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astupidweeb69 · 1 year ago

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The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.

Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!

___________________________________________________________

Your brother hated his new roommate.

From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.

You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.

It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay.

Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.

After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.

You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?

He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.

On one condition.

Stay away from Toby.

You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.

But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.

So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport.

He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.

Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival.

“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”

It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.

You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.

“You two fighting or something?”

Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

“Weird how?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”

“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.

Another pause. This one is longer than before.

“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”

______________________________________________________________

The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.

The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.

After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it.

The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.

It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment. “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”

“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.

Time for bed I guess.

You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.

You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.

The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.

You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.

So you did.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected.

However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.

Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.

Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking.

You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.

But he didn’t.

The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.

The fuck?

You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?

You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.

He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face.

If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.

A hand reached out.

Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused.

He was touching you.

He was touching your face.

Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.

“M-must be the ssss-sister…”

That was the first clear sentence you could understand.

He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing.

His whispering.

“Soft”

Then he left.

Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.

______________________________________________________________

“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.

It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of, had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake.

You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.

From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms.

You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room.

You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man.

So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself.

He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.

Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention.

“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”

“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.”

You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”

He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”

You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.

“Okay. What time does it-”

A door opened. You stopped talking.

Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound.

Toby was up.

The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.

He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.

Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.

He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.

“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.

Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.

“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”

“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.

Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.

“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”

Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.

“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?”

You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone.

“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”

“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”

Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.

You pretended to be unbothered.

It didn’t work.

He noticed.

And he liked the way you squirmed.

______________________________________________________________

Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.

You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.

Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.

Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house.

Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.

God you were going to need a drink to get through this.

Maybe even a couple.

Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.

One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.

You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.

More social.

Less inhibited.

Numb.

After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room.

You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand. You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music.

And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.

It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.

You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?

Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.

Toby.

He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly.

Oh god you felt your heart flutter.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.

He creeped you out.

He didn’t shower.

He smelled like death.

You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.

And you were already walking over there.

You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.

It was working.

He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance.

But you didn’t know that.

You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.

“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”

He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.

“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.

You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”

Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?”

It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.

“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”

Why did you say that?

Why?

It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.

You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.

“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why.

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs.

Fuck.

One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.

Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?

He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.

He was strong.

You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary.

So why did he turn you on?

He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.

You barely registered him locking the door behind him.

With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.

“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick.

“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.

He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before.

“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”

You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”

You paused. Was he talking about you?

“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.

You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue?

Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.

“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....”

You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew.

He fucking knew the whole time.

He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other.

Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner.

Your bra was next.

In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea.

He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention.

He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.

Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care.

He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.

A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog.

After a while, he finally lifted his head up.

Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt.

His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately.

You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”

His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him.

Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.

He made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.

“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold.

“...Fuck you bloody.”

Shit this guy was scary.

In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.

You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.

That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought.

He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.

You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.

“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.

He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.

Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat.

It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you.

It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”

Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.

You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.

Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.

You screamed.

You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.

You screamed bloody fucking murder.

“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”

Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.

It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.

You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.

The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how.

Something started to build.

More and more.

Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax.

His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head.

He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.

His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.

Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.

And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.

“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”

#creepypasta #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #my writing #ticci toby smut #creepypasta smut #fanfiction #ticci toby x you #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader smut

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ifimdreaming · 11 months ago

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can i take you home?

luke hughes x reader || angst, fluff

request: “i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.”

author's note: i thought this request was so so cute so i kind of took it and ran. also kinda influenced by i miss you, im sorry by gracie abrams. this is also super long but i hope the ending is worth it. let me know if i should do more parts of this!

word count: 5.0k

Waking up to the sound of your best friend pounding on the guest bedroom door at 7am was not exactly the best way to start your day. But since you are staying the weekend in her student house that she shares with 5 other people, there are definitely unluckier ways you could have been awoken.

“Morning sleepy head!!! I'm so happy you're up!” your best friend Emma almost shouts as she barges in the room, after you very reluctantly told her she could come in. She immediately begins opening the curtains, and rummaging through her closet to find her outfit for the day.

In her haste she almost spills the two cups of coffee she had brought up from the kitchen as she sets them on the dresser beside the bed, her mug being almost completely empty anyway. You can tell by her enthusiasm and caffeine intake that she has been up for quite a long time before deciding to wake you up.

You groggily roll over and face away from the wide open curtains, not ready to face the day yet and really disappointed in yourself for choosing to drive up so late last night in the first place.

Of course you were happy to be able to visit your best friend, the two of you going to different schools making it incredibly hard to spend much time together anymore. But being back here brought back so many memories of the last time you visited. Both good and bad. And to be honest, all you could think about was him. From the very moment Emma invited you, he has been on your mind nonstop.

The way he made you feel so utterly adored when he brought you back to his room, how he spoke to you so gently and quietly the one morning when you were hungover, the time he spilled and called you ‘his’ while you were in bed together, and how much it seemed like it would last forever. It was all coming back so strongly.

“So, what are the plans for the day Little Miss Sunshine?” you sit up, reluctantly speaking your first words of the day after clearing your throat.

“Well! First I thought we'd go get bagels for breakfast from down the street, and then I think one of us may need a quick shower before we officially start our day…” Emma says with a hand on the side of her mouth, pretending to be saying a secret as she is side-eyeing you, and you just stare at her offendedly, “Aaand we are doing something tonight so maybe we should go shopping..” she says quickly and excitedly, clearly brushing past what exactly it is that we are doing tonight.

“Alright then.” you say as you check your phone for probably the 20th time in the 10 minutes you've been awake. And you can see Emma staring at you from the corner of your eye so you decide to throw your phone to the other side of the bed, getting up and ready to go. You knew she wasn't oblivious, but you did not want to acknowledge the look she was giving you right now, and honestly it did not seem necessary to bring anything up.

Besides, this weekend isn't even about him. Dylan's surprise birthday party is tomorrow and your best friend was so excited to be planning it with your help. She hadn't done anything this extravagant for her boyfriend before and she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

Obviously the last thing you would want to do is ruin this weekend for her, and your stupid feelings and non-relationship are included in that.

The walk to the bagel shop seemed awkwardly long as you were both not acknowledging the fact that your mind is very very distracted. It wasn't intentional. But feelings and places have such strong connections and the fact that things felt so unresolved was not helping. Everywhere you are here reminds you of him.

“How's your bagel?” Emma speaks up, finally breaking the silence on your walk home, thankfully giving you an opportunity to get out of your thoughts.

“Oh it's good! Thanks! I was super hungry…” you say, trying to muster up a believable enough reason for why you've been so off today.

You continue walking and shuffling your feet in silence and are about to return back to the house before Emma looks at you and sighs loudly.

So. Close. You are literally about to step onto the driveway of the house when she stops you.

“Ok can we just talk about it please? Because there is no way we are going to get through this entire weekend just ignoring it.” she says, stepping in front of you and blocking any sort of way for you to get out of this conversation.

“What are you talking about?” you say with a grumble and a sigh. Knowing she is going to get it out of you. Obviously she would.

“Luke.” Emma says deadpan, waiting for your response.

For some reason at this moment you wanted to cry just hearing his name. But you also wanted to yell. Your feelings were confusing and annoying and it upset you to even have to talk about it with someone, even though you knew you should.

“I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I can't stop thinking about him, and everything is so confusing.” you whisper-yell at her in frustration.

It pained you to admit that you couldn't get him off your mind. You didn't realise how much you even liked him until having to admit that.

“He visited me during christmas… I mean, he did in the fall, but this time felt different.” You continue, “We slept together again. Everything felt like it was going so well…And now nothing.” you admit to her and wipe your face with your sleeves, angry at the tears that have fallen from your eyes.

“Has he called?” She asks warily.

“Once? Last week. It was short… but he sounded sad. He said he misses me. And he told me he really wanted to visit me. And I've texted him since then and no response.” you look down at your feet as you speak. It really shouldn't be this embarrassing to admit. It's not like you were in a relationship with him anyway.

“He's going to be here...tomorrow? I didn't know if you knew..” Emma says as she grabs your arm and slowly brings you close to her as you begin walking inside together and you nod your head in her direction.

You knew he would be here. Dylan is one of his best friends, obviously he isnt going to miss his 21st birthday. But with how things were currently going, it honestly made you wonder if Luke would even want you here. And what do his friends even know about you two? Has Luke said anything? So many questions are going through your head that it is almost making you dizzy.

The rest of the day is so much lighter after your earlier conversation. Emma is exponentially good at cheering people up, and maybe even to a fault, will always be on your side no matter what. But you appreciated it regardless.

You are currently finishing up putting on your makeup and getting ready to go out tonight, still very unaware of what the plan even is. But you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Emma has picked out every aspect of your outfit tonight - down to the shoes, makeup, and jewellery.

Suddenly Emma gets a call from Dylan and runs into her bathroom to answer the phone, the music cutting out that was playing from her phone as she heads off, and silence filling the room.

You weren't intending to be eavesdropping, but you are able to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door and very hushed arguing that you couldn't quite make out. Making you curious as to what could possibly be going on tonight.

Emma saunters back into the room with hesitancy, her expression is scared and concerned at the same time as she is approaching you almost in slow-motion, saying nothing.

“What is it? Just spit it out.” you say, already knowing you are either about to hear the worst news of all time or the worst news of all time.

“Ok surprise! We're going out for sushi! Yay!” Emma says, obviously starting with the good news and you stay silent.

“And…Luke is coming out with us.” she continues, flinching at her own words as she plops herself on the bed across from you. You sit at her desk, makeup in hand, and cannot help but have an absolutely astonished look on your face.

Nothing is able to even leave your mouth as her words run through your mind again and again.

“I am so SO sorry.” She starts. “One of the guys accidentally told Dylan that Luke is in town and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for tomorrow, so I told Dylan that Luke and I were trying to surprise him tonight for dinner. I didn't know what else to say. It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. I'm so sorry.” she continues, worried she has done irreparable damage on your friendship.

“You can kill me now.” Emma blurts out defeatedly, wanting to keep the surprise for tomorrow and not wanting all her efforts to be ruined the day before the party.

Obviously you love that girl, but very much did want to kill her in this moment.

“Does Luke know I'm going to be there?” you ask, brushing past everything else she has said.

“Dylan said he would tell him, yeah, but if you don't want to come please don't feel like you have to.” she says with a small smile, hoping you have some-what forgiven her.

“No, I'll still come.” you say quietly but matter-of-factly.

If Luke knew you were coming, it would be weird if you decided to stay home now because of it, and besides, what would you do here alone? Thinking of what he would be doing and wishing you could read his mind is all you can think of.

“OH? This is good! Ok! Dylan said he is picking us up in 20 minutes!” Emma states, suddenly very excitedly, hoping it will cheer you up to see that she is excited. And as you continue getting ready, nervous energy and anticipation fill your body.

Dylan shows up right on time, unfortunately for you, not giving you any extra time to sit and wallow in your feelings.

It was inevitable that you would be seeing Luke this weekend, but this quickly and under these conditions was not exactly ideal. You were hoping to at least be able to have a one-on-one conversation with him before being thrown into random get togethers where things have no chance but to be awkward.

The drive to dinner is surprisingly happy. Dylan seems so excited to be seeing his best friend again. He can't stop talking about the last time they saw each other and how long it has been. And Emma's laughter and giddy energy is helping you calm down and distract you just a little bit.

“The reservation is for 7pm so we might have to wait in the car for a few minutes.” Emma says, checking her phone as Dylan pulls up to the restaurant a bit early.

The dim lighting and intimate booths look extremely inviting as you peer inside the windows of the restaurant from the parking lot. You can't help but get distracted by watching people inside as Emma and Dylan talk from the front seats of the car and are cutely chatting to each other quietly.

“There's my boy!” Dylan yells out as he jumps out of the driver's seat, running up to give Luke a hug across the parking lot.

“Ready?” Emma looks back and asks you, reassuringly placing her hand on your knee and rubbing her thumb up and down a few times.

“Guess so…” you say with a fake smile as you grab your purse from beside you, and as you are about to leave the car, you see a tall figure standing right outside your door.

Only a little bit startled, you look up to see Luke as he opens your door for you and greets you with a tired smile. He is dressed nicely in black pants and a cream cable knit sweater, his hair curly and tousled up like always.

As you step out of the car he brings you into a tight hug, like he just couldn't wait to hold you again.

“I missed you…” Luke whispers so quietly into your ear that you almost couldn't hear him. He swiftly leaves a gentle kiss to the side of your head as he brings his hands just a bit lower down your back, “I’m sorry” he says quietly as he releases you.

As much as you want to reciprocate, you are so caught off guard by his words that you just stare up at him without a word.

“Alright let's go! I'm so hungry!” Dylan says, unaware of the tension, as he pats Luke's back and wraps an arm around him, walking in front of you and Emma and into the restaurant.

Emma is glancing at you as you walk together, waiting to hear from you what Luke said, but you decide to ignore it with a shrug and she looks away.

Dinner is filled with laughter and catching up with one another. Surprisingly it wasn't even half as awkward as you built it up to be. Dylan chatting away with Luke as you and Emma giggle across from each other about all the drama at your respective schools.

Having a couple of drinks throughout the night was definitely helping, but regardless of that, you felt good. Really good.

“Luke, how's the love life going for you? You got a girl in Jersey?” Dylan asks with a laugh as Emma had just bragged about her and Dylan going on 2 years of being together.

She shoots you a regretful look as she hits Dylan's side with her elbow, not as discreetly as she probably wanted to, and your face turns bright red.

Luke looks down at his lap and shakes his head with a chuckle, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

“No man, no girl in jersey.” Luke says lightly as he takes a drink of his beer before the two of you make eye contact and he glances down to your fidgety hands that are in your lap.

“My bad, my bad…” Dylan says with a laugh as he clears his throat and starts back to finishing the food on his plate, Emma quietly shushing her clueless boyfriend beside her.

Your nervous hands continue to pick at your cuticles and you look over to see Luke inching his hand closer beside yours on the booth bench. Looking up from your lap, you see him glancing back at you as he waits for your reaction before discreetly taking your hand in his under the table.

The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting and familiar and immediately eases your anxiousness. But you still feel so conflicted.

Luke always knew how to comfort you and distract you from your thoughts when they were out of control. Especially during busy school semesters and many nights spent together with him keeping you company while you anxiously wrote papers and prepped for exams.

He seemed to be there for you when it felt like you had no one else. At least that's how it used to feel. Now things feel so complicated. Not knowing the status of your relationship surprisingly taking a much larger toll on your ability to act like friends than you would have ever thought.

“So! I've got the bill tonight guys. Happy birthday Dyl!” Emma blurts out as the waiter approaches the table, she leans over to give her boyfriend a loving kiss, comfortably filling the awkward silence that had just taken over the table not long before.

“Thank you baby! And hey! thanks guys for coming out tonight too.” Dylan smiles at the both of you as he lifts up his glass for a toast. You all clink your glasses, wishing him happy birthdays that follow big swigs of your almost empty alcoholic beverages.

Walking out of the restaurant, your mind fills with running thoughts. You wish you had spoken to Luke more tonight but it was hard to not make anything obvious. He seemed good, but still weirdly sad and you wanted to talk to him about it so badly. You wanted to talk to him about everything.

As you near Dylan's car you feel Luke's hand brush against yours and lightly hold your wrist, turning you around to face him.

“Can I take you home?” Luke shyly asks you as you all stand in the parking lot together. You mutter a “sure” under your breath with a nod, and he looks to Dylan and Emma for confirmation, both of them nodding in agreement before bringing you into tight hugs and saying goodbyes.

“Tell me everything that happens girly.” Emma runs back over to you and whispers into your ear as she hugs you goodbye once more, and all you can do is let out a small laugh in response to her teenage-esque behaviour.

After Dylan and Emma drive away, the short walk over to Luke’s car suddenly seems agonisingly long and your heart is racing in anticipation. Over anything else that happens tonight, you really wanted clarity. But of course, thoughts of the worst possible outcome ever sneak their way into your mind.

Luke opens the passenger side door for you and you climb into his car before he gently closes the door and walks to the other side. As he gets in, he begins to start the car before he looks over to you and pauses, the quiet becoming almost painful.

You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to say the wrong thing. So, waiting for him to break the silence seemed to be your best bet.

“I know I should have thought of something to say…” He starts, and shuffles in his seat, slightly bending his right leg so he is facing you a little more.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped responding to you.” Luke continues, and you almost want to roll your eyes at his apology. It was so hard to be understanding when this felt like such a preventable situation on his part.

But you knew Luke. You knew when he was scared he got distant. You knew he was pulling back from you. You just didnt know why.

“Things have been so…weird…lately, and I just…I know I fucked up.” He confesses.

You didn't want to be reading between the lines anymore. You just wanted him to be honest with you about what he wants, and it frustrated you that he was being so vague.

“Luke, what do you want? Like, from me?” you ask innocently, but squint your eyes closed tightly as the words coming out of your mouth sound completely different from what you intended.

“Like, you told me we were friends. And obviously I was ok with that. But when you would visit me, we’d sleep together. And when you left it was like. I don't know…” you look down and pick at your fingers as you speak, looking up at him feeling like an almost impossible task.

“You told me you wanted to be friends.” Luke states, and gently grabs your hand. He holds it in his to stop you from destroying your fingers as you speak, which causes you to look up at him, thanking him silently, as he waits on your response.

“I said that because I knew how hard it would be for us to be so far away from each other.” you say strongly, feeling the sudden need to defend yourself.

“You know how important school is to me, and I know how important your career is to you. I don't want to distract you from what's important to you. I don't want to be the one that gets in the way of things, or be the reason why you're not as focused as you could be…as much as I want to be-” you begin to confess, but are quickly cut off.

“It's kinda too late for that…” Luke says with a chuckle as he tilts his head back against the headrest of his seat and looks out the front window, frustration still evidently seen on his face.

“What do you mean??” you ask, hoping he will elaborate a little more than he has been so far.

“You already distract me. I can't stop thinking about you. And it's obvious. In my game and everything too. Even Jack has noticed and he keeps asking me about you and I don't even know what to say. I can't shut him up. Cuz how am I supposed to tell him how I feel when I can't even tell you? Its actually really fuckin annoying.” he laughs as he explains, still looking ahead out the window instead of at you.

Luke has always sought to use humour and jokes in difficult situations, especially when it comes to his own feelings. He's clearly frustrated at himself and it hurts you to see him having such a hard time expressing himself.

“So why have you been so distant lately?! I’ve been really worried about you.” you say, suddenly feeling more confident in confronting him as he opens up to you.

“Cuz im scared im gonna fuck things up even more than I already have…” he says honestly as he turns his head to look at you again.

“I knew I should've said something from the moment we slept together the first time. I feel like I fucked up by keeping my mouth shut. It's been ruining my life to not just be honest with you.” he adds with a growl deep in his voice, anger at himself seeping through his words.

As he continues, you can't help but feel entranced by him in his current state, and suddenly you are very aware of how late at night it is becoming.

“It's my fault...” Luke says, and you desperately try to focus on his words and not his body.

But you can't help but think about how good his hands would feel on your body and how badly you want him to kiss you right here and now. You didn't care that you were still in the parking lot of a sushi restaurant. You didn't care that things were still so confusing and that this probably wasn't exactly the most ideal time to be feeling this way. You just felt like you needed him so badly.

“I've been treating you like shit lately. Regardless of us sleeping together, that should not change how I treat you. I've been a shitty friend to you, and I'm really really sorry.” he continues, and you are brought out of your trance.

His words hit you so hard. You both unknowingly made this relationship so complicated and weren't even aware of it. You knew Luke was not perfect, but for some reason you expected him to be able to read your mind, and vice versa. Even after being the one to say you should stay friends, you were silently upset that nothing was happening in the way you wanted.

“Luke, it's ok. Both of us have not been entirely honest with each other lately and it's made everything so… fucked up. We’re just… in a weird spot.” you say, hoping your words make any sense considering you zoned out for half of his apology.

“Can I just say that I want to be able to fix this?” Luke says as he places his hand on your thigh, his fingers mindlessly getting higher and higher as he rubs slowly back and forth. Trying his best to soothe you and unknowingly turning you on even more.

“It isn't just on you to fix.” you say as you place your hand softly over his, stopping his movement on your leg as to not let it overly distract you.

“Yes it is. I let you down. I fucked up by being so fucking…distant. I should've been more clear about what I want…that I want you..” Luke admits, giving into what he has wanted to say from the moment you got into the car together.

His eyes are fixed on yours and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Hearing him so confidently confess how he is feeling after so long is such a relief. It makes you want to just tell him you love him right here and now.

“I know things are complicated…but, I really don't want to not have you in my life…” Luke adds as tears begin to well in his eyes, catching you both off guard.

“Oh Lukey.” you whisper as you hold his face in your hands, your heart melting at the sight of him.

Luke places his hands on your wrists, pulling them away from his face as he finally leans into you.

His lips hit yours with an intensity that you have never felt before from him. His hands move away from yours, and to the base of your neck, gently pulling you closer into him as he deepens the kiss.

Your eyes are glued shut as you are entranced by his lips finally being connected with yours as his tongue dances around in your mouth.

Needing to have your hands on him, you reach up to brush his face with your thumbs and then begin gently tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, causing him to lustfully groan deep into your mouth. Your mind is filled with excitement and intensity as the moment grows in mutual desire.

“I needed you baby.” You say rushedly, disconnecting with him for only a moment.

Luke smiles against your lips as you connect again, and he places his left hand on your hip, massaging his fingers into your side. You lift yourself lightly onto the centre-console, desperate to be as close to him as you can get, and he lowers his hand just below your ass to help support you.

Although being in the close quarters of Luke's car while having such a monumental conversation about your relationship was not quite ideal, you were so thankful for it at this moment.

“I needed you too.” Luke says after coming up for air, and you just stare at him with a dizzy smile, your head reeling with arousal.

He pecks your lips a few times before lowering his head to your collarbone, gently kissing your neck and leaving red marks where he most definitely has before.

Your giggles fill the car as he continues expeditiously exploring your body, wanting to savour every moment of your presence and relishing in the way he is pleasing you.

Luke looks up at you with a smile before his eyebrows furrow and he is distracted by something behind you, causing you to whip your head around to look out your window, immensely alarmed at his expression.

Luke lightly lets go of you, allowing you to sit properly in your seat and as your eyes focus on the window, the sight of a kind-looking restaurant hostess tapping on the glass outside of your door almost sends you reeling into a panic.

Luke quickly reassures you with a laugh, placing his hand on your arm and starting the car before beginning to roll your window down for them to speak.

“I am so sorry if I startled you, but our restaurant has closed, which means we can no longer allow you to park here, as free parking ends at midnight.” the hostess explains politely while pointing to the sign posted on the brick wall just in front of Luke's car.

“Thanks Ma’am. We’re so s-sorry.” Luke pauses to hide his face, clearly hiding that he is about to break into laughter.

“We’ll leave right aw-” Luke laughs out, hardly able to finish his sentence before being sent into a fit of silent laughter.

“We’re so sorry. Have a good night!” you say more seriously, trying to make up for the completely unserious boy beside you.

“Goodnight guys!” the hostess says as she walks away, leaving you completely embarrassed and also scared half to death.

Luke continues dying of laughter and is hunched over the steering wheel as you punch his arm repeatedly to get his attention.

“That was awful! Why are you laughing so hard!” you say unimpressed, but still unable to hold back laughter of your own after seeing him look up at you with tears in his eyes.

“Fuck. I can't get over your face.” Luke says as he begins to come down a little, wiping the tears from his eyes. You just shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, not taking any chances of having to be asked to leave once more.

“Fuck.” he says once more with a sigh, relaxing in his seat and looking over to you with a genuine smile before patting your thigh reassuringly.

You look to Luke expectantly and he stares back at you with a smirk before kissing your lips passionately, catching you off guard.

Your hands are drawn to his face as he nudges your chin with his, causing you to lean into him even further before he pulls away from you abruptly.

“Can I take you home?” Luke asks with lust in eyes as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, admiring every single feature on your face. His words having a different meaning to both of you than they have previously tonight.

“For real this time?? Because you know we cant sit in this parking lot any longer…” you say jokingly as Luke rolls his eyes at you and begins to put his seatbelt on.

“Yes, for real this time.” He retorts. His right hand eagerly finding yours as he interlocks your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss before finally driving off.

#devils lb #nj devils #nhl #luke hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes angst #luke hughes imagine #nhl blurb

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iid-smile · 3 months ago

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his printer , shinazugawa sanemi

x fem!teacher!reader ! modern au, maths teacher sanemi, he's got a big fat crush on you! not proofread

author's note: idk what to put here.. i just couldnt stop thinking about teacher sanemi ahuhuhu 🌝

most people were very aware of mr shinazugawa's bias towards you.

no, more like a crush of sorts. you're a teacher, a fellow colleague of his, and your classroom just so happened to be next to where his maths lessons are held. coincidentally, your room is the only classroom in the school that doesn't have a printer, so you often make trips to his, because his is the closest.

teaching-wise, you're a lot more gentle on your students, so little to no noise was heard except for the shouting coming through the thin shared wall. somehow, mr shinazugawa always manages to get troublemakers to teach, undoubtedly growing more and more irritated and stressed with each day that passes. you don't blame him, obviously, since the only way to get them to behave seemed to be yelling at them.

really, the only time they saw a little bit of light was when an angel liked you walked in, just emitting that addicting aura everywhere you go, a soothing effect of sorts.

his lesson had just come to an end, the kids quickly packing up their things and running out, as per usual. he let out a frustrated sigh in a failed attempt to calm down, running a hand through his messy white hair from all the times he pulled and tugged at it in a silent fit of rage.

just another rowdy and loud set of students coming within the next few minutes. was he ready? not at all. he needs a break, and a long one, yet the school year just started.

suddenly, a very familiar figure moves into the doorway of his classroom, catching his eye. that relaxed, tender gaze that met his fiery ones. he pauses, quickly straightening himself out. he tries to school his facial expression to look more neutral, hoping that would be enough. the last thing he wanted to do was be rude to you.

"need something?" he asks you, his voice coming out a lot more harsh than he intended. in reality, the sight of you had made him a little flustered. a little too flustered. quickly, he glances away from you and crosses his arms over his chest in an effort to look nonchalant.

"just wanted to pop in here before your next class starts..." you slowly approach him, but make sure to keep a professional distance. "are you planning on having a test today, by any chance?"

he slightly raises an eyebrow at you, a little surprised. though the two of you were in different departments, he was used to questions about assignments and whatnot, but not about possible upcoming tests. "yes," he says, "i am. why're you asking?"

for a beat, your expression drops to worry, but you smile once again. "just a bit wary of coming in while the kids are trying to focus. i have some things to print later on, so..."

he lets out a quiet hum of acknowledgment at your reasoning. in all honesty, he never really minded it when you visited to use the printer, even if the kids got a little distracted or chatty. he didn't blame them at all, you were an easy topic to talk about when you were and weren't around.

"you don't really need to ask," he says bluntly. "the kids'll get distracted either way." he uncrosses his arms and lets them fall to his sides, taking a small step toward you. "you're free to come in when you want. printer's always here, don't gotta ask me so much."

you appear to be taken aback. "are you sure?"

he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "yeah. 'course i'm sure." he says, gesturing a hand toward the printer. "nobody needs you going around the entire school to just print something. that takes up extra time you could use to be with the rest of your class."

he doesn't want to admit it out loud, but he also likes having you in close proximity. it provides a nice distraction on not-so-good days like these; which was every day. "saves your feet some rest too. besides, it's not like the kids are doing anything other than talking their asses off until class starts anyway." he says with a shrug. oh, was he talking too much? did he sound too casual?

you stare at him, and your permanent smile widens more, something he hasn't seen before. you actually looked happy— no, relieved. only now has he realised that the difference in your expressions could be so different. "thank you, shinaguzawa."

"it's no problem, miss." he offers the best smile he can himself, pretty crooked, but he's sure you can see it. with a little bow, you turn on your heel and exit the classroom, your hand grazing the doorframe for a moment. his eyes remain fixed to where you just were.

please come back and print some papers. soon too.

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tmwcs · 2 months ago

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PART ONE

Warnings: Nothing unusual to report…not yet. Just references from the last two fairy tales posted in Masterlist. This includes the teaser posted two days ago. If you’ve read the teaser, skip through until you see the red text. That’s where the additional part of the story continues.

“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.”

You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house and another was on her way to a job interview at the local library, but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear.

“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements.

“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary.

The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer.

“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”

Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?”

“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream.

Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.

“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.”

Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.”

“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”

You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride.

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!”

………

The twenty minute drive back seemed much longer than before. Perhaps you’re just tired—all the assignments and study sessions were probably getting to you. You pull up and notice the other car gone. Did your parents go out?

You walk in and took the precautionary measures to lock the door behind. A small note is left propped on the dinner table, addressed to you:

‘Y/N, dinner is in the oven. Your dad and I went out to see some old friends—we will be back later. Love, mom.’

Well, there are worse things than to have an entire house all to yourself. The peaceful and quiet atmosphere was a pleasant contrast from the cyclic ruckus you grew to block out. For once, it was nice to not walk around with headphones and enjoy the stale sound of silence. Yet, it would appear you spoke too soon—your phone rings. Noticing the number, you answer half heartedly “hey girl.”

Your best friend answers with a myriad of giggles and knavery tone. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We have a few transfer students that came in and all of them are going to be at Jess’s party tonight. You coming?”

You sigh. “No, don’t think I will. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired!” Your best friend berates in disappointment. “Come on! At least look at the photo I just sent! They’re gorgeous!”

You spare a half glance at the photo and saw a group of young men posing for a photo. “I can’t—I still have to finish some things and I really am so tired.”

“Fine! You’re no fun but I still love you.” She giggles as she bids you goodbye. The last bit of her words replayed in echoes as you eeee taken back to a time in high school where she said the very same thing before…

‘…You’re no fun, but I still love you.’

You’re quite certain your friend recalls the events that occurred afterwards, when she left you at the theater after you denied her invitation to skip out on class and to attend a social gathering. You had rejected her offer and remained in the projection room to nap for an hour before your next class began. That was when you had the strangest dream. Remnants of that moment came back like pieces of a puzzle when you recalled that time —the dream was vivid and felt so real. A figure walking up and presenting a beautiful red rose—doing so delicately as to not wake you. It was as if you err watching a grainy film as you witnessed the happenings—from him laying the flower in your hand, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead. The strangest bit was when you awoke for your next class, a rose was within your grasp. Yet, the projection room remained locked from the inside, leaving no margin for entry to anyone from the outside. Yet, still…no matter how many times you brushed it off, each moment you come back to that memory it just made you feel like something…something was—

*ring ring*

Your phone rings and you view the screen. You didn’t recognize the number so you ignored the call. The caller didn’t leave a voice message either, probably a scam call. You’ve been getting a lot of them lately.

Other than the two phone calls, your night was rather peaceful. You ate a light dinner and figured it would be best to start your reading materials before it gets too late. Washing the dishes, you scrubbed your plate in soapy water. The surface read covered by foamy bubbles, leaving the bottom elusive. A sharp prick stings the tip of your index finger, causing you to quickly retract your hand from the depths of the warm water. “What the hell?!”

You run the faucet on and rinse the wound under the fluid motion of the lukewarm stream and notice a single red dot. You drained the sink and didn’t notice any broken glass or dishes—what did you poke your finger on?

As the last remnants of soap and bubble spiral down the drain, your eyes caught on to something foreign from the steel background. Was that a…

“…a thorn?”

Your mind was boggled by the existence of a single rose thorn inside the sink. Strange. You held the thorn in hand and studied it for a second before your phone rang once more. It was your mother.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I’m just checking in. Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

You remain somewhat calm as you ponder about the thorn while hearing your mother rant about locking all the doors and windows. “Yeah, got it. Hey mom—“

You quickly catch her before she starts to say her goodbye. “Did you get roses or something?”

“Oh yes—for our friends. I went to the store and grabbed a small bouquet, why?”

You rolled your eyes out of relief and suddenly found the entire situation comical. “Nothing. I just saw a rose thorn in the sink.”

“Oh yes, I had rinsed them in the sink and put them in a vase. Be Careful when washing dishes.”

“Yeeeeah.” Your tone was sarcastic but she didn’t seem to catch on. Instead, she bid you farewell and you both hang up.

Placing the phone down, you felt a wave of fatigue hit you abruptly. Normally you felt tired and lethargic, but never have you felt extremely exhausted so suddenly. Your eyesight became dizzy—your body starts to feel weak. “What the hell…is…”

You couldn’t understand where this sudden sensation of fatigue came from. It’s as overwhelming and nearly took over your entire body—to the point where you found it hard to stand. It was as if you were punched by the sandman. You stumble your way up the stairs—leaning against the bannister on your way up.

Tired…so tired…too tired.

Marching up, you finally reached your bedroom and plopped yourself atop your bed. The mixture of cool and warm temperatures overwhelm you as the texture of the linen absorbs your body heat—the cotton fabric comforting you. Drifting off, you only lasted seconds upon laying down when everything suddenly goes to black.

So sleepy…

Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •

#jay imagines #enha jay #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #jay x reader #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #Jay yandere #yahdere enhypen imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut

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bitchlessdino · 2 years ago

Text

Do it already (m)

Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, slice of life

Word count: 6.5k

tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care

Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.

author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.

His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.

Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.

You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her.

When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.

Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life.

Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.

He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.

Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.

“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.

“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible.

You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”

He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.

The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.

Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.

“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”

He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.

Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.

“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”

Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”

The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”

Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”

He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”

You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.

He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.

“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”

Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.

He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.

“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.

“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”

You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.

The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”

Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.”

Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.

“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”

You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”

“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”

You hummed, “where do I start?”

Let’s see where you could start.

The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.

You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”

“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.

I could say the exact same about you.

“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”

If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.

“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”

Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”

You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”

Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.

“No luck on my end, either.”

Fuck yes.

“Oh, well, that sucks.”

“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”

You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own.

“And sex?” What are you doing?

He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”

Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.

He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”

YES.

“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”

He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”

God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.

“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”

There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.

You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”

He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”

“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.

“Interesting.”

You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”

You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.

“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.

Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.

“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”

The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.

“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.

Then do it. Stop teasing me.

“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”

Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”

His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.

“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”

You were that insane.

“All good.”

You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.

Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.

“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”

Oh. He was going to keep going.

“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.

He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”

You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”

“Did you?”

Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.

Oh, Chan.

“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.

“Flings.” He repeats.

You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”

“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.

“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”

You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”

When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.

He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”

That could change.

You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”

You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.

He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”

“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”

He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?”

He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”

You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”

“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”

His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.

Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.

“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.

“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”

“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”

“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.

“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”

You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.

“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”

Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”

“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.

“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”

Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”

Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”

You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second.

Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”

You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.

“My pretty, little mouth.”

There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”

Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn’t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.

You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this.

He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.

His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”

“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.

Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”

They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.

His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”

Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body.

Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.

You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.

He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”

“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.

“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.

You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.

“Ass in front, right now.”

Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.

“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”

His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.

You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”

Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.

Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”

“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”

Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”

“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”

He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”

Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.

“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”

You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.

“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”

You moan, but not enough.

He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”

You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.

Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed.

Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”

Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him.

“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”

“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”

His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.

But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.

That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.

In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”

You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?

Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.

You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.

Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”

His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”

“And If she isn’t?”

His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”

You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”

“I like you a lot, Y/n.”

“What about your career?”

He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”

You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.”

“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.

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auroras-zenith · 27 days ago

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what doesn't kill you // part 3

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"They say there's a chance you could learn to walk again." He offered, trying to be as optimistic as he could. Lord knows you didn't need another thing to feel bad about.

"How big a chance?"

He flushed, looking away.

He had caught you after you had passed out, moving to sit beside you afterward.

The nurses were beginning to bustle about. You had caught a few pitying glances already–each one only making you wish your bed would swallow you whole.

"It's been done before."

"I know you know the stats." You said with a sigh.

He sighed too, squeezing your hand. "I just... I don't want you to feel like you can't. I know you can."

"Izuku."

He winced. "One in a hundred."

You sunk a little lower beneath the sheets at that.

The silence stretched on, neither of you knowing exactly what to say after that.

"Sorry I'm late." The door quietly swung shut behind the heterochromic boy as he moved to take a seat beside you; saving both of you from the awkward tension. "I couldn't get out of the press conference."

Right. Because for the rest of them, hero work went on.

You pushed the thought to the corner of your mind, adding it to the list of things you'd think about later.

He pulled a chair over, blank eyes softening as he saw you. He leaned over to give you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're okay." He said softly.

"How'd it go? Have you guys found him?" You asked, ignoring the last comment for no reason beyond its awkward nature.

You had learned from Midoriya that you had been out for two weeks, but he hadn't any other information. Apparently, he had spent most of his time here with you.

Todoroki nodded. "Bakugo did. The day after the incident." He informed you solemnly.

Your heart clenched oddly at the name.

"He got to the fucker before the authorities could. Beat him up pretty bad. For a second it looked like Bakugo was going to be charged with assault because the villain could barely walk after, but... given the circumstances..." He looked down, shaking his head.

You flicked a piece of lint off your blanket glumly. "Suppose he's been pretty busy then." You muttered bitterly.

That was the next question you had grilled Midoriya for. Turned out, in the half a month you had been in a coma, Bakugo hadn't dropped by once.

Todoroki looked at you, blinking slowly. "Y/n, it's not like that."

You scoffed but said nothing.

"It really isn't. He was so angry. He is so angry. He didn't go home that night. He stayed up until dawn looking for the villain and didn't stop till he found the guy." He told you. "He's just processing."

You sighed, turning to look out the window. "I guess." You just wished that he could process here. With you. And maybe some better food.

"He'll visit soon."

It was like that for the next couple of days. All of your friends, acquaintances, even a bunch of people you knew only by name–all showing up to wish you a speedy recovery and look at you with their pitying gazes that made your skin crawl.

And yet through it all, Bakugo never showed up.

"Are you up for another visitor?"

You looked up, slightly surprised to see a purple haired girl standing in the doorway. Jirou, as you recalled from high school–or rather, Earphone Jack she went by now.

You shrugged, nodding sulkily. What did it matter, really?

"Thanks for coming." You spoke quietly. So unlike your usual self.

She stared at you for a minute as you stared firmly at your lap. Everyone's pity was starting to drown you alive–and you had concluded that the only way to survive it was to pretend it wasn't there.

"Hiroshi and Yutaka Kota." She finally broke the silence.

You glanced up, confused. "What?"

"The children you saved." The girl answered. "Those were their names."

You shook your head. She must've been confused. "I wasn't able to save them." You whispered, hands clenched tightly together in your lap. "I was too slow.

"You're wrong. They were a bit banged up, but thanks to you they had just enough time to escape before the building really collapsed."

That couldn't have been right. And yet you wished so dearly that it was. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again–whether because you were happy or sad you weren't quite sure.

"I'm really sorry that this happened to you." She said quietly.

But there was something off about her tone. It wasn't pitying. Didn't feel like nails on a chalkboard as most people's did so often nowadays. It was... understanding. It was actually quite nice.

"But I thought it'd be nice for you to know that it wasn't for nothing. Including those two, 326 people accredit their lives to you, Cordelia."

You looked away, feeling the tears leak down your cheeks now.

"Thank you." You whispered. "It was getting really tiring hearing people tell me how 'at least I didn't die,' or some other unrealistically optimistic bullshit."

She snorted. "That's lowkey a weird thing to say to someone."

"Tell me about it."

She looks at you, and smiles.

Why had you two not been close before? You had both gone to UA together–hell, you two had more mutuals than you could count. And yet, you had never found yourselves in the other's company; and even after you both graduated, you never saw her on the field.

"Are you going to go to the hero gala?" She asked after a beat of pause.

Right. The hero gala. In the grand scheme of things, it just seemed so trivial now. "I didn't think I was still invited." You said honestly, letting your shoulders rise and fall.

"Of course you are." She corrected. "Cordelia, if anyone can learn to walk again? It's you. And even if you can't, that doesn't change your legacy. You're amazing, dude."

You smiled softly down at your sheets. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Do. It's in three days. I'll see you there, okay?"

"Wait." You called as she stood before she could make it all the way to the door. "Why did you visit me?" You asked at last.

She smiled to herself, as if thinking upon a fond memory. "You're awesome. I always see you on the news. You're revolutionizing the space. Paving the way for women. It's amazing. Honestly." She told you proudly. "You're amazing, Cordelia."

For the first time in weeks, the load in your eyes lightened slightly, and you felt your lips tug into a small smile. It didn't erase the ache in your heart or bring back feeling to your legs, but it was something.

a/n: istg my tags are broken 🥲 sorry if ur tag doesn't work

taglist:@floverisland @biancatomlinson @rosaryia @highlandhyena @sarashu @rednicotine @emmaiscool22 @your-mum3000 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @sikuthealien

permanent tags: @phtmmsqrde @pikachuzhc

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julia-lestrade · 4 months ago

Text

60s!Paul McCartney x reader

Tunes and Timeless Moments

Authors note : this is a SMUT FREE 60s high school au where the band will exist but it plays before " The Beatles " fanfic

Slow burn and fluff

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff , romance , teen romance , and some use of Y/N

——————————————————————

It was a nice summer day in Liverpool and your class and other people from your grade were getting settled in a school bus as you were about to go on a 4 week field trip , because of a shortage of teachers , so your school has to make time to find new ones . And even though it was a bit full when you and your friends were boarding the coach you still found three free rows and you got one to yourself right next to a window without any things to block it . Now you were chatting with your friend a row ahead when a boy from your class slid into the last empty seat next to you. He flashed a casual grin and said, “Seems like I’ve nabbed the final seat. Hope you don’t mind the company—uhm what is your name again ? “ you look at the boy a bit weirded out , because who Tf speaks to someone they don’t really know , right ? But to be polite you have him a light smile and stretched out your hand to and introduced yourself to him . " y/n – l/n y/n pleasure to meet you ! " the boy just smiles at you and shakes your hand and after a while you start to pull away and ask him for his name wich he finally shares with you … he was called Paul McCartney and then it clicked , he was the music obsessed boy you sat behind of in math class .

(Ugh you know what imma switch to first person perspective)

We both had made small talk from time to time in between school hours or had greeted each other in the school hallway but there was nothing more of any interaction than those . So as one figured after a bit of small talk, the conversation naturally fizzled out. You exchanged names and brief introductions, but now there was an awkward silence. You glanced out the window, watching the few teachers coming with you loading the bus with the bus driver , while he fiddled with his bags straps .

After some time the silence became insufferable and you had to start talking again .

“So, are you excited about the trip ? “ Paul looks up at you and replies with a relieved sigh

“Yeah, sounds interesting enough. I’m just hoping it’s not another one of those places where you’re not allowed to do anything but for things that have educational purposes .”

With slight intrigues I reply to him “Oh, I know what you mean. I find it super annoying . What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into on a trip?”

Paul thinks for a Minute and then replies a few seconds later with a smile playing on his lips “Well, there was that time I tried to ‘borrow’ a statue’s hat at the last museum visit. Turns out, it wasn’t a prop. How about you?”

“I once got stuck in a gift shop because I was trying to sneak a peek at the secret stockroom. Got caught by the shopkeeper. Classic.”

“Sounds like we’re both experts in getting into mischief. Maybe we should stick together today. We could be a team of troublemakers.”

“Deal. Just promise you won’t get us thrown out.”

“No promises. But I’ll try my best. So, what’s your favorite part of these trips?”

“Probably the bus rides. It’s the only time we get to just talk and hang out without worrying about homework.”

“I’m with you there. The bus ride’s the best part. And who knows, maybe we’ll come up with a new adventure story by the end of the day.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies that were suddenly making themselves at home in my stomach. There was something about the way Paul spoke, so effortlessly casual yet with a glint of mischief behind every word. I hadn’t thought much about him before, but sitting next to him now, I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“So, do you play any instruments?” I asked, half expecting a standard reply. It was a question that usually led to a predictable conversation, which, given the awkwardness earlier, felt like a safe bet.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Funny you ask. I’ve been known to mess around with a bass now and then. You?”

“Mess around?” I echoed, laughing lightly. “That’s not very convincing. And no, I’m more of a listener, to be honest. Though I do own a dusty piano .”

“Ah, a listener. Even better. Musicians need an audience, after all,” he teased, tapping his fingers on the armrest as if playing an invisible rhythm.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Are you trying to recruit me as your personal fan?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone in the crowd rooting for me,” he joked, but there was a flicker of something sincere in his eyes.

“Are you any good?” I asked, feeling the conversation loosening up as we both settled into the bus seats. The awkwardness from before had faded, replaced by a lightness that I hadn’t expected.

Paul shrugged modestly. “I suppose you’ll have to find out one day, won’t you?”

“Maybe I will,” I replied, half-smiling. There was a pause as I glanced out the window again. The teachers had finished loading the bags, and the bus was finally starting to pull away from the school. The familiar streets of Liverpool blurred past, but I could already feel the sense of freedom that came with leaving it all behind for a while.

Paul leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him as much as the cramped bus would allow. “Four weeks, huh? Hard to believe we’re getting out of school for that long.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s weird, but kind of exciting. No classes, no homework... just us and a bunch of museums and... whatever else they’ve got planned.”

“Sounds like trouble waiting to happen,” he mused with a grin, then turned to me with a curious look. “So, what do you reckon we’ll do with all that free time?”

I shrugged, thinking it over. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see where the trip takes us. Maybe we’ll be well-behaved and stick to the itinerary, or maybe we’ll end up sneaking off and finding our own adventures.”

“Now you’re talking,” he said, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. Let’s make a pact, yeah? No matter what, we find a way to have some fun on this trip. Deal?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Deal.”

We shook on it, and for the first time since he sat down next to me, the silence that followed felt comfortable. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words. I leaned back in my seat, feeling a little more at ease, and glanced over at him. He was staring out the window now, lost in thought, his fingers

The hours passed as the bus hummed along the winding roads out of Liverpool, and the initial excitement of the trip settled into a comfortable lull. Most of our classmates were either dozing off, flipping through magazines, or talking quietly among themselves. Paul had gone quiet beside me, staring out the window again with that distant look on his face. I wondered if he was thinking about his band or maybe even some new lyrics.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “You ever been away from home this long?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, I’ve gone on a few trips with my family, but never for four weeks. Feels a bit strange, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, stretching his legs out as far as they could go in the cramped space. “Not that I’m complaining, though. Gets me out of school for a bit. Gives me time to work on some songs without all the usual distractions.”

I turned toward him, curious. “What kind of songs are you working on?”

He smiled, but there was something almost shy about it this time. “Just, you know, stuff about life, love, that sort of thing. Trying to find a sound that feels right.”

“Sounds deep,” I teased lightly, though I was genuinely interested. “Think you’ll play any of them on this trip?”

Paul chuckled. “Not sure how well that’d go over with the teachers. But maybe if I can sneak my guitar along, we’ll see.”

“Hey, you’ve got four weeks to work your magic. You could start a bus sing-along or something,” I joked, imagining how chaotic that would get.

“Now that would be a sight,” he laughed. “Though I’m not sure everyone here’s ready for that. You might be the only one who appreciates my questionable taste in music.”

I smirked. “Questionable, huh? Now I’m curious what kind of tunes you’re into.”

He thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the seat again, before grinning. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a taste later. But you’ve got to promise to be brutally honest—none of that polite nodding if you think it’s rubbish.”

“Deal,” I said, feeling a bit of excitement bubbling up. It wasn’t every day you got the chance to hear original music from a classmate who just might be the next big thing.

The bus hit another bump, jolting us both slightly, and Paul shifted in his seat, his expression turning a bit more mischievous . “You know, this trip could be a real chance to get away from all that usual school stuff—figure out what we’re actually good at, you know?”

I nodded, understanding what he meant. “Yeah, it’s nice to get a break from the usual routine. It feels like everything’s always about exams and homework, and you never really get time to think about what you actually want to do.”

He looked at me, his gaze steady. “Exactly. Feels like we’re just going through the motions most of the time. Maybe this trip’s the chance to shake things up a bit.”

We shared a moment of quiet understanding. It was strange to think that this boy I’d barely talked to before today was someone who seemed to get it—the feeling of wanting more than just the typical school routine, of wanting to do something that mattered.

After a moment, Paul’s easy grin returned, and he tilted his head toward the front of the bus. “Think we’ll make it through this trip without any major disasters?”

I laughed. “Not a chance. But hey, at least we’ll have some good stories to tell when we get back.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat again. “That’s the spirit. Let’s make sure they’re worth telling.”

With that, the conversation fell into a more comfortable silence. The miles stretched out ahead of us, and I found myself looking forward to whatever came next. Maybe this trip would be more than just a break from school. Maybe it would be the start of something… interesting.

As I glanced over at Paul, who was now lost in his thoughts again, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of whatever adventure we were about to stumble into.

The bus continued to hum along the road, and after what felt like an eternity of winding through the countryside, I noticed Paul had gone quiet again. He was still beside me, lost in thought, staring out the window at the rolling hills. The earlier ease between us had settled into something quieter, something a little more comfortable but still new.

I shifted in my seat, feeling the stiffness in my legs from sitting for so long. Paul must have noticed because he turned to me with a small smile. “Long ride, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “My legs are starting to feel like they’re turning into jelly.”

He chuckled softly. “Maybe we should’ve brought a guitar or something. Could’ve passed the time with a sing-along.”

I smiled at that. “And what would you have played? Something we all know, or one of your originals?”

Paul shrugged, that same casual smirk playing on his lips. “Depends. I might’ve tested out a new tune if I felt like the crowd was up for it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “New tune? So, you’ve got some secret songs you’re hiding from us?”

“Not exactly,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Just a few ideas, you know? Scribbles in a notebook, half-finished lyrics… nothing special.”

I laughed softly. “I doubt that. You seem like the kind of person who’s always working on something creative.”

Paul looked at me, a little surprised by the compliment. “Maybe. It’s just… you never know when something’s going to stick. Sometimes, you’re just playing around, and then all of a sudden, it turns into something real.”

I nodded, feeling a bit of admiration for him that I hadn’t expected. “I guess that’s the exciting part, right? Not knowing what’s going to come out of it?”

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes lighting up a bit. “That’s what keeps it interesting.”

We fell into another comfortable silence, and this time it didn’t feel awkward at all. Instead, it felt like we were both content to let the conversation come and go as it pleased. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I glanced over at Paul, feeling the conversation drifting into silence again, and decided to ask something that had been on my mind. “So… do you play in a band or anything? You mentioned the bass earlier.”

He looked a little surprised at the question, then smiled, a hint of something more serious in his expression. “Yeah, actually. A few of us have been messing around with the idea. It’s nothing big yet, just playing a few tunes in garages or wherever we can.”

I tilted my head, intrigued. “That sounds pretty cool. How’d you get into it?”

Paul shrugged, a bit more relaxed now. “I’ve always loved music, ever since I was a kid. My dad plays piano, and I just sort of… picked things up. Then, once I got my hands on a guitar, there was no going back.”

“That’s impressive,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “I always thought about learning an instrument, but I never really got past a few half-hearted piano lessons.”

He chuckled. “Piano’s not a bad place to start. But you know, it’s never too late to try something new. Could always join us for a jam session.”

“Me?” I laughed, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Hey, everyone’s got to start somewhere,” Paul said with a grin. “Besides, it’s more about having fun than being perfect.”

I smiled at that, appreciating his easygoing attitude. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ll surprise you one day and show up with a tambourine or something.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy. “Now that would be something. We could always use more percussion.”

Paul’s laughter lingered for a moment, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more comfortable now. The awkwardness had melted away, replaced by a casual warmth between us.

“So,” I said, glancing out the window at the countryside rolling by, “what kind of music do you guys play? Is it, like, rock and roll?”

He nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yeah, that’s the idea. Rock and roll, a bit of skiffle—stuff that makes you want to move, you know? We’re still figuring it out, but we’ve been covering a lot of Chuck Berry, Little Richard… those kinds of tunes.”

“Chuck Berry, huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s some serious stuff. You must be pretty good.”

Paul shrugged modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “We’re getting there. It’s all about practice. But it’s not just about being good—it’s about having fun with it, and seeing where it takes us.”

I nodded, impressed. “That sounds amazing. I don’t know many people who actually follow through on something like that.”

“Well,” he said with a grin, “we’ll see if we can make something of it. For now, it’s just nice to have an excuse to hang out with the lads and make some noise.”

“Do you have a name for the band yet?” I asked, leaning into the conversation now, genuinely curious.

Paul laughed, shaking his head. “Not yet. We’ve been throwing around ideas, but nothing’s stuck so far. Naming a band’s harder than you’d think. It’s got to feel right, you know?”

I smiled at that. “Yeah, I can imagine. It’s like naming a baby or something—it’s got to fit.”

“Exactly!” He pointed at me, nodding. “We don’t want to pick something we’ll regret later on.”

“Well, if you need any suggestions, I’m here to help,” I said playfully.

Paul chuckled. “I might just take you up on that.”

We fell into a more comfortable silence after that, but this time it didn’t feel awkward. Instead, it felt like the start of something new, like this conversation was the first step toward an unexpected friendship. The bus continued to rumble along the road, and I leaned back in my seat, feeling lighter than I had at the beginning of the trip.

As the scenery blurred by outside, Paul tapped his fingers on his knee, lost in thought. “You know,” he said after a moment, “I think this trip could be a good time to work on some new songs. Get some fresh ideas.”

“Yeah?” I asked, intrigued. “What inspires you when you write?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Anything, really. A bit of life, love, people I meet… sometimes it’s just a feeling that comes out of nowhere. You never know when inspiration will hit, so you’ve got to be ready.”

“That’s pretty deep,” I said, half-teasing but also impressed. “I guess I never really thought about songwriting like that.”

Paul smiled at me, his eyes softening. “It’s not as complicated as it sounds. You just… write what you feel, you know? Maybe one day you’ll give it a try.”

“Maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I had that kind of talent. Still, the idea of trying something new, of exploring creativity, sounded appealing.

The bus hit a small bump, jostling us both in our seats, and we shared a brief laugh at the unexpected jolt. The conversation started to drift again, but this time, it felt natural. We didn’t need to fill the silence with forced words. The bus continued on, carrying us toward whatever adventures lay ahead.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the next few weeks would bring, and whether this unexpected connection with Paul would turn into something more than just a fleeting conversation on a school bus.

After we all gathered our bags, the teachers started dividing us into our assigned rooms. The sun was nearly set by now, casting a soft orange glow through the windows of the old estate. The long day of travel had caught up with everyone, and the buzz of excitement had faded into tired chatter.

"Y/N, Room 12," one of the teachers called, ticking off names on a clipboard. I nodded, tightening my grip on my bag and heading inside the building. Paul was still beside me, waiting to hear his own room assignment.

"McCartney, Room 9," another teacher announced, and Paul raised his hand with a small grin.

“Looks like we’re not too far from each other,” he said, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “Not bad.”

I smiled back. “Yeah, close enough to find each other if we need to plot any late-night escapes.”

Paul laughed lightly. “You never know. But for tonight, I think I’m just going to crash. Too knackered for any adventures.”

"Same here," I agreed, stifling a yawn. The thought of a bed sounded incredibly appealing after a long day cooped up on the bus.

We both followed the hallway until it split off into different sections. My room was down one corridor, and his was down another. Paul turned to face me as we reached the split, flashing a tired but sincere smile.

“Well, goodnight then,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” I replied. “Goodnight, Paul. Sleep well.”

“You too,” he said with a small wave before turning and walking off toward his room.

I headed to my own room, pushing open the door to find it was already half-occupied by another girl from my grade. She looked just as exhausted as I felt, already halfway through unpacking her things onto her bed. We exchanged tired smiles and quick introductions before both agreeing to call it a night and save any further conversation for tomorrow.

After a quick change into my pajamas, I climbed into bed, the weight of the day finally settling over me. I could hear faint murmurs of conversation through the thin walls, including what might have been Paul's voice from down the hall. But soon, even that faded as the building grew quiet, and sleep started to pull me under. The last thought I had before drifting off was that this trip was just beginning, and I had a feeling there was much more to come—especially when it came to Paul.

-Paul’s POV -

Paul flopped onto his bed with a contented sigh, letting his tired limbs sink into the surprisingly soft mattress. The room was modest but comfortable, with a pair of neatly made beds, a small dresser, and a window that let in a sliver of the moonlight.

George, who was sprawled on his own bed across the room, looked up from fiddling with his guitar case. “So, how’s your day been, mate?” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and exhaustion.

Paul grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. “Not too bad. Got to know someone from our class a bit better. You know, Y/N? They ended up sitting next to me on the bus.”

George raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, really? And how’d that go?”

“Pretty well, actually,” Paul said, shrugging. “We talked about the trip, a bit about music. Seems like a decent sort. We’re both in for some fun, I reckon.”

George smirked. “And here I thought you’d be too busy plotting your next great escape to talk to anyone.”

Paul chuckled. “Hey, a little adventure is always better with company, right? Besides, I didn’t exactly get any time to plot today. The bus ride was more about trying not to fall asleep and making sure I didn’t annoy everyone around me.”

George laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the small room. “Fair enough. And what did you think of the place so far? Not too shabby, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s got its charm,” Paul said, glancing around the room. “Bit different from the usual. Feels like we’re really on a proper adventure now. I mean, four weeks in this old place? It’s bound to be interesting.”

George nodded, strumming a few chords on his guitar absentmindedly. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time. And you know what they say—new experiences are always worth a shot.”

“Exactly,” Paul agreed, sitting up and stretching. “It’ll be nice to get away from the usual grind. Plus, we’ll have plenty of time to mess about, come up with new tunes, and maybe even make some new friends.”

George glanced over, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got that right. And with this lot, who knows what kind of trouble we’ll get up to.”

Paul grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. “Trouble, new friends, and maybe even some inspiration for new songs. Sounds like a good plan to me.”

As the conversation continued, the two friends talked about their plans for the upcoming weeks, sharing their hopes and expectations. The room was filled with a relaxed, easy camaraderie that only grew stronger with the passing minutes. It was a quiet, comfortable end to a long day, and as Paul finally settled into his bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.

“Well, time for some shut-eye,” Paul said, stifling a yawn. “Big day ahead tomorrow.”

George nodded in agreement, his guitar case now closed and resting by his bed. “Goodnight, Paul. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, George,” Paul replied, turning off the bedside lamp and letting the darkness envelop the room. As he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts wandered back to Y/N and the promise of the adventures that lay ahead.

As George’s breathing settled into a rhythmic, steady pattern, Paul lay awake in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a whirl of thoughts and images from the day.

He couldn’t help but replay the moments he’d shared with Y/N. Her easy smile and quick wit had made a strong impression on him. He found himself wondering what it would be like to spend more time with her, to see where their conversations could lead. There was something undeniably engaging about her—a spark of curiosity and a willingness to engage in lighthearted banter that had struck a chord with him.

Paul thought about the little details of their interaction: how she had seemed genuinely interested when he mentioned his band and how she had laughed at his jokes. The thought of her intrigued him more than he expected. He recalled the way she looked when she mentioned her dusty piano, her eyes lighting up just a bit. He wondered if she might be someone who could appreciate the kind of music he was passionate about, someone who might even share some of his own interests.

He shifted slightly in his bed, trying to get comfortable as he continued to muse over the potential for new friendships and adventures. The trip was supposed to be a break from the usual grind, but Paul was beginning to see it as a chance to explore not just new places, but new relationships and possibilities.

As the minutes ticked by, Paul’s thoughts wandered to what the next few weeks might hold. Would he and Y/N find themselves paired up for group activities, or would they stumble upon shared interests that brought them closer? He imagined showing her his guitar, maybe even playing a few of his songs, and wondered if she would be interested in hearing them.

There was a small thrill in the uncertainty of it all—the sense of adventure that came with not knowing exactly what was around the corner. Paul felt a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The future was full of potential, and he was eager to see where it would lead.

-Time skip to the next morning -

(Still Paul’s pov)

Eventually, the gentle hum of the night and the comfortable rhythm of his own thoughts began to lull him into sleep. Paul’s mind settled on the possibilities that lay ahead, the idea of new friendships, and the hope that this trip would bring some unexpected but welcome surprises.

Paul settled at the breakfast table with his friends and bandmates, John, George, and Ringo. The morning sun filtered through the dining room windows, casting a warm glow on the old wooden tables. The room buzzed with the chatter of students excitedly discussing the day’s activities. Paul, however, found himself somewhat distracted.

As his friends debated over the itinerary for the day, Paul’s gaze kept drifting toward Y/N’s table. She was laughing at something her friends had said, her laughter a pleasant melody that seemed to stand out against the background noise. Paul tried to focus on the conversation at his table, but he couldn’t help but glance over every so often.

John, ever perceptive, noticed Paul’s wandering attention. With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned closer to Paul and nudged him with an elbow. “Oi, Paul, what’s caught your eye?”

Paul snapped out of his daydream, his face warming as he realized he had been caught. He looked at John with a sheepish grin. “Oh, nothing much. Just... taking in the morning.”

John raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Right. It seems like you’ve got a special interest in Y/N this morning. Didn’t know you were so keen on the company.”

Paul tried to brush it off, though he could feel himself blushing. “I was just thinking about how the trip might turn out. It’s nice to have some company, that’s all.”

John’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Well, if you’re thinking of making a move, you might want to be subtle about it. Can’t have you making a fool of yourself right out of the gate.”

Ringo, who had been listening with amusement, chimed in. “Looks like Paul’s got himself a bit of a crush. We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

Paul chuckled nervously, trying to regain his composure. “It’s not like that. Just trying to figure out how we might end up interacting more. Could be interesting, you know?”

George, sensing Paul’s discomfort, gave him a supportive nudge. “Don’t worry about it too much. We’re all here to have a good time. If you end up talking to Y/N more, that’s just part of the adventure.”

As breakfast wound down, the group’s attention shifted to the plans for the day. Paul couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement mingled with nerves. He stole one last glance at Y/N, who was now chatting animatedly with her friends. Despite the teasing from his bandmates, Paul felt a genuine eagerness to get to know her better.

The transition from breakfast to the first activity of the day was quick. The group gathered their things and made their way to the bus, ready for the day’s adventures. Paul joined his friends, the teasing continuing in good spirits, but his mind kept drifting back to the promise of new experiences and the possibility of spending more time with Y/N.

As the bus pulled away from the accommodation, the landscape of the small town began to unfold before them. The anticipation of the day ahead mingled with Paul’s curiosity about Y/N, making the journey feel both exciting and full of potential.

The bus pulled up to the Natural History Museum, and the students began to disembark with excited chatter. The grand facade of the museum loomed ahead, its imposing columns and intricate stonework hinting at the treasures inside. As the group gathered in front of the entrance, the teachers began organizing everyone into pairs for the day’s exploration.

Paul and Y/N had been mingling with their friends, chatting about the exhibits they hoped to see, when one of the teachers called out. “Alright, everyone, we’re going to pair up for the museum tour. Make sure you’re with someone you can work well with!”

Paul glanced over at Y/N, who was also scanning the crowd, likely looking for a familiar face. Just as he was about to suggest they stick together, the teacher’s voice rang out again. “Paul McCartney and Y/N L/N, you’re a pair for the day. Find a partner and get started on the tour!”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat as he turned to Y/N, who looked pleasantly surprised. “Looks like we’re teamed up,” he said with a grin.

Y/N returned the smile. “Guess we’re spending the day together. Ready for some museum exploration?”

Paul nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Let’s make the most of it.”

As they entered the museum, the grandeur of the exhibits immediately captured their attention. Fossils, minerals, and ancient artifacts filled the expansive halls, each display more intriguing than the last. The museum guide provided a brief overview of the day’s activities and handed out maps, urging everyone to start exploring.

Paul and Y/N made their way through the exhibits, their conversation flowing easily as they navigated the museum’s vast interior. The initial awkwardness from the bus seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a shared curiosity and enthusiasm for the exhibits. They wandered through the dinosaur gallery, marveled at the minerals on display, and even took turns trying to identify the various fossils.

At one point, they found themselves in front of a particularly impressive diorama featuring prehistoric mammals. Paul leaned closer, examining the display. “These creatures are incredible. Imagine what it must have been like when they roamed the Earth.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide with fascination. “It’s amazing to think about how different the world was back then. I’ve always found stuff like this so fascinating.”

Paul glanced at her, noting the genuine excitement in her expression. “You know, I’ve got a bit of a fascination with history myself. Not just the music stuff. There’s something about learning how the world used to be that’s really intriguing.”

Y/N smiled, clearly enjoying the conversation. “I can relate. It’s like stepping back in time and seeing things from a different perspective. Makes you appreciate how much things have changed.”

As they continued their tour, Paul found himself more and more comfortable around Y/N. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared discoveries and laughter. It was clear that their time together was turning into something enjoyable and meaningful.

With each exhibit they explored, the day seemed to get better. The initial excitement of the field trip had settled into a genuine connection between the two of them. By the time they took a break in the museum’s café, Paul and Y/N were laughing and chatting like old friends.

“So,” Paul said, taking a sip of his drink, “how are you finding the museum so far?”

“It’s been fantastic,” Y/N replied, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, but having a good tour guide and a great partner definitely makes a difference.”

Paul grinned. “I’d say we make a pretty good team. Here’s to more adventures.”

Y/N raised her cup in a mock toast. “Cheers to that.”

As they finished their break and headed back to explore the remaining exhibits, Paul couldn’t help but feel that the day was turning out better than he’d imagined. Spending time with Y/N had been unexpectedly enjoyable, and he was looking forward to what the rest of the field trip would bring.

-Y/Ns POV -

As Paul and I finished our break in the café, we headed toward the museum’s next big attraction: the Butterfly House. The sun streamed through the glass ceiling, creating a warm, almost magical atmosphere. The Butterfly House was a lush, green paradise filled with colorful flowers and fluttering butterflies of every shade imaginable.

“Wow, this place is incredible,” I said, looking around at the vibrant display of nature.

Paul grinned, clearly just as taken with the exhibit. “It’s like stepping into a different world, isn’t it? All these butterflies—such a riot of colors.”

We walked along the winding path through the Butterfly House, surrounded by the gentle hum of butterflies flitting about. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the soft rustle of the leaves added to the serene ambiance.

I watched as a particularly large butterfly landed on a nearby flower. “Look at that one—it’s huge! I’ve never seen one like it before.”

Paul leaned closer, squinting at the butterfly. “That’s a Swallowtail, I think. They’re pretty common, but they’re always impressive to see up close.”

We continued down the path, pausing occasionally to admire the butterflies landing on the flowers and even a few that landed on our shoulders or arms. It felt like a gentle, almost playful interaction with nature.

“So,” Paul said, breaking the pleasant silence, “what do you think of all this? It’s pretty amazing, right?”

“I love it,” I replied, smiling at the sight of a butterfly landing gently on my hand. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful. I never expected to enjoy it this much.”

Paul chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “I’m glad we’re having a good time. It’s nice to just take a break from the usual routine and soak in something like this.”

We continued walking, enjoying the beauty around us. Paul’s easy demeanor and the relaxed environment made for a perfect combination, and I found myself feeling more at ease with each passing moment.

After spending some time in the Butterfly House, we decided to explore the museum’s main exhibition hall. The hall was grand and filled with a diverse range of exhibits, from ancient artifacts to natural history displays.

As we moved through the various exhibits, Paul pointed out interesting facts and shared his own observations, making the experience more engaging. We found ourselves getting lost in conversations about everything from historical events to the mysteries of the natural world.

“This place is a treasure trove of information,” I said, looking around at the impressive displays. “There’s so much to take in.”

Paul nodded, his enthusiasm evident. “It really is. I could spend all day here just exploring and learning new things.”

We spent hours wandering through the exhibits, and as the day went on, I felt a growing sense of camaraderie with Paul. Our shared curiosity and enthusiasm made for great company, and I was genuinely enjoying our time together.

As we made our way back to the entrance, Paul looked over at me with a smile. “So, how do you feel about the day so far?”

“It’s been fantastic,” I said, returning his smile. “I didn’t expect to have such a great time. Thanks for making it so enjoyable.”

Paul’s eyes sparkled with a mix of gratitude and amusement. “Glad to hear that. It’s been a pleasure exploring with you.”

We walked out of the museum together, the sun beginning to set and casting a warm glow over the city. The day had been filled with discovery and laughter, and I found myself looking forward to more moments like this as the field trip continued.

As Paul and I made our way back to the bus after a full day at the museum, we decided to take one last stroll around the museum grounds. We came across a small garden area that had been carefully maintained and was home to a variety of plants and, of course, more butterflies.

I stopped to admire a particularly vibrant flower bed, and Paul followed my gaze. “Look at that—more butterflies. They really seem to love this place.”

I chuckled and pointed to a patch of bugs crawling on the leaves. “You know, seeing all these bugs makes me think of something ridiculous.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Well,” I began with a grin, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of these little guys look like they’re having a bit of a band meeting. If I had to name a band after these bugs, I’d call them ‘The Beetles.’”

Paul blinked, then burst into laughter. “The Beetles? That’s brilliant! They’d definitely have a unique sound—imagine their hit single, ‘I Want to Hold Your Beetle.’”

I laughed along with him, enjoying the playful banter. “Exactly! And their debut album could be ‘With a Little Help from My Bugs.’”

Paul wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “You’ve got a real knack for coming up with names. I’m impressed.”

“Well,” I said, “if you ever need a band name or a joke for your future concerts, you know where to find me.”

We continued our walk, still laughing about the joke. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the museum grounds. As we approached the bus, Paul looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, “that’s actually not a bad idea. I think ‘The Beetles’ could work—if only there were enough bugs to fill out the band.”

“Hey, you never know,” I said with a wink. “Maybe we’ll discover a whole new world of insect rock stars.”

We boarded the bus, the laughter from our earlier joke still lingering in the air. As we found our seats, Paul and I exchanged smiles, feeling a new level of camaraderie. It had been a day full of discoveries and laughter, and I couldn’t wait to see what other adventures awaited us on this field trip.

As we settled back into our seats on the bus, the remnants of our laughter still lingering, I couldn’t help but continue with the playful theme. “You know,” I said with a mischievous grin, “if you’re serious about naming a band after these bugs, maybe you should tweak the name a bit.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” I began, “instead of ‘The Beetles,’ why not change it to ‘The Beatles’? It sounds a bit more... musical, don’t you think?”

Paul’s eyes widened in surprise as he processed the suggestion. “The Beatles? That’s actually quite clever. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” I said, pleased with his reaction. “And it’s got that whole play on words thing going on—‘beat’ as in rhythm and ‘beatle’ as in the bug. It’s perfect for a band.”

Paul chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. “You know, you might be onto something there. If I ever start a band, I might just have to use that name.”

I laughed. “Well, if that ever happens, I expect a backstage pass.”

Paul grinned. “Deal. And I’ll make sure to credit you for the name idea.”

As the bus began to pull away, taking us to our accommodations for the night, Paul and I continued chatting about music and our favorite bands. The playful banter had turned into a more engaging conversation, and I was enjoying every moment of it.

The name ‘The Beatles’ had become an inside joke between us, a reminder of a day filled with unexpected fun and connection. As we arrived at our lodgings and prepared for the evening, I couldn’t help but feel that this field trip was turning out to be far more interesting than I’d originally anticipated.

As the days rolled by on our field trip, what started as a casual acquaintance had evolved into something much more meaningful. By the time the final week arrived, Paul and I had settled into a comfortable rhythm, our conversations flowing effortlessly and our shared laughter becoming a staple of our daily interactions.

Our time exploring museums, historical sites, and even the occasional impromptu adventure had drawn us closer. We had spent countless hours together, whether it was discussing our favorite bands, trying to solve random trivia questions, or simply enjoying the quiet moments on the bus rides between destinations.

The final week of the trip arrived with a sense of bittersweet anticipation. On one hand, we were looking forward to returning home and sharing our experiences with friends and family. On the other, it was hard to imagine not seeing Paul every day, not sharing those spontaneous jokes or planning our next playful escapade.

One evening, as we sat on a bench overlooking a scenic park near our lodgings, I turned to Paul, who was idly strumming on his guitar. The soft strains of his music blended with the tranquil surroundings, creating a serene atmosphere that seemed to echo the sentiment of our time together.

“Can you believe it’s almost over?” I asked, watching as the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Paul glanced up, his expression thoughtful. “It’s gone by so quickly. Feels like just yesterday we were trying to come up with band names for a bunch of bugs.”

I laughed softly, the memory bringing a warm feeling. “Yeah, and who would have thought that joke would turn into one of our favorite inside jokes?”

Paul smiled, setting his guitar aside and turning to face me. “It’s been an amazing trip. I didn’t expect to make such a good friend, let alone someone I’d look forward to seeing every day.”

I met his gaze, feeling a flutter of emotion. “I know what you mean. This trip has been a lot more memorable because of you.”

We shared a comfortable silence, the evening air cool against our skin. The park was quiet except for the distant sounds of other tourists and the occasional rustle of leaves. It was a peaceful moment, one that seemed to encapsulate everything we had experienced together over the past few weeks.

As the sun set and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, I felt a sense of gratitude for the connection we had built. The upcoming departure felt like a poignant end to a chapter that had brought unexpected joy and companionship.

Paul’s voice broke the silence gently. “You know, even when this trip ends, I hope we stay in touch. It’s been really great getting to know you.”

I nodded, smiling warmly. “I’d like that too. It’s been an incredible journey, and I’m glad we’ve shared it.”

As we sat there, watching the stars emerge and the city lights begin to twinkle in the distance, I couldn’t help but feel that this final week had been the culmination of something truly special. It was the end of an adventure, but also the beginning of a new connection that I hoped would last long after the field trip was over.

The final days of our field trip flew by in a whirlwind of excitement and nostalgia. Before we knew it, the bus was pulling back into our school parking lot, and the familiar sights of our hometown began to come into view. As we disembarked and said our goodbyes to the teachers and other students, there was a palpable sense of both relief and sadness.

Paul and I lingered near the bus, our luggage in hand, as the excitement of returning home mingled with the wistfulness of leaving behind the memorable experiences we had shared. We chatted about our favorite moments and laughed over inside jokes from the trip, trying to hold onto the easy camaraderie we had built.

As the crowd began to thin and students reunited with their families, Paul glanced at me with a thoughtful expression. “Hey,” he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

I looked at him, curiosity piqued. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Paul hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Well, we’ve spent a lot of time together over the past few weeks, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Maybe catch a movie or just hang out, you know?”

I felt a surge of warmth at his words, a mixture of surprise and happiness. “Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light but unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

Paul’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he nodded, a hopeful smile on his lips. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’d really like to get to know you even better.”

I smiled back, feeling a flutter of excitement. “I’d like that too. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Paul’s grin widened, and he let out a relieved laugh. “Great! I’ll figure out a time and place, and we can make plans. I promise not to drag you into any more bug-related band name discussions.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll hold you to that. But seriously, I’m looking forward to it.”

As we gathered our belongings and headed toward the school entrance, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what was to come. The field trip had been an unforgettable experience, and now, with this new chapter beginning, I was eager to see where it would lead. The prospect of spending more time with Paul, exploring our growing connection, and creating new memories made the end of the trip feel like a new beginning.

Authors note: I initially intended on making this a series but I wasn’t sure if anybody would read it so please tell me if you are interested!!!

#paul mccartney x reader #paul McCartney x you #paul mccartney x y/n #paul mccartney #the Beatles #John Lennon #ringo starr #George Harrison #high school #romance #x Reader #x you #x by

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lixiektty · 2 years ago

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old friend — a jake sim 20th birthday special, coming soon

๛ word count: 600 (not sure how much for the full fic yet, probably less that 10k)

๛ warnings/kinks: dom!jake, sub!reader, idol!jake, language, time skips, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol, fiction writing, unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, degradation, praise, creampie, breast play, please feel free to let me know if i miss anything!!

๛ author's note: i've always wanted to try writing this scenario especially with jake and hyunjin, it wasn't even until last week where i was like "i have to do this" and here i am writing this on the 9th and deciding to make it a birthday special for my baby daddy.

๛ summary: two year trainee, jake sim, finally made his debut as a soloist and has made it big— leading to a headlining world tour only a year after debut. when coming into the states after his shows in korea, he visits with an old high school friend only to be reminded of how much he as in love with her like he was when he was 17. if only he knew what she hid on her laptop.

๛ taglist: open | closed

"shit," jake cursed under his breath.

his phone hadn't been receiving emails for the last two days, and it was starting to freak him out. he feared if there had been anything sent to him, it would need to be responded to within a certain period.

thank god he was here with you, and you had a computer. he was sure of it, "angel," he called out.

"yes?" you reply, picking up a folded blanket laying underneath your table to drape onto yourself.

"could i use your computer? my phone's trippin' balls and i can't get to any of my emails," he asked, standing up and walking over to the couch so he could see your face.

"yeah, go for it. it should be sitting on my bed," you said, stretching your body along the couch and turning your attention back to the movie you watched.

"you're the best," jake turned to go into your bed room, laptop on your bed just as you said— slightly open with the light beaming brightly from the inside.

he walked over to your bed and kicked his feet up, just like he was at his own home. he considered it his and so did you, and that's what brought you closer again. being around each other like roommates, you only wished it'd last longer.

it would only take about five minutes to check his emails and reply to the important ones, but once he had that laptop open he was introduced to many things.

a certain open tab on your window caught his eye, only being able to read a name. his name. so being the curious bastard he was, he clicked on it reading every word written on the page. his brain was filled with many thoughts, not fully sure if he should react right now.

it was a shock. why was this on your computer, and was the sinful imagines, the literal porn in word form, your doing? something brought jake to his feet, eyes focused on every line even scrolling down to read more.

all this time, jake thought you had forgotten about him and found someone else to be interested in since he had abandoned you to purse his dream. he never slept with, thought about, or looked at another girl ever since he left. and here you were thinking about him in ways only someone extremely dirty would think.

jake was out the door before he knew it, still reading the fiction but soon coming to a stop, looking up and seeing your resting form on the couch.

you had been so distracted you hadn't heard jake open the door behind you. "y/n," jake said softly, coming from out of your room further, computer in hand, "what the fuck is this?"

you sat up and turned back towards him, not sure of what he could be talking about. you got up onto your feet and walked his way. you could've thought it was just a virus suddenly appearing once jake using your laptop with the way he was staring at the screen— no.

it was so much worse than that. the second the screen was turned your way, your eyes got big and your heart instantly sank. there was no way.

"have you been writing about me?!"

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enha smut #enha imagines #jake smut #jake imagines #jake sim smut #jake sim imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #smut #imagine #imagines

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burgundybmw · 2 years ago

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Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,827

Warnings: Cheating (not Steve), Mentions of sex (No smut), Shitty boy behavior (OC).

Summary: After catching her high school sweetheart in bed with another woman, Y/N quickly realizes that moving half way across the country to be with her boyfriend was a big mistake. Stuck in Hawkins for the rest of the year, Y/N has to navigate the struggles of moving to a new town, going to class, and mending a broken heart. However, Hawkins has a certain way of changing a person's life forever. Will it be the fresh start Y/N desperately needs? Or a nightmare much bigger than a break up?

Author’s Note: This will be multi chapter, don't know how many parts yet. Steve deserves some attention after all the Eddie hype (as much as I love them both). Also Hawkins has a University.

Part One

Her mother always told her not to make major life decisions for a boy. High school romances may not last forever, but she was determined to prove her wrong. Chris Ryan was the one. They'd been together since the beginning of freshman year, they were going to get married, settle down, pop out a few kids. Live the whole nuclear family life he planned for them. When Chris got a football scholarship to Notre Dame, Y/N thought she could handle the long distance. But Indiana is so far away from the boroughs of New York.

Chris left for school in early August, wanted to get a lay of the land before class started. Y/N was disappointed, she wanted to spend the entire summer together. He told her that it was best for them in the end, and she believed him. They talked on the phone every week, but when Chris told her he was staying in Indiana over winter break after only a few weeks into the semester, she knew she had to figure something out. So after only one semester at Brooklyn College under her belt, Y/N decided to transfer to Hawkins University.

With less than an hour drive they could see each other every week. It was the perfect plan. Y/N neglected to tell Chris any of this, she didn't want him to be disappointed that she didn't apply to the same school. She was smart enough to get in, but the price of tuition was too much to handle. Hawkins University was the best compromise she could come up with. Everything else she had planned out to a T.

First she got her drivers license, knowing she'd need it to make the two hour drive to Notre Dame and back once she got there. Chris would probably be too busy with football and school to go to Hawkins, so she made things easier for him. Then she bought her first car, it carved up a chunk of her savings, but she was thankful she never had to ride the 5 train again. She found a small apartment within her budget, 15 minutes away from campus. She'd have to get a job once she got there, but her mother agreed to help with the rent if she needed it. Next she said goodbye to her mother, and although she didn't agree with her daughters decision, she respected the fact that she was an adult now, told her she could always come home if things didn't work out. After that all that was left was to pack up her 1969 Dodge Van and make the long journey to Indiana.

The drive was was miserable, bitter winds and icy roads that Y/N had to navigate. Fortunately most of the roads were empty, everyone settled in their spots to celebrate the new year. She hoped she made it on time to kiss Chris at the stroke of midnight. It would be the first time since they started dating that they didn't spend New Year's Eve together if she din't make it, and Y/N thought it would be bad luck if she didn't start 1986 by his side. However, lady luck was by her side as she pulled into Notre Dame's campus at 11:32. She visited once to help Chris move into his dorm, not wanting to waste a single moment she could.

It took her while to find the building in the dark, but managed to find it by 11:51. Y/N had 9 minutes to find Chris, and she was nearly jumping out of her seat. She was so excited to see the look on his face when she surprised him. His big blue eyes widening when she walks in the door. Y/N imagined him picking her up and spinning her around the room, showering her face with kisses. As she parked her van in an empty spot, she noticed a group of guys in jerseys standing in the front lawn. Chris and some of his teammates must have been throwing a New Years Eve party. She got out of the car and made her way to the front door, the men beside the front door completely oblivious to her presence.

As Y/N walked in she noticed that the front desk was empty, whoever staffed there probably went home for the holidays. She ventured on through the hallways, navigating her way through a sea of drunk college students shuffling between dorms. Chris and his roommate were on the third floor, and after nearly getting drenched with cheap beer, Y/N finally found the elevator.

Her heart was pounding, in just a few minutes she'd finally see him. Five months was such a long time, and she couldn't wait to be with Chris. Each second inside the elevator felt like an eternity, but after a few minutes the doors finally opened. Y/N saw that the third floor was just a busy as the ground level. It looked like a lot of students planned on staying over winter break. "We Built This City" was blasting on someone's boombox, nearly drowned out by the loud yells of the Notre Dame student body, alongside the screeching of kazoos and whistles. Everybody was in full spirits to celebrate the New Year, but she drowned out the noise, focused on her goal.

"#30, #32, #34..." Y/N counted to herself, trying to find Chris's room. The cheers from the hallway were getting louder, waiting to count the last seconds of 1985. After a moment she finally found it. Chris was just on the other side of the door. She rushed to the door of room #38, the final countdown was starting.

"5!" If Y/N was paying attention she would have noticed the sock hanging there.

"4!" Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel something off about the door knob, but she didn't think too much about it.

"3!" The door was opening now, the room pitch black. Was Chris sleeping?

"2!" Y/N found the switch, flipping it up to drown the room in light.

"1! Happy New Year!" Voices were cheering throughout the hall, but the only thing Y/N could hear was the sounds of grunting coming from within the room. There he was.. Chris Ryan.. the love of her life for the past 5 years.. fucking some other girl.

He didn't notice the light was on at first, but the red head beneath him did. She screamed, not in pleasure, but in shock that someone had entered the room. She made eye contact with Y/N and rushed to cover herself up, not wanting to expose what was going on, even if both them knew.

"What's wrong baby?" Chris still didn't notice. He had no clue that Y/N was standing just 8 ft away from him, had no clue that her heart just shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There's a girl at the door!" The redhead shouted, grabbing her bra that was hanging on the metal headboard behind them.

"What?" That's when he finally turned around, and this wasn't the look of surprise Y/N wanted. A pregnant pause filled the room, as the redhead girl jumped off the bed to find her clothes.

"Y/N!? What are you doing here!?" Chris shouted, covering the lower half of his body with the blanket she crocheted him junior year. It was a Christmas present, she spent months on it.

"Y/N? Who's Y/N?" The redhead asked, as she struggled to put her shoes back on.

"I'm Y/N... his girlfriend." The silence was deafening. Chris was staring at her, jaw dropped and a wild look in his blue eyes. His normally perfectly combed blonde hair was messy, evidence that fingers were running through it only moments ago. The redhead in the corner looked just as shocked. That look of shock quickly changed to anger as she grabbed one of Chris's boots on the floor to throw it at him.

"Girlfriend!? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend!?" Y/N looked around the room. Back in Brooklyn, Y/N's walls were filled with pictures. Photos of her and her mother on their vacation to Watkins Glen, plenty of polaroids of her high school friends, and tons of pictures of her and Chris together throughout the years. Chris's walls weren't like that. He had the Notre Dame pennant above his bed, a poster of Heather Locklear on the wall next to it. Y/N didn't notice unpacking that when she moved him in over the summer. What she did notice was the lack of pictures of her.

Y/N gave him a few framed photos of them together to decorate with when she left. One was their prom photo, another was from when they went to Coney Island for his 16th birthday, and a picture of them in their cap and gowns on graduation day. None of them were hung up. There was no evidence she even existed here.

"I can explain.." Chris began, his left squinting. It was a quirk of his, he had it since he was a kid. His left eye would always squint when he was nervous. She noticed it for the first time when he asked her out on their first date. It wasn't as endearing now as it was back then.

"No need to explain anything, I can put the pieces together myself!" The redhead shouted at him. She turned to Y/N, the furious look on her face warped into one of pity. "I promise I had no idea he had a girlfriend. I never would have slept with him otherwise, I'm not a home wrecker." Her bright green eyes never broke contact with Y/N's, and she believed her. Y/N nodded to the redhead, and turned her attention to Chris.

"I wanted to surprise you, for the new year. I drove 11 hours and 37 minutes to get here... To tell you that I transferred to Hawkins University, so we could be closer together. To tell you that I hated being long distance... and that I didn't want you to give up your football scholarship to be with me in New York. So I came here." Y/N was surprised she didn't cry in that moment. She usually cries at everything. She just felt numb, cold, like the bitter winter of Indiana.

Chris didn't say anything. Not a word. He just sat there and stared at her with that stupid deer in headlights look. No apology, no begging for forgiveness, nothing. Y/N's right hand was still on the door knob, she finally noticed a white sock hanging there. If only she paid closer attention, maybe she would have been spared the sight of Chris's infidelity.

"Come on honey, let's go." The redhead gently grabbed Y/N's hand off the door knob and held it, leading her outside the room. She walked her towards the elevator doors, easily bypassing the drunk kids crowding the halls. When she clicked the button to open the elevator that's when Y/N heard Chris shouting her name.

Both of the girls ignored him as they walked into the elevator, and as the doors began to close Y/N finally looked up to see Chris standing in his boxers a few feet away.

"Y/N! I-" The doors shut, drowning out what he was about to say.

New years day is typically a time for relaxation. People stay home with their families, enjoying the holiday time off, excited to not have to be in the office working their 9-5s. But that wasn't the case for everyone. Family Video was open, bright neon sign hanging in the window, cutting through the dull gray fog that was outside of the door.

"I can't believe Keith made us work on New Years, no one is even here!" Robin complained. Both her and Steve got stuck opening and closing during the holiday. Keith insisted that since people were home, they'd want to rent movies. Clearly he was wrong, because it's been dead all day.

"At least it's not a full day, we got to sleep in till noon." Steve replied, tossing a ball of rubber bands in the air and catching it again. Robin groaned for the upteenth time this afternoon. She was laying on the floor between the isles of Horror and Thriller movies to Steve's left. The place she's occupied for the past two hours.

"I'm so booooored" Steve rolled his eyes, fed up with Robin's constant complaining. She said it as if she was the only one who didn't want to be there. Steve would have rather been anywhere else than Family Video at that moment. He could be sitting on his couch alone, a six pack and Miss. December waiting for him. His parents were out of town, again, this time on vacation in the Bahamas. They neglected to include Steve in their holiday planning, insisting that he pay for his own ticket and hotels if he wanted to go so bad. As if he could drop a couple grand on a tropical vacation on his minimum wage salary.

"Find something to occupy yourself with, I'm pretty sure there are still some tapes that need rewinding in the back. You know, actually do your job." Robin sat up, an unamused expression on her face.

"Says the guy who's been tossing that rubber band ball in the air for the past 45 minutes." She shot back. Steve through the ball at her, deliberately missing her head by a couple inches. "Hey!"

"I'm not the one complaining I'm bored." Great, now his ball was gone. He could either get up from his cozy spot on top of the front desk counter and grab it, or stay here and find something else to occupy his time with. Decisions, decisions...

"Fine. I'll go rewind all of 9 VHS tapes in the back." Robin slowly dragged her feet to the Employee's Only door, nearly knocking over the candy shelf on her way there.

"Be careful! I just stacked those!" He yelled at Robin's back as she closed the door behind her, ignoring his pestering. Steve groaned, finally deciding to jump off his perch to search for his beloved rubber ball. Before he could take another step, the front door began to chime. Finally, a customer.

"Welcome to Family Video, my name is Steve. How can I help you today?" He didn't get a good look at the customer when they first walked in, but at second glance Steve saw a girl he's never met before. Although Hawkins was technically a city, it didn't feel very big, and through the years he's lived here Steve knew pretty much everyone. This girl looked around his age, they would've gone to high school together. Steve racked his brain but couldn't place her, so she must have recently moved here.

"Yea, I ugh.. I've never been here before. I don't know where anything is." Her voice was hoarse, as if she was getting over a cold, but she didn't look sick. She looked sad. Her eyes were puffy, lashes wet as if she was just crying, lips raw and chapped from being bitten too much. She looked like she'd been through the ringer, and Steve couldn't help but feel bad for her.

"Well I can fix that. Horror, thriller, and action movies are to your right, comedies, drama, and romances to your left. Anything you're looking for in particular?" A self depreciating laugh left her lips.

"Definitely not romance." She replied, shaking her head like she was personally offended at the genre. Steve was curious about her. What was she doing in the Hawkins Family Video on New Years Day? Where was she from? He couldn't place her accent, it was definitely not how the girls of Hawkins sounded. He also wanted to know why she looked so upset. Steve has always been too nosy, it's gotten him in a lot trouble, especially in recent years.

"Ooh that sounded personal, you have beef with romance or something?" Steve asked, now desperate to know more about her. The girl laughed again, a little more genuine and a little less sad.

"No, I used to love romance, I used to love love actually. Recently, not so much... but you probably don't want to hear about some strange girl's problems." She sighed, slowly making her way to the horror section. Steve followed, he didn't want the conversation to end just yet.

"Well lucky for you, I just so happen to be a master of strange things, so.. if you want to talk I can listen. You're the first person to come in all day, you'd be saving me from the endless suffering that is menial labor." That got a real laugh out of her.

"If you're sure..."

"Totally." Steve sat on the ground, patting the spot next time. The girl followed, unzipping her thick parka to get more comfortable. "I'm all ears."

"Well, it started when I decided to uproot my life to surprise my boyfriend..."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanficton #stranger things fanfic #stranger things steve #stranger things steve harrington

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surftrips · 3 years ago

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wish you were sober

pairing: jay halstead x gn!reader

song: wish you were sober by conan gray

word count: 658

author’s note: i’ve been wanting to write a fic to this song for a while now because i love angst and this is where i got. please leave some love on this post ❣️

You've known Jay since you two were kids. Grew up right across the street from each other. You lost contact with him when he left for the Rangers, but upon his return to Chicago, ended up reconnecting with him at a party.

At first, it was fun going out with him. He was wild. Downing cups of beer, trading drinks with strangers, flirting with anyone in sight.

But after a while, you found yourself searching for exits and excuses to leave early. Jay was in his 20s, yet he was acting like you guys were 19 again. You enjoyed a night out every once in a while, but the people Jay was hanging out with were definitely not your crowd.

As much as you tried to ignore it, you knew that he was hurting. His time in the Rangers had messed him up and it hurt you knowing that you couldn't do anything to help. But he was so far gone most nights, you didn't see any point in trying to get him to open up to you.

Besides, you were probably the last person he'd want to be vulnerable with. You and him had a brief fling in high school, but you were going to college and he was joining the army, and things weren't great at home for him, and just about a million other things preventing you two from being together.

So even though he wasn't your responsibility, you couldn't help but feel an obligation to watch over him. You always hated how you two left things off when he went overseas, and you could tell that he needed you now more than ever.

"Come on, how many drinks have you had?" You asked him one night.

"What does it matter? Another one won't hurt."

"Please don't drink more beer..." you wanted to say, but instead gently pulled him out of the bar and to your car.

As you put Jay into the front seat of your Rover, he leaned over and kissed you on the cheek.

"Real sweet, Jay. Let's see if you remember this in the morning."

When he got drunk, he was overly nice to you. It made you reminiscent of your teenage years... but you couldn't allow yourself to return his affection because once he got sober, he was an entirely different person.

You had visited him once at the police district after he had a particularly long night, and was met with a cold stare as he pretended he didn't know you in front of his coworkers.

It wasn't like you were airing out his dirty laundry to the entire district, you were just there to see if he was managing his hangover and to drop off some lunch.

Now, the ten minute drive to his apartment was silent.

With Jay leaning onto your body, you pulled him out of the car and into the elevator up to his apartment. At his front door, he leaned in to kiss you on your forehead this time.

"You should stay over tonight," he slurred.

"You've had too much to drink, let's get you to bed," you responded firmly.

After pulling the blanket over his body and turning around to leave, he blurted out, "Y/N, why are you so nice to me when I'm nothing but an ass to you?"

You sighed. It was much too late to have this conversation, and at this point, you were more mad at him than anything. The fact that he was only nice to you when he was drunk, refusing to acknowledge he had any problems, constantly pushing you away when you just wanted to help... the list went on.

You could have said a million things but you knew that he would just forget them by the morning, so all you said was "Shhh... it's late. We can talk tomorrow," but all you could think was “God, I wish you were sober.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd fic #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead imagine #jesse lee soffer

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en-hale-archives · 3 years ago

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Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

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(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

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qyllenhaal · 4 years ago

Text

American Pie

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: The Summer heat gets to everyone, including Sheriff Lee Bodecker who is looking to stir up with his favorite girl.

Warnings: 18+ only!!! DubCon (!!!), Dark themes, age gap (reader is early 20s), infidelity, alcohol abuse, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, spanking.

A/N: I didn’t expect to finish this in one night, but I did! I may have missed a few things to include in the warnings but I believe I got all the major ones. Enjoy!

Hot weather makes people feel more rowdy, like they can do anything just because the temperature is rising and the sun is out for longer. When the number of troublemakers at the bar goes up, so does the number of visits from the police.

Someone was always anonymously calling the police because someone at Tecumseh Lounge was stirring up some shit. They rarely came and when they did they did nothing. The deputy they dispatched would just write down a few things in a notepad and leave. No one ever truly got in trouble and that's because the Sheriff is rumored to be "in'' with the owner.

The rumors are true but the nice ladies and gentlemen from the nicer parts of the county will never see it for themselves. Tecumseh is rough, and nasty. There were more vices here than just alcohol, and most of it was done under the table.

Y/n was crazy to take this job as a bartender at Tecumseh. She didn't know that a hidden prospective for the job was fucking the patrons. One of the other girls working here did it, and so did Sandy despite her brother being the sheriff. Y/n was not interested in the advances pressed on her by the men. They were either married or been fucking "ladies of the night" for years and probably have something. No one who frequented a place like Tecumseh wasn't someone Y/n wanted to go home with. Yet she let Sandy's brother talk to her in any kind of way.

For someone who was the sheriff, Lee Bodecker was here a lot and it wasn't because the drinks were good. Sometimes his sister served him while he interrogated her about her husband Carl. Y/n had seen Carl a few times and she found him to be sleazy. Poor Sandy was stuck working behind the bar while Carl flirted with a younger girl just a few feet away from her. But Sandy would also take some patrons out to the back and get fucked when her shift ended. It seems like an even deal, but the difference is Carl looks happy doing it and Sandy always comes back looking a mess, and not in a good way.

Y/n has been applying for a waitressing job closer to her house. She wants out of this place yet whenever she says Tecumseh is her current place of work, her application gets thrown out. Her aunt got her the job and she wished to god that woman never did. She should've gone and worked at someone's farm doing hard labor instead of accepting the offer to work. She was talked to like she was a whore and there was nothing to do about it because her boss did the same thing.

Friday night shifts are the hardest for her. The men drink harder because they don't work weekends. The influence of alcohol made them relentless when talking to Y/n. They made what they believed were compliments about her body and proclaimed how they wanted to fuck her. She just had to press a smile because the more they found her fuckable the more they tipped her. The low-cut top she wore was not coincidental. While she didn't fuck patrons for 20 dollars, she did put out for their attention.

Not even 30 minutes before her shift and a fight breaks out. She has to call the police because the fight between two men turned into a fight of three, four, and then five. No one looked interested in breaking up the fight, just watching with glib smiles and jovial laughs. This was the kind of entertainment they came for, but it was a pain to deal with as a barmaid.

Police sirens and the lights made some patrons, including two of the people involved in the fight, went running out through another exit. Their fears were pointless since it was rare for anyone to get arrested here.

"Alright break it up," Deputy Brooks' voice boomed.

Whenever an officer was called to come down to Tecumseh Lounge, it was only three policemen who showed up: Deputy Brooks, Deputy McConnell, and the sheriff. They must've worked out some kind of deal with her boss because they come in, don't do shit about the reason they were called for, and they never failed to ask for a drink before leaving. Tonight is no different; they just break up the fight and tell the men to leave but they never force perpetrators to leave.

The fight dissipated a few minutes after the deputies showed up and the patrons grumbled because the fun was over. The two deputies looked around the place to give off the appearance of holding authority then they made their way over to the bar.

"One of your coldest beers," Deputy Brooks didn't greet Y/n nor was he polite. He just demanded what he wanted.

"No free drinks." She tries to keep her tone of voice strong. She is not afraid of these two men who only feel powerful because they have a badge on them. Deputy McConnell was only a few years older than her and she remembers when he was a scrawny kid who got picked on even as a senior in high school.

"We just broke up a fight at your fine establishment. The least you can do is give us a beer," Brooks rebuttal.

There was no arguing so Y/n sighed and went to grab two beers for the men so they could just get out of her sight.

"I need two beers. Not just one," McConnell interjected. Y/n didn't like how they drank on the job, especially since they were going to be driving so late at night.

But Y/n obliges just to get them out of her face. She hates the smug look on Deputy Brooks face as he grabs his beer and walks out with the other deputy behind him.

The rest of the night is Jenny's problem because Y/n was clocking out immediately. She smelled like cigarettes and just wanted to wash the layer of sweat off of her body. All the money her boss accrues from shady dealings, he was too cheap to install an air conditioner. People get angry and agitated when it's so hot out. Even at night the air feels sticky and falls just to the low 80s.

She headed out the back to avoid the incoming patrons. She is fair game to some people now that she is single.

Out back she can hear three unmistakable voices. Deputy Brooks and McConnell were standing by their car that was parked right next to the nice, clean sheriff's car. Y/n is not in the mood to deal with the two dickheads and their boss sheriff dickhead, but she knows they are going to say something to her as she walks back.

"Well if it isn't my pretty, pretty Cherry."

Lee Bodecker's voice punctuated the night air, making even the humid atmosphere feel cold.

Y/n stops in her tracks, knowing that she cannot avoid this without causing trouble for herself.

"Don't call me that."

"You sure like the name last week when I had my head between those thighs. 'Lee...oh Lee!" He imitated her voice which made his deputies laugh. Lee has a beer in his hand, reminding Y/n that McConnell asked for two back at the bar. She should've known it was for Lee.

She was embarrassed by him talking about their time together in front of his subordinates. Lee is married and Y/n is turned off by men with gold bands on their ring finger who try to take her home after her shift ends. However they have fucked on multiple occasions, making him the only patron she has given into. He was mean, but authoritative. Y/n couldn't help herself and she sometimes let the sheriff rough her up in the back of his car.

"I'm only messing with you sweetheart. You don't gotta stand there lookin like you saw a ghost."

Y/n feels humiliated but Lee doesn't seem to care. Lee gets off on seeing her squirm, on seeing her be degraded. She's not a whore like the other woman who works here and his sister, but he fucks her like she is. He has something many of the men inside the dingy joint wanted. Y/n isn't easy, which rare for a female Tecumseh worker.

"I'm just wonderin if you seen my Sandy," he made an attempt to change the subject.

"She's your sister Lee."

The truth is Y/n hasn't seen Sandy in a week. She said something about her and Carl taking a trip but she didn't say for how long. Y/n is not too fond of Sandy to pry into her life. She feels bad for her though. She always comes into work with dingy hair and not to mention the amount of weight she has lost which makes her face look gaunt.

"You better address me as ‘sheriff’ girl. You have no manners. You weren't even going to say hello to the men who keep you safe."

Lee did nothing to make her feel safe. He made Y/n feel on edge when he was around but downright euphoric when she was in the throes of passing in the back of his car. He was just using her to get his rocks off and he only went after her because he wanted someone "fresh" for him. He doesn't respect her or care for her.

"Shouldn't you three be patrolling? Looking for crime?"

"Don't catch an attitude, Y/n. It's none of your business what we do. Besides, all the crime is in that building you just came out of."

"You guys never do shit. All you do sheriff is come and collect money from Leroy-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Y/n is not sure why she's still here trying to bump heads with him. She will never win, especially when he is the authority around here. No one challenged Lee because they were scared to death of him. He's a shady sheriff but he's feared.

"I'm leaving," Y/n sighed. She tried to walk away but Lee stood up from leaning on his car and grabbed her arm

"Uh-uh," he shook his head at her as the grip on her arm tightened. She looked up at him with fear in her arms and he felt his cock getting hard "You don't get to leave until I tell you too. I think you owe me for last week anyway, cherry."

"Please...just let me go," she tried to plead. She tried to plea to the man who she's been fucking, hoping that his attachment to her would make him be kinder to her.

"You need your ass to be put in place. I thought I did that a few weeks ago when I spanked your ass until you cried, but you're still as defiant as ever. You'll never fucking learn."

Lee dragged her back to his car and bent her over the hood. He placed her arms behind her back and cuffed her. He wasn't going to arrest her but making her believe he was sure was fun to him.

She can see both of the deputies watching her. Her face was planted against the top of his car as he held her down. Lee pulls her dress over her ass and she feels so exposed.

"Those panties look damp to me. What do y'all think?"

Y/n hears the deputies chattering lowly amongst themselves, probably afraid to say something obscene about the woman the sheriff is hooking up with.

"How many men seen you like this before? Who you let fuck you today?"

"No one sheriff."

"That's right. That pussy is mine."

His rough hand caresses her ass. He wants to spank her for talking back to him in front of the two younger officers. She was trying to embarrass him which called for a punishment.

"You better count 'em or I'll start over."

Y/n just groaned in anticipation of the first blow to her ass. She hates how Lee takes his time and she wishes he would just get it over with. Her heart is racing as Lee gets a firm grip on her hair.

"Bad little girls get their asses spanked. Don't think just because you're not peddling your cunt that you're not a whore," he threatened with anger.

Her panties were ripped off with rage and she was truly exposed. The warm, summer breeze ghosted across her cunt but it made her shiver. She can already feel the heaviness of her hand on her ass before it even comes down. The first smack was so loud that it pierced the dark night's air. Her cry was even louder.

"One," she says breathlessly. Her eyes close so she doesn't have to look at the two men staring at her with wide eyes and tents in their pants.

Lee believes pain is the best discipline for a girl like Y/n. He would never do this to his wife, but he also doesn't fuck his wife like he fucks Y/n. She was a tough thing to crack but she rides him into the night until his car is shaking and he's cumming into a condom.

"You can count louder than that, cherry."

He was mocking her only because they had an audience. The belittling and having her body exposed was humiliating. But that first slap of her ass sent all the blood in her body rushing to pussy.

Lee smacked her ass again and again and each time she pathetically sobbed out the number of hits her ass has received so far. Her skin felt hot and it wasn't because of the temperature. She wanted to cry so bad but she kept it. She has never cried in front of Lee and she isn't going to start now; no matter how painful his brutality is.

"Look how fucking wet she is from getting her ass whooped."

Y/n heard the shuffling of the deputies and there was not doubt they were looking at her glistening sex. She felt like she was dripping and she wanted to press her thighs together so bad to hide herself. That would only make things worse for her and the last thing she needs is a harsher punishment.

"Learned your lesson, cherry?"

She nods, her eyes still closed.

"Good girl."

The sound of Lee's belt coming undone makes her stick her ass higher into the air. She's been trained like a dog who wants a treat to behave this way. A sense of shame consumes her as she acts so shamelessly.

"My good little bitch," he coos. He pulls himself out and lines up the head with her wet slit. "I don't have a condom on me sweetheart. I finally get to feel that pussy of yours."

He was lying. He always kept a pack of condoms in the glove compartment of his patrol car because he couldn't bring them into his home. Plus having them in there would always leave him ready to fuck Y/n. He did not like the feeling of condoms but he can't knock her up when next year is an election year. Having a bastard child with a barmaid from Tecumseh would fuck everything up and send his efforts down the drain.

"Lee no! You have to use a condom."

"I don't have to do anything."

She's stupid to think he would listen to her. She is completely powerless and can only operate to his whims.

"Then please pull out...please," she whispers in defeat. The laugh he lets out tells her that she doesn't get a say in this at all.

Lee pushes on her back with one hand and the other is holding onto her hip. He finally sinks into her and he is in paradise.

"You expect me to pull out when your cunt is this warm and tight? No fucking chance darlin'"

He starts to fuck into her, each thrust earning him a pathetic moan. She feels so good wrapped around him and he vows to never wear condoms with her again. She's the tightest thing he's had in years and he has to go slowly to brace himself or else he is gonna cum. This position gave him so much access to her cunt and he pushed in as deep as he could. His bare head was kissing her cervix over and over again. His thighs slapped against her bare ass and the noise reverberated into the night.

The deputies just stood there; eyes wide with shock but lust filling their veins. They never took Lee as a cheater yet he fucked Y/n he knew her body so well.

Tears slip down her face, but they aren't from sadness or anger. She's overwhelmed by the pleasure Lee is giving her that she can almost forget that they have an audience.

Lee lifted her head off of the hood of the car. She could see them in the reflection. She looked a mess while Lee looked like he was in heaven in her bare cunt.

"You wanna tell them how you never had a man in your ass until I fucked you? Begged for it like a whore?"

His voice has some much grit in it and Y/n wondered where this new fire in him came from. Lee was rough with her but never has he pounded into her like she was just a toy. Most would be surprised to know that Lee can be a gentle lover that had a primal urge to be inside of Y/n. She wondered if he was like that with his wife, but according to him she was just a "wet blanket." Y/n does not know whether or not to believe him because it's not uncommon for men to disparage their wives to women they're having sex with on the side.

"Gonna cum Lee," she cried.

He felt her tighten around him and he was about to cum too. He was going to cum inside of her.

"Show 'em how you cum for me. Let 'em see that pretty face of yours."

Lee pounded into her until she was crying out. Her orgasm wrecked her body and the only thing on her mind was Lee and his cock. If she was asked to speak right now it would just be babble. He fucked her stupid and he's not going to stop until he spills inside of her.

A few more hard, rough thrusts and Y/n feels Lee spill inside of her. She sighs at the blissful sensation. His grip on her loosens, a symptom of the exhaustion that starts to set in. His cock begins to soften inside of her but the two of them are still panting from what they just did.

"Go on. Go home," he slaps her ass one last time just to tease her. His eyes are trained on the sight of his cum oozing out of her and he never wants to look at anything else. But he has a shift to get back to

Y/n reluctantly stands up, her dress falling over her ass to cover her up. She can feel his cum running down her thigh but she's too embarrassed to clean herself up in front of these mean. She accidentally catches Deputy McConnell's eyes before she scurries off to her car. She hears a laugh and then a few more joining in. She's sure Lee is bragging to them about her always being willing to fuck him. She just hopes he doesn't tell them everything they have done together.

Lee had been silent for more than a week now. No calls, no visits to the bar, and even his patrol car hadn't ridden down her street. Y/n felt insecure about his absence; like he thought she was an easy slut like the rest of the barmaids. He knows she isn't willing to fuck anybody, but she was not sure if he believed her when she said it.

The days moved so slowly as she watched the door hoping he would come in one late night. She even hoped for a fight but suddenly no one had the energy anymore for a melee.

Y/n was working a late shift tonight. She'd cover the bar from 12 until last call. It was her day off but she had to fill in for some girl at the last minute. If it had been the weekend she would've said no, but it's a Tuesday night which means it would be an easy night of minimal work.

Y/n was wiping down glasses not five minutes after she clocked in and she heard the shrill voice of her co-worker Sydney.

"I'm not dealing with him. Last time I tried to cut him off he threatened to arrest me! I don't know where Sandy is but she needs to be the one here to deal with her brother."

Y/n's ears perked up. She didn't notice Lee in the room when she walked in. The room was dim and it was not always easy to make out customers, especially if they were far away.

"What's going on?"

Y/n walked over to where Cindy's voice was coming from and she was talking to their boss Leroy.

"Sheriff is drunk off his ass and I'm supposed to deal with him. My shift ended five minutes ago and once I'm off the clock then anything that happens in this place is none of my concern!" She said with contempt.

"You work for me. You don't get to decide what you will and will not do at my bar!"

As much as Y/n wanted to avoid a tiff between her co-worker and boss, she wanted to talk to Lee even more.

"I'll take care of it."

Leroy didn't care either way. As long as he didn't have to deal with Lee who was pissed off at him about something. Lee often complained that her boss was a "useless fucker." Leroy walked away from the two and Cindy gave Y/n a small smile.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow Cindy," Y/n called to the blonde who was already peeling out of the place. She doesn't think Cindy likes her all that much but she was at least courteous to Y/n.

The bar was dead enough for Y/n's other co-worker to cover while she went to deal with Lee.

He was at a table in one of the corners of the bar; slumped over in his chair and too intoxicated to speak in complete sentences. There was no way he could properly function or drive home. She had a choice to make whether to leave Lee like this or take him home. She had just gotten to work, but the night was nothing that her co-worker couldn't handle. If Leroy threw a fit and tried to fire her she could just get Lee to threaten him.

He was so heavy as he leaned on her to walk to her car. Y/n loathes this man yet she does so many caring things for him that it makes her stomach hurt. She gets nothing out of this exchange yet she continues to go back with him.

She placed him in the passenger seat of her car and he just mumbled to himself the entire ride to her apartment. She was thankful to be on the first floor because it would be a hazard to try to get Lee to walk up some stairs like this. She helped him sit on her raggedy couch. He looked like he was going to vomit.

"How many drinks did you have?" She began her interrogation on him, but she doubts she will get a coherent answer tonight.

"Just one."

As he spoke he reached into his pocket to show her the "one" bottle that he drank from tonight. A few candy wrappers fell out of his pocket when he pulled the bottle out. They were jolly ranchers wrappers which was the kind she bought to share with him.

"What happened? Why did you get so fucked up? I need to get you home Lee."

Y/n was in panic mode. There was no way she could take Lee home but she didn't know how to deal with him like this. He had been tipsy around her before, sure, but she has never seen him this drunk.

"No, no...don't wanna go back. Just let me sleep it off," he slurred. He haphazardly kicked his shoes off and pulled his jacket off so he could get comfortable on her couch. He's going to wake up with a sore back if he sleeps on that thing.

"You can't get drunk like this ever again. And you also can't stay the night here ever again. Your wife is going to find out one day

He just groaned and turned away from her on the couch. She just sighed in defeat. She will deal with him in the morning.

She feels the bed around 3 am. She could not sleep after leaving Lee in a state like that on her couch and she has been up ever since. Y/n was so tired but her body was not agreeing with sleep at the moment. Heavy arms wrapped around her as she held her breath.

"You smell so good, Florence. Just like roses."

"Lee, it's me." She waited for him to respond, afraid that he would get upset or angry with her for no good reason. Her ego was a little hurt after he mistook her for his wife.

"I'm just jokin' with you cherry." Even though he was suffering from a hangover, he still has the capacity to tease her.

Y/n turned around to face him but he had his eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. She can't deny how handsome he looks, especially with his full cheeks.

"Why did you get that drunk last night?"

"I'm a grown man."

"You weren't acting like it last night. You were like a defiant child," her voice began to rise in volume and Lee winced.

"Don't yell, please. You can be mad at me all you want but please don't yell. I've got a headache that's going to last for days."

"It's what you deserve."

Lee finally opened his eyes just so he could see that pouty look on her face. Y/n called him a defiant child, but she was one to talk. She was always acting like a brat around him.

"You don't mean that girl. If you did, you would've left me at Tecumseh. You care about me."

"Lee-"

"Just admit it. You care."

"Lee, you are married."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

This was the uncomfortable conversation Y/n wanted to have. It was always shot down by Lee. He had no problem fucking her, but talking about where they stand or his cheating was always a problem.

"Cherry, I wish you'd just let things be as they are. Wish you would always be a good girl like you are in the back of my cruiser."

"I don't want to be your mistress Lee. If we keep doing this then we're going to get caught and your wife will leave you. Then what?"

"I'll move you in and put a ringer on your finger. Maybe give you a few kids too," he chuckled.

Y/n couldn't bring herself to find joy in his comments. She has some underlying feelings for him and he's right, she does care. But her conscience can't stop thinking about the fact that he has a wife. The only time she forgets is when his dick is inside of her.

"I'm a whore, remember?"

"Just because I fucked you like one in front of my deputies doesn't mean you are one," his hand rested on her hot cheek and he stroked it with his thumb, "you're my cherry girl. The only person I love being inside of. You act like you hate me but you're always wet for me; I bet you're wet right now. I love what we have and I don't want it to end."

She has no more to say to him. She just sighs and closes her eyes. Lee can practically see the wheels turning in her head. While he saw this as a very simple situation, she viewed it as more complex and always seemed to look for ways to make it complicated for the two to just enjoy it for what it is. Y/n is young and Lee is sure she is not ready to settle down yet. They're just having some fun. And if they do in fact get caught and his wife leaves him, then his cherry would make one hell of a wife.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x ofc #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #Sebastian Stan #lee bodecker fic #The Devil All The Time #Dark Fic

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larentsaloud · 3 years ago

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tigers in meteor garden

episode 11 thoughts

ok so I needed to get that out of my system, now I am ready to plunge. the episode opens as per usual, with the viewer being pulled towards the antagonist and they have done a good job at dragging us through hell to visit this place where talay and phuppa first met.

f4 has done it before, with lita for example, where they take us to the 'other side' to help us see things form another perspective. I for one did not wish to be taken to the anti f4 movement and have any empathy for anyone at this point, I think my emotional deadness never ceases to amaze me. maybe it's because I was so invested into the whole thyme x gorya dynamic I forgot thyme and f4 messed up a LOT of people. but thank goodness we were reminded that thyme was a twatnoodle, because it provided us with comparison on his growth.

anygays, talay's boo was bullied in episode 1 back when thyme was reigning the school with an iron fist. everyone figured at this point.

I was not expecting an almost twenty minute flashback to the past with vintage orange filter, but having had the time to think about it and now that my outrage has cooled I am semi-prepared to concede to the director's vision.

the similarities between the characters, such as talay and phuppa looking out for each other, willingly getting hurt to protect the other and their sweet perhaps queer coded relationship? idk? was a good parallel to thyme and gorya.

just from a simple observation you can tell t + p dynamic of bickering, compliments drowned in shyness and the overwhelming and tangible chemistry between the characters that they had something brewing.

I was mildly annoyed that I had to digest their story in order to get to the 'chair' part and the 'hospital' part, but actually I can see the value in the investment. talay, in his avenge against thyme becomes like thyme.

it is the age old, is everything fair in love and war question. I was thinking about this a lot, and to me, love and war have always been siblings, sisters perhaps. why? because the world depends on their existence. for different reasons. like we need love to stay alive, to grow etc and war is what the powerful use to repress development.

so talay catches thyme's weak spot in the war, gorya. and isn't it always the innocent who get hurt?

yet, she appeals to his humanity, to the side of him she has gotten to know, the caring side (gorya you are alone with this one, bestie I saw no humanity on him, nor did I see him as a good person. I guess the hot boi redemption arc is already occupied) and despite his efforts to brush her off, it is obvious he doesn't want her getting hurt and objects to her being roughed up by one off his disciples.

albeit a little late since they had all beaten her up at school? this is where I struggled to comprehend talay's logic, on one hand he despises thyme's violence; on the other he is using HIS methods.

like I said, do the means justify the end?

I could perhaps turn this around and write a long essay on the patriarchy, class system, social injustice, oppression of minorities...

and maybe we should, because while this is disguised as a love story, aren't most authors and artists trying to convey a moral lesson at the end of it?

thyme begs for forgiveness, going back to his last transgression, and is prepared to face the consequences. or so he thinks, although I cannot imagine my sweetheart thyme coping with correction facilities. tiger is the new black? I would watch it.

back to our couple.

kavin asks the million dollar question after they discuss the trap set up by talay.

you'll just go to gorya no matter what, right? yes because that girl officially owns his heart and soul.

and it's same for gorya, regardless of how hard she convinces herself, that she doesn't love him, at the end of the day she will go back to thyme and protect him. even if she had been the one to cast him out.

some people are wired like that, and gorya has been protecting everyone for so long, that this is her default. the hardest thing for her is to allow thyme to be the one to protect her. when he is laying on the ground and allows himself to be beaten up, she asks why isn't he fighting and he says the most important lesson he has learned.

silly girl, if I fight back, I'll lose.

thyme knows you can't end violence with violence.

eye for eye and now we are all blind.

but if silence is a form of violence too, then what measures are at thyme's disposal to fight back? or for that matter anyone who is trying to get justice? if I figure this out, I'll let you know.

it takes another prank to get gorya to confess to thyme, which is exactly what ren did to thyme few episodes back. I think for both of them, being vulnerable makes them uncomfortable. you can see it in the way that gorya starts a single handed pillow fight after telling them she loves him. but thyme has advanced here, and gorya is still learning. thyme is at his happiest, blissfully soaking up the words that the owner of his h&s loves him back.

I think the series portray unrequited love well. and there is a lot unrequited love in f4 / hana yori dango!

the scene back at his house.

I think my favourite moment was thyme stopping himself from covering gorya's mouth when she got too loud, because he has learnt the meaning of consent and he doesn't even dare to touch his queen, not even playfully. I think it's a mixture of shyness and restraint. it's cute and resonated with me a lot.

the awe mixed with happiness and contentment that was oozing out of both of them was extraordinary as they sat on the sofa. the romance was charged so much energy I could have screamed. pretty sure they could have kept half of this country on solar power from their exchanged smiles.

also, something very poignant in the way gorya's name appears onto necklace first. and when she smiles and promises to be there for him. it's utterly stunning turn around for them. the enemies to lovers trope truly being done justice here.

as for the moral and ethical problem of f4. I have said it before, they urgently needed a new CEO and revamp their methods. gorya has shook them up and changed them, but ultimately they did the leg work themselves.

my only concern is the slightly unrealistic backing down of talay, who would most likely still be reeling watching struggle so much doubt very much he would lay down his guns, merely because thyme begged and apologised.

having said that.

the power of forgiveness lies in acceptance. and it's not that when you forgive you accept the wrongdoing, but accepting the situation and choosing to move on, to be free from is why forgiveness is so powerful.

once you stop being the victim, you can rise above the injustice in other ways. or so I am told.

look this is turning super philosophical but this is what happens when you trigger my weakness! you should have given me thyme and gorya kisses and then I would not have to go all 'I hate capitalism, but also there isn't any other utopia available to which I woful subscribe'.

so there.

sorry this is a mess. I hope we get those kisses soon as I am inches away from suing f4 thailand and sending them my therapy bill.

this weeks highlights

analysis of thyme’s 🐯 pyjama x

analysis of Thyme's apology x

analysis of f4 characters x BDSM spectrum x

#f4 thailand boys over flowers #f4 thailand #f4 #thyme x gorya #tu tontawan #bright vachirawit #episode 11 spoilers #episode 11 summary #analysis #this week's pinned post I guess

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iid-smile · 4 months ago

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can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes

author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...

"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"

another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."

your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.

"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.

"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."

"don't tell me what to do."

wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.

he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"

ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.

that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?

he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"

"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.

yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."

the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...

"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."

"is this my fault?"

"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."

it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.

you can feel your phone buzzing again.

"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.

you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.

begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.

the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"

"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"

"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."

obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."

"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.

cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.

but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"

"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.

damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."

"thank you—!" you cut off the line.

"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.

you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!

you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

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Vino

Day 25, Post #1 by @thedistantdusk

Title: Vino Author/Artist: TheDistantDusk Pairing: Harry/Ginny Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: E (to be safe) for smutty references. Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Drinking (everyone of legal age). Frank discussion of sex acts.

They started drinking at 1 PM.

It seemed the best way to spend the day together before the Hogsmeade day — not weekend, much to Harry’s disappointment— reached its untimely conclusion. He had to cancel the upstairs room he rented for them, too, which he’s still not chuffed about, and not just because they’d definitely have shagged.

Because with Ginny, It’s more than just physical. It’s always been more than just physical. He misses her… deeply, hollowly misses her. It’s a constant ache in the pit of his stomach, like there’s always part of him that’s somewhere else. They had to settle for a heated snog behind the Three Broomsticks before heading in to escape the cold, but that hadn’t been enough. For either of them.

Of course, on the surface he pretended to understand the sudden change of events. It’s a particularly cold February, so cold that McGonagall was close to canceling the Hogsmeade visit altogether. According to Ginny, she only settled for an early dismissal instead when the student body threatened to mutiny. So Ginny’s due back at 6 now, which truly is shit, but anything is better than not seeing her at all.

Harry blinks at his beautiful girlfriend across the table and wonders why she’s been withdrawn today. Distant. At first, he chalked this up to school stress. After all, she is quidditch captain. He knows firsthand how stressful that can be— and while he’d held the captaincy, NEWTS hadn’t even been on the horizon yet. He also hadn’t dealt with a castle full of ghosts and sadness and distorted memories.

After the drinks started flowing, though, it became clear that school stress wasn’t the issue. Or at least not the biggest one. When she finished her first pint, she started sending him these fleeting looks of puzzlement in between updating him on the Hogwarts gossip. Her second and third pints brought even greater looks of scrutiny. Now that she’s midway through her fourth pint, she’s full-on staring at him. For the past twenty minutes, he’s felt a bit like an animal in a zoo. Harry hasn’t known what to do about that, really. As much as he loves her, Ginny’s not known for her subtlety. Or patience. She’s always come outright with any concerns or problems, always addressed them head-on. So this constant look of confusion has been… well, confusing. Harry handled the last twenty minutes the best way he knows how: drinking more, holding her hand across the table, and waiting for her to take the lead. He offers a tiny smile and reaches for his pint. He’s content to wait as long as she needs, for whatever she needs. As it turns out, though, he decides to take a drink at the worst possible moment. Had he been looking, he would’ve seen her cock her head and open her mouth as she reached some sort of internal breaking point. Unfortunately, he just brings his pint glass to his lips instead. So for better or worse, all he hears is the question itself. “Why do you go down on me so much?” Harry immediately chokes on his beer. It splatters down his front, coating the table in amber specks. He apologizes through a cough and grapples with a napkin, but Ginny remains unfazed. “I… erm.” He coughs again, shaking his head. “Sorry. Wasn't expecting—” “And I’m not complaining,” she says quickly, resting her chin on her palm. “I mean, obviously.” Oh? He relishes the blush that creeps up her neck. “Then what are—” “It’s just…” She sighs, peering down at her pint glass. “I’ve spoken to Luna about it, and as much as she—"

“You’ve… you’ve spoken to Luna about this?” he asks weakly, head spinning. “Who else—?”

Ginny plows on as if she hasn’t heard him. “I just figured, I guess, that when we properly started shagging you’d do it less. But you erm… haven’t. So.”

There’s a pause as the blush from before creeps over her entire face.

Harry takes another cautious sip of his pint as a raucous peal of laughter erupts behind him. A firm reminder that they’re very much in public. He squints at the woodgrain on the table. Why is that turning him on even more?

“Erm… what exactly do you want to know?” he asks after a minute, surprised at how graveled his voice sounds.

Ginny sighs, still holding her face in her hands. “Just that, really,” she murmurs, tongue coming out to wet her lips. Fuck. He grips his glass even tighter. “I just… I want to know. Why do you do it so much?”

“Erm…” Harry winces. He realizes he’s been saying that a lot.

Ginny’s hand comes up to rest on his, and it’s only when she speaks again that he realizes how drunk she truly is. “Take as long as you need,” she slurs sagely, peering into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a long time, Harry.”

And he’d laugh, probably, if this entire concept didn’t terrify him a bit to explain.

Bloody words.

He twists his pint glass, watching as foam overlaps its white-capped ring. Words have never been his strong suit. How, exactly, is he meant to convert this string of images and feelings into something resembling an explanation?

But it’s clearly something she wants answered. Something that’s probably bothered her for longer than she wants to admit. So Harry shuts his eyes, trying to remember, trying to think.

He honestly hadn’t given the concept much thought until sixth year. He knew that… general activity… happened before they started dating— obviously. The twins (perhaps deliberately) left enough moving magazines around the Burrow to leave little to the imagination. So he’d seen wizards doing it. They seemed to enjoy it almost as much as the witches splayed out in front of them. Harry just hadn’t considered, really, that he’d ever do it for any reason other than paying his dues. It seemed a simple act of reciprocity. Something one did out of expectation rather than genuine interest.

A wry smile creeps across his lips when he thinks about that particular misconception. Because that’s the furthest from the truth, isn’t it? Their relationship flashes through his mind like a film reel. The first time his thigh slipped between her legs as they snogged on the lawn. The pride that swelled in his chest as she wrapped her thighs around it, clutching it as close to her center as she could as she rocked, rocked, rocked.

Fuck, how he’d cherished the trousers he wore that day, too. For over a year, they were the closest thing he had to her knickers— and even then, he stole that first pair of knickers right off her. Though perhaps “stole” was the wrong word, because that implied some degree of secrecy… and there was nothing secret about it. He just winked at her as he pulled those blue knickers down her thighs and stuffed them in his trouser pocket. Ginny stared down at him, her chest flushed and heaving. He felt like the most powerful person alive before he even started, and when he actually did…

Fuck.

He returns to the present and adjusts himself beneath the table.

“I… erm,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I guess I’m… well, I’ve never been good at….” He makes a broad gesture. “Touch. Yeah?”

Ginny blinks. “Touch?”

Harry nods, biting inside his cheek. “Erm. When I kissed you in the common room in sixth year, that was the first time I really understood I could, you know, touch you. To make you happy. To…” He huffs out a sigh, his thoughts growing more sluggish. He sifts through them for a few seconds before reaching the answer he’s searched for all along.

“I erm. I figured out pretty quickly that I could use touch to turn you on,” he admits to the woodgrain. “And erm… for someone who wasn’t used to touching, that was pretty… nice. To learn I had that power.”

His whole face feels red-hot, like it might combust at any second, but he takes her silence as a cue to continue.

“Anyway. As soon as we started snogging, I really wanted to do it, but obviously we didn’t get the chance at school. So instead I thought about it. Wanked about it. For months.” He lets out a slow breath through his nose and focuses on a wood beam above their heads.

Has he ever admitted to a specific wanking fantasy before? He doesn’t think so.

“Continue.” Ginny’s voice warbles through his thoughts.

He swallows and tilts his head down to face her again, pleased to see that confusion has evaporated from her face entirely. Now she’s looking… uncomfortable… for entirely different reasons.

Harry smirks; he’s liking this whole opening-up thing more than he thought. But what else to tell her… hmm.

“Well, we both know I wasn’t great at first, of course,” he says, shrugging. “But you were erm. A good teacher.” He bites his lip again and remembers those early, awkward days when she still needed to shift against his face, to direct him where he needed to go.

Even back then, she lost all sense of decorum pretty fast; that was always his favorite part, really… when she started in with the deep moans, commanding him to add more fingers, to keep them in place, to crook them against her. There was no sense of accomplishment greater than the way she gripped his ears, his hair, his shoulders, her thighs clenching around his entire face as she choked out his name. Being surrounded by her— pressing his tongue against the final pulses of her clit as she rhythmically clenched against his fingers— made him feel more complete than anything else. It left her dazed and gasping; it left him feeling not only useful, but powerful. Necessary.

The whole ordeal's made him come in his trousers, actually. More than once. And speaking of trousers…

Harry clears his throat. “You could’ve asked a while ago, you know,” he says as casually as he can with a raging hard-on. “Back when I took your knickers, even. I want you to tell me if you have a question about anything. Ok?” He swallows, finally blinking up at her.

Shit.

If she looked distracted before, it’s nothing compared to now. She’s just peering at him with lips parted, chest heaving, eyes unfocused. One hand is balled into a fist on the table top, the other gripping on her thigh.

Ginny eventually rips her eyes away with an annoyed whimper. “Fucking fuck,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “I’m so fucking turned on.”

Harry laughs and finishes his pint, his chest bubbling with pride. “I guess that’s a yes.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny #tw: drinking #tw: alcohol #tw: sex talk

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