation as you did.
His face scrunched up, eyes burning at you. He blinked several times before replying- "What are you talking about?"
With a groan you spoke again, "I can't even protect her from an angry, stupid, vender! You had to save us!" Your voice cracked at the end.
"I thought you didn't mind wh-" You cut him off
"I don't, I just-" You grumbled, frustrated that you couldn't find the right words.
"It's okay, you didn't let anyone down. Everyone is safe, it was just a small mishap." He reasoned, hating that you felt anything less than perfect. If only you saw yourself as he saw you.
You took a quick breath, "One day it won't be a 'small mishap' and something might happen to Omega. I was careless! Now she knows I can't protect her. I'm supposed to be the person she can run to... She must be so disappointed."
You let your head fall into your hands. You rested there for a moment, that was until Hunter made his way in front of you. He gently grasped your hands in his.
He lifted one of your hands to rest on his cheek- the tattooed one. You moved your thumb across the black lines.
"Omega thinks the world of you... nothing will change that. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there. If I hadn't called you out, you would have been able to think on what to do with the owner, right?" He explained, trying to shift some of the blame to himself.
You nodded at his words. At this he brings his free hand to rest on your cheek, matching yours on his. His words made you feel some relief, but you couldn't deny how you still felt guilty. Guilty that Omega may have thought differently now.
"Thank you..." You sniffled out, his words making your eyes water.
You leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by a rustling.
Omega. Her light voice called your name, just before jumping onto you and Hunter. He held her steady as she fell into your arms.
"Today was so fun... I'm not disappointed!" You gasped slightly at her words, "You heard all that?" You had a worried look on your face.
"You guys are my family. I'll always feel protected with you." She leans into your arms, head resting just under your shoulder.
"I don't care about the mean guy, I had the best day ever... Can we visit the next market we find as well?" She said, excited, looking up into your eyes.
How could you say no to her sweet face?
"I think Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo should come too. Maybe they will have as much fun as we did shopping!" You and Hunter both laughed at this.
"i'm not so sure shopping is Tech's thing." Hunter joked.
You laughed again, wiping off the last tear on your face. Your anxieties had finally died down.
Hours later, Hunter would find you both asleep in the pilots chair- Omega rested snugged in your arms. That is, with evidence of the last candy all over Omega.
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I didn't have a strong vision for this one, but I told myself I had to finish it before starting another. I also went off of some Star Wars article saying that 1 Credit is equal to 5 USD. Sorry if I got that wrong! As always, I am open to constructive criticism!
Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
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graciegoeskrazy · 2 months ago
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one more fight - she's begging you to stay stay part THREE
Matty Healy x lost!OFC!daughter!r
part 1 part 2
Warnings: crying, mourning/death of a parent, mention of running away, school lol, idk really, angst, ft George a bit
A/N: Idk how I feel about this but I think it's good. I had this way longer originally but the rest will just be separate parts. Some if the rest isn't s angsty (who IS she??) I like it. When Liam Payne died this reminded me that this is basically “I got adopted by one direction” fan fiction so now I hate it all actually but whatever
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It had been a week since you attempted to run away from home, and a week since you decided to try calling this place home.
The days had been strange and tentative, each one blending into the next. You were slowly piecing together routines, latching onto anything that made you feel settled, though part of you wasn’t ready to trust the feeling. School, of all things, had become a useful distraction. It wasn’t that you suddenly loved studying or cared much about what grades you’d get—just that there was comfort in the rhythm of it. It gave you something to think about other than Matty or Mum. With midterms looming, you had a convenient excuse to keep your head down, keep to yourself, and attempt to be unnoticeable.
Your room, the biggest you’d ever had, still didn’t feel entirely like yours, Since the night Matty found your diary and read how you truly felt about staying, you’d been slowly adding little pieces of yourself to it—posters, knickknacks, little things that might make it feel like you belonged there. Nothing too bold or permanent, just small touches, as if you were testing how much of yourself you could leave behind in this space without making it obvious. It was easier to imagine Matty noticing and disapproving, though he’d only ever tried to show how much he wanted you to feel loved.
Every morning he’d check in, a soft knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. He never asked outright if you were okay or if you wanted to talk, and you only assumed it was because he knew that was too much to ask, too soon. Instead, he let you take each day as it came, hoping that small gestures—a cup of tea, your favorite snack he’d bring home for you, a movie night he’d suggest but would never force—would show you that this was, in his eyes at least, home for as long as you wanted it to be. Maybe even for good.
Yet the question lingered in the air between you both, like a thread that neither one of you wanted to pull. The question of staying. You hadn’t spoken about it since the night he found your diary, and though you’d been too mortified to say anything then, you wondered now if he’d been waiting all along for you to come to him and make it real with words. But for now, you settled into the quiet in-betweens, letting the weeks go by without saying anything final, and instead working to leave small pieces of yourself where you hoped they might take root.
…….
You never heard the quiet rumble of the car outside or the front door shutting. It was only when the light spilling through your bedroom door shifted into the shadow of a man that you finally turned around. Matty stood there, dressed in black with his wallet and keys in hand, dress shoes still on—he hadn’t even bothered to drop them off by the door. He’d come straight to you. “What the bloody hell are you doing up at this hour?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, too exhausted for his lecturing, and turned back to your work.
“Studying,” you said calmly.
He walked toward you, his tone firm but holding no anger or malice. “Not at one in the morning! You should be in bed. I told you I wanted you asleep by the time I got home.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up from your work.
He sighed, setting his keys and phone down on your desk. “Did you eat dinner?”
“Yes,” you replied, a little too quickly.
He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re lying now, are we?” You shot him a confused look. “I checked my credit card charges,” he added, shrugging with a smile. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your study guides. But before you could get back to work, he closed your laptop and began shutting the books on your desk. “It’s time for bed.”
“No, I’m busy.” You said, starting to open everything back up. Matty started closing everything again as soon as you did, putting more books into your backpack beside your desk.
He laughed, which pissed you off even more, “Don’t tell me ‘no’, it’s time for bed.” You ignored him, opening your laptop and trying to resume working, but it was no use, he just kept shutting everything off around you,
"Stop," His voice was firm, cutting through the air. The word felt heavier than it should, a gentle command that broke through the walls you had been trying so hard to keep up. Your body reacted instantly, curling in on itself as if his voice had unlocked something inside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and clamped your hands over your eyes, as though covering them could make the world go away. The tears you'd fought all night surged forward, warm and relentless. The sobs you’d been choking back finally broke free, trembling out in small gasps, filling the silent room.
For a moment, you felt nothing but the weight of it all—your sadness, your anger, the uncertainty that seemed to wrap itself around you like a second skin. You couldn’t stop shaking, the tears pouring out faster than you could handle, but before you could drown in them, you felt Matty slowly shift beside you. His hand wraps around your wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just a quiet, persistent tug, and you let him pull your hand away from your eyes. Your vision blurred through the tears as you blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his face through the haze of emotions.
"Come here," he murmured, his voice softer now, the firmness replaced by something warmer, something that felt like home. His arms opened prompting you to come to him.
Without thinking, you moved. The space between you two disappeared in a second as you pushed yourself off your desk chair and stumbled into him. You buried your face in his chest, your body shaking as his arms came around you, pulling you in tightly like he was trying to piece you back together. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that began to steady your own.
"It’s okay," he whispered into your hair, his voice a soothing tone against the storm raging inside of you. "I’ve got you. Let it out."
You sobbed harder, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging to him could stop you from falling apart completely. He didn’t flinch, instead, his hands moved in slow, comforting circles across your back. His touch was light but steady, grounding you with each stroke. He rocked you gently, the motion slow and rhythmic like he was trying to lull you out of the darkness with nothing but his presence.
"Shh," he murmured again, his breath warm against your hair, "You’re safe. I’ve got you."
His words wove their way into the cracks of your heart, slowly calming the tidal wave of emotions crashing inside of you. The ache in your chest began to ease, though the tears kept coming. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this, how much you’d been holding back until this moment. The dam had broken, and now there was no stopping the flood.
But he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you tighter, wrapping his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world. He leaned back slightly, shifting his position so that you could sink further into his embrace, his arms cradling you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice steady. Each word felt like it was unraveling the tight knots that had wound themselves deep in your chest, loosening the tension that had been building since your mom died. You weren’t sure how long you’d been crying, but he never left your side, never pulled away,
The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and slowly, the sobs began to fade. Your breaths, though still shaky, came easier now, and the iron grip you had on his shirt began to soften. You felt heavy—exhausted, drained—but somehow lighter at the same time, as if some weight had been lifted. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing soothing patterns across your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your shoulder blade.
He didn’t push you to speak. He didn’t pry or prompt you to explain. All he did was hold you, shushing your tears, whispering that everything was going to be okay. And it was you who chose to break the silence, your voice muffled against his shirt as you continued to cry into him.
“I just miss her,” you whispered, your words broken by the tears that hadn’t fully subsided.
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of your words hang in the air. The only sounds were your quiet hiccups and the soft rustle of his breath as he held you tighter.
“I know,” he finally said, his voice gentle, full of understanding.
“I just...want to see her again.”
“I know, baby-”
“And I’m so tired.” The exhaustion wasn’t just physical at this point.. Every part of you was worn thin, stretched beyond breaking.
“I know,” he whispered again. “But pushing yourself like this, studying until you can’t see straight, working every second of every day... it won’t bring her back, love. It won’t take away the hurt.”
His words settled in your chest, heavy but true. You felt the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He then spoke words that would take a while to itch out of your brain, “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, kid.” You continued to let the small tears flow off of your cheeks and onto his shirt, “You can ask your help every once in a while, you know that right?” You didn’t nod or answer, just stayed still, letting his words sink in.
He looked at you as he spoke, “You’ve had a long day,  I’ll bet money your exams will go just fine, and deep down, I think you know that, too.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes soft but serious. “But if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be too tired to keep your eyes open for any exam you take.” His fingers brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, love.” You just nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed. I'll be right here.” You slowly pried yourself off of him, the chill in the air coming back without his warmth.
You grabbed one of the pajama sets from your dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The momentary silence felt heavy, almost suffocating after the outpour of emotions just moments before. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as you turned it on, casting a harsh glow on your reflection in the mirror.
For a second, you just stared. Your face was blotchy and red, eyes swollen from crying, dark circles lingering beneath them from nights of restless sleep. It was hard to recognize yourself like this—so raw, so vulnerable. A completely different person than the one you were mere months ago. You reached up to rub at your cheeks, your fingers brushing over tear-streaked skin, but the feeling lingered deeper than the surface.
You dried your face, tugging on your pajama top and slowly made your way back out of the bathroom. Matty was still sitting where you left him, his expression soft but watchful as you re-entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small, reassuring smile, patting the spot beside him.
And without thinking, you went to him, letting the quiet between you two speak for itself.
He moved out of the way and moved the covers down, prompting you to get in. He pulled them up once you settled in and started fluffing your pillows. His gaze finally met yours once he got you settled and he couldn’t help the small frown on his face when he saw your eyes, still full of tears.
“Shh. It’s alright my love.” he said, voice almost a whisper, secretly trying to lure you to sleep
You looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. The ones he has become very accustomed to. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.
It took everything in your father to not cry in that moment, seeing you so small, so fragile. So terrified of what was to come made his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Of course I will.” He said.
Once he took his place next to you, you wasted no time, immediately finding a spot against him and his chest. He held you tighter as you cried into him. He didn’t say a word, yet you felt the most supported you’ve ever been. It almost felt as if a weight started to lift off of you. Eventually, your sobs subsided. The amount of crying in that short time was enough to wear you out during your barely conscious state, He was still in his dress shirt and pants, not that he cared. All he could think about was you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to let go of you.
…….
George bursted through the door, slamming it loudly. Not aware of your sleeping form on the couch, You were cuddled into your father, asleep, face hiding in his chest while your legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch. To Matty’s surprise, his loud, booming voice didn’t wake you. Matty shut him up before he could continue. “Shhhh! Shut up will you!” he whispered. If he could’ve shouted he would.
George abruptly stopped when his eyes caught sight of you. “Christ, is that her?”
“No, it’s another 12-year-old who lives in my house.” George rolled his eyes. Matty continued, “She’s still asleep. Come sit.” He nodded towards the chair next to him.
He saw George’s hesitant look as he slowly crept to the couch, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. Matty noticed the way his gaze hovered over you as he took slow, calculated steps towards the chair, afraid a creek in the floorboard would wake you up. He spoke as he sat down. “Why so tired? It’s barely 3?”
Matty shrugged, “She’s been up late. Barely sleeps through the night since Flo died. Being up through the night studying for her exams sure didn’t help.”
George quietly sighed. “Poor girl.” He looked at you once more, paying attention to your features, now having a proper chance. “Christ, she looks just like you.” He said, almost a whisper.
Matty looked up at him quickly. “You think?” He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.
“Without a doubt.”
Matty hummed, looking at you again, “Acts like me too, stubborn as hell.”
George let out a small laugh before quickly responding. “Nah, I don’t imagine she’s as big of a pain in the ass as you.”
Matty rolled his eyes. “Oh shut-”
“Dad?”
Both men panicked when they heard the timid and groggy sound of your voice. You were still half asleep, not even bothering to open your eyes all the way. The sun peeking in through the living room windows was too bright anyways,
“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” He whispered sweetly. “Go back to sleep, darling.”
You rubbed your eyes as if doing so would get rid of the tiredness in them. “What are you doing?” You asked while stretching.
“Nothing, just talking with George. Come here, come back to sleep, my love.” You didn’t argue, just fell limp again into his arms. Matty smiled down at you as George breathed a sigh of relief.
“Shush,” Matty said to him.
“Me shush? You're the one who woke her up!” He whisper-shouted,
Matty shrugged and repeated. “Shush.”
“She’s been doing alright otherwise?” George asked, his pettiness now replaced by pure concern.
Matty smiled as he continued his mindless movements of rocking you back and forth, “As good as she can be. All things considered.”
George hummed. “...And you? You doing alright there ‘Dad’?’
Matty sighed as he looked between his best friend and his daughter, his shoulders falling slump. “...I don’t know. I just…Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine. Not because of everything that’s happened, but because she just seems…too good for me.”
As much as George wanted to make a joke and say something stupid like well, most women are, he didn’t. He stayed silent, only nodding his head to prompt Matty to continue. “She’s so mature. Well beyond her years, sometimes I think she’s more mature than me. She’s smart. Really really fucking smart, way smarter than me…sometimes I wonder how i’m supposed to help her…grow.” 
“I think you’ve done much more and much better than your giving yourself credit for.”
He sighed, “She’s already amazing. I don’t want to fuck her up. She too perfect.”
George nodded “Maybe that part she gets from Flo.”
Matty smiled, knowing he was right.
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