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pomegranatesarchive · 7 days ago

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hand of gold — cs55

pairing: carlos sainz x wolff!reader

summary: nobody knew you and carlos sainz jr were dating, much less getting married. now everyone’s buzzing at the prospect of getting to witness the biggest (and most expensive) wedding in formula one history.

authors note: this was requested by an anon MONTHS ago and i am so sorry this took me so long, AND im so sorry because the request has for some reason disappeared from my inbox, i hope this makes it to you anon!

instagram • ynwolff • dec 23 • monaco ⚑

liked by lewishamiliton, kimi.antonelli and 718,025 others!

ynwolff: happy holidays from the wolff family 🐺🎅

view comments below!

username1: you never let me forget how rich you are

username2: how does it feel to live the life

username3: are toto and susie looking for a 3rd

➥ ynwolff: it’s christmas…have some decorum.

➥ username3: i didn’t think you would see that…i apologize.

➥ username3: but…are they?

username4: i would kill my entire family to experience a wolff family christmas

username5: i can’t believe she’s still soft launching, you can trust us girl

➥ username6: it’s been THREE whole years…we will never see this man’s full face

➥ username7: i bet he’s ugly.

➥ username8: hes either 1. hideous to look at 2. not rich 3. a driver, or 4. a controversial man

➥ username9: what if it’s lewis?

➥ username10: do you see an ounce of melanin on that man’s skin?

➥ username11: this whole thread is why we will never know who she’s dating 😒

kimi.antonelli: thank you for the new kart 💙 i love it!

➥ ynwolff: only the best for a mercedes driver <3

➥ georgerussell63: i don’t recall getting a new anything for these last 2 years? 🤨

➥ ynwolff: remember that you are a grown man with a grown man paycheck!

instagram • pomegranatesgossip • unknown ⚑

liked by 72,626 users!

pomegranategossip: #neverforgiveneverforget the day this picture came out and everyone thought carlos was for sure going to mercedes! just for him to go WILLIAMS, will forever reminisce on what we could’ve had

view comments below!

username12: they knew what they were doing..and they were so evil for it

➥ username13: will forever wonder what they were talking about

➥ username14: and why on earth was old papa sainz there?

username15: i have a theory..but im scared people will think im schizophrenic

➥ username16: as a diagnosed schizophrenic, let’s indulge into this theory together

➥ username15: i’m convinced carlos is dating toto’s daughter

➥ username16: oh baby….

➥ username15: NO IM NOT CRAZY

username17: nightmare blunt rotation

instagram • carlossain55 • jan 13 • joali being ⚑

liked by susie_wolff, ynwolff, and 628,926 others!

carlossainz55: big things coming soon

view comments below!

username18: i’m cumming soon 😩

➥ username19: ON A POST WHERE HES SHOWING OFF HIS GF???

username20: another one that won’t man up and hard launch 😒

➥ username21: what a coincidence that both yn and carlos have been soft launching for the same amount of time 😭

➥ username22: now that you mention it..

➥ username23: huh

username24: why is susie wolff in the likes?

➥ username25: the TWO wolffs are in the likes

➥ username26: yn has been in the likes since forever, susie on the other hand…

username27: i’m look at the hand in the second picture, and as much as i hate to ask, is that a engagement ring?

➥ username28: please please PLEASE DONT START

➥ username29: i can’t handle that right now

➥ username30: climate change, the cheetos in office, the worlds falling apart, and CARLOS IS ENGAGED TO SOMEONE WHOS NOT ME??? I WILL KILL MYSELF

➥ username31: this was truly the last thing i needed this year

➥ username32: if carlos got a engaged, why would he be wearing an engagement ring? isnt it normal the woman?

➥ username33: unless carlos was proposed TO

username34: please don’t do this to me carlos

twitter

instagram • ynwolff • jan 15

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 619,026 others!

yourusername: fixed on your hand of gold

view comments below!

username35: we really went from 0 to 100 real quick 😨

username36: im frozen. you just altered the timeline

username37: THE TWITTER CRAZIES WERE RIGHT?

➥ username38: more importantly THE SCHIZOPHRENIC GIRL WAS RIGHT?

susie_wolff: tell him to watch his hands

➥ carlossainz55: yes ma’am i will watch my hands forever and always

➥ lando: kiss ass 🤣

➥ carlossainz55: you wish you could kiss my ass

➥ ynwolff: oh 😆

➥ carlossainz55: i didn’t mean it baby, i only want you to kiss my ass

➥ susie_woff: …

➥ username39: i like this new change

username40: i actually cannot handle this news right now

username41: THATS WHY PAPA SAINZ AND BABY SAINZ WERE TALKING TOO SUSIE AND TOTO

username42: i can just imagine carlos asking toto permission to propose to yn 😭

username43: wait so who proposed to who?

➥username44: i can’t imagine yn wolff getting on her knees for any man

➥ username45: it wouldn’t make sense for carlos to have a an engagement ring unless yn proposed to him

➥ username46: keep in mind, yn has an engagement ring too

➥ username47: maybe rich people do stuff differently

susie_wolff: i would like to make it clear that my daughter did not get on her knees for any man. she was proposed too, and THEN did she get an engagement ring for her soon to be husband —toto wolff

➥ username48: toto said put some respect on his daughters name

➥ username49: this makes me feel much better

➥ username50: this wedding better be HUGE

➥ username51: if i can’t have a big wedding, then i least i can live through someone who will

carlossainz55: i love you 💙

➥ alex_albon: simp

➥ username51: so did everyone in the paddock know about this relationship?

➥ lando: yes

➥ username52: just dig the knife deeper

➥ username53: i didn’t even feel this level of betrayal when my boyfriend cheated on me

twitter

instagram • carlossain55 • feb 14 • monaco ⚑

liked by ynwolff, charles_leclerc, and 916,016 others!

carlossainz55: wolff-sainz wedding, september ‘25

view comments below!

username54: so what i’m understanding is that your taking the wolff last name 🤨

username55: holy shit look at those flowers

username56: ON HIS BIRTH MONTH EVERYONE!

username57: my expectations for men just went way up

username58: im assuming it'll be a very flower themed wedding??

lando: so according to my invitation, i shouldn't bring fireworks? will you be providing them or was it a typo?

➥ carlossainz55: this will be a firework free wedding lando.

➥ lando: WHAT

➥ charles_leclerc: NO FIREWORKS?

➥ maxverstappen1: well i already bought the fireworks so

➥ carlossainz55: do not set off fireworks at my wedding max.

➥ maxverstappen1: what the fuck am i going to do with all these fireworks

username60: im so excited for OUR wedding

username61: the bride right in the middle as she deserves

username62: the way yn has posted these exact photos on her story before..

➥ username63: private but never secret

➥ username64: i still can't believe they got away with this for THREE years

ynwolff: so ready for you to take my last name

➥ carlossainz55: so ready for you to take MY last name

➥ susie_wolff: technically you're taking my last name—toto wolff

➥ username65: you two should fight to the death, and whoever wins takes the others name

instagram • pomegranatesgossip • unknown ⚑

liked by ynwolff and 92,193 others!

pomegranatesgossip: two snippets of carlos talking about the wedding in a recent interview:

"I think the thing that bothers me the most is when people say 'is yn a bride...what do they call it? bride...zila?' I do not understand what is wrong with a woman wanting everything to be perfect on her big day. I don't think people understand how stressful it is to plan a wedding. It seems like all we do is plan, plan, plan. And I do love it because I want the day to be perfect for her, but if I'm not racing, I'm planning the wedding. So I understand why some women, especially when they don't have their fiancé to help them, can get a bit....angsty."

"When we had that talk about our future, one thing my YN made very clear was that she wanted a huge wedding. She wanted different dresses, different cakes, different venues, everything. So, I think it was our fourth date when I started taking note of everything she liked—I actually still have the list—so when we did plan the wedding, it would be easier, you know? what flowers she loved versus which ones she just liked. It did make it easier. Instead of going crazy over two good choices, we can easily pick one."

view comments below!

username66: oh my gosh he's so in love???

username67: that was supposed to be my man

username68: i am begging you guys to go see the actual video because the heart eyes he gets when talking about yn is so 🥰

ynwolff: i knew there was no way he just memorized my top 50 favorite flowers... 🤨

➥ carlossainz55: i’m sorry baby i have bad memory

➥ username69: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY MAN

username70: his yn everyone

username71: HE KNEW HE WAS GOING TO MARRY HER BY THE FOURTH DATE! THE FOURTH

instagram • carlossainzwolff55 • sep 1

liked by ynwolffsainz, alex_albon, and 1,726,917 others!

carlossainzwolff55: Mrs. Yn Wolff-Sainz 🫀

view comments below!

username72: i just woke up wtf happened

username73: oh so by september you meant the FIRST of the month

username74: THAT DRESS

danielricciardo: beautiful wedding, beautiful bride 🍾

➥ carlossainzwolff55: 🤨

➥ lando: you don’t have to be so jealous anymore, you’re married now!

➥ carlossainzwolff55: 🤨

username75: he wasted NO TIME changing that username 😭

username76: for those who are in a different time zone and missed the insta story’s, here’s a summary: yn had 3 different dresses, they had 4 different venues? (what it looked liked) and a shit load of flowers, ALSO toto cried

➥ susie_wolff: is it so shocking that i cried at my beautiful daughters first wedding? — toto wolf

➥ username76: you need to get an instagram account old man

➥ carlosainzwolff55: first and ONLY wedding ** 🙂

username77: they took each others last name 🥹

username78: its so scute how he’s the one that’s always the first to post

lando: would’ve been better with fireworks

➥ charles_leclerc: agreed

➥ maxverstappen1: totes

➥ carlossainzwolff55: god forbid i don’t want tacky fireworks at my wedding

➥ maxverstappen1: TACKY??? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW MY FIREWORK GUY ONLY GETS ME TOP OF THE LINE EXPLOSIVES

➥ username79: top of the line and fireworks should not be associated

username80: we’ve come so far in such little time

username81: it’s carlos’s birthday…

➥ username82: OH MY GOD THEY GOT MARRIED ON HIS BIRTHDAY

ynwolffsainz: i love you 🫀

➥ carlossainzwolff: i love you MORE 🥰

➥ alex_albon: sick to my stomach (beautiful wedding btw!)

username83: the picture in the middle?? jaw dropped.

➥ username84: it’s my new wallpaper 😭

username85: i see my future and its bright

username86: thank you for all the wedding inspo!

username87: so can we refer to toto as old man wolff now? because it’ll get real confusing real quick if we don’t change something

#carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 social media au #f1

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xoxolilixx · 9 days ago

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★𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚★

𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - you help Ekko relax a little

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - Smut with plot, fingering, oral(reader receiving)

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - heyyyy😅 ik it's been a while, I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth, MY BADDDDD😁 I figured since I've been gone for a good second, I should come back with a treat, so here you are lovebugs❤️ I hope you guys like it🩷🌺

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he worked. He was hunched over his desk, hands aching and mind clouded as he continued his repairs to his hoverboard. It was late –3 am to be exact– and Ekko’s been sleepless since the battle on the bridge with Jinx. You were worried about him. You knew how stressful this was for him; between failing to save his former best friend and making sure everything stays afloat with the firelights, he was basically drowning in his work and stress. Ekko was a relatively calm person, but whenever you tried to talk to him about everything, he would just shut down and push you away, so you learned to give him space, but tonight you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m surprised you haven’t frozen to stone like that,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. His workshop door was cracked open and all the lights except for the one that sat right above his desk were dimmed. “...you should be asleep,” he whispered, not looking up from his work. His voice was weary and tired, you could hear the stress in his voice, it made your heart crack. “So should you, love,” your voice stayed soft, calming. The last thing you wanted was to be another harsh thing in his life right now. “The bed misses you,” you joked softly as you came up behind him, your soft hands landing on his shoulders. They were tense, his whole body was, and the tenseness didn’t falter when you touched him like how it usually did. “I’ll be there soon,” he uttered. “How soon? By the end of the month? Because I haven’t seen you in bed in 3 weeks,” you were sincere with a half joking tone as your hands gently ran down his body as you hugged him from behind, “I miss you baby…just…come on for tonight, get some rest. It’ll be here in the morning- I’ll even come in and help you with it,” you pleaded softly, your lips against his neck as you eyed his work from his shoulder. You didn’t want him to open up before he was ready, you didn’t want to push his limits, and you didn’t want to bitch to him about how closed off he’s been, you just wanted him to get some rest.

He sighed at your words, his hands pausing their movements for just a small moment, “Just-...let me finish this up, okay?” he uttered, his tone slightly softer than before. You huffed as you felt him lean into your arm, planting a small kiss on your upper arm as he started working again. You knew him, he wasn’t going to come to bed any time soon, he would just magically find something else that needed his attention and forget all about getting rest. “You’re helpless, you know that?” you huffed out against the shell of his ear, “your whole workshop is gonna be renovated before you come to bed.” He could hear the slight irritation in your words as you removed your touch from him, it made him tense up more. He knew you were being patient with him, and knowing that he was making it harder for you somehow made him feel worse than the stress did.

“Wait,” he uttered out before you got too close to the door. You immediately turn around, as if it was a reflex, “yes Ekko?” “...c’here,” he uttered, his hands abandoning his work as he looked over his shoulder. You didn’t fight the urge to walk back over to him. Soon, you were standing in between his legs and his hands were on your hips. “I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, his hands giving a loving squeeze to your body. His stress seemed to melt away the more you were around him, and you loved that, but constantly trying to get him to melt was frustrating, so you wanted to milk this as much as you could.

“Prove it,” you huffed, feigning irritation as you crossed your arms. For the first time in a while, he cracked a smile, chuckling as he immediately picked up on your game. “You want me to prove that I’m sorry?” he chuckled, his hands running up your waist, pushing up your (his) shirt as he did so. “Yea,” you huffed, your act almost breaking as he tugged you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “And tell me princess, how do you want me to do that?” he smirked as your hands rested on his shoulders as his hand gently grabbed your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “Surprise me,” you smiled, finally breaking your act. It felt like he was a magnet, slowly pulling you closer, the space in between you closing at a steady pace. “Surprise you, huh? I got you~” he uttered before pressing his lips into yours.

This was the quickest you’ve ever seen Ekko forget about a project. Your lips danced with his as his hands roamed your body, running from your waist to your hip down to your thighs before finally resting on your ass, his hands giving it a soft squeeze. Your hands weren't much different; running from his shoulders down his chest to his abs and then back up to his blonde locs. It didn't take long for all restraint to disappear once his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine escaping your throat as he explored your mouth. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart melt. If this was all it took to get him to loosen up, you would’ve been tried this.

You felt him remove one of his hands off your body, reaching behind you to tug his hoverboard off the table and onto the floor, giving him space to grab your hips and lift you up onto the table. You stayed connected in a messy kiss as he gripped your thighs and toyed with the waistband of your night shorts. You finally broke away, strings of saliva connecting you both as you panted softly, trying to catch your breath as you smiled down at him as he tugged at your waistband, a smile on his face as while. “There we go~” you cooed, your soft hands cupping his cheeks, “Finally got you to smile f’me,” you giggled, his smile only growing bigger. “Who wouldn’t for you, baby?” he chuckled as he tugged down your waistband, silently signalling to you to lift your hips, which you happily obliged.

He pressed soft, wet kisses all along your jaw and neck as he tossed your shorts somewhere behind him, pushing your thick thighs apart, revealing the damp spot on your orange, lacy panties, bringing a smirk on his face. “All that for me?” he smirked slyly, gripping you by your thighs and tugging you closer to the edge of the table. “No one else but you,” you giggled. “You must have really missed me,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss into your lips, swallowing the soft moan you let out when the pad of his thumb pushed into your clit through the flimsy fabric. The pretty sounds continued to spill out as he drew tight circles into the little bud.

At some point, he slowly stood up, his lips still locked with yours and his fingers still moving. “Lay back f’me baby,” he muttered against your lips lowly, but you weren't giving much of a choice when he placed a hand on your stomach and gently pushed you back. A shiver went down your spine as he placed soft, wet kisses down your body, making his way between your thighs, sucking hickeys over top of the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You leaned up on your elbows, looking down your body and watching him work on your body, allowing your eyes to lock with his. God damn it, he was fucking gorgeous like this; in between your legs, looking up with hooded but loving eyes, blonde locs falling in his face just a little. A gasped escaped your lips as he kissed your clothed cunt before he tugged the messy fabric to the side. Ekko bit back a groan as he watched strings of your arousal fall from the fabric as your pussy shimmered under the dim lighting. His dick leaked in his pants a little at the sight. “You’re so fucking pretty~” he cooed softly, making your heart melt and your cheeks flush, but before you could even respond, his mouth was on your cunt, coaxing struggled whines and moans from you as the sound of him slurping and licking your core filled the room. Your fingers tangled in his locs, tugging his head deeper between your legs as your head lulled back, your hips grinding against his face as he gripped your thigh with one hand, tugging you impossibly closer to him as he slipped one of his long, thick fingers into your tight hole.

He ate you like a starved man, but honestly the way he’s been locked up in his workshop, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was one. He now had two fingers pumping in and out of you, curling perfectly against that one gummy spot inside of you as he slurped and sucked at your clit, the juices from your previous orgasm pooling in the palm of his hand and on his desk under you.

He reluctantly detached from your cunt after your third orgasm leaving you a panting and shaking mess in front of him as he smirked down at you. “How’s that for proof?” he smirked, earning a breathless giggle from you as he licked your juices off his now dripping hand. “Ya know, I came in here to try and help you un-stress~” you giggled. “Hm, then you did a amazing fucking job baby,” he chuckled lowly, leaning down to lock lips with you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

“Lets go to bed~” he uttered, scooping you off his table, leaving a mess for him to clean up later.

#ekko arcane #arcane #ekko #ekko x reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader #lilixoxo writes #arcane smut #ekko smut #lilixoxo smut #ekko x fem!reader #Ekko smut

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starofthesea7 · 2 years ago

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König~Worship the King

Your eyes traced the huge mass of muscle in front of you. Fresh from the field, he looked exhausted, primal- his canvas pants still splattered with mud and god knows what else. Arms shiny with sweat and rain, leg bouncing absentmindedly, his head was still a void, swimming with pictures of death and devastation. His eyes were focused on a bowl of stew, dwarfed by his huge, muscled hands. Pale fingers against white ceramic.

‘You can take the mask off to eat your food, I have to clean up your face anyway. In fact I should look at that first.” Your voice was soft, hesitant. Afraid of startling him, even though little could do so.

Dark fabric folded as he shook his head gently. “After. I don’t want it to…” he searched for the word in English, “to scare you. Yet” His voice was rough and tired, laced thickly with an accent, german. Your heart twinged at his words.

“You couldn’t scare me.” You attempted a reassuring smile. König. King. A very fitting name for the enigma in front of you, and yet in some ways not fitting at all. True he was imposing. Large. Stately. Yet he was gentle, anxious, even, when he was in close proximity to others. Under scrutiny. He was anxious when it came to people, most of all you. He was good at hiding it though, to you it seemed an aloofness, perhaps even a polite disinterest, that he felt towards you. A simple nod in greeting as he passed you was the most you could hope to receive.

Now you stood in between his enormous thighs which he’d spread just far enough apart to avoid grazing yours, the air between them thick with tension. You rolled up his dark sleeve, doing your best to ignore the rippling muscle beneath. They way it flexed which each ascent of his spoon, before it disappeared underneath black cloth, then reappeared, empty. He barely flinched as you dabbed an alcohol pad across the gaping wound on his shoulder. Blood glistened carmine.

Oxymoron was a more fitting name, you thought. Perhaps it was too long for a nickname. He truly was a paradox, though. So colossal, yet reserved. So immense yet quiet, even gentle. He was a man of few words. A wave waiting to crash, or a volcano waiting to erupt.

Your voice broke the silence, surprising you both. It felt small. “Feel okay?” He was nervous, although you couldn’t see it, underneath the mask. He wasn’t really afraid of you, more afraid of hurting you, or scaring you. With his weight. His scars, his is strength.

His eyes raised to meet yours. Although he was sitting, they were level with your own. A cold, pale olive green. “Ja. Thank you. I am sorry for waking you for this little scratch.” When you’d gotten a call that he’d needed a small patch job, admittedly you’d jumped at the chance to see him. You’d been drawn to the Austrian giant since you’d arrived a month ago. You liked his presence, it was safe, a shield to all else. Nothing could touch you with him there. No amount of horny jeering men, or loaded guns.

“It’s not a just scratch, König, its a big gash. And I haven’t even gotten to your face yet. Plus, I couldn’t sleep anyway, I’m happy to do it.” You rambled, feeling the burn of his eyes on yours, studying your face as you concentrated, threading a sterile needle. You stepped forward, into him, bumping his leg. He smelled like earth, and motor oil. Faintly of cigarettes and metallic blood. The heady odour was thick, collocating with the rubbing alcohol of your sterile office.

“Deep breath.” You felt silly, instructing a man who’d murdered countless men in the past week to do a breathing excersise, but he obeyed, the soft, raspy sound making your knees weak, and your imagination run wild. You blinked and regained focus, before puncturing the skin. His eyes fixed on your face, unwavering. You counted the stitches. Eleven, black and neat, in a row. “Aaand…done.” You cut the thread. “And not even a flinch.” You smiled at him, and his eyes crinkled, barely.

You gently rubbed it with ointment and wiped your hands on a towel, blood staining it crimson. You noticed his thighs now resting against yours. They were warm, and dirt from them stained your kaki pants but your hardly cared. “Ok. Ready for the mask?” You felt nervous, more nervous than he looked. It felt monumental, an enigma becoming real, smoke condensing into man.

You’d thought about what he looked like, but only in patches, certain features imagined while the rest of the picture was more of a blurred haze. Pale skin and light eyes. Dark or light hair? A sharp jaw or weak and soft? You couldn’t really imagine him being ugly, and truly, you felt you’d be attracted to him regardless, like opposite poles of a magnet. North and south. Dark and light, soft and hard.

He cleared his throat, and set the empty bowl down beside him. His eyes held yours vehemently, and large hands raised black cloth, revealing a pale, broad column of neck, a white scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your lips. His lips were split, bitten and red. And inviting. A glint of teeth and a jaw, sharp with a whisper of stubble. The cloth clung to a splatter of blood and small cuts now integrated with old scars, and a few pieces of shrapnel that traveled up to a deep, glistening slice. Caked blood ran down his temple. His nose was sharp and slightly crooked, veering to the right in an endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child.

Then, his eyes, deep set and soft, framed with long lashes and crowned with sharp brows, one interrupted by a large, aged scar. Finally, hair, light, light brown, almost blonde, with a tinge of red, tumbled out. It was tied back with an elastic, but not long, as if he was in need of a trim, shorter pieces falling across his forehead. His head tilted back as he looked at you, silently, daring you to react to his intimate sign of trust.

You breathed out. It wasn’t what you had expected. His face was, interesting. Attractive. Younger than you’d imagined. A sharp canine pressed into his lip. You let out a breath, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it clench beneath your fingers, tilting his face up towards artificial light. His lips parted, adams apple bobbing. “You should’ve let me do your face first.”

“Sorry.” His voice was soft, ragged.

You reached for a pair of pointed tweezers and began removing each piece of shrapnel from his face. The night was quiet, save for for soft breaths. His was hot against your cheek. “König.” Chunks of metal and stone clanged into a small aluminum bowl. He hummed in response.

“You could never scare me.”

He smiled softly at you, slightly crooked.

Without meaning to, your thumb stroked the soft skin of his jaw. His legs tightened against you, barely, but your heart quickened against your ribcage.

Again, you soaked the wounds in alcohol. You could tell it stung. His fingers began absentmindedly drumming against your hip, leaving hot tingles in their wake. You moved to the cut on his lip, he hissed quietly as you made contact with the cotton pad. Your eyes were focused, pupils blown wide as you stared at his lips. His hot tongue peeking out from behind pink bloodied skin.

Your voice was quiet, distant, “You have a pretty bad split lip, I’m gonna put a little stitch in it.”

He swallowed hoarsely, “Okay.”

You were close, so close to him, breaths mingling in the hot air. His scent enveloped you. He enveloped you. You weren’t particularly small, but to him you were. Fragile. The needle ruptured his lip and his hand gripped at your waist, heavy and large. You leaned into him, lower stomach barely grazing the split of his pants. He shifted in thick canvas.

Your hand shifted, cupping his jaw as you cut the thread. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, and something else. You looked at each other with neediness, both in awe of how the other contained all that they could ever want- him to satiate your emptiness, you to soothe his aching burn. A month of passing glances and unsaid words threatened to morph into action; spurred on by the arousal of seclusion and stagnation after the high of adrenaline, the heady scent of blood, metal, alcohol.

You leaned in and felt his hand tighten against you hip, You were inches from him, the air between you buzzed as opposites attracted, pulled you towards him. His mouth widened as he leaned into you. Your soft, plush lips grazed his, barely, and he pulled you into him, emitting a soft sound. Mouths opened wide with need. He was metal, cigarettes and gasoline, the taste and smell making you unsteady, faint. You gripped his shirt tightly, his mass keeping you from falling, or perhaps from floating away.

Deft, strong fingers found the back of your head. Scalp prickling as he pulled at your hair. You were slick.

He groaned slightly into your mouth, and your hands found his hair, fisting it free from the elastic band, copper locks brushing your forehead, stubble brash against your reddening cheeks.

His large warm hand traced from your hip down, raising your leg to straddle his thigh. Hot, hard muscle against your softness. You let out an involuntary airy moan as the seam of your jeans jabbed into your clit, cunt clenching around nothing, deprived and empty.

You lifted your other leg to straddle him fully, clothed cunt contracting at the friction against pelvis, you could feel him, large, hard, heavy and confined. It made you hot with need. You pulled back to stare at him, pupils blown, lips puffy. His hips bucked up into you, searching for friction and release, his brows furrowed. Colossal hands found your waist beneath your shirt, opposite fingers almost touching around your circumference. His fingers were calloused and rough. Feeling his hot skin against yours made you reel with thoughts of at the way he dwarfed you, dominated you with the simplest of actions. The fact that he could fill your emptiness, stretch you to the brink, overwhelm you, crush you- was inebriating.

“I-” he searched for the right words, “I want you. Ich brauche dich.” You smiled at his mother tongue appearing, as it often did in states of intoxication.

You pressed your mouth to his neck, with an open mouthed kiss, feeling the bump of his scar as he swallowed, and looked up at him through wet lashes. Grinding your hips against him, making him groan, cock twitching, hyper sensitive from months of neglect. You maundered, “Let me make you feel good, König.” Your voice was airy and laced with fervour. His eyes were glassy and lidded as he looked down at you, hair falling across his forehead, glistening with sweat. His head swam, the situation feeling far to good to be true, an intoxicated dream or adrenaline spurred hallucination. His blunt fingernails clutched at your waist harshly, leaving half moons in their wake.

Your eyes flickered to a stain of precum darkening the crotch of his thick pants as you rose to your feet, his hands gripped his thighs in restraint, watching you in anticipation. Then, you knelt to the ground to worship your king.

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bloodwrittenletters · 4 months ago

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YOU SAID 'forever' AND I ALMOST BOUGHT IT

pairing . . . percy jackson x fem!mortal!reader

the cassette playing . . . i miss you, i'm sorry! gracie abrams

the letter reads . . . you loved your boyfriend, but maybe he didn't love you enough to stay— or to say the whole truth.

warnings . . . cursing (just a bit), ANGST, some comedic relief (very tiny).

a/n . . . soooo......... long time no see!! i was thinking of making headcanons out of this but settled for a fic, and i'm thinking maybe doing a part 2????? i dunno, i guess we'll see 😁 also, I just recently discovered jellycats and THEY ARE SO CUTE?? I need one in my life.

many months ago, in the epitome of heart aches of many, your love had been given to a boy with a pained soul with your first kiss. it was percy's sixteen birthday, just after the battle of Manhattan had ended— one that you along with many others had thought it was an attack to the Empire State Building, and he was hurt. you knew he had been involved in some way, he was the one you woke up to be holding you, he was the one who wet your cheeks with his own tears.

you didn't ask about it, didn't question it, just as soon as you could form a logical thought— you were holding him to your heart.

percy and you have been neighbors since you both were thirteen, after his mom and him had moved into the apartment just bellow yours. the friendship blossomed when after some kids from his school decided that it was funny to terrorize him at home, too. and his crush on you had started when you showed with a umbrella ready to chase them off one hit at the time.

the rest of your relationship went down with soft touches, pinning from both sides, and sweet notes during his time at home— which wasn't a lot due to his time in his all holy super camp.

still, the both of you had cherished the little moments you two could share together. and in his sixteen birthday, you decided to seal the deal by gifting him your first kiss.

after long talks, a lot of reassurance for percy's wounded heart, and many excuses, it happened. four whole months of plain love and happiness, with little sides of bits of truths he could offer you.

'my family is... messy, so messy. i can't even tell you about it,' he said once. and you understood and promised to wait until he could spill the beans.

that was, until he disappeared from the face of the earth.

you fell asleep in his arm after playing Moana for him, and the next morning, there was nothing but a peacock feather tangled into your hair. like it was some fucking joke. no lover. no percy was at the scene.

for the next week, you were livid, searching through every street in new york you could get past through.

until annabeth chase, percy's bestie 2# and someone who you couldn't decide if you wanted to be friends or run for your life from, and grover underwood, percy's bestie 1# took over the case.

you were left in his room, wearing his hoodie and crying into his pillow until you passed out. you and his mom held yourselves together— at least that was what it seemed for an outsider.

your heart was irreparable, months started to pass and there was no signs from him. dreams that once gave you a sweet relief started to turn sour and not even in the darkest time of the day you were able to escape the pain.

one month, two, three... it seemed endless, and soon you were left with nothing but the memories of him. since the tears you had shred for him had washed away the smell of him from his clothes, and your lips couldn't remember how sweet his mouth was.

percy jackson was gone.

four months, five, and six, and there was only anger bottling up inside you. more and more.

"come back to me," you cried, hugging the jellycat penguin named percy you had bought for him— the same one he so gently loved and used every night. the habit to buy him more and more stayed with you, but that one was his favorite. and over the course of the months, it had been your comfort for when you wanted to hug him, but oh! you couldn't.

"just... please, come back to me, perce, i don't want to do this without you."

the endless nights of sleep turned into nights of overthinking. maybe if i held him tighter, maybe if i kissed him more, maybe if i told him i loved him—

maybe percy would still be here.

you buried yourself deeper and deeper in that pit of hell.

it was another shitty day of crying, missing, and cursing in the jackson house from your part when the phone rang. paul and sally had left you in the apartment to study. the house was silent but your head was full, of pain, of hope, of aching.

"i'm going!" like the person calling would even hear, you pulled yourself from percy's bed, dragging the blue bunny stuffy you had named mar for the last 18th with you, groaning at the sun hitting your eyes after an ocean flowed from your eyes.

"hi?"

silence.

"anyone there? is this just some stupid prank?"

it wasn't. percy was on the other line doing his best to not pass out. gods, he had missed you so much...

"i'm going to hang up if you don't talk soon—"

"hi, baby... i miss you."

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x you #a vampire kiss #bella's written love #a bloody love letter #the son of neptune

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frannyzooey · 4 months ago

Text

On the Green: 4

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: age gap, mature-ish, bordering on explicit?

A/N: thank you thank you thank you to @imaswellkid for reassuring me that I actually understand this man in some capacity and for giving me praise when I needed it the most. ily. ❤ thank you also to @the-scandalorian who had the patience to decipher my half-asleep ramblings and assure me that I was on the right path. ily. ❤ and thank you to YOU, reader, for sticking with me during my unintentional months long hiatus of this story - I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

The back of your suit disappears in the lush greenery as he follows you through the forest. You guide him deeper and deeper, the light reflecting off your helmet flickering between the leaves. Moss gives way to thick, creeping vines, and then the earth opens up into a deep, gaping pit.

You stand at the edge, and his glove reaches through the air to pull you away from danger but before he can grasp your suit – you jump.

You’re at the bottom of the pit together, your profile alight as he watches you dig. His eyes slip over the flutter of your lashes, the tip of your nose, your plush lips. You turn and say something to him, and he smiles. Opening his mouth to reply, he tries to take a breath in, but the air is…thinner. Like his suit has a leak.

He checks his filter and when he looks up, you’re gone, the connection hose between your suits cut.

You’re running again, and he’s chasing you.

Ezra.

It’s your voice, but it doesn’t sound the same as it does from within his helmet. It sounds like you’re outside of him and inside of him all at once, whispering his name. He loses sight of you, and panic blooms in his chest. His lungs constrict with every gasp for air, his body breaking out in a sweat underneath his suit and then several things happen all at once:

He’s in the pod with you beneath him, your body arching underneath his.

A moan breaks free of your throat; a masked person hiding in the bushes before they disappear.

A scream – he can’t decide if it’s a cry of ecstasy or of pain – and he’s pushing forward between your spread thighs.

Ezra.

He reaches for your face, your lips parting to allow for his thumb to press inside.

He does; another masked person peering in through the pod window.

Ezra, you moan.

You suck hard on his thumb, a deep groan reverberating from his throat as his hips rock forward and —

He jerks awake.

With his heart pounding and his cock hard, you perch at the edge of his cot, your delicate face etched with worry.

“Ezra. Ezra, hey.”

Your hand presses down on his chest, and he covers it with his own for a moment as the surroundings of the pod become clearer, sharper. Your face comes into focus, a luminous, soft thing in the hazy dark and for a split second, he feels an overwhelming draw towards you. As if he should sit up and meet your mouth with his.

His cock throbs, and he flinches. Shit.

“Hey,” he breathes, taking his hand off yours. He sits up, trying to disguise the aching heft of his cock under his thermals. They leave nothing to the imagination – he knows, since he’s seen you in yours.

“You okay?” you ask. “Another nightmare?”

He’s used to them after being in this line of work for as long as he’s been in it, but he’s not used to someone else seeing them. He feels slightly sheepish, but can’t decide if it’s because he feels vulnerable or guilty, like you know what he was dreaming about.

“Seems so,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting ruefully. “Sorry to have woken you, Birdie.”

You shrug. “Wanna talk about it?”

He pauses. “Not particularly, no.”

He’s grateful for the way you immediately drop it.

Weeks on the Green have left you with a certain sort of familiarity with each other, one that’s grown and flourished in the way only sharing a very small space allows. You know about his nightmares, and he knows things about you as well.

He knows you prefer to start your day in silence: a hot beverage, your headphones, your journal. You look even younger then, swaddled in your blanket by the window, your face still puffy with sleep.

You like it neat, a good balance to his own disarray.

You’re a good cook, which has saved him from a diet that used to consist purely of Bits Bars.

You’re methodical and measured, which, paired with his own impulsive ways, makes for a good partnership.

However, he’s been careful beyond that.

Whatever role you assumed during life with your father is not one he intends to make you relive. You’ve taken every single thing he’s thrown at you in stride, but to make up for it, he’s tried to balance the scales by teaching you anything he can. He hasn’t allowed you to assume the role of caretaker. You’re equals, or, if anything, he’s over corrected in some sort of fucked up recompense for everything you went through before this. Just like he promised, he’s protected you.

And he’s needed to – with word getting out about your ship, he’s had to take care of two more people in the last month alone. He taught you how to shoot after you asked him to, and he was grateful for it later on when the second one almost got the better of him. It was a close call, and he hated you being in it.

Hated the man more though, which he satisfied with a shot between his eyes.

He blamed the pull towards you after that on the adrenaline, but he wasn’t being honest with himself. It began long before that. The lessons themselves had been tests of his self-control: your smaller back tucked against his chest, your eagerness and willingness to learn, the way you preened under his praise.

He fucked his fist in the shower that night and blamed it on so many things: the needed release of stress, the forced proximity, how long it’s been since he was able to sink into a willing partner. His loneliness crept into the dark room while you slept that night and he thought about how, until now, it had been satisfied with your close companionship.

That night, he’d laid awake and wondered how eager you’d be underneath his hands.

Would you beg him to teach you what he likes? Would you ask for more the way you do now that he’s encouraged it?

Then the dreams started, and it got worse. Your face, so close to his each time you woke him. The warmth of your body next to his cot. They only made the urge to protect you fiercer, both from himself and the scavengers, and that didn’t even take into account the real threat. The one he’s waited for to show up since he found you. The one who he promised –

They appear in his dreams, alongside you. Hiding in the bushes, peering in the windows. But they aren’t ones who come looking. They wait for you to come to them, and so far, he’s avoided it at all costs. He made that deal when he was desperate for a ship, but now he’s more desperate to keep you safe.

You both need to get off this fucking planet.

He shakes the thought of the others free as you crawl back to your own cot. Your headphones discarded on the floor next to your face down journal and your rumpled socks, you tug the blanket up around your shoulders, rolling over to go back to sleep.

Too unsettled to follow you, he stays awake.

–

He watches you frown in concentration, focusing on the tiny piece of metal in your hand.

Your fingers are so much more nimble than his, but even you’re having a hard time finding purchase. It slips within your grip the longer you hold it, and not for the first time, he marvels at something seemingly so insignificant in size, yet so crucial to your plan. The converter in your palm is what sparks the engines to life – just a tiny scrap of intricate wiring, one of many that clips into a board that then fits neatly beneath a panel on the floor.

And unfortunately, the thing that took the hardest brunt of impact upon your rough landing.

There are forty in total needed and you have twelve that function. Thirteen, he counts, if you’re successful with this one.

Satisfied with your work, you blow gently on the piece. His eyes drop to your mouth when you purse your lips, and it stays on your profile until you break his reverie, handing the converter to him.

He blows out a breath, prepping the voltage pen.

“Here goes nothing, little bird.”

He attaches the pen to the converter, and the pod is silent for a fraction of a second.

His thumb presses forward and – red.

“Fuck,” you mutter, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t understand what the issue is.” The statement is laced with frustration, and he runs a broad hand down his face before dropping it onto his lap. “Do you have any idea?”

You shake your head, defeat etched into your features. “I wish. I’ve rewired it a couple of times. I’m scared if I keep messing with it, it’ll strip what there is to work with.”

Leaning back on your hands, you arch your back to stretch the muscles and the action draws his gaze downwards, focusing on the way he can see your chest through your tight thermals.

“I feel like we should call it,” you suggest. “We’ve been at it for ages, and I’m starving.”

You crawl over to the cupboard next to your bed, your pert little ass in the air as you rifle through the contents and he thinks about how he’s starving too. His mouth waters, and his tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip.

“I can read through the manual again,” you start to say, the rest of your words fading into the background as he continues to stare. Your thighs, the flare of your hips, the peek he has of your cunt. He can see the shape of it through your leggings, a tiny hot little space that he imagines the heat of. He longs to touch it. It calls for his fingers, or his tongue and he imagines the taste of it through the thin material.

What would you sound like if he put his mouth on you that way? Would you let him?

“Maybe I missed something.” You straighten, sitting on your knees to thumb through the pages of the ship’s manual and the youthful way you bite your lip as you study it stirs shame in his gut. It’s a sensation he’s not used to, and though it would normally be easy to ignore, he can’t. Not when it comes to you.

You are so fucking young, and he needs to get out of here.

Still, he wonders if you feel it like he does. The tension that fills the space sometimes, the magnet that pulls the two of you together. He might be inclined to say you don’t feel it…but he also knows people. He’s seen a flicker of interest on your face, he’s seen your pretty eyes hooded with what he’s sure was lust. With anyone else, he’d have already broached the subject of a…mutual arrangement, but with you, guilt stops him every time. He’s not used to the feeling stopping him from doing anything, but the imbalance of the situation is too much for even him to think about taking advantage of.

Though if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t say no.

You continue to flip through the manual, and he imagines you making the first move. Asking him to help with an ache you have, telling him only his fingers could soothe it. You, hovering at the side of his cot, whispering please. It’s perverse, the dynamic that makes him throb. You, helpless and begging for relief, and him, competent and so very willing.

Your youth plays into it, he’s sure. Your eagerness does too. You’re so sweet, and it’s been so long – which is exactly why he shouldn’t even think about sullying you with his dirty hands.

You want it though, he can tell. Maybe not everything he wants, but you do want. You’ve dirtied your hands and liked it, reveled in the things he’s been able to teach you: how to defend yourself, how to shoot, how to dig and plot and survive.

You’re a fighter, and he loves it.

He feels your eyes on him.

What would you do if he stood up and took what he wanted?

“Ezra?”

He blinks at the sound of your voice bringing him back to the present.

“Want some dinner?”

“Sure.” .

Watching you cook, he’s momentarily transported outside this pod, off this planet and into wherever you lived before this. Every action is a practiced, deft one. You work in silence, as if you’re used to it. A solitary creature, much like himself. Not by choice though – also much like himself. He’d almost think you prefer to be alone, but the way you’ve leaned into his companionship tells him differently.

Feeling the guilt press against his ribcage again when he hungrily takes in the nape of your neck, he tamps it down. Helping you instead of fantasizing about you is the least he can fucking do.

He comes to stand next to you, and you look up at him, confused.

“Want some help?”

You smile, and he mirrors it, taking the meal packet from your hands. Dehydrated rations vacuum sealed in tiny pouches, he pours the contents of two into the pan on the stove, adding water. He stirs for a moment, watching a porridge of sorts form. Chicken, he thinks, from the color of it.

“I can’t say this looks entirely appetizing.”

“Feel free to feast on your Bits bars,” you toss back, and the edge of his mouth lifts.

“Now now, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat it.”

You set the bowls out, and he pours the contents of the pan into them, dividing the portions up. Your cots parallel to each other’s, he sits across from you, each of you cradling a bowl in your hands.

Rain hits the roof harder, making the small space intimate.

“What are we going to do if we can’t fix it?”

Your question gives him pause, but it’s your face that affects him more. So open, so trusting. Looking to him for guidance and reassurance, and an image of you flat on your back on your cot with the same face flashes through his mind. He clears his throat.

“Somethin’ I’ve been trying to avoid,” he replies. “Though it seems that I can no longer.”

You wait, and he meets your eyes directly.

“We’re going to have to scavenge some parts,” he says. You chew thoughtfully for a moment, and he keeps his eyes on your own, studying your expression. He lifts his eyebrow in question. “You ready to be my right hand man?”

“...I think so,” you reply hesitantly. “I mean, I’ve got the hang of the thrower.”

“That you do,” he agrees, taking a bite of his dinner.

You picked it up much faster than he thought, but it shouldn’t have surprised him the way it did. You were a determined, fierce creature – one who was capable of so much more than you thought you were, and one who reveled in it every time he encouraged you to learn something new. Sometimes, when he thought about the man he never knew, he felt frustration flare bright. He wasted you. You could have been so much more, and not just a harvester partner either.

You could still be so much more, he reasons – and not for the first time, he wonders what will become of you once you go home. He’ll be sad to miss it.

“Do you think I can do it?”

He lets the question sit for a moment. Can you? Yes. Should you? That’s a question he can’t answer. You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. But you are here, and so you have to do what you have to do.

He leans forward, as if to let you in on a secret.

“I think you can do anything, little bird.”

You smile, and he returns it – but only for a moment, before his expression sobers.

“We need a few things, and I don’t think we can get them all from the same ship. That means we’ll have to throw ourselves in the face of confrontation more than a few times. You understand?”

You nod. “What do you need me to do?”

The question is asked without hesitation, and he fights the urge to tell you to forget he ever said anything. That he’ll find another way to get the two of you out of here without putting you in direct danger. His mind races for an alternative…but there isn’t one. He knows what this place demands of people. There isn’t any hiding from it; it’s better you understand the risk and prepare for it.

“I’ll be the muscle, you the mechanic. I’ll need your nimble fingers to harvest those converters. I know where we can find some, but it might take us a couple cycles to get them all.”

“Where?”

“The other prospectors that are here. They have ships – between those and some wreckage sites I’ve come across, I’m hopeful we can gather enough for what we need. I’m not sure if they’ll be functioning or not, but it’s worth a try.”

You nod in agreement, and he scrapes the rest of his bowl clean. Spooning it into his mouth, he catches the way your eyes linger on the action and he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. You make it too easy with your expressive face, and feeling guilty only goes so far against his impulses.

Keeping his eyes on you, he sticks the spoon back in his mouth with relish, sucking it clean.

“Tastes sweeter than I thought it would,” he hums.

You swallow hard, staring at his throat. He feels the thrill of victory, but only for a split second though, until the tension between your bodies immediately fills the small space. Your eyes hood, and his own calculating gaze narrows. He drags his tongue across his bottom lip, taking note of the way you watch it.

Will you ask him now?

Taking a deep breath, you stand instead and reach for his bowl.

He hands it to you, keeping his eyes on your ass while you walk away.

—

It started with the lessons.

Actually, it began in flickers before that: glimpses of his profile, the feeling of his arm across your chest when he stopped you from tripping over a vine, the sound of his steady breathing in the night. The lessons had only amplified it, dragging the fleeting sparks of attraction to the surface, letting them catch fire under the intensity of his presence.

You asked him to teach you how to shoot and the whole while, you felt it dripping down your spine to pool between your thighs. Two suits between you, and every word he uttered through the comm link left you feeling stripped bare.

“Easy does it,” he murmured. The speaker in your helmet added husk to his voice, and that only made it worse.

“Grip it harder,” he said, pressing his hand around yours, and your knees almost buckled.

He must have felt the tension, because he brought it up afterwards. Not directly, but that was never his way. He danced around it, until he pounced.

“Small space. Before. How did you…seek relief?” He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully.

It was a bold question, but then again – everything he’s done told you he’s a bold man.

“I don’t –” you shied away from the question, looking away. "Let's not talk about it.”

“So you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say that, I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“So you did?” His eyebrows raised.

No, you didn’t, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Why are you so worried about it?” you asked instead, and he lifted his hands in surrender.

“Not worried, little bird. Just curious.”

He was always curious - and that was the issue. It wasn’t true attraction he felt, but rather misplaced attraction on your part. When you thought about it for too long, you felt foolish and immature. It wasn’t him, it was the situation. He was too attentive for his own good, too charming. He thought of you as someone who was dependent on him, not someone to be attracted to. Besides, how could it be him? Not only someone with ages more experience than you, but also someone so…rough? A murderer?

A murderer that’s done so only for you, a small voice whispered inside your head.

Logic told you that you were too young, too inexperienced for a man like that. But it didn’t stop your treacherous mind from rebelling.

You did seek relief that night, hours after he teased you about it. The second he went to shower, you laid down on your cot and spread your thighs and let the fire you felt earlier consume you. You recalled his words, his touch, the solid breadth of his body behind yours. It didn’t take long with how worked up you were, but afterwards, you felt overwhelming shame. You scolded yourself, telling yourself never again. It was a violation of his fucking privacy for fucks sake, a violation of his boundaries that you did it while he was stuck inside the same small container with you. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would mind, but still, the guilt consumed you for days, so bad that you couldn’t even meet Ezra’s eyes for fear that he would know.

You felt like your fingertips were branded red, your come a permanent stain on the skin.

Days later, you did it again.

You couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like everything he did was unintentionally filthy. The phrases he said, the little grunts he let out while working, the strain in his voice sometimes through the helmet. Everything sounded like a double entendre to your horny, shameful ears and that said nothing for the way he looked at you.

You never stood a chance against that empty promise to yourself.

Weeks of living together has taught you that he likes to shower at night before bed, and tonight is no exception. You watch as he gathers his clothes from underneath his cot, his thermals stretching across his broad back. The muscles shift underneath the thin fabric, and you track every movement out of the corner of your eye.

Pretending to clean the dishes, you’ve been waiting all day for this, and after today especially, it takes everything you have to feign nonchalance.

That spoon. The way he licked it, the sound he made, the look on his face. The mental image joins others: his hands while he works, the shift of his back muscles underneath his thermals, the heat of his knee knocking into yours when he sits close. Sounds join: his breathing through the commlink, the soft sound in the back of his throat that he makes when he shifts in his sleep.

Images and sounds cycle rapidly through your head, all joining the swirl of arousal that feels like an empty pit low in your belly and it’s everything you can do to wait until you’re sure he’s showering before you bend over the kitchen counter, thrusting a hand beneath your thermals.

The second your fingers find slippery wetness, you sigh with relief. It’s a pained sigh though, one of desperation that has you rubbing the pads of your fingers over your clit with a steady, firm press as you bite your lip to quell the telltale sounds of what you’re doing. You hurt with the way you’ve wanted him, made worse by his close proximity. It’s been raining for days and you’ve been stuck inside with him and the sounds he made last night while he was sleeping echo in your mind. You breathe hard, condensation fogging the counter top.

The sound of water splashing in the background, your imagination supplies the rest:

His tanned skin, flush with heat. His hair, even darker when wet. The line of his throat as he tips his head back, the swirl of hair around his belly button and down, the broadness of his shoulders in that small space. His forearms flexing as he washes himself – an image that automatically turns into his hand braced on the wall of the shower, steam filling the air around him as his other hand pumps frantically between his thighs –

You climb higher and higher, a heady pulse throbbing between your legs, your thighs trembling as you ascend with frantic, little whines between your clenched teeth.

The phantom weight of his cock in your grip and then the smooth, blunt tip of it sliding across your cheek, between your breasts, your lips stretching around it as your tongue molds to fit the underside.

You don’t have a ton of experience under your belt, but you have enough to know what a cock feels like. His though? Would it be thicker? Bigger? You picture him stripping out of his suit the way he does, his thermal inching up just enough to see the thatch of hair that collects underneath his belly button to lead down beneath his waistband, and you start to come, pressing your face into the crook of your arm to muffle the sound.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Watch my fingers.”

“Easy, easy, Birdie. That’s it.”

“Hold it nice and tight. That’s it.”

Every word he’s spoken to you taken out of context to supply the scene in your head, you bite the fabric of your thermal when you come. You let out a breathless sob, your cunt pulsing as the sparks of your release burst bright between your hips, and your fingers work the last dregs of it out, savoring the intensity of satisfying the ache you’ve felt all day.

You slump against the counter, your limp hand resting between your thighs and catch your breath. The blood rushing through your ears fades, clarity bringing the sound of silence.

Silence.

The shower is off.

–

He heard it.

He thought he was hearing things as he dried off; lingering echoes that remained from his release moments ago. It was faint, but when he paused toweling, he heard it.

A muffled groan, a soft whine and even while still feeling the throbs of the spend he painted the shower wall with, he begins to harden.

He fucking knew it. He clasps himself in hand, giving his cock a firm squeeze, and listens.

There is silence on the other side of the door, and he wonders where you are in the pod right now. Where did you end up when you took your relief? He pictures it, and the flare of lust that instantly clouds his vision almost has him opening the door without getting dressed. He’ll come and find you, push you down onto your cot, rip the clothes off that have been giving him everything and nothing all at once these weeks and finally consume you, like you’ve consumed him.

He dresses quickly, pulling his thermals over still damp skin. Opening the shower compartment, he finds you at the sink, scrubbing your hands.

In the kitchen? You didn’t even lay down on your cot? Your need must have been too urgent, and he grins at the idea. Will you let him fuck you there?

He feigns ignorance, coming to lean casually against the counter. Leaning in close, he wears a mask of politeness. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

“No problem,” you reply, not meeting his eyes.

In any other situation, he’d revel in the game of cat and mouse. He’d plot out ways to get you to break or bend to his will, letting you dangle on the edge until you were begging him for relief. But now…he pauses.

“You okay, Birdie?”

“Yea.” Your expression is one of fake brightness, your eyes giving it away. “Just…thinking about tomorrow.”

It’s clear that’s not the whole truth. He knows what he heard and from the rapid beat of your pulse under your delicate skin tells him that you’re obviously hiding something, but the mention of tomorrow is like being doused with cold water.

Tomorrow, when he brings you out into the Green, putting you in the path of danger that you never asked to be in. You never asked for any of this, and he feels sickened at the previous idea of pushing you down on your cot to take what you’re “offering”. He should be focusing on preparing you for the danger that’s out there. He knows better than this, and for the first time in a long time, he feels chastened.

“You’ve got this,” he reassures you, and though he can feel the slight hitch in your breathing when his hand rests on your shoulder, he ignores it. “We’ve got this. As your partner, I swear on my life I won’t let anything happen. Understand?”

He feels you lean slightly into his touch, and suppresses the urge to pull you close. It’s been a long time since he’s comforted anyone, and he’s surprised the impulse comes back so quickly.

You look up at him, and the impulse grows with how vulnerable you look. So open, so trusting – yet resolute in your faith in him.

You nod. “We’ve got this.”

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra/you #ezra/reader

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heavyhitterheaux · 6 months ago

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U-Turn

Gif by @harlowgifs 💕

Synopsis: It's been six months since Scalvo broke up with you, and you’re doing your best to function without him. But when your safety is compromised, he is forced to step back into your life, and hopefully, this time, it will be for good

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Scalvo x ex-girlfriend!reader

Read Part 1 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was close to four in the morning and you hadn't been to sleep yet. The thoughts in your mind were racing a mile and minute and it didn't seem as if they were stopping any time soon. You scrolled through the gallery on your phone that contained pictures of you and Scalvo. You knew at this point that you should have deleted them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You fucking missed him.

It had been a few months since he had broken up with you and you were still obviously hurting. You tried to call him the next day after you confronted him about what he had done all to find out that the number wasn't in service anymore. You found yourself not going into the bakery anymore, but just casually visiting different shops along the same street hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Besides, it was clear that Mr. Besegai wasn't a fan of you.

The crying didn't occur as much anymore and you found yourself trying to do anything that could serve as a distraction from the reality of it all. But the bottom line was that you missed him and wanted him back despite what he may have done.

This was supposed to be your week of vacation from your job, but all you had been doing was laying in bed most of the time.

After everything went down and you had found out about what Scalvo and Cobby did, you weren't sure how to feel. Yes, you were upset at him obviously. But, you could understand why he did it. You weren't making excuses for him in any way, shape, or form but you couldn't imagine a life without your parents.

Your father had the safe replaced and moved it to a safer location, a bank in the middle of the city. Scalvo must have said something to Cobby because a few days after you confronted him, the bracelet mysteriously ended up back at your parents house with your mother finding it in the mailbox. Your father had never said this outloud, but deep down you had a feeling that he knew it was Scalvo. But because he wanted to spare your feelings, he probably didn't want to say anything to you about it. He knew that you had taken the break up hard and still was.

Not wanting to lay there any longer, you decided to get up and get ready to go to the gym in the hopes that it wouldn't be as crowded. After you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, you went into your closet to find a sports bra and a pair of workout shorts to match. You decided on a coral pink matching set from fabletics before you grabbed your black hoodie and slipped on your shoes.

As you made your way downstairs to the parking garage with your phone, car keys, and air pods, you felt uneasy. You couldn't exactly pinpoint why you felt that way, but you turned around to see that there was no one behind you so you shrugged it off.

Unlocking your car, you went to grab the driver's door handle when someone had come up behind you and put a hand over your mouth. Your first reaction was to begin screaming, but that instantly came to a stop when you heard a voice.

“Shh! Don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you.” You turned around to come face to face with Cobby and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“What could you possibly want?” You asked him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, I deserve that. I get it. But sorry about that entire thing with your dad. Scalvo was like you're never going to forgive him, but I was like "but at least you didn't kill her dad so that has to count for something, right? I think I took your break up the hardest out of anyone.”

“Cobby, you talk way too much because you should have gotten to the point already. Why are you here?” You asked him as you slipped your air pod case in your front pocket.

“Oh, right! Totally forgot. You know Scalvo tells me the same thing that I talk too much, but…”

“COBBY!”

“Sorry. Scalvo sent me.”

“Why? We aren't together anymore and we haven't talked in literal months.”

“I know and I feel terrible about that. He was actually nicer when he was dating you believe it or not. He only threatened to shoot me a few times and it would usually be a lot more.”

“Cobby, PLEASE GET TO THE POINT.” You tried not to yell at him, but it came out anyway.

“Hey, no yelling. I'm sensitive. Oh, I remember now. Someone is after you so Scalvo sent me to come and get you.”

“After me for what? And why should I believe you?” You questioned him, because at this point you didn't know what to believe.

“Scalvo has pissed a lot of people off lately and they know about you. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you in order to get to him. And why should you believe me? You are the only person in this universe that Scalvo actually gives a damn about. So if you’ll just come with me, we'll be on our way.” He told you as he was trying to lead you to his motorcycle.

“I am not getting on that death trap and why didn't he come and get me himself if he cares about me so much?”

“Too dangerous.”

“The motorcycle or him coming to get me? And is that a breathalyzer!?”

“Oh yeah to all of that but um, do you mind blowing in it so we can leave?”

“COBBY! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“What!? We won't be able to move!”

“How did you even get here in the first place!?”

“I woke up my kid and made him do it.”

“I need to go back to my apartment for a minute.”

“No the fuck you don't. Excuse my French, but they have been watching you for weeks. Blow into this so we can leave.”

“If you're drunk, you are not driving me anywhere.”

“Y/N! Now is not the time! I have to get you to a safe place! Do you want to argue with me or get kidnapped? I see why you two were together, it's like I'm arguing with Scalvo junior.”

“You need to wipe that thing off before I put it anywhere near my mouth.”

“Ha! That's what she said.”

All you did was look at him and roll your eyes before you walked back to your car in order to get some disinfectant wipes to clean it off. Once you did and blew into it, his motorcycle unlocked.

“Perfect! Here, hop on and put this on.” He told you as he handed you his helmet.

“Do you honestly think my hair will fit in here?” You asked and he just stared at you.

“Look, if I bring you to Scalvo with even a SCRATCH on you, he will have my fucking ass. Just put it on.”

“Fine.” You muttered as you slipped it on over your thick and fluffy curly hair.

The two of you set off into the streets of Boston in the early hours as the world around you was still sleeping.

You didn't know how to feel about seeing Scalvo again. Obviously you missed him, but did he miss you? Well, the answer had to be yes seeing that he felt as if your life was in danger and he was going to do anything in his power to protect you. That's how he was when the two of you were together so you figured that nothing had changed.

Out of nowhere, Cobby had slowed down and pulled into a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and you looked at him confused once he got off the bike.

“Uh? Is the secret hideout a Dunkin Donuts? Why are we here?”

“We're here because I'm hungry. You want anything?

“No. Should we really be making stops? This seems a little too out in the open.”

“It's fine. I'll be two minutes.”

You nodded your head to Cobby as he disappeared inside of the store. In that time, you had taken off the helmet and it was resting in front of you as you played on your phone to keep yourself occupied while waiting for him.

Suddenly you felt the barrel of the gun at the back of your head and knew that whoever was after you to begin with had found you.

“If you scream, I will blow your fucking brains out across this entire parking lot. Get off the motorcycle and follow me. If you try to run, I'll shoot.”

You didn't recognize the voice, but you did as you were told as you held your hands up. Your air pods were still in your pocket as you left your phone on the seat of the motorcycle hoping that Cobby would know that he could track you. If not, Scalvo would know to pick up on it. Now would be the perfect time for Cobby to make an appearance, but he wasn't even looking in your direction.

Fuck.

Once you came face to face with the man, you knew you had seen him before but wasn't quite sure where. He led you to his car and as he was putting you in the back of it, Cobby was leaving the store and immediately ran to the car hoping to get to you in time.

“Fuck! Y/N!”

But it was too late as the car then took off. Cobby memorized the license plate number in the hopes that it would help him to track you down.

But first things first.

He had to tell Scalvo that they had you.

And knew that he wasn't about to hear the end of it.

As Cobby let himself into the warehouse where he and Scalvo were hiding out, he climbed the steps to see Scalvo playing some video game. He heard him approaching and quickly pressed pause, but he already knew that something was wrong because he only heard one set of footsteps. He turned around to see Cobby alone which left him genuinely confused.

Even though you hadn’t seen Scalvo in these six months that had passed, he had seen you. He always made sure to check on you from a distance to make sure that you were okay and that no harm would come to you. He knew that because of what he did to Don, that more than likely it would put you in danger after he had seen him outside of your job. Scalvo made sure that he didn’t notice him, but his eyes never left sight of you. That was when Scalvo knew that you had become a target and was going to make sure that nothing happened to you because of the decisions that he decided to make.

“Sooo…..”

“Where's Y/N? You told me that you had her.” He asked as he looked behind Cobby to see that no one had followed in behind him.

“Um yeah, so about that….” Cobby started to say while scratching the back of his neck.

All Scalvo did was take a deep breath before saying anything.

“Cobby, you have three fucking seconds. Where is my girl?”

“Okay, I picked her up, scared the shit out of her by the way, went to Dunkin Donuts because I was hungry and I left her outside while I ran in and…”

Cobby didn't even get to finish his sentence before Scalvo’s hand was around his neck and had him pinned against the wall. His head hitting it with a thud.

“You fucking left her by herself when I told you to come straight back here?”

“Are you still in therapy? Because this right here doesn't really give me therapy vibes.”

“FUCK! COBBY I GAVE YOU ONE FUCKING JOB! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE DID IT MYSELF!”

“We can fix this! I have the license plate number and her phone. She had her air pods too and I’m guessing that she still does.”

“Just give it here so I can see if I can track her. You better pray that she's alive when we find her. Otherwise, I will literally shoot you.”

“I had a feeling that you were going to say that.”

“I just want for her to be okay, she needs to be okay. I can’t have her getting hurt because of me and what my job is.”

“Oh, the feelings are coming out again. Hey, you never answered my question, are you still in therapy or not? That has to be one of the best things to happen since you were in a relationship with Y/N. She looks great by the way, dyed her hair again to fire engine red.”

“I know because I saw it last week, but Cobby, please not now. It is taking everything in me not to throw you out of the window and yes, I’m still in therapy because I have to deal with your stupid ass.”

“I knew you had to be! Otherwise, I knew I probably would have been kissing concrete right now. Hey, I got an extra donut for you along with a breakfast sandwich. I was going to get you coffee until I realized that my motorcycle doesn't have a cup holder.”

Scalvo glanced at him as he set everything in front of him as he had his laptop open and was trying to track where you might be. He also unlocked your iphone since he knew the passcode had been his birthday. Thank goodness you hadn’t changed it and seeing that it was still the same also tugged on his heartstrings.

He was making a promise to himself at this very moment.

When he got you back, because it wasn’t a matter of how, but since he knew that it was going to happen, if you were to give him another chance at being in a relationship with you, he didn’t plan on wasting it.

But then again, you really probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him at this point because of the situation that you were in.

Only thing he could think about is if you were hurt. If he found out that you were, he wouldn’t hesitate killing the person or people who had brought you harm.

“Not hungry. Only thing I’m focused on is getting my girl back.”

“I love this for you, should we consider this your redemption arc in a way as it relates to her? I see the two of you getting back together, you need her in the worst way. Maybe you wouldn’t be so mad all the time if you got some pussy once in a while.”

“Cobby….”

“Shutting up now, I’ll be over here. Let me know when you find something. But she misses you and misses you bad. You should have seen her face when I told her that you had sent me to get her. So, that could be more motivation for you to find her.”

–

When you had gotten placed in the back of the car by a man you learned whose name was Rob, you were quickly blindfolded so there was no way that you would be able to tell where you were going and was praying that Scalvo came to save you.

All you did was focus on your breathing and trying to stay calm.

Once you felt the car come to a complete stop, the backseat door opened and you were roughly grabbed from the car and began walking inside of what you obviously knew to be a building.

Were you even still in Boston anymore?

The car had been driving for a long time, maybe an hour or two so at this point the answer was probably no.

Once you were placed in a chair and a rope was tied around your waist as well as your wrist and ankles, the blindfold finally came off.

At this point, you knew that screaming probably wouldn’t do you any good in this situation and the best thing for you to do was to remain calm and answer their questions as you saw fit. But that would be easy since you knew absolutely nothing. You hadn’t seen him or had contact with him in over six months and it felt that he honestly disappeared from your life and never existed to begin with.

There were three different men standing in front of you as your eyes had adjusted to the light and the short fat man in the center was the first to speak.

“Hmm, Scalvo sure did get him a pretty one.” He told you as his hand lightly grazed your cheek making you flinch away from him.

Only Scalvo was allowed to do that.

When he didn’t receive an answer from you, he spoke up again.

“Cat got your tongue, or is it too early in the morning?” He asked you as all you did was stare straight ahead at him.

You were scared shitless, but you were for damn sure not about to let them see it. The moment that you did, you knew that they would be able to use it to their advantage.

“I see you don’t want to talk, but maybe if we introduce ourselves and get to know one another a little better it might make you more comfortable? I’m Don, that’s Rob over there who picked you up and brought you to me, and over there is Booch. And there’s no reason for you to tell us your name since we already know who you are, Y/N Lawson. Daughter of James and Scarlet Lawson. Only child. Graduate of University of Maryland College Park with a degree in forensics specializing in forensic nursing from a previous degree that you had gotten at Morgan State University’s nursing program. Who lives in an luxury apartment off of 33rd street with her cat named Mojito, goes to the gym at least five days a week, works at the hospital near the baseball stadium, drives a BMW that was a gift from her parents upon graduation and last but certainly not least, the girlfriend of our beloved Scalvo. The little fucker that had been a constant thorn in my side and my reason for these constant headaches as he and his friends stole my fucking money and also killed one of my guys who works for me. Now, we can do this the easy way, because I’m all about getting and having options or the hard way, the choice is up to you, sweetheart. Now I’ll let you go free and we can pretend like this never happened, as soon as you tell me where your boyfriend is and his dumbass sidekick Cobby. I’m surprised that fucker is still alive. Now be a good girl and tell us where he is.” Don told you as he got into your face, but all you continued to do was stare at him.

No one called you good girl except Scalvo.

“Y/N, I’m being nice right now and it would be best if you would cooperate with me. I gave you options and I’m being patient. However, you must understand that my patience is thin, especially when it comes to things like this.”

All you did once again was stare at him and he nodded silently to himself before you felt his hand give you a hard slap to your face making your head turn abruptly in the other direction. You had the sudden urge to spit and when you did, you saw blood.

It was now stinging and tears pricked your eyes, but you made sure to not let them fall. There was no way in hell that you would ever tell them where Scalvo was and besides you didn’t even know. At this point, kidnapping you was absolutely pointless.

However, you did know that all three of them were in for a rude awakening once Scalvo had found out what they had done and especially Don that had put his hands on you. You delighted in the fact that it was only a matter of time that Scalvo would blow his brains out for messing with his girl.

“Y/N, I tried to be nice and ask you before I had to do that, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Where’s Scalvo?”

“We’ve been broken up for six months and I haven’t talked to him since. I don’t know where he is, but I can assure you once he does find me and finds out that you put your hands on me, you will definitely be burning in hell.” You whispered to him as he was eye level with you before promptly spitting in his face.

“Fucking bitch.” He immediately said as he pulled back wiping at his face where your bloody spit had landed and Rob and Booch looked to Don to ask permission of what to do next.

“Waterboard her. I don’t believe her for a second. She’s obviously protecting him.”

You sighed to yourself as you remembered when you had first met Scalvo when his hair was damp and it almost looked as if he had taken a shower when he came from the storage room in Mr. Besegai’s bakery.

That’s what Richie and Mr. Besegai were doing to him.

Waterboarding.

When all this was said and done, you planned on having a serious talk with Scalvo about all of this and how much he lied to you. However, he was doing his best to shield you from this life so you couldn’t totally blame him for it.

You just prayed that he was able to find you in time.

Now was not the time for you to die.

You didn’t want to die.

Who knew that meeting that cute boy in the bakery would lead to all of this?

By this time, Scalvo had quickly grown frustrated with the fact that tracking the license plate went absolutely nowhere. They were able to trace it back to being a rental and not having a true owner. The other part that frustrated him was that your air pods must have been dead or broken because he wasn't able to trace them either.

Cobby had called Rory who had worked on a few jobs with them to offer some type of help, but Scalvo was simply annoyed by the two old guys who couldn't seem to follow directions. Every time those three went out to do a job, some wild ass shit would happen and Scalvo was surprised that they all were alive when all was said and done.

“What if we ask Mr. Besegai for help?” Rory asked and Scalvo turned and stared at him in disbelief.

“For what? This doesn't make him any money so he definitely doesn't care. Besides, he was the one who had me rob my girlfriend's parents. Don't we remember when all that happened? He threatened to fucking kill her if I didn't do it.”

“Oh, right Cobby told me about that.” He said as he suddenly remembered.

“I'm out of fucking ideas.” Scalvo whispered to himself before his phone rang from an unknown number. He stared at it for a second and then quickly picked it up and put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Scalvo! Surprised I haven't heard from you yet. How's everything going?” Scalvo immediately recognized the voice that belonged to Rob.

“Don't fucking play with me. Where's Y/N?”

“Oh, the pretty little thing we picked up yesterday? She's great. For now.” He told him as he was keeping an eye on you. Your head was slouched down and he was for certain that you were asleep, but you in fact were listening to everything that was happening.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Calm down, pretty boy. She's alive. She actually fell asleep not too long ago after she got tired of us waterboarding her.”

It was at that moment that all Scalvo could see was red.

“If she's alive, put her on the phone.”

“As you wish.”

Rob walked over to you and forcefully grabbed you by a handful of your curly hair in order for you to look up and you instantly let out a scream. Hearing it in real time made Scalvo’s heart drop.

“You have a call sweetheart, it's your beloved boyfriend.”

As you heard these words, you wasted no time in yelling his name.

“Scalvo!”

“I'm coming for you princess. I…”

“Okay, that's enough.” Dob said as he snatched the phone back making you sigh in defeat.

“She's a tough one. But anyway, if you want her back you need to rightfully give me back what's mine.”

“I'm not giving you a got damn thing.”

“Hmm, so if I were to put a bullet in her head right now, you wouldn't care? Is that what you’re telling me?” He asked as he cocked his gun next to the phone so that he would be able to hear it.

“If you cause her any more harm, me and you are going to have a conversation and it will include me blowing your brains out. Where the fuck is she?”

“Scalvo, let's be real. I’m not telling you anything. Give me what I want and you can get your girlfriend back. When you're ready to take me up on my offer, you let me know. But you don't have a lot of time. I am giving you forty-eight hours to give me back my money otherwise your girlfriend will get delivered to you in pieces. Have a good day.”

After Rob had hung up the phone, it was silent as Rory and Cobby were looking at one another before they both looked over at Scalvo.

“Okay, what now?” Cobby quietly asked and Scalvo quickly got an idea.

“Cobby, did she have her pink coach wallet with her when you went to get her?”

“Yeah, she was holding it.”

“Shit, why didn't I think of this before?” He said as he quickly typed the password into his phone to unlock it.

“Think of what?” Rory asked and Scalvo quickly shushed him.

“Before we broke up, I put an air tag in her wallet because that's her favorite one and she always has it. It let me know where she was and if she was okay.”

“Stalker much?” Cobby said as he looked at Scalvo who immediately rolled his eyes.

“That's when Mr. Besegai threatened her and I wasn't taking any chances. It's hidden in a part she doesn't use so there was no way she could have known it was there. I couldn't exactly tell her "oh, by the way babe people are threatening you so I'm just going to put this air tag in your wallet to keep you safe. I don't know why I'm explaining myself to either of you, but yeah.”

“Hmm, good point.”

Sure enough, within a matter of seconds, Scalvo was able to see your location and noticed that you were in Portland, Maine.Their dumbasses must have not had removed your wallet from where they currently were.

“Cobby, put in this address.” He told him, and Cobby quickly started to pull up Google on his phone.

“She's at an old warehouse. If we leave now, we probably won't hit a lot of traffic.” He said out loud which made Scalvo and Rory look at him in disbelief.

“Without a plan?” Rory said and surprisingly, Scalvo quickly agreed with him.

“Exactly. Like come on now. When do we ever just go in blindly?” Scalvo asked him and Cobby quickly turned up his nose.

“Oh, so you don't remember….”

“That was different!”

“Sure, sure. Almost got ourselves killed nonetheless.”

“I just need until tonight to plan all of this out. And we can go and get her when they least expect it.” He told both of them.

“Do you need help planning?” Rory asked and Scalvo rolled his eyes.

“Definitely not from you two. Keep your phones on and I'll call you when everything is a go.”

In the back of his mind, all Scalvo could worry about was getting to you in time and not getting himself killed in the process.

It was now midnight and Scalvo called both Cobby and Rory to meet him so that they could go over the plan so everyone was clear on what they had to do. Scalvo had explained the plan at least three times, with both of them interrupting him multiple times, making this seem like an impossible task.

“Okay, just one more time.” Rory told Scalvo as he threw his head back in disbelief.

“What are you not getting!? And wait a minute, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking notes.”

Scalvo immediately scoffed.

“Taking notes? On a kidnapping situation? Really?”

“It helps me stay on task.”

“What are you, four?” He asked him as they were sitting in Scalvo's car a block away from the warehouse.

“There's nothing wrong with being prepared!”

“Both of you get out of my car. NOW.” Scalvo told them as he grabbed his gun out of the glove compartment. Earlier in the day, he had made sure that there were enough bullets in there even though all of them would be going in Don's chest or skull. He wanted to make sure he got the job done and was going to make sure that it was done correctly.

By this time, you had fallen asleep, but was startled when you felt someone come up behind you.

You knew that particular smell of cologne anywhere.

“Shh, princess I'm here. But don't make a sound. We have to be quiet because I need to make sure we get out of here in one piece.” He told you as he leaned down and whispered in your ear.

All you did was nod as you felt him cutting the rope that was around your waist, ankles and wrists. Once they were cut, you immediately massaged your wrists and could see that your skin was red from where the rope had been rubbing against it.

He immediately embraced you and kissed the top of your head and you held onto him for dear life as if he was going to disappear at any moment.

“Go to the left and down the backstairs. Cobby is waiting for you there and his dumbass knows not to leave you this time and keep eyes on you.”

“But…” You started to say and Scalvo immediately cut you off.

“I'll meet you outside. I promise.”

All you did was shake your head at him and tears started forming in your eyes because you were not liking this plan at all. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if he actually got hurt.

“Y/N, you have to trust me. We don't have any time to waste.”

The main reason why he didn't want you in there was because he definitely did not want you seeing him shoot someone, much less killing them.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and he watched you as you opened the door and went down the steps before going and searching for Don, Rob, and Booch.

As promised, Cobby was at the bottom of the stairwell and quickly ushered you toward Scalvo’s car that was a block away making sure that no one was following the both of you.

“At this point, I'm 0 for 2 and you have every reason in the world to be pissed at me right now.” Cobby told you and you simply shrugged.

Scalvo was definitely right about one thing.

Cobby never knew what to say out of his mouth.

Once the two of you reached Scalvo’s car, you slid in the passenger seat and laid your head against the window as Cobby hopped in the driver's seat and drove closer to the warehouse.

The plan was for Scalvo to kill Don along with his minions and set the place on fire. Cobby was going to cut the gas line as soon as Scalvo and Rory walked out of the building.

The two of you sat there on edge waiting for the doors to swing open. Once they finally did, you let out a sigh of relief as Cobby had gotten out of the car and Scalvo quickly taking his place as Rory slipped in the backseat. Cobby came out within a matter of minutes, as the building started to go up in flames.

Once everyone was settled into the car, Scalvo immediately took off and started driving back towards Boston until he suddenly changed his mind. His plan consisted of all of you laying low for a few days before heading back to Boston.

Just in case.

The biggest satisfaction that the night had brought for Scalvo was that you were alive and in one piece. The second part was that Don was begging on his knees for his life when he had finally caught up to him. All Scalvo did in return as put a bullet in his head for all the harm he brought to you.

As far as he was concerned, people could mess with him however much they wanted to, but you were off limits. Him doing this hopefully sent a message to everyone else including Mr. Besegai that he was not the one to mess with. He glanced over at you as he merged onto the highway to see that your head was leaning up against the window and that your eyes were closed. He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell indicating that you were asleep. This was something that he knew would change your perspective of things for the rest of your life.

By the time that all of you had reached the hotel you were mentally and physically exhausted. Not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves, Scalvo drove another hour and a half to put as much distance as he could between all of you and the crime scene. The hotel wasn't super fancy and not anything that you were used to, but you were just excited to be alive. However, it wasn’t on the cheap side either. Only the best for Scalvo’s girl.

Before coming to get you, being the thoughtful person that he was, Scalvo had gone to your apartment and had gotten a few sets of fresh clothes for you knowing that he wasn't letting you out of his sight any time soon.

Once in the hotel room, you took in your surroundings before sitting down in the chair that was near the desk. You had been quiet ever since Scalvo found you and the one thing he wanted to hear was your voice. You sat there as you stared off into space before Scalvo came to kneel down in front of you and gently take your hands in his.

“Princess….” He quietly said and your eyes finally landed on him.

“I have some clothes for you and I want you to get cleaned up and get some sleep. I'll help you.”

When you didn't bother answering him, he tried again.

“Baby, I know that a lot has happened over the past two days, but I need you to do this for me.”

“So, this is why you were always keeping secrets from me? For this exact reason.” You barely said above a whisper and all Scalvo did was nod.

“We can talk about that later, but yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We're going to talk about it now. You know how much I love you and how I told you that I was always worried about you because I knew that something was off. At the very least you could have warned me. You know that I would do absolutely anything for you, no questions asked.”

“I know that now and I should have said something to you, but I didn't want to lose you. You have to understand that. You are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I tried to shield you from this life by breaking up with you, but I only made it worse.” Scalvo confessed as he moved a curl out of your face that had fallen. Your face was bloodied and bruised and it hurt his heart to see you like that.

“I cried myself to sleep every night for two months after you left me and disappeared without a fucking trace. You don't do that to people you love.” You yelled at him as tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks.

When you first saw him, you let out a sigh of relief. Now you were mad and were letting him have it.

“Yes you do in order to protect them. I know you're pissed at me and for good reason. But us arguing is not going to get us anywhere. At least not tonight. I want you to sleep.”

“So you can leave when I fall asleep? And disappear again?”

“No. I'm not letting you out of my sight. It's more dangerous for us not to be together than to be in a relationship. But that's obviously only if you want to. I understand if you tell me no.”

All you did was sit there as Scalvo had gone into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under hot water and brought it back to you to start removing the dried blood off your face. At the first touch, you instantly winced from the sting and pulled back away from him.

“That hurts.”

“I know, babe but I have to do this so nothing will get infected.”

Reluctantly you moved back towards him and he continued to dab at your face with you wincing every few minutes. Scalvo was taking in the cuts on your face and how one side was noticeably more swollen than the other. The two of you were silent as he finished cleaning off your face and when he was done, you finally spoke.

“If we're going to do this, you have to promise me something.”

“Anything, baby. Name it.”

“From now on there cannot be any secrets between us. You have to be 100% honest with me about everything. I don't care how small it is. You know how I feel about lying by now.”

Scalvo nodded his head as he leaned down to take off your shoes and socks.

“And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Do not ever make me worry like that to the point that I thought you were dead again because I will find you and kill you myself.”

Scalvo let out a laugh before he helped you stand up to get into the shower.

“Yes ma'am.”

After you had taken a shower, washed your hair, and styled it, Scalvo had actually remembered to grab your bonnet and he quickly slipped it over your hair. Once you were settled in the king sized bed, Scalvo took a shower himself and you dozed off until you felt the bed dip indicating that he had sat down. He sat there for a few minutes and your concern was growing. You gently put a hand on his shoulder and that was when he decided to put it all out in the open how he was feeling.

“You okay?” You quietly asked and he immediately shook his head no.

“Did something else happen that I don't know about?”

“I literally almost lost you. I almost lost you for good. That was entirely too close. It should have never been that close.”

“But you didn't. You found me and I'm okay.”

“Baby, no you're not. Not a single person that goes through that is okay when it's all said and done. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't get to you in time. All of this happened because of me. You got hurt because of me.”

“Hey, stop. None of that. But you did and I had no doubt that you would.”

“I did. And I thought to myself that my second chance was so close to me that I could reach out and touch it, but it got snatched away from me and I didn't think that this would lead to a happy ending for either of us.” He told you as he turned around to face you.

“But it did. We get a second chance to do it right this time.” You told him as he had laid down next to you and you quickly embraced him as you began to play in his hair.

“I missed this, I missed us.”

“I missed us too and we're going to be okay.” You told him and he leaned forward to capture you in a kiss.

From the moment his lips touched yours, it honestly felt like a wave of electricity flowing through your body. You quickly kissed him back and attempted to straddle him, but he stopped you.

“Not now. I need you to get proper rest first. But, you can have as many free cuddles as you want.” He told you and you simply laid on top of him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You whispered against his chest as he held onto you tightly.

“Hmm, I don't recall, but I'm all ears if you want to tell me again.” He told you before he leaned down to kiss your forehead as he smiled at you.

A few months had passed and things were getting back to being normal, well as normal as they could be considering what had happened. For Scalvo’s comfort and peace of mind, you moved out of your apartment and into another one that was a good distance away from where the first one had been and you quickly asked him to move in with you. You had been without him longer than you had liked, so it was a quick decision that was made on your part. Of course he did so without a second thought.

It was a Saturday morning and Scalvo had plans to meet up with Cobby and Rory on a new job that Mr. Besegai had told them about. It was around seven in the morning when you felt Scalvo leave kisses on your face and you quickly popped your left eye open to look at him seeing that he was dressed and wearing too many clothes for your liking.

“Aht! Aht! Baby, where could you possibly be going? It is seven in the morning on a Saturday. Get back over here and lay with me.”

“I got to meet Cobby and Rory. We got another job to do from Mr. Besegai. I have to meet them at the docks. I won’t be long, princess I promise.” He muttered back to you knowing that you didn't approve. You had told him ever since that incident went down a few months ago that you wanted him out of this life. And of course he told you that it wasn't that easy.

“Scalvo….”

“I know, I know. Just a little while longer. I promise. I just need to stack enough for us to be secure and be able to leave Boston for good.”

“And if you get killed before that, what then?” You asked him as you sat up and crossed your arms.

“It's not going to happen. As long as I know that you're alive on this earth and that I have someone to come home to, I will do everything I can to make sure I get to hold you every night. I love you more than anything in this world. You know that.” He told you as he leaned forward to kiss you. Hearing that made tears prick your eyes, but you quickly wiped it away.

“I love you too. Just go before I change my mind and hold you hostage in this bed.”

“Hmm, you can tie me up later and have your way with me if that's what you're getting at.” He told you as he wiggled his eyebrows and you immediately rolled your eyes at him.

“One hour, princess.” He told you as he grabbed his wallet, keys, and gun from the nightstand.

Having the gun in the bedroom with you was a whole nother discussion and you definitely didn't approve of it. But you knew he did it to keep the both of you safe. This was a step up because when you had first moved in, he slept with it under his pillow.

“I'm holding you to that.”

“Go back to sleep and I'll bring breakfast back for you.”

You nodded as he placed the comforter back over you to tuck you in before kissing your forehead once more.

As he locked the apartment and went down the elevator and out to the parking garage, someone was leaning on his car that was parked next to yours. He made sure that he had a good hold on his gun before approaching them.

When he did, he was startled to find out it was your father.

“Mr. Lawson?”

He turned to him as he took a long sip of his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“I wish I could I just….”

“This won't take long. Less than two minutes and you'll be on your way.”

“Okay, sure.”

“From the moment we met, I knew I had seen you before. So I did my research with a few buddies that I know and found out about you and what exactly you do for Mr. Besegai. Now let me make this perfectly clear because I am only going to say this once. Stay away from my daughter. I don't want her anywhere near someone like you. Besides, what could you possibly offer her? I know what happened a few months ago and that would have never been the case had she not met you. I know that it was you and your little friend Cobby that broke into my house. If you don't, I will easily have the FBI investigate you and put you away for the rest of your life. I don't want to have this conversation again. Have a good day now.”

As soon as he was done talking, he walked to his range rover and slid into the driver's seat and pulled off leaving Scalvo at a loss as to what had just happened.

He couldn't worry about that now, he had a job to do.

However, what scared him the most was knowing that he had to tell you what had just happened.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfiction

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freelancearsonist · 1 year ago

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Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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#cece writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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serafilms · 1 year ago

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song 7! jelly pop (boys planet) + percy jackson (the lyrics are lowkey so embarrassing i can’t lie,,, fire song though please hear me out) (2023 spotify wrapped event)

baby, i’m your jelly, like sugar, it melts into your heart, wow

As you peppered kisses all over his face, Percy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

You hummed happily as you pressed another kiss to his cheek, “Nothing. Just love you.”

Percy blushed, and accepted the rest of your kisses as his hands gripped your waist. The both of you were snuggled against each other on the floor of the Poseidon cabin, leaning on the side of his bed. You weren’t actually in the bed, just in case someone were to barge in and makes a big deal out what looked like a compromising position.

You liked being like this: close to him. You could smell the salt and something grainy as you pressed your nose to his neck. Percy Jackson smelled like the sea.

Percy grinned down at you and brought his hands up to your cheeks. He lifted your face out of the crook of his neck and looked into your eyes, feeling something tickle his heart. He laughed at your squished face and decided it was his turn to kiss it, pressing quick ones to both your cheeks before kissing your lips.

You gave out another happy hum as your hands shifted from his shoulders to clasp together at the back of his neck.

Despite the ocean scent that surrounded him constantly, Percy always tasted sweet. You weren't sure yet if it was an amalgamation of all the blue cupcakes, blue cherry cola, and strawberries, or just because he was, in fact, the sweetest guy ever.

Even after you'd pulled away, you couldn't help but lean in for more quick kisses to his lips. The taste was addictive, and you felt it seeping into your body, as if he was pouring melted candy all over your heart.

Percy accepted them happily, and looked a little disappointed when you'd finally had enough and sat back to stare at him for a second.

He blinked at you. "What?"

"Have you eaten any desserts today?"

"No?"

"No fruit or sugary drinks?"

"No," Percy said, looking increasingly confused.

"Then why do you taste so sweet?"

He stared at your face for a second, taking in how dead serious it was, before he started laughing. "What?"

"Don't try and dodge the question here, Perseus," you scolded, pointing your finger at him accusingly. He only laughed harder.

"Sorry, babe," Percy said between giggles, "Just caught me off guard there."

You threw your hands up in exasperation as your boyfriend tried to calm down. "Seriously, though. You always taste like– like.... jelly."

His eyes still twinkled with mirth but he looked at you as if entertaining your idea seriously. "Like what kind of jelly?"

"What do you mean 'what kind of jelly?'"

"Is it blue?"

"Well, how would I know? It's your mouth? I don't see any blue."

Percy's hands drifted onto your waist again. "How about I give you another kiss so you can figure it out, then?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the smile that fought its way onto your lips. "Calm down there, soldier."

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then slowly made his way down to your jawline and across to the corner of your mouth. You felt your stomach flutter and your resolved crumble as you whined, "Percy, I'm serious here. I want to know."

"Okay, okay," he said, eyes still locked on your lips, "we'll figure it out tomorrow, alright? I promise. It'll be our next big mystery."

"You mean after the one where you disappeared off the face of the Earth for six months?"

"I didn't disappear off the face of the Earth," he huffed, "I was in New Rome."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You grinned. "Okay, the next big mystery it is."

Percy grinned and kissed you again. Oh well, your questions could wait. Percy Jackson was your jelly tasting weirdo, and he wasn't going anywhere.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #written works !#2023 Spotify wrapped event !

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veroniquesboutique · 8 months ago

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A Wife's Intuition - Nanami Kento x Ino Takuma x Reader

Not me disappearing for months after a poll promising a JJK smut fic just to show back up with an unhinged threesome. School's out, and I am back!

You notice immediately that Ino Takuma is in love with your husband Nanami Kento. You are secure enough in your marriage to not be threatened by the crush. In fact, you might be super into it.

Title: A Wife' Intuition

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, Explicit PV Sex, Explicit Anal Sex, bottom Ino Takuma / top Nanami Kento, m-overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, f-receiving oral, threesome - MMF, small age gap between reader/Nanami and Ino, cum inside, pet names (good girl, darling, my dear, sweetheart, my love, etc), fingering, Ino is whiney in this

Characters & ships: husband!Nanami Kento x Ino Takuma x Reader

Word count: 2.9k words

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

You are so secure in your marriage with Nanami Kento that the sight before you of his cock disappearing into Ino Takuma’s ass doesn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, you have the added benefit of Ino’s tongue between your thighs to complement the view.

_________________

This whole thing started because of your wife intuition. Nanami had invited Ino over for dinner a few nights ago, and the whole evening you watched Ino make heart eyes over your entirely oblivious husband. You weren’t convinced Ino had even noticed your presence until you brought out the homemade pineapple upside down cake you made, and even then, he spared little more than a passing glance before gluing his gaze back on Nanami’s jawline and sparkling brown eyes.

You could almost see Ino be carried off by cupid’s arrows.

“Do you know he’s in love with you?” You asked as soon as you shut the door after Ino said his goodbyes. Nanami scoffed, completely taken aback by your observation, as he loosened the tie around his neck and started back to the kitchen to help with clean up.

“In love with me? Are you mad?”

You followed behind him and settled next to him to dry the plates he washed in the sink. It’s an easy routine you fall into every night.

“I just know what it looks like to be in love with you. I’m, like, the expert.” You playfully smirked when he gazed down at you with a high arched eyebrow in disbelief. “He didn’t look over at me once all night. He just kept going ‘yes Mr. Nanami, sir’ and ‘oh Mr. Nanami you’re so funny’ and ‘wow Mr. Nanami you have such interesting stories!’” You mocked Ino’s voice to prove a point, and it made Nanami laugh.

“That’s just respect, sweetheart-”

“No, no I played the same game. I can tell you for sure that it’s not just respect.” You punctuated your thought with a gentle bat of the tea towel in your hand against his forearm as he drained the dishwater from the sink. As you fluttered away to deal with the leftovers, Nanami stayed at the sink for a few long moments, his head busy with thought as he stared out the small window sat right above the sink.

A night or two after that, as you were getting ready for bed, you realized that Nanami was unable to read as he usually did. Instead, he’d go a few pages before zoning out, arm of his glasses gently tapping between his teeth. When you finally got into bed next to him, he didn’t even flinch.

“Earth to Kento?” You tapped him on his shoulder, and he shook ever so slightly from the daydream he was in. “What’s on your mind?”

“Work, naturally,” He answered curtly, and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his response.

“Who’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Work, naturally,” You mocked his tone now, putting on a face to show exactly how weird he sounded. He rolled his eyes, placing his book on the table next to him and settling his glasses on his face to get a good look at you.

“Am I not allowed to be distracted by…disgruntled by work sometimes?”

“Of course you’re allowed to be, but you never sound like that. Something is bothering you.”

“I am sorry that my tone is not perfect for you always, my dear, but-”

“See you only call me dear when you’re being weird about things!” You interrupted him, and it made him blow a sigh out of his nose as he brought a hand up to rub at his chin. He stared at you, waiting for you to back down, but instead, you studied his eyes for what could be bothering him. “So what is distracting you at work?”

“I said disgruntled.”

“You said distracted first,” You tapped your finger on the tip of your nose in thought, thinking, thinking, thinking, and then the light bulb blinked above your head. “You’re distracted by Ino.”

“Absolutely not.” He rolled his eyes as he turned away, but the bright pink blush illuminating his skin gave away his lies. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“Aw, is Kento embarrassed about a little schoolboy crush?” You playfully asked as he sunk into the sheets away from your gaze, but this caused him to stare up at you in disbelief.

“I do not have a crush!”

“I never said you did.”

“I hate these mind games you play.”

“The lady doth protest too much me thinks,” You hummed lowly, and finally in defeat he pressed his head back into the headboard of your shared bed.

“How are you not jealous?” He asked, scratching uncomfortably at the skin behind his ear. You waved a hand up and down your body, pointing out in particular the silky nightie you wore to bed.

“You’re not going to cheat on me. You’re madly in love with me. I’m secure enough in our marriage to not be threatened by a teenage boy-”

“Oh my God, please do not call him that!”

“He’s 19; it’s just the truth.”

“He’s 21, pretty much our age, and totally legal-”

You gasped as he blurted out his response. “Oh my God, you’ve thought about it!”

He groaned loudly at the way you’re running circles around his brain, and he dropped his face into his hands dejectedly. “I’m a terrible husband.” His admittance was barely above a whisper, and you could hear the crack in his voice, and you knew immediately he was taking it too hard. You curled up next to him, patting his arm and shushing him softly.

“Kento, you’re not a terrible husband at all. All married people think about others at some point in their relationship. I’m just surprised at who.”

Nanami groaned again in response.

“Have you ever thought about being with a man before?” You asked softly, and you could nearly feel the skin under your fingers burn as an embarrassed blush shoots through him.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t already had this conversation.”

He considered for a second, finally lifting his head from his hands to stare you down, search for any jealousy behind your eyes, but when you told him you were completely secure, you meant it. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he sighed.

“Perhaps in the past I…considered….it.” “Have you been with a man before?”

There was a beat. “Yes. Well before you.”

You looked up at your husband, and you considered him and the idea of him having been with a man at some point before you, and you felt your own skin heat up. The image made your heart beat a little faster and your skin tingle where he touched you and your head swirl in circles but not from jealousy or anger but from…lust.

He insisted you slept in his arms that night, but neither of you seemed to sleep very well with the thoughts left twirling in your brain. A few days after that is when you made your proposition.

“Kento?” You called to him from the position where you were perched on the couch with your own book in hand. Your husband was fluttering around your house and getting ready for work.

“Yes, my love?”

“What if we ask Ino if he wants to have a threesome?”

Nanami’s first response was a loud crashing sound from in your closet. His second response was a string of swears as he fumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room where you sat. His third response was finally words.

“A threesome? With us?”

“Well, not with anyone else. I’m not that chill.” You laughed, and it broke Nanami’s shocked expression for just a moment with a small smirk of laughter.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve been thinking about this new discovery I’ve made of your…interests,” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him, “And I think…I think my feral animal brain really, really wants to watch you fuck a man.”

He nearly choked at your honesty, and it excited you just a little to see that pink blush paint his face again. He fiddled with his tie, considering what to say in response for so long you started to think maybe you misread the whole situation.

But then, you didn’t. You have a wife’s intuition.

“I’ll speak to him,” He stated, too calm and collected, clearing his throat. “Today, maybe.”

_________________

And that’s how you found yourself here, with Ino moaning between your legs, his tongue a torrent against your most sensitive areas as Nanami thrusts balls deep into him from behind. You pant, hand gripping Ino’s hair tightly, as you stare at your husband, afraid you might miss something. The way his lip is tight in his teeth, the way his pupils dilate every time he hears you or Ino moan, the way sweat is already dripping slowly down his rippling abdomen with every thrust. It’s like your own personal porn staring your husband.

“He’s just so big,” Ino grunts into you, and you smile and throw your head back.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I think I’m going to cum again.”

“I want to watch your pretty face as you cum for my husband,” You encourage slyly, and you hear Nanami scoff a laugh away as he leans into the mean thrusts he’s ramming into Ino below him. Ino’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and you watch as he sputters a few shots of cum onto the already messy sheets below. You scratch his scalp as he drops his head, panting and gasping for air; Nanami fucks him through the orgasm just like he would you.

“Flip him over,” Nanami grunts, pulling back so you can help Ino onto his back, and the way his body is shaking, he seems thankful for the pause.

Now that he’s on his back, you run your hands down his chest as Nanami gently readjusts himself. Gently, your nails graze over Ino’s nipples, twitching the pink buds lightly, and his finger tips grip into your thighs as his back arches ever so softly off the bed.

Nanami lifts Ino’s hips and guides him back gently onto his cock, and Ino writhes with the feeling of being so full again.

You hold his head in your lap and pet his hair out of his face, cooing softly with each near sobbing groan Nanami rips from his chest. He’s holding Ino’s ankles, pressing them back to be able to reach even deeper, but his eyes are on you brushing your thumbs down Ino’s cheeks and jaw.

“Oh God - Mr. - Mr. Nanami, I can’t-”

You brush your thumb against his lips to cut his words into moans. “He prefers Kento, love. Call him Kento.”

“K-k-k-kento, please, it’s too much,” Ino sobs as Nanami forces him to dribble another orgasm out of his shaking body. You throw your head back and laugh softly at the sight, and it’s then that Nanami leans all the way forward, ignoring Ino’s squirming and overstimulated body between you, and captures your lips in a long, sensual kiss. His tongue laps at your lips, and you gently trap it in your teeth, sucking it into your mouth with precision and dedication. Ino reaches and grips your hips, panting and staring in awe at the sight of you two above him.

“I want to taste my wife,” Nanami whispers as you pull away from him, and so you lean back again, spreading your legs as Nanami pulls out of Ino. Ino starts to move out of Nanami’s way, but you grab his shoulder and keep him between your thighs.

“You can stay,” You whisper, encouraging, and when Nanami lays down next to Ino, he runs a strong hand down his back to keep him there too. You spread your legs a little wider to accommodate the shoulders of both men.

Nanami starts with a soft bite to your inner thigh that makes you shiver, and Ino presses soft kisses against all the skin he can reach. You press your head back into the pillow, arching your back, and let out a long moan as Nanami’s tongue swipes against your clit. He sucks at you softly, his lips causing your eyelids to flutter and the breath to get caught in your throat. Ino presses his lips to your hip, occasionally biting the skin there, but his eyes are glued to Nanami eating you out.

“Here,” Nanami breathes out against you, and he takes Ino’s hand, folding his fingers and guiding his pointer and middle into you. Both you and Ino moan as you clench around his hand, and Nanami starts guiding Ino’s wrist in and out of you as he continues to lap at your clit. “Curl your fingers.”

Ino takes commands well, especially when they’re from Nanami, and you can immediately feel the change in pressure as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you with the help of Nanami’s direction. You curl your toes and grip the pillows under your head, your jaw dropping and locking open in a silent scream of pleasure.

“Your wife is so pretty,” Ino whispers, watching Nanami’s face curl into a smile as he changes to a fast flicking pace with his tongue. His only response is to guide Ino’s wrist faster into you. Your legs shake at the stimulation.

“I’m going to cum,” You finally groan out, pants and whimpers falling from your lips in a crazed state.

“Good girl,” Nanami whispers, joining Ino’s fingers with one of his own, bigger fingers inside of you, and the sudden stretch pushes you over the edge. You cum on their fingers, your pussy pulsating against them, and Ino gulps in shock and awe, which makes you laugh a little when you can catch your breath.

Without any words, Nanami leans up onto his knees and guides Ino to a spot beside you. He lifts your hips, and as he places soft kiss down the leg he places on his shoulder, you feel his tip tease your entrance, and the stimulation makes you roll your eyes back into your head.

“God, please fuck me Kento,” You groan, and that’s all he needs to plunge into you. Your vision nearly whites out as he bottoms out inside of you with ease, and the grumbling moan that comes from deep in his chest as you clench his length makes your toes tingle. He fucks into you, the pace rough and hitting you deeply and intensely, and it is contrasted by the way his fingers draw gentle circles in your skin wherever he can reach to touch you. Ino watches in fascination at you and your husband make dirty love to each other.

“Ino,” Nanami grunts out, jutting his chin to the place you and him are connected, “help us out like we helped you out?”

Ino nods obediently, and immediately, his fingers on one hand find your oversensitive clit while his other hand reaches around and cups Nanami’s balls as they hit against your skin. You both groan, and Nanami falls forward slightly, his lips hungrily finding yours. Your kisses are messy and wet, and they make you feel all the more sensitive as Ino rubs you in all the right places. Ino seems to hesitate next to you, leaning his head towards Nanami’s shoulder but afraid to interrupt.

“Go ahead, Ino,” You encourage, and so Ino shyly places his forehead to Nanami’s shoulder. He presses his lips against Nanami’s rippling arm muscles, and it makes Nanami shiver against you, a pant of pleasure escaping from his mouth into yours at the gentle attention Ino is paying to him.

“I’m so close, my love,” Nanami moans into your mouth, so you take his face in your hands.

“Cum in me, darling, please,” You moan back, and the groan that pours from Nanami’s lips as he throws his head back, exposing his neck to you, is enough to make you finish on his cock. Your whole body locks up as waves of pleasure burst through your body, your lips desperately sucking at Nanami’s neck for something, anything to ground you. Your eyes roll back as Ino keeps overstimulating you, and it the feeling of your clenching, desperate pussy that makes Nanami finish. You feel him pour hot ropes of his cum into you, and it causes one last shiver of pleasure roll down your spine. Nanami nearly collapses on top of you as Ino sits back on the bed.

After a moment of silence, you laugh. “God, you’re so good at that.” Nanami laughs tiredly and cockily in response. Sex seems to be the only time he’s not so humble, and it’s lucky for you that it’s deserved pride.

“Isn’t he good at that!” You turn towards Ino, who is blushing right next to you.

“Y-yeah, he’s really great.”

“Ino, don’t let her bully you into complimenting me.”

He bites his lip, and you let your eyes drop down to his lap. The sight brings a smile to your face.

Ino’s cock is hard once again, standing at attention and leaking with need. When Ino sees you staring, he covers his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Well, darling,” you wiggle out from under Nanami and gesture towards Ino’s new burgeoning hard on. Nanami lets out an impressed sigh, his eyebrow cocking high on his forehead. “I hope you’re ready to go again.”

233 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 1 year ago

Note

if you’re open to writing for karlach, maybe something where she and tav come up with creative ways to be close without tav being burned? or just go nuts and crawl over to shadowheart for healing lol

notes: karlach is so fucking hot (literal and sexual) i am insane over her. i'd love to write for her more

rating: E

pairing: karlach x gn!reader (background shadowheart x lae'zel)

You met Karlach about a month ago, and you’ve never wanted a woman more in your life.

Every part of her is perfection. Her toned stomach; her gorgeous eyes, her wild hair. You want to touch her so badly. Want to run your hand up the plain of her back and feel her shoulders shift under you when she wraps you in her embrace. Want to feel the crush of her lips against yours, the soft wetness when you press between her legs.

But she is on fucking fire, so there lies the issue.

You know she feels the same. When the rest of the camp is asleep you steal into her tent, the two of you whispering the filthy things you want to do to each other while pleasuring yourselves because you can’t physically fucking touch. It’s maddening. You want to be able to actually do them, not just promise that you will.

You’ve seen her fingers disappear into her cunt as she moans your name, you’ve come against your palm while telling her how badly you want to taste her.

Gods. you are going to lose your mind over this tiefling.

Stripped off and with a fresh outfit slung over your shoulder, you stomp down to the pond just outside of camp in order to wash up that morning. Your mind is on other matters - tadpoles, mostly, and how on earth you’re going to save yourselves - but you are totally snapped out of your brooding when you see you’re actually not alone.

“Soldier. Didn’t think you’d be awake for another couple of hours yet, the way you tired yourself out last night,” says Karlach cheekily, grinning up from the water. She’s chest-deep, infernal engine running so hot that steam is churning up around her, leaving a clinging mist all over her shoulders and face. She dunks her head under to wet her hair and makes a beautiful arc as she resurfaces, shiny and dripping.

You stare. Your mouth has gone completely fucking dry. Your head has emptied of all thoughts save for two words: wet Karlach wet Karlach wet Karlach–

She raises an eyebrow. “Babe?”

You drop your clothes.

“Fuck it,” you say, and dive into the pond.

Her lips burn with a kiss long since needed, the pain being bearable for the pleasure of knowing her. Her cunt is almost excruciating to run your fingers across and yet you find yourself gritting your teeth and pressing your tongue inside, the magma of her orgasm deliciously burning your face. It’s so worth it. It’s so, so worth it for knowing you can make her come, and what your name sounds like from her lips when you’re the one bringing her there. She lets you fuck her thigh like a dog in heat and it feels like your sex is aflame.

You have zero regrets, lying in the muddy pond bank, naked body covered in burns. You hear Karlach reapproaching with someone in tow, chattering nervously.

“Yeah, aha, we just er… got carried away. Sorry. I really do appreciate you helping us out, though!”

Shadowheart peers down at you, her mouth a tight line of disapproval.

“Lady of Sorrows preserve us, look at the state of you,” she sighs. Despite the rawness of your injuries you manage a grin.

“Come on, don’t act as if this is the first time you’ll have used Cure Wounds after sex. I’ve heard the noises you and Lae’zel make.”

Her face goes a bright enough red to match the tiefling next to her, and Karlach throws her head back in uproarious laughter.

Every moment of pain is worth it, for her.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling

#karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #karlach imagine #bg3 x reader #bg3 fix #request

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moolovesyou · 2 months ago

Text

absent jealousy | angus tully x reader

a/n: writing this while watching diary of wimpy kid hell yeah. thank you to @xfrankiesmithx-blog for requesting!!!!!! i hope this is what you wanted because i think i got carried away lol. i am too much of a sucker for casual angst and scene building.

s: your relationship with angus is anything but serious, until jealousy forces you both to face reality.

w: cursing, suggestiveness, angst (absent parent)

wc: 3k.

Winter break was supposed to be a time to relax. A time to have fun. And maybe, just maybe, a time to tolerate family. My plans were simple. My days were going to be spent on the Florida beaches with piña coladas and poolside napping. This was a yearly tradition since the 6th grade.

Unfortunately, those hot and sandy dreams were crushed when my dad phoned me at Wickline Academy.

"What the fuck, dad?" I slammed my hand onto the wall beside the telephone.

"Language!" He huffed from the other end. A crackly sigh could be heard. "Listen, we just can't afford it. We need the money to keep you enrolled next semester."

My eyes watered. I blinked rapidly to prevent any tears from spilling out.

"I'm sorry, honey." My dad spoke with sorrow. "Money is tight ever since-. . . your mom. . ."

The call went silent.

It had been 3 months and he still couldn't say it. It was embarrassing for both of us to admit.

Left us. Since she disappeared off the face of the earth with my dad's wallet and my allowance. For the last 3 months, anger has just been festering within me like a cauldron of rage.

Now, I had to spend Christmas alone. If that wasn't already bad enough, it turned out the entirety of Wickline had to be fumigated due to a nasty roach problem. This landed every holdover from Wickline into the lion's den that is Barton.

Hunham stood in front of all 9 of us. 5 boys from Barton and 4 girls from Wickline. Much to my surprise, he was there.

Angus Tully.

We had met 2 years ago at a winter fundraiser. I had been serving drinks for the patrons when Angus waltzed over. From then on, the nature of our relationship was afflicted by our teenage hormones. Every time we saw each other it was a display of lingering eye contact and flirty comments. I never knew if he was serious.

"There will be no fornication, no hanky-panky, no coupling. So help me god, if any of you even stand one inch too close I will make you sleep in the snow." Hunham's voice boomed. He leaned forward, scooching a girl and a boy away from each other.

Angus and I locked eyes for a moment. He furrowed his brows for a second, as if he was confused at my presence. Then he smirked.

"Now, it is time to fuel your young brains with knowledge!"

A chorus of groans erupted from us.

We sat separated. Boys on one side of the study room, girls on the other. Hunham sat in the corner overlooking all of us. A lack of interest fogged all of our minds. Everyone was kind of just looking at their books instead of actually reading.

I glanced up. From across the room, a boy with long dirty blond hair waved at me. I think his name was Jason. He was pretty cute. I waved back, a small smile playing on my lips.

A curly-headed Angus turned around, head snapping between me and Jason. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Later on, we got to spend some time away from studying. We had all grouped together, walking through the snowy woods. Two of the other girls had cozied up next to Kountz. I was collecting fallen pinecones from the ground.

"What brings you here? Kingdom banished their princess?" A voice chuckled from behind. My head flicked around. Angus leaned against a tree, wielding a branch as a sword.

I scoffed, walking up to him. He gazed down at me in amusement. A grin covered his face. A grin that royally pissed me off. I shouldn't have taken it so seriously; but the rage inside of me, which was previously set to simmer, was now boiling; and Angus Tully was stirring the pot.

"I could ask the same about you, asshole. Did your family wish upon a star for you to go away?" I spat. His amusement shrunk, turning into a nasty frown.

"Hey, guys."

The both of us turned around, facing a chirpy and oblivious Jason. He flashed a smile at me.

"Hi!" I shoved Angus with my shoulder as I trudged through the snow to the jock. "Jason, is it?"

From behind, in a small mocking tone, Angus whispered, "Jason, is it?" He didn't know when to stop, did he?

"Do you want to play football with me?" Jason patted the ball in his hand, handing it out to me.

"Sure!" I nodded excitedly.

"Do you even know how to play?" Angus muttered. He had a permanent sour scowl on his face.

"You don't have to project your inabilities, Tully." I flashed a fake smile. "Or, would you like to join us?"

He crossed his arms. His nose was red, making him look like an extremely unhappy Rudolph.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, turning his back to us and walking over to the younger boys.

Needless to say, I was confused. We would have playful fights, yeah. But, this wasn't playful at all. I almost felt bad for him. Jealous, much?

We weren't official. I wasn't even sure if he knew we had a thing going on. Either way, it just wasn't time for anything serious. Jason was sweet and dumb enough for a quick dose of validation.

For the rest of the time spent outside, Jason and I passed the football around. He was fun and extremely hot. I mean, he was the type of attractive that turned Wickline Academy into a slip n' slide. But other than that, we had nothing in common. He was this flamboyant display of brawn and I found spelling bees fun. Every so often, I'd catch Angus staring at us from the other side of the courtyard.

Soon enough, Hunham called everyone in for dinner. We were actually allowed to sit beside each other. It felt like an awkward family dinner. Except we weren't family. So, it was more awkward.

Jason was already sat, so I decided to take my opportunity and sit beside him. He was chatting it up with one of the other Wickline girls. I huffed, slouching in my seat.

"Is this seat taken?" A familiar deep voice spoke from my left. Oh, great.

Angus hunched down, pulling the chair out and sitting himself down. He had a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He leaned close to me, an uninterested look on his face. I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"What's wrong, princess?" He licked his chapped lips.

"You're here. I'd rather have a block of coal." I grunted.

Angus narrowed his eyes at me, before fluttering his lashes. He held his hand to his heart, "You flatter me."

I stuck my tongue out at him, toying with the napkin in front of me.

"So, Jason? Really?" He whispered inconspicuously. Mary set plates on the table, earning a small 'thank you' from him. "Didn't know you could stoop so low."

"I liked you, didn't I."

"Liked?"

His brows raised, a shocked expression on his face. All his wittiness had vanished in the blip of a moment. He averted his gaze to his plate of food. His curls hung over his face.

Of course, I didn't mean that. But he didn't know that.

I opened my mouth to speak, but at that point Hunham slammed the table for something Kountz had said.

For the rest of the dinner I kept my eye on him, he would poke and nudge his food with his fork but never actually take a bite. We didn't talk for the rest of the day.

The following morning everyone joined Jason on his family trip. My dad wasn't too keen on the idea of me spending an entire holiday with boys.

In the end, it was me and Tully. It was weird between us. The days were quiet. There were many times that I tried to apologize, but he would always run off or turn away every moment I tried.

I was sat in the kitchen with Mary Lamb, helping her bake brownies for a Christmas party. I mixed the dry ingredients, gritting my teeth as I thought about everything. It felt like my world was crumbling.

"You alright there, sweetie?" Mary questioned. She was cutting potatoes for the next day's dinner.

I groaned.

"Everything sucks. This wasn't where I planned to be. I didn't plan to be here today or to be in this stupid black hole that my life is." I whisked angrily. Some of the mixture spilled over the side of the bowl.

"Some of this gotta' do with that Tully boy?" She whistled. "I've seen the way y'all act."

I blushed slightly, "Yeah. I guess-. . . I said something i didn't mean. But, I don't get why he's so upset. We don't have anything real going on between us."

"Do you want something real?" Mary put down her knife. I poured the mix into a pan.

Do I want something real with Angus? In the last two years, I hardly learned much about him. We had covered up any real connection under flashy and casually insulting romance.

What had I learned about him? He is Angus. He's a pinch too loud in a quiet room. He walks like a newborn giraffe. He manages to piss everyone off in a 2 mile radius.

But with every taunt and quip he'd deliver, there was that toothy grin accompanying it. There were small moments where he would help the underclassmen with their assignments; and he always found time to find me.

I hadn't even given him a chance of thought. Dread filled my heart, overflowing into my veins like a dam had just broke.

"Would he even want anything?" I leaned on the palm of my hand, glancing outside the window. The snowfall landed softly on the windowsill. It reminded me of the first time he walked up to me.

"Is there any alcohol in this?" A boy with shaggy brown hair pointed. His pants were too short, as if he had just had a growth spurt overnight.

"Does fruit punch fuel your system?" I offered a cup. My nails were coated with pastel polish.

"I'm more of an apple juice kinda guy." He tugged on his loose tie. "I'm Angus."

"I'm Y/N".

"Do you wanna smoke a cigarette behind the bleachers?" The kid asked.

"I don't have a jacket." We looked outside the window. It was evening. The snowfall was heavy. We could hardly see past the courtyard.

"Take mine." He shrugged his jacket off, holding it in his trembling hands. His brown eyes were completely widened in awe. I took the jacket from his grasp, putting it on.

"Thanks Angus!" I chirped. "Come on, before they notice we're gone."

I grabbed his hand, interlocking our fingers. His hands were cold and clammy. But, funnily enough, so were mine. We ran outside, hiding under the bleachers as we joked about our classmates.

"Baby, all I know is he's going through as much as you are right now. You'll never know unless you try."

Mary's voice lingered in my head as I got dressed for the party. She was right. I had lost so much control in the last 3 months of my life. I was not going to let this pass me by. I was going to spite my way into Angus's heart.

In the car, Angus fought to sit in the passenger seat. Ultimately, Mary glared at him with such authority he cowered and clamored into the backseat with me. Instantly, he folded his arms and turned to look out the window.

Okay, this is fine? This is fine. I'll just sneak him aside at the party and fix this. I didn't want Hunham and Mary awkwardly listening in while I confessed my undying admiration for him.

We were greeted at the door by Miss Crane. She welcomed us happily. I looked around. This place was packed. Christmas music flew around the house like a jolly paper airplane.

"Y/N, can you take these to the kitchen please?" Miss Crane gave me the brownies we had baked. I glanced at Angus, who already looked out of place.

"Sure!" My lips pressed together into a thin line. I hurried over, having to pause for houseguests to step aside and move out of the way. This place was a goddamn maze. My forearms grew sore as I searched aimlessly. Then, like a glowing light at the end of the tunnel, I saw the kitchen. I practically threw the platter onto the counter.

When I returned back to the door, everyone was gone. How hard could it be to find a 6-foot tall teenager? I scooched and muttered 'excuse me' way too many times to count. After some asking around, I had made my way to the basement.

There were kids coloring and gluing crafts on a big round table. Others run around with plastic wands and swords. I was nearly stabbed by one of the children. Then I saw something I wish I didn't have to see.

Angus and a brunette locked lips in a corner of the basement. I completely and utterly froze. The dread that had consumed me earlier had solidified and left me still like a heartbroken fossil. They leaned away, and the girl caught my eye.

"Oh, hello! I'll be right with you!" She chirped. She had a blush on her face. My blood boiled. Angus's head whipped around. His eyes widened. He analyzed my face for any sign of a reaction. I closed my eyes and took a composing breath. I whipped around, stepping back up the stairs.

"Y/N! Give me one second." His steps boomed up the stairs behind me. "Come on, slow down."

I stepped out into the cold night. I tried to slam the front door behind me, but Angus shoved his foot between the gap.

"Ow. Really?" He mumbled. He grabbed my arms and stopped me in my tracks. "Y/N. Please."

I kept my back to him. I couldn't look at him. Would his face have that same blush she had? Would his lips be pink? Would he look happy? He sighed, jogging in front of me. He towered over me, a concerned look on his face. He looked almost devastated.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled.

"What's wrong?" I repeated, raising my voice. "You were sucking the life force out of that girl!"

"You're overreacting." He flung his arms in the air. Angus chewed on his lip anxiously. "Plus, last time I checked, why should you care? You were getting real cozy with Jason."

"That wasn't anything." I scoffed.

"Were we anything?" He whispered. His eyes had reddened, tears threatening to stream out.

"What?"

"You said you liked me." Angus whimpered. "What happened? Did I do something?"

"No." I blurted. "You did nothing. I-. . . I was just angry, Angus. I didn't mean that."

He stayed silent. The snow got caught on his curls. He looked more gorgeous than ever. It felt like we had snuck out to the bleachers all over again. Fuck it.

"Jesus, Angus. We have to stop being complete fucking idiots." I covered my face and groaned into my hands. "It's not a surprise that I like you. You think I would still be talking to you after 2 years if I didn't absolutely fucking adore you? I'm angry that everyone else is leaving me and I don't want you to either. I don't want you to disappear. I need you. I've needed you ever since we smoked together for the first time. I was just too fucking dumb to realize it. I need you to realize it too. I need you to realize Jason has nothing to offer me. "

His eyebrows raised slowly. I stared at him with wide eyes as I caught my breath.

"Was that weird? I'm sorry if-"

Angus cut me off by crashing his lips into mine. He had cold lips, but the feeling it gave me sent warmth throughout my body. His arms wrapped around my waist as we stumbled backwards. My back thudded against a wall as Angus pushed closer against me. I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling the strands of hair slightly for any sense of stimulation. His chest pressed against mine and I could hardly breathe. But neither of us pulled away. He pushed his tongue into my mouth with fervor. Little grunts escaped his lips.

The slam of the front door pushed us away from each other. A guest waved goodbye to whoever was on the porch, oblivious to our raunchy escapade. Our gazes flicked back to each other. We both had that 'deer in headlights' look. The two of us burst into laughter. Angus threw his head back cackling.

"Seems like you had a practice." I remarked.

"Shut up."

"Too soon?" I grimaced. He nodded. His hands traveled up to my face, caressing my cheeks. His fingers were crusted over with a green pigment. "Why the fuck are your fingers covered in paint?"

"Oh shit, sorry. Fingerpainting." Angus pulled his hands back, stuffing them into his pockets. His lips were red and slightly wet.

"I have one question." I prodded.

"Hm?"

"Do you like me?"

Angus rolled his eyes, "I just sucked the complete life force out of you. When are you gonna stop being a complete idiot and realize I like you?"

"Touché." I smiled. A heartwarming smile covered his face. He leaned forward, planting a small peck on my forehead, before resting his chin on my head.

I wrapped my arms around his torso. Once again, that familiar memory popped into my head. I felt the same warmth from 2 years ago. This time it wasn't a cigarette. It was Angus. And suddenly it all felt worth it. Every bit of anger. Every bit of sass. Every bit of jealousy.

"So, are you gonna kiss me some more or do I need to get you a brain for Christmas, scarecrow?"

"So needy, princess."

#the holdovers #the holdovers imagine #angus tully #angus tully x reader #angus tully imagine #imagine #x reader #fan fiction

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calypsocolada · 1 year ago

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9:15 A.M. | k. nanami

synopsis: a handsome man is very puctual at the coffee shop you work at. authors note: hi! in celebration of the upcoming shibuya arc (sadface, here's a lil fluff, might write a part two if the spirit posseses me. cw: fluff wc: 1.8k

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There was a man that came into your work almost everyday at exactly 9:15 a.m. He was never late, at least not on the days you worked. He was polite but never smiled and tipped you very well for someone only spending five dollars on a black coffee. You didn’t know his name, you thought it might be weird to ask. But he was tall, styled blond hair, sharp features and impeccably tailored suits. Which was why you called him suit. It wasn’t clever you knew that but it was the first thing you thought of and it caught on with you coworkers.

You liked seeing him, it helped that he was incredibly handsome, like one of those business men in romance movies, the ones that act cold but have secretly big hearts.

Sometimes you find yourself wondering about him. Was he married? It wouldn’t surprise you if he was. You also wondered what he did, did he sit at a desk all day, bossing around a bunch of college aged interns? He had to be the boss. The way he dressed, his impossible seriousness, you could see him running a stressed hand down his face after a long day, or through his styled hair, messing it up. His hand coming up to loosen his tie with deft fingers, leaning back in his expensive leather chair, exhausted.

“Earth to Y/n,” Your co-worker snapped her fingers in front of your face. You blinked a few times, shaking your head as if coming out of a dream.

“Yes, sorry, I’m listening.” You said apologetically.

“I was just wondering if you felt any better? Someone told me you called off yesterday.”

“I feel better.” You say with a smile. You had a migraine that kept you up the night before last, it wasn’t a big deal but you didn’t want to deal with snappy customers yesterday.

“That’s good.” Your co-worker smiles as the front door bell chimes, indicating a customer. Your eyes glance at the door and you see him. You glance at the clock. Right on time. “Your favorite customers here.” Your co-worker teases in a low whisper as you shoot her a quick glare. Suit approaches the counter as your eyes meet and your face lights up in a smile.

“Good morning, the usual?” You ask as the man purses his lips slightly giving you a nod. You push off the counter, spinning around to make his order. “It’s nice outside today,” You say over your shoulder. You always tried talking with him but he didn’t say much, he seemed very mysterious, that or maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

“It is.” He says and you hear him pulling out some cash from his wallet. Sliding a lid on his coffee you turned back around to hand it to him. He reached for it, his fingers brushing yours. “Are you feeling any better?” He asked and your eyes snapped up to his.

“Hmm?”

“Your co-worker,” He started. “She told me you were out sick yesterday.” He said and for a moment you're stunned, you're not sure you’ve ever heard more than two words from this man and it has been months that he’s come in here.

“Oh that,” You wave your hand. “Bad migraine.” You say and he looks at you and nods.

“Drinking plenty of water then?” He asks and you laugh softly.

“You sound like my father.” You joke and see the corner of his mouth quirk up, he breathes out a small laugh. Your brows raise at the sound, stunned at this entire little conversation.

“I’m glad you feel better.” He says warmly as he hands you the money.

“Thank you.” You smile, putting the cash into the register and handing him the change.

“That’s your tip. Keep it.” He says, tilting the cup to you before turning. You pause to watch him leave and when he disappears past the windows you look down at your hand.

“Did he just give you a forty five dollar tip?” Your co-worker chirps behind you, you startle at her voice, breathing out a laugh.

“He sure did.” You answer, sticking the money into your aprons pocket.

“He’s not married by the way.” She says as you turn to face her.

“What?”

“Suit’s not married. He doesn’t have a ring.” She points out.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well if he was and I was his wife I would divorce his ass because the way he looks at you should be considered an emotional affair.” You blush to your toes at that comment, turning from her as you roll your eyes.

“Come on, no he doesn’t.”

“He does. Not to mention he asked about you yesterday, that’s why I told him you were out sick.”

“Liar, he did not.” You argue.

“He totally did! He looked worried for you too.” She jests as you slap her arm slightly. “You know what he tipped me yesterday?”

“What?”

“2 dollars! He usually gives you ten.” She pouts as you start laughing. “He totally has a crush on you.”

“A crush? Stop… He doesn’t. He’s just nice.”

“Yeah he wants to be really nice to you up against a wall maybe.” She says as you press your hands over your face in embarrassment.

“Go away.”

“Ask him out. I dare you.” She pushes.

“No! I don't want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Trust me, he won’t be.”

“No.”

“Come on! Live a little. When’s the last time you went on a date anyways?” She asks and you think genuinely about it. It had been months, maybe even closer to a year. “I know you find him attractive, you probably want to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” You interrupted, sliding into the stool right by the counter.

“Ask him out or I’ll do it for you.” She says and you stare at her hard.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

But she totally would, which is why you find yourself incredibly nervous the next day as you watch the minutes tick by. 9:13. You blew out a nervous breath, tapping your pen against the counter.

The worst he could do is say no but nevertheless it was still completely nerve wracking. You could barely sleep the night before. You put your shoes on the wrong feet and accidentally wore your jacket inside out, then you missed your bus and had to jog to work. It had already been a long day and you’d only been here for just over an hour.

The door chimed. 9:15. Damn, the one day you wished maybe he wasn’t so punctual. When you looked up your breath caught. He wasn’t in his usual suit and tie. He was in gray sweatpants and a tight black shirt with what you were assuming was his college’s name across his chest, not to mention his hair wasn’t styled back, it was falling onto his forehead. You let out a breath you were holding in, your throat dry as you forced a smile and hoped you didn’t look like a maniac.

“Morning,” You greeted.

“Morning,” He said back, giving you a warm smile. A smile! He never smiles. You are momentarily taken back by the smile as he approaches the counter.

“Were you out for a run?” You croaked out as he nodded his head, his hand coming up to run his hand through his hair, his shirt riding up slightly exposing a very toned stomach. You forced your eyes up, a blush coming to your cheeks. “Your usual?” You ask.

“What would you recommend instead?” He asks and your brain stutters.

“Me?” You ask and his mouth quirks up. He looked entirely too handsome.

“Uh huh.”

“Uh-- I don’t-- Maybe, uh-” You stutter, feeling like a fool but he doesn’t cut in or look impatient. “I don’t really drink coffee.” You say and he tilts his head, his hair falling on his forehead slightly.

“Tea?” He asks and you nod your head. “I’ll take your favorite then.” He says, reaching into the pocket of his sweats to fish out his wallet.

“Okay, coming right up.” You try not to sound nervous as you turn, working quickly. It seems like today really isn’t your day, you burn your hand as you fix him the tea and drop the glass, cursing in pain. You turn to grab ice.

“Did you burn yourself?” He asks, voice concerned.

“I’m sorry, your drink will be right out.” You say as he smoothly walks around the counter.

“Not worried about that right now.” He takes the ice from your hand. “May I see?” He asks, he’s so tall up close, and he smells like pine even though he should smell like sweat. You nod your head as his fingers gently turn your hand so he can see the burn. He turns on the faucet. “Ice won’t do the trick, you need cool or lukewarm water.” He says, feeling the water before gently pulling your hand under it. You're both so close, his arm brushes against your shoulder.

“Am I gonna live, doc?” You ask as the man laughs, you made him laugh twice now and each time it stutters your heart. He looks good serious but even fucking better when laughing and smiling.

“I think you’ll live.” He says.

You wrap up your hand and finish making him the tea, this time carefully without injuring yourself. You slide it to him across the counter and he picks it up.

“It’s green.”

“It’s matcha.” You smile, watching him pull the cup to his lips, taking a slow careful sip. He lets it ruminate before humming slightly.

“Mhm, it’s good.” He says and a giant smile slides on your lips.

“You like it?” You ask.

“I do. I should’ve asked your favorite a long time ago.” He says, pulling out money.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay, it’s on me.” You say but that doesn’t stop him.

“I insist.” He says, pulling out a one hundred dollar bill.

“Please, after helping with my hand it’s my treat.” You say but he hands it to you anyways.

“Well, consider that my tip then.” He says. “That’s too much, sir, I can’t,” You start. “It’s Nanami.” He says and you realize that he’s told you his name. He’s known yours this entire time due to your name tag.

“You're too kind,” You say, sliding the money back to him. “I’d feel like I’m robbing you.” He doesn’t make any move to grab the money, just takes another sip of his matcha.

“It’s hardly robbing if I’m giving it to you.” He says with another warm laugh.

“I can’t take it. I’m sorry.” You say, and he nods his head.

“How about a date then?” He says and you snap your eyes up to him. He has that serious look about him again.

“A date?”

“Mhm.” He nods.

“You and me?”

“Ideally.” He smirks and your entire body blushes. You wondered where all this confidence came from, but honestly it didn’t matter. You liked it.

“I get off at 8.” You say and you see his cheeks blush as he smiles at you.

“I’ll pick you up then.”

#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader

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lighthouseshepard · 4 months ago

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some comforting jarthur for @mikonezz ! (:

"Arthur? Arthur, what the fuck? Where did you - Arthur!"

John's voice rings out over the clearing as he comes into view, stumbling over the jut of a tree root well placed to trip him up. He barely manages to catch himself before tumbling to the floor, months of mastering newly human reflexes finally paying off. Cursing, he dusts a scattering of dry leaves from his clothing and focuses anew on the figure standing some small distance away.

"Arthur," he calls again, his tone an impatient rumble. "What the hell are you doing? I've been looking for you for over ten minutes!"

He makes a few hesitant shuffles toward him, glancing down for any more wayward branches. The clearing spreads out before him, a gentle unfolding of dry grass stretching in all directions strewn with the remnants of autumn’s crisp decay. Trees tower above them, their branches intermingling in a crossed network of slowly withering leaves fluttering in the breeze, a myriad of orange and brown made stunning in the late afternoon light. Every step crunches beneath him as his feet find the path they’d been traveling along once more. It’s obvious and clumsy, and still the body ahead of him doesn’t turn around.

“Arthur,” he tries, impatience winning out over anything else. “Why did you get so far ahead? You said you were going to go ahead just around the corner and then you were gone. Do you know how hard it is to find fucking anything in this forest? I could have lost you, I… Arthur?”

Arthur turns. The smile he offers John, flickering and lackluster on his lips, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. With a sense of trepidation John slows, coming to a halt before crossing the final few feet.

“Hey, John,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

“Well, you did,” John grumbles, eyeing him carefully. “You have no idea how to get back without me. Why did you take off like that?”

Arthur swallows. His head dips down, chin bumping his chest. Something heavy sits in the line of his shoulders, an indecipherable weight hanging off his silhouette like a stone skipped and sunk into the sea. John studies the windswept tangles of his auburn hair, the wrinkled state of his shirt. What creases beneath his eyes appeared that morning were deeper, half moons faint and tender as a bruise which refused to heal.

“Sorry,” he mumbles again. “Didn’t realize. I got a bit lost in my own thoughts.”

John’s irritation dissipates in the breeze winding delicately across the clearing. Nature’s decomposition carried a strange scent. Like hay, he thought, dry and slightly sweet. He breathes it in, closing what gap remained. Arthur still wasn’t facing him, his gaze blank and distant as he stares sightlessly at a point by John’s elbow.

“Arthur?” John asks. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Arthur.”

“I said it’s nothing, John,” he snaps. His palm grips the end of the cane held firmly in one hand, braced in the earth by his feet. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I walked off, alright? Jesus Christ, can we just go back now?”

“No.” John crosses stubborn arms over his broad chest. “Not until you tell me why you decided you wanted to disappear in a wood you can’t see.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

He breaks off, exhaling sharply. “Like I said. I… wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t realize.”

“You haven’t been paying attention all day,” John points out. “You’ve been distracted since the sun rose, Arthur. I’ve been talking to a wall since you woke up.”

“Fucking forgive me for being unfocused,” he mutters, “like I can’t catch a goddamned break from you or anyone else.”

“What?” John furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head.” Let’s head back.”

“I don’t want to head back. Would you just listen to me? We’re not going anywhere until you-”

“Don’t touch me!”

Arthur’s exclamation echoes around them. He rips his arm out of John’s attempted grasp, twisting to the right and nearly falling as he had only minutes ago. The cane clatters to the leaves below, its muted thump the only sound accompanying the rolling ring of Arthur’s plea as it dwindles into a slow, tense silence.

Leaves rustle softly overhead. John’s arm falls to his side. He refuses to look away, although Arthur was doing all he could to try and pretend he was the only one in the entire forest at that exact moment.

“Arthur,” John says softly. A small spark of frustration flickers to life in his gut, but he tampers it resolutely down. He knew enough by now to tell when such a thing would be useful to him. Clearly, that approach would do neither of them any good. “Talk to me.”

“I,” he starts, barely getting the singular word out. His breath comes unevenly, the rise and fall of his chest beneath his shirt staccato beats along a string of notes gone out of key. “I don’t know what to say, John.”

“Try me.”

He rasps a dry laugh, this one just as unhappy as the last. “Haven’t I confused you enough already?”

John hums. Anything he wanted to say, whatever he thought might work to combat whatever was going on inside Arthur’s head all clamors for his attention at once. He knew him, understood how his mind worked. For a long time he’d been inside it, curled up in scattered pieces behind those eyes while he fought to realize what would make him whole, watching and listening as Arthur’s life fell apart.

Perhaps words weren’t what he needed right now.

“Just talk,” he says simply. “I’m listening. I’ll always listen, Arthur. I want to help.”

Sighing, Arthur finally turns to face him. His expression is weary, loaded with the same tension coiling throughout his thin frame. For a second he seemed as though he were going to move forward, and it would have been so easy then to wrap him up in an embrace. But he stops halfway through, head still facing down. The air between them grows a little colder.

“I’ve always loved that about you,” he murmurs. “The fact you’re so willing to help, even when you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset,” John points out, “I’m… worried, Arthur. For the last few days especially you’ve been distant. I’ve tried to give you space, wait it out because I didn’t want to pry, but it’s not getting either of us anywhere.”

“I know, John, I know. I haven’t meant to snap at you, it’s just… “

“Arthur.” John was all but whispering, the name as much of a promise as a prayer in his mouth. “Please. What’s going on?”

“It’s… it’s like,” Arthur says, every syllable punctuated by a tremble he fought to hold back. “Alright, fine. I can’t catch a fucking break, John.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, forcing himself to stay completely still. Every muscle and length of bone within him yearned to reach out and touch his face, his shoulder, anything to offer what little comfort he could. The privilege of being able to hold that body with flesh and blood of his own was a blessing he’d never grow tired of, and whenever Arthur strayed too far from him the pull of that dissonance stung like a newly reopened wound. But his demand continued to ricochet in the back of his mind: don’t touch me. So he doesn’t.

Arthur lets out a bitter laugh. “Life, John. I’m talking about this, here, with you.”

“What?” John asks hesitantly. He takes an instinctive, rustling step back. Did I… did I do something wrong? Is this about me?”

“No, no!” He glances up wild-eyed, the gold of his gaze wrought with a sudden nervous concern. “No, John, god. I’m sorry, I phrased that poorly, it’s not about you. It’s… fuck, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

John’s lips thin into a frown. “Not a bit.”

“I’m sorry. Again, it seems - I’ve been saying that a lot today, haven’t I?”

“Could say it a few times more,” John mutters.

“Yeah, darling. I could.”

John waits. Those eyes find him somehow in their darkness. As exhausted as he was, their color rivaled the soft flame of autumn soaked into every bit of foliage and underbrush around them still clinging to life.

“It’s her, John,” Arthur says after what could have been an eternity or a few elongated seconds. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Oh,” John hums. “Arthur, are you-”

“No, John, don’t.” He wipes the back of his hand across one eye, refusing to acknowledge it. “It’s the weather, I think, or maybe just the way the leaves are turning red around us. She loved fall. I always preferred spring, mind you, but the way she used to talk about it could sway me in a heartbeat. I can’t even see the leaves now, John. All I’m left with is sound and the scent of the season’s… goddamn inevitable decay.”

“I could describe it to you,” John offers quietly. He moves closer, still not giving in to the urge to touch him. “If you wanted.”

“I know,” Arthur sniffs. He lends him a watery smile, tear tracks lining his cheeks. “All I wanted to do, all I’ve wanted for the longest fucking time, was to enjoy this life with you. Ever since the separation I thought I’d finally be able to relax, that we’d be safe-”

“We are safe,” John interjects. “You know that, right?”

He chokes off, heaving an unsteady breath. More salt stains his skin, miniscule rivers winding among the landscape of his scars. Without a second thought John decides to damn his request. With a soft huff of air he pulls him in.

“Sure, John, but my body remembers what it was like. And I can’t shake the feeling some outside force is still trying to fucking pick me apart. It’s like I’m going to spend the rest of my life hopping from one hard thing to the next, never getting a break in between, never knowing what really makes me happy except for you, and Noel and Oscar, the sound of your laughter, the radio you play late at night when we can’t sleep-”

"Wait a second."

"And then I wake up with thoughts like these and it's so fucking hard, John, trying to cling to that happiness -"

“Arthur,” he rumbles, the singular word a slip of velvet draping around them both. Strong arms wrap across Arthur’s back, enveloping him in an embrace that would have left him breathless had he anything left in his lungs to give. He sinks into John, pressing his face into his chest, clinging desperately to him as he’s folded up. Warmth seeps into limbs gone cold and aching from the day’s brisk chill. What music of the forest he’d been paying attention to drift further and further away until all which remained was the melody of John’s heartbeat, steady and assured.

“Sorry,” Arthur says against him. “I’ve completely ruined our little walk, haven’t I?”

John chuckles, resting his chin atop Arthur’s head. “Oh, I’ve ruined much worse. It’s alright.”

What might have been a muffled laugh wracked through with another sob answers him. John draws him in tighter.

“That’s all I want,” Arthur whispers. “I want to stop feeling as though there’s nothing to look forward to even though I know there is, like the past keeps dogging at my heels with its relentless… emptiness. And I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s going to be fine, Arthur,” he tells him. His breath stirs the ends of his hair, a reassurance in its own right. “I know you… I know we spent a long time climbing out of pit after pit, but there are moments of happiness in between. I don’t know what that looks like for you, but I can help you find them, if you want.”

“Well.” John parts them gently, shifting Arthur reluctantly off him until he could see him properly in the light. Their arms remain around each other, their faces half a foot apart. “Maybe it starts with a walk.”

Arthur sighs, sniffling once more. “Very funny.”

“I’m not joking. I’ve learned a lot from you, Arthur, and what blindsided me in the beginning still strikes me now as something of immense worth. Your resilience, your stubbornness, the way you keep going in the face of impossible odds. Even in the prison pits, there were times where you found reason to laugh. All that suffering, and you kept striving for joy in small moments.”

There is no immediate response. John wonders fleetingly if he had said the wrong thing, and he begins pulling threads from the tangle of his thoughts, searching for anything at all that might right his mistakes. To his surprise, Arthur begins to relax against him, inch by inch. That tension bleeds away like so much sand back out into the tide.

“I don’t know a fucking thing about living a human life,” John says. As Arthur opens his mouth to speak, John shushes him. “No, I don’t. I’m learning, though. Maybe that’s where we find peace, those small hours in between the difficult stretches. In walks, or… the trees changing color around us, all the subtle beauty of staying defiantly alive in a world that might want us dead. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Arthur says weakly. John reaches up to brush a thumb under his eyes, wiping away what few tears remained, and he leans desperately into the touch. “Thank you, John. Sometimes I just need a reminder, I guess… and, um, John?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you describe it to me? The forest, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I’d like to listen to you talk for a while.”

He could have kissed him, then, but he doesn’t. There would be plenty of opportunity for that later. Instead John tilts his head back, gazing up into a sky dusted powder blue.

“Of course, Arthur. We’re in the middle of a clearing. The path we were following is almost entirely buried beneath a covering of dead leaves, like the trees were trying to swallow civilization’s influence up. Above us branches stretch spindly fingers into the sky, framing what I can see of it in a rickety halo tinged through with hints of amber and red. All around us the trees are alight in autumn’s bloom, but nothing compares to your eyes.”

“My… eyes?” Arthur asks in strange awe. “John?”

His cheeks flush. “Hush. Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Oh, by all means,” Arthur says, and rests his head on John’s shoulder. “I’m listening.”

“Right. There are bushes lining the edges of the clearing sporadically, dotted with some sort of bright pink berry. Light bathes the ground in long yellow arcs which shift and shiver as the sun travels across the sky. Little green exists here, but it’s alright. Fall has a kind of atrophy I appreciate for its earnestness, its honesty, I suppose. Oh, let me tell you about the flock of birds above, too…”

#sorry i probably write jarthur fluff too much #you can pry h/c from my cold dead hands #also this is largely unedited whhchejd #may come back to it later ❤️#caspost #malevolent fic

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