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wintrwinchestr · 6 months ago

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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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loveshotzz · 2 years ago

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bartender!eddie x fem!reader Eddie’s night.

🎵my man gives real love that’s why I call him killer, he’s not a ‘wham! bam! thank you ma’am!’ he’s a thriller.🎵

summary: After being stood up on a blind date, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with keeps you company.

word count: 12.6k

warnings: 90’s AU / 18 + no minors! /eddie is in his early 30’s, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi public smut (p in v), cream pie, dirty talk.

authors note: my love letter to the 90’s 💕after one month of brain storming and three weeks of writing here’s part one of Whatta Man! Eddie’s night. (This is a singular one shot. Steve’s night is part two, can you find the easter eggs for his night 😉)Thank you to my very talented friends who always brain storm with me and share ideas. This fun lil AU wouldn’t have happened with you. ily 💗 edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

You didn’t want to go on this date. Not when your roommate set you up, and you certainly didn’t want to go when he picked The Foxy Lounge. But when Weather Man Mike predicted the first warm day after three months of bitter winter you’d take any excuse to wear your favorite dress.

You’d been here before, always stumbling in after a night out with friends because they were the only 4am place in town. Those late nights turned to early mornings were more of a thing of the past now so when you got to the familiar chipped red door you didn’t recognize the bouncer standing outside. He has a head of honey colored hair that’s just long enough to run his fingers through. His toned frame sits pretty wrapped in a tight black tee and long legs covered in dark wash jeans tight enough for you to really have to focus on keeping your eyes on his face. A freckle covered neck leads to a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. Leaning against the brick wall with his boots crossed at the ankles a toothpick twirls between his straight teeth.

The platform of your sneakers hitting the pavement as you come to a stop and the jingle of your power beads alerts him of your presence, hazel eyes going round like the moon in the sky. Straightening his posture he snatches the tooth pick out of his mouth, stuffing it in his back pocket. You swear you see a Tamagotchi tucked away as he clears his throat with a puff of his chest.

“I.D.?”

Your lips twitch, the forced deep baritone in his voice isn’t fooling you, and you wonder if it fooled anyone when the signature beep of a Tomogatchi pet needing to be fed goes off in his back pocket. He coughs to try to cover the noise while you quickly pull what he needs out of your cross body. Holding it out for him to examine you look up with a glossed smile matching the one in the picture. Narrowing his eyes, you catch a glimmer of playfulness when he clicks on his flashlight.

Examining it like it could be a fake, you bite back a giggle while he turns it around giving it one more once over before handing it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Funny, we have the same birthday.” His voice comes out normal this time, soft and friendly just like you thought.

“Twins!”

A genuine smile lights up his face like the sign above your head, his boyish features coming out despite the stubble on his chin.

“Might as well call us the Olsen’s.” Throwing you a wink he pulls the gold handle to open the door for you. The sounds of Return of the Mack break through the hums of the street behind you. “Have fun tonight honey, be safe. If anyone bothers you, just come grab me okay? I’m steve.”

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment and you have to remind yourself that you’re here for a date. You catch a hint of his cologne when your shoulder brushes against his chest on your way in, the expensive scent making you dizzy when it hits your senses.

“I will, thanks Steve,”your words are shy when they come out, making his lips twitch in response. Nodding his head, you catch the tinge of pink on his skin before he closes the door with a small wave.

It's even louder inside with the drunk conversations battling for dominance against the music. Tugging nervously at the bottom of your dress you look around the bar for the vague description of this guy Craig your friend gave you.

You scan the crowd a few times before your eyes catch the big brown ones of the bartender. The stool in front of him freeing itself at the same time your eyes connect, the corners of his plush lips pull up as he beckons you over with two heavily ringed fingers. The unruly dark auburn curls that hit just below his shoulders catch the low light behind the bar, the yellow glow softening up all his edges.

Rocking back on your heels you pull the strap of your cross body closer, doing your best to collect yourself before you push through the crowd accepting his invitation. His smile widens, pulling up his stubble covered cheeks to reveal a set of perfect white teeth to you. The one you give him in return comes out a little shy as you plop down on the ripped vinyl that matches the red of the door.

Ink litters his arms disappearing under the frayed ends of his sleeves letting you know there was more under the tight fit of his worn faded black Metallica shirt. The two rips near the collar give you a glimpse of the chain wrapped around his neck. The scruff lining his jaw adds a few years from afar but from this close he looks your age. The silver hoop in his nose catches against the bright lighting under the bar like the rings adoring his fingers. Pulling out two empty shot glasses with a twirl he quickly fills them up with Jameson.

“This one’s on the house sweetheat, it’ll help make your date cuter.” He winks with a sly grin, your stomach flutters with his full attention on you like this.

The glass is heavy in your grasp as you stare at the dark liquid with a faint grimace. His low chuckle catches your attention before the pop and hiss of the soda fills your ears. As if reading your mind he slides over a coke, letting you keep your pride by not having to ask for a chaser.

“How do you know I’m here for a date?” Raising a questioning brow, the sides of your lips twitch as you struggle to hold a straight face. “A girl can’t come to the bar alone on a Friday night?”

The chocolate in his eyes lights up at your playful banter, slinging a white towel over his shoulder he leans in, forearms pressing hard against the counter as he invades your space. The spice of his cologne and the burn of cigarette smoke joins with him and you find yourself sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you telling me you’re available then?” Dropping his voice low enough to feel between your legs, you wished more than anything you had a different answer to give him.

The heaviness of his gaze has your cheeks warming, the intensity of the eye contact forcing your gaze away for a second as you clear your throat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you muster enough courage to meet his eyes again.

“N-no unfortunately, you were right.” Exaggerating a heavy sigh, his confident demeanor never wavers despite his confirmed suspicions.

“Unfortunately is right, huh?” Winking, he pushes back leaving only the lingering scent of his cologne raising his shot in an offering of cheers. “To what could have been, baby.”

A giggle bubbles past your lips when his fingers brush against yours meeting in the middle with a clink. Downing his shot like a professional, he’s left to watch the way you struggle with yours. Amusement is evident on his face while he watches the way your throat stays unwilling to open. Holding the alcohol in your mouth longer than anyone would want, it finally gives in letting the bitter liquid go down with a bite. Pushing the can of coke towards you with his knuckles, his laugh booms loud from his chest as you search for reprieve in the sweetness with desperation.

Chugging with abandon, you forget your surroundings for a second before your eyes meet his over the rim of the can and it’s almost enough to have you snort the rest of it all over yourself.

Coming up for air you grumble a half assed “shut up” doing your best to try and fight the smile begging to spread across your lips as you wipe them with the back of your hand.

“Not a whiskey girl I take it?” Punctuating the ‘t’ harder than normal, his teasing falls on deaf ears when you get distracted at the way his thick fingers wrap around the shot glasses.

“Not a shot girl in general, I’d rather not taste the alcohol if I can help it.” Shrugging, you trace invisible patterns on the sticky quartz of the bar top with french tipped nails silently reminding yourself for the second time tonight you’re here for a date.

“So how’d you two meet?” He raises his voice so it comes out sickly sweet while a shaker and a lemon appears in his hands. Setting them down on top of the worn jagermeister logo that covers the drink mat he starts rolling the fruit against his palm.

“We haven’t met yet actually, a friend set us up.”

Eddie’s movements freeze for a second, eyebrows furrowing together in a look of confusion as if that was the craziest thing that anyone had ever told him. He grabs the bottle of simple syrup adding more to what looked like it was going to be a sweet drink before he answers.

“Someone like you shouldn’t need to be set up, sweetheart.” He looks up at you from under the hood of his lashes quickly picking up on the effect he has on you.

He twirls another empty glass onto the counter top before he smashes the lid of the shaker on, not giving you a chance to respond he starts shaking it louder than you know is necessary. The bats tattooed on his arm dance across the muscles with the flex of every flick of his wrist.

“Really? Laying it on thick, huh?” Raising your voice enough to know he could hear you, he taunts you by cupping his free hand over his ear to make a show of pretending he can’t, mouthing a ‘sorry’ with a smirk. The laugh he earns from when he finally relents is the prettiest sound he thinks he’s ever heard.

“Well I hope this ‘friend’ has a good vetting process. No less than three interviews or no dice.” He pours your drink with panache, like he’s putting on a show for you, like you’re sure he does with all the other girls.

Grabbing a straw he plugs one end with his index finger before he dips it into the slightly lighter liquid. The heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable when his lips wrap around the end tasting his creation with a low groan, his pink tongue pokes out to collect the sweetness left behind.

“I think, I think you’re gonna like this one. It’s an Eddie Munson original, I’m calling it "Wasting Love.” The roll of your eyes makes him bark out another laugh. The signs of the smoke you smell on him are more noticeable in this one’s rumble.

“I wonder what could have inspired it?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you knew you shouldn’t be flirting with him while you waited for Craig, but you can’t help yourself. Besides, he was already ten minutes late.

“I think you know what inspired it sweetheart, I can tell you’re not just some pretty face.” Dimples poking through his cheeks, he finally takes notice of the glares from the customers filling up the bar. Everyone’s patience starting to wear thin while they waited for whatever this was to be over.

“I gotta stop ignoring all the other people in here real quick, but I’ll be back for your review.” He throws you another wink and it has you shifting in your seat as he starts to walk away.

“Wait! I never opened a tab!” Calling after him as you reach for your purse, he tuts loudly, turning around to face you, continuing his path walking backwards.

“You shouldn’t be paying for a thing tonight, gorgeous.” He waves his hand dismissively before his back is to you again giving his undivided attention to the bearded man who looked ready to murder the carefree metal head if he didn’t get his Bud Light in the next five seconds.

Trying not to get too caught up in someone that wasn’t your date you timidly bring the straw to your lips. Humming appreciatively when the sweetness hits your tastebuds you’re pleasantly surprised at how much you actually like it. Feeling bold enough to take a bigger gulp, you look around for Craig again. So lost in the little bubble you had been in with Eddie you didn’t realize how much more the bar had filled up since you arrived. A new kind of rowdy energy in the air — the low murmurs of conversation get loud enough to drown out Semi- Charmed Kinda Life.

Glancing down at your pink swatch watch, your date was now twenty minutes late. Turning around to check and make sure the lavender cross body you told him to look for was visible, you crane your neck around looking one last time. It’s easy to shrug off the sinking feeling of rejection when you turn back around to watch Eddie in his natural habitat.

He moves behind the bar like he’s been doing it his whole life, like everything was muscle memory. As if he could feel you staring he catches your gaze throwing you a smirk before he tosses a bottle of tequila in the air catching it with ease. Pouring it into four lined up shot glasses, the group of girls in front of him celebrating what looked like a bachelorette party with all their multi-colored hats and boas squealed with drunk delight. Your eyes hit the back of your skull in a hard roll when one of them bats their eyelashes at him with a hand on his arm.

Sucking down the rest of your drink, the slurping once you hit the ice is loud enough to annoy the guy next to you who shoots you a warning look over his shoulder. Mouthing an apology you push your empty glass away looking around the bar one more time. The guilt of flirting with Eddie starts to disappear when you look at your watch again and start coming to terms you were actually being stood up. Searching for his doe eyes again, your heart sinks when you find him this time.

Dimples in his cheeks again, he’s practically beaming at her. Their body language telling you this isn’t their first time meeting and how animated he is when he talks to her is like he’s known her for years. Gesturing wildly with his hands while she nods enthusiastically, something he says has her throwing her head back with a laugh loud enough you can hear it over the music. You huff through your nose, the sting of rejection sneaking its way back in. The reminder that he was just doing his job and you were here for a date, one that never showed up, slaps you right in the face.

Averting your gaze to spare whatever confidence you have left, your eyes find the bouncer at the front door. Inside the bar now with a hard glare set on his handsome face. His arms sit folded across his broad chest while his jaw clenches at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders flex. Steve looks pissed.

Interest piqued, you follow his line of sight despite it going in the direction of the bar you were trying to avoid. Somehow not surprised when your eyes land on her again, you notice Eddie has already busied himself with someone else. With his back towards both of you he fills two pints with Blue Moon, the uncomfortable look on her face couldn’t be missed. The greasy blonde hair on the man that was clearly invading her personal space told you he’d been drinking all day. The grimace on her pretty face says she could smell it on his breath too.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you see him grab onto her arm while trying to whisper in her ear. You feel yourself ready to stand up and help when she pushes him away, with the way the veins in her neck were flexing whatever she was saying to him wasn't nice. Shoving her hand in his face she storms towards the front door where Steve is waiting, looking seconds away from killing the man who followed her path out of the bar with a leer.

The scowl on her face softens instantly when she’s met with Steve opening the door, the glare on his face being replaced with a deep flush when you catch a “Thanks, Stevie” fall appreciatively from her lips.

SMACK

Jumping at the sound of metal hitting wood, Eddie’s dimples show themselves only this time they are for you as he leans forward on his arms again, eyes flicking towards the spot next to you. He pulls himself even closer when he notices no one new occupying the stool, making you search for friction with the fat of your thighs.

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” Flashing you his perfect teeth for the second time tonight the bruise to your ego already starts to disappear.

“I drank it without gagging, didn’t I?” Crossing your arms on top of the bar it's your turn to lean into his space and you swear you hear his breath hitch at your new boldness.

Licking his lips, your eyes greedily follow the path of his tongue. His smile stretches across his face even more when he notices, making no effort to move- unwilling to back down from the silent standoff you’ve challenged him too.

“‘I’ll have you know I take that as a very high compliment coming from you.” His breath fans across your cheeks from this close, mint and whiskey hitting your nose when he huffs a laugh. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Turns out there was no Prince, just an ugly old toad.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him through half lidded eyes, “Good thing I didn’t kiss him, huh?”

A low rumble shakes in his chest as he dares to lean in even closer, the tips of your noses almost brushing while the bubble you’d lost yourselves in reappears.

“Yeah baby, you can’t give those out to just anybody, they gotta be for someone special.” His voice is low, dripping with the kind of want you’d never had directed at you before. His eyes take in every inch of your face from this close while you try to keep up with his smooth tongue.

“Got anyone in mind, Eddie?” Doing your best to match his tone, his brows pinch together at the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth taking one last look at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah, I know a guy actually. He’s a bartender with a great head of hair.” Wiggling his eyebrows when you snort, the front door swings open, breaking you two apart as the girl from before commands the room like a record scratch, silencing the bar for the first time all night.

“Eddie! It’s bad, Steve needs you!” The sheer panic in her voice is enough for the jealous monster inside you to stay at bay as Eddie pushes back on his heels.

An irritated sigh escapes him while he mutters ‘not a-fucking-gain’ under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes find yours. You jump a little when he grabs your hands, the warmth of his palms enveloping yours while he gives you a pleading look.

“Don’t - I mean, please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back, I need to go save my buddy’s ass again. But I promise I’ll be right back, this conversation is too important to leave unfinished.” He flashes you that million dollar smile like chaos isn’t ensuing outside and all you can do is nod, signaling that you’ll stay put.

Hopping over the bar his loose fitting combat boots squeak over the counter top, the black jeans that were hidden from your sight somehow fit him even better than his shirt. Your gaze is shamelessly hungry as it follows him until he’s out the door. The scuffle outside leaking through the music with a blur of bodies outside.

Too focused on the glimpse of Eddie’s towering frame stepping between the two guys to break up the fight, you don’t notice the person who walks through the unattended door until it shuts behind him with a thud. Ready to glare at whoever it is your eyes widen when you meet the ones belonging to who you can only assume is Craig. The burnt auburn hair he sports and the way he zero’s in on your purse confirms your suspicions. This was Craig, you're incredibly late and not even remotely as attractive as the bartender, date.

“Shit, shit, shit.” No matter how quickly you averted your stare, you knew it was too late, he saw you. Panic sets in while your brain goes a mile a minute trying to think a way out of this.

Looking around the bar for some sort of escape, the thought of ducking into the bathroom sounds like a winner but then the image of Eddie coming back and seeing you gone seeps into the forefront of your mind making you quickly toss that idea out the window. Turning to the people on either side of you who are too lost in their own conversations to notice your dilemma, you try to decide which one you could interrupt the most naturally.

The couple on your right looks like they’re on a date going really well and the one on your left seems like two friends catching up. The tap on your shoulder is enough for you to make a split second decision, clearing your throat you spare the newly blossoming romance next you from your desperate antics, choosing to interrupt the friends who are reconnecting with a loud fake laugh.

“That’s when she told me- um excuse me do I know you?” Gruff and confused, the man closest to you looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. First your loud slurping and now this? This plan was never going to work from the get-go.

Another persistent tap on your shoulder has you grasping for straws. You open your mouth to try to sell whatever this was one last time.

“Umm excuse me?” Craig’s voice comes out loud enough to cut you off and for the poor guy next to you to give you the final cold shoulder. Unable to ignore him any longer, you force yourself to turn around and face him head on. Kind of.

Channeling your inner Alicia Silverstone you try to give him the best Clueless look you can muster and he returns it with an even more confused expression, clearing his throat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Craig, Ariana’s friend. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tan slacks, the maroon sweater he wears fits loosely over his thin frame, dirty black chucks on his feet, his look screams ‘I listen to Nirvana’.

“Umm, I think you have the wrong person? I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here tonight.” It’s not believable in the slightest when the words leave your mouth, your less than confident delivery giving you away. The look on his face lets you know you’ve definitely been made

“Are you sure? I was told to look for the girl with a lavender purse.” As if to prove his point he points to the exact one he’s talking about slung across your shoulder. He scoffs when you keep up with your charade, “I know I’m late but this is ridiculous.”

“A lot of girls have purple bags, Craig.” His name comes out dripping in venom, the need to get rid of him before Eddie’s return throwing any logic out the window. You needed to believe your own lie.

The sudden harshness has him raising his hands in defense, backing down a little under the daggers of your glare.

“Whoa, chill out, my bad. You just match the exact description I was given, that's all.”

Clenching your jaw in frustration because he just won’t give up, you try to hold your composure while your eyes flick towards the door in anticipation for his return.

“Well you’ve told me you were late twice already so she probably just left. Rude of you to keep her waiting honestly.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you know that he’s aware of exactly what you are doing but you don’t care anymore.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened, and not her being bitter I’m one measly hour late.” The way his words clip signal the rejection sinking in, a glare setting firm on his face.

It’s the stare down of the century before Eddie comes barging through the entrance with a loud huff and a clap of his hands. Cheeks red from yelling and hair slightly more wild than before. He checks to make sure you’re still exactly where he left you before he glances over to Craig for a split second not registering who he is. Hopping over the bar with another skid of his boots, he still manages to give you a lopsided grin when he gets to the other side. Hitting the top of the bar in a series of beats - he’s a ball of energy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, Steve’s lucky the girl he took a knuckle sandwich for has a first aid kit. Rick keeps saying he’s gonna get one but I have yet to see it. Want another cocktail?” Talking a mile a minute with the leftover adrenaline from the fight, he still doesn’t notice the way Craig watches the two of you until he catches how awkward you’re being. Eddie’s face hardens, the softness he was giving you disappearing. “Something I can help you with buddy?”

You don’t even have to look at Craig to know he’s puffing out his chest with a point of his chin addressing Eddie.

“Actually pal, maybe you can.” His tone makes Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, a tested smile spreading over his lips while he lets Craig continue. “I was supposed to meet someone here for a blind date, I was told to look for a girl with a lavender purse exactly like this one. You haven't seen another girl with this exact same bag have you?”

Eddie’s wide eyes meet yours, amusement filling the specks of golden brown as he picks up on exactly what’s happening. The corners of his lips twitch before he nods his head licking his bottom lip holding your gaze long enough to make you squirm before bringing his attention back to Craig with a low whistle.

“Oh yeah, I remember that hottie, man. It’s a shame you were late, she took off with this dude she met waiting for you. She didn’t stand a chance, though, honestly. I know the guy, he’s too smooth for his own good. Pretty good looking too. Can’t be leaving your girl unattended around him. Probably wouldn’t have worked out between you two anyway.” Eddie catches the roll of your eyes at his self indulgent story as you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to hide your face splitting grin.

“Why don’t you walk away with some dignity. What’s that saying? There’s always more fish in the sea or some shit.” Eddie adds more salt to the wound, finally breaking Craig enough to give up.

“Whatever you say man, this bar is fuckin’ lame anyway. Who wants to drink to Third Eye Blind.” Grumbling his insults as he slinks away, he takes one last look at you and Eddie before his final exit with a flip of his middle finger.

Eddie’s stare is hot on your face, while you bashfully avoid his gaze keeping your eyes lingering on the door. When you finally dare to meet his eyes the shit eating grin on his face makes you groan, the buzz of your drink pulling a giggle out of you.

“Eddie, don’t —“

“Well, well, aren’t you just a little heartbreaker, huh?” His teasing only makes your cheeks grow hotter as you try to hide your face from his view.

“Don’t you need to go attend to all the customers you left?” Your words come out muffled from behind your hands as you slowly pull them down just enough to uncover the fake glare you were sending his way.

“I’ve got my favorite one right here.” Voice dropping low with a smirk, he was right, you didn’t stand a chance.

“I haven’t paid for a single thing, you refused my money if you remember.” Bringing your hands down to fully come out of hiding, he bites his bottom lip when he can take in your features again.

“It’s no good here, baby, I could actually get arrested if I take it and then how would I be able to take you out to get pancakes after my shift if I’m behind bars?” Bringing his hands together in mock shackles and a pout, the chain wrapped around his wrist catches your eyes for the first time.

“You’re takin’ me to get pancakes?” Flirting like a love sick teenager, you even start to kick your feet under the bar.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re my fill in bouncer for the rest of the night.” Smirking, he nods his head to the man at the opposite end of the bar flagging him down with a twenty dollar bill. His eyes sparkling with something new now that he had you.

“Me? A Bouncer? I’m not intimidating in the slightest!” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you smile at his retreating form, the game of ‘playing hard to get’ becoming a thing of the past now.

“Sorry, you owe me, heartbreaker.” He shrugs like it’s out of his control before flashing you the same lopsided grin leaving you a mess of nerves from getting to spend the night with him.

The hours till close go by faster than you anticipate with Eddie topping off your drink any time you ask, the buzz from the alcohol is just enough to handle the growing intensity of his flirting. Now that the only obstacle in the way of each other was time, he was relentless.

Enjoying the game of chicken the two of you had started unconsciously playing, you stop noticing the clock. Every six customers earns you five —sometimes ten minutes of his time and he makes sure to use every second of those breaks as an excuse to lean in close, whispering in your ear, holding your face close every time you talk. He was getting off on the way he could make you shift in your seat and hide your bottom lip between your teeth when he got close enough for his lips to brush against your ear. Your fingers find excuses to wrap around his wrist when he invades your space, playing with his chain, you keep him close making sure to tilt your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse down your neck into the low cut of your dress.

The small hand on the clock above the door hits the three and it’s not until his breaks start getting longer and your touches are able to get a little bolder that you notice the murmur of voices over the music disappears. The few stranglers left sipping their last drinks of the evening are paying the two of you no mind despite the way he’s tucking your hair out of his way to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose.

The realization that you’re finally about to be alone with him brings your nerves to a head and the need to check yourself over in the bathroom mirror becomes urgent. The flick of his tongue along your earlobe distracts you for a second as your head nudges against his when it tickles making a giggle slip past your lips.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, Eddie.” You inhale the scent of pine lingering in his shampoo, giving him one last nudge with your nose before hopping off the stool. He gives you his best puppy eyes as you get up to leave, pushing out his bottom lip when you tug your dress down.

“Please, I’ll be like three minutes.” You roll your eyes at him but the smile that lights up your face tells him you’re eating it up.

“I’ll be counting every second you're gone, baby.” Holding his hands over his heart for dramatic effect the man at the end of the bar snorts loudly ruining the moment. He earns an annoyed glare from the bartender, “Better hurry up and finish that shit old man, it’s closing time.”

You hear him grunt in response to Eddie’s rude reminder before disappearing into the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Stickers and writing with permanent marker cover every inch of the dark crimson walls. The doors of the black stalls barely hang from their hinges, dents from many reckless drunk nights at The Foxy Lounge punch random spots into the metal. The bottom of your sneakers stick to the floor with every step to the mirror where more stickers and black scribbles line the surface including a girl named Leigh’s phone number with the note ‘for a good time call’ attached at the end leaving just enough room to see your face.

The space buns on top of your head are messy from Eddie nuzzling his beard into your hair all night. You try to salvage what was left of them by tightening the knots a little more before deciding it's a lost cause. He was probably just going to mess them up more anyway. The thought of Eddie’s hands being free to touch you in every way you’ve wanted all night has you taking a deep breath while you hold your own eyes in the mirror.

“It’s happening, you’re gonna have sex with him. You’re gonna fuck the super hot bartender who flirts like it’s his second language tonight and you’re gonna be confident about it okay? You hear me?” Pointing to yourself in the mirror, the determination in your stare is enough for your tipsy pep talk to work its magic.

Taking one last look at yourself with a nod of your head you pull open the bathroom door ready to take on the rest of the night. Only to stop in your tracks when you notice the stool that was occupied is now empty and every inch of Eddie is also in full view from where he stands in front of the jukebox. Your eyes are insatiable taking in his tall frame like this for the first time all night.

You notice the giant chain that hangs from his belt loop this time, and there’s even more rips in his jeans than before giving you a peek at the pale skin hidden underneath. His shoulder blades move under the thin fabric of his shirt when he clicks his choice on the machine. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer spills out from the speakers of the bar as he turns on his heels, the smirk that plays on his lips dares you to catch the hint with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Very subtle.” Crossing your arms as if to act immune to his charms, you know he sees right through your facade but he plays along anyway raising his big hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“It’s just one of my favorite songs, I don’t know what kinda ideas you got going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He takes a few more steps towards you slowly closing the gap, daring to be closer to you than he had been all night without a wooden bar separating you.

“Interesting, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Sixpence fan.” Raising your eyebrow, you have to look up at him when he finally takes the last few steps to stand in front of you.

“Why? Cause I’m such a tough guy?” His grin grows wider when he looks down at you catching the roll of your eyes while you uncross your arms opening your body up to him with a laugh.

“I can’t stand you.” Your swat is flirtatious with your palm hitting his chest. He’s quick to catch it, using your hand as leverage to pull you closer, biting back his groan when a breathy gasp slips past your lips when he tucks you into chest. First your giggle and now this? He just knew you were going to sound so pretty falling apart for him.

“I think Craig would call that bluff sweetheart.” He gives you a minute to let his words sink in, throwing his head back with a loud laugh when you huff at him embarrassed. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. He needed to be dumped, a girl like you deserves someone that's gonna show up when they’re supposed to.”

The sweetness of his words has you melt against him, the playful pull from before surrendering to his touch and you swear there’s hearts in your eyes from the way he looks down at you after saying something like that.

“Thanks for tonight Eddie,” your voice is small when it comes out laced with adoration, and it’s his turn to get bashful making your favorite dimples come out again.

“No problem sweetheart, honestly it’s my fuckin’ lucky night.” Pulling your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss to the skin stretched over them before letting your hand drop, noting the disappointment on your face that you’re quick to cover up.

“Wanna get some fresh air while I smoke before I close this place down?”

——

Eddie somehow looks even better under the twinkling stars and pink fluorescent lights of The Foxy Lounge sign. The low hum of the electricity filling your ears as you lean against the brick of the building. His eyes are brighter out here, catching them with your own when he looks at you over the end of his cigarette.

He winks when you meet his pointed gaze, the flame of his lighter casting shadows that dance across the strong lines of his jaw, the orange glow highlighting the stubble that covers it. Batting your lashes at him, you push your hips off the wall playfully while he keeps his eyes on you through his entire first drag, only breaking contact for the split second he needs to blow the smoke he inhaled away from you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” His words come out like a warning before he takes another hit.

“How am I looking at you Eddie?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you make sure to say his name extra sweet just how you figured out he likes. He shakes his head with a low chuckle blowing more smoke into the clear night sky.

Despite only taking two drags, he flicks the barely smoked cigarette to the side before closing the distance with a few steps leaving him crowding you against the building. Your chest brushes against his with every shallow breath. Getting lost in the darkening amber inside his eyes, the calloused tips of his fingers catch against the soft skin of your chin. The pad of his thumb pulling the velvet of your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Ducking his head down he nudges your nose with his, the heat of his breath fanning against your open mouth. His eyes go from yours back down to your glossed lips silently begging for your permission.

“I think it was you that was hinting at kissing me earlier.” Pushing up on your tiptoes, you smile against him when your lips just barely touch.

“Oh? You think that’s what I was doing hmm?” Asking the question he already knows the answer to, his tongue licks against your top lip as your hands find the material of his shirt, fisting as much of it as you can before yanking him down to collect his lips with an eager mouth, giving up winning whatever game this was.

You swallow his moan when your tongues meet in the middle battling for dominance, teeth scraping, you taste the few puffs of tobacco still lingering on his taste buds as his muscle massages against yours. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he smiles smug into the kiss when your hips search for friction against the denim.

He breaks away from your mouth long enough to start trailing wet kisses down your jaw, the rough hair on his chin rubbing your skin raw as he starts nipping and sucking bruises along your neck. Biting hard enough at your pulse point to have to soothe it with his tongue after the mewls he pulls from you are enough to drive him insane.

Your fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, giving his roots a pull while you turn your head, opening more of yourself to him. Taking your silent invitation he nips at the dip of your collar bone before lifting his head to press his forehead to yours.

“I gotta close up baby, but then…”rubbing his hands up your curves with a low groan he squeezes at the plush of your hips before finishing his sentence, “I think I promised you pancakes.”

Nodding your head because words are stuck at the tip of your tongue, he grabs your cheeks with a strong grip, smushing your lips together before stealing one last kiss.

——-

Eddie doesn’t give you the attention you’ve grown accustomed to all night when he starts the process of actually cleaning the bar. Your body still buzzes like a live wire from the drinks and the kiss outside. He’d been counting his tips with his back to you for the last ten minutes and you were growing impatient for more of him. You needed it.

Counting the last bill he finally turns around and your thighs press together when you get to see his face again. Shifting in your seat when his eyes barely meet yours, he makes his way to the other end of the bar. Pushing yourself up to lean forward with puckered lips, he ignores your advances passing by without so much as a glance in your direction. Huffing when you plop back in your seat, he flips the knob starting to wash his hands in the mini sink with his back to you again. Your foot taps against the metal of the stool as you watch him grab the scratched up red bucket hanging below and a fresh rag quickly replacing his hands with it to fill up.

You wonder if he can feel your stare when he adds the soap, taking his time while he spins the rag in the steaming water, he starts ringing it out. Arms flexing and suds spilling over his knuckles, you were gonna lose your mind if you didn’t get your hands on him soon.

He makes big swipes as he starts working his way towards you, keeping his eyes so focused on his task you’d think you were invisible if it wasn’t for the smirk that was getting impossible for him to hide. It only grows bigger when he stops in front of you, adding a low hum to his charade purposely wiping around the outline of your hands that were splayed out on the counter ready to push yourself up again.

“Eddie - c’mon!”

You’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the laugh that falls easy from his chest when he finally looks at you. His face softens and his eyes darken when he catches your angry pout, your fingers are quick to find his free ones making him tsk at you but he doesn’t pull away.

“My hands are wet baby.” He knew you didn’t care and the teeth showing in his wide grin told you he didn’t either.

Giving into your persistence like it hasn’t been a fight to keep his hands to himself this whole time, he leans forward brushing his nose with yours before nudging it against your cheek so your lips just barely touch. When you go to close the space he pulls back just enough to tease, a small whine escaping you at his games.

“What’s got you so needy, huh?” His words are whispered as he presses with the slightest pressure before pulling back again. “I didn’t kiss you good enough outside, you need more?”

“Please.” Your cheeks burn when you hear how your voice sounds, but his grip on your fingers tighten and a low moan breaks through his front at how desperate you sound just for a kiss.

“Gotta give my girl what she needs.” Your brain gets stuck on the words ‘my girl’ taking you a minute to realize he was finally giving you what you want.

It’s slower than outside, he’s taking his time with you this time. Untangling his fingers from yours, his hand comes up to wrap around the side of your neck. The water feels good on your skin as the pad of his thumb starts rubbing soft lines under your jaw while his tongue swipes at your bottom lip looking for more. You don’t give into his advances on purpose, keeping your mouth closed to get him back for all his teasing you feel his smile grow against your own.

Expecting him to stop and surrender, he only doubles down. Catching your top lip with his bottom, he pulls away just enough for you to open your eyes. God, you wished you kept them closed. The brightness from outside had turned them into nothing but black leaving no trace of the specks of brown from before. The knowledge that he was just as affected by all of this as you sends you reeling. Toes curling inside your sneakers.

“Whining over here for me to give you what you want, and here I am baby, and you’re playing hard to get.” Nipping at your bottom lip he meets your heavy lidded gaze again, “Gonna let me give you what you want?”

He barely lets you finish nodding before he’s on you, the hunger from outside coming back as he leans over the bar to deepen the kiss like you’d been begging him for. Opening your mouth for him without hesitation when he asks for permission again your tongues meet lazily, exploring each other like you didn’t get a chance to before. Pushing up again eager to get more of him he pulls back leaving you breathless with spit slick lips.

Despite the way his chest heaves trying to catch his breath, he does his best to play it cool, smirking when you have no shame chasing for more.

“I gotta finish closing up.” He gives you one more chaste kiss before he starts wiping the rest of the counter down.

Jutting out your bottom lip into a pout, he laughs, throwing out a ‘you’ll survive five minutes baby.’

You leave him alone doing your best not to distract him, despite how much your fingers itch to have him close again. Grabbing the money from the register and the receipts for the night he disappears back into what you could only assume was Rick’s office. When he pops back out he looks a little more relaxed.

“Just gotta wipe the bottles down and then I’m getting the prettiest girl the best pancakes in town.” Clapping his hands together with a rub of his palms, he grabs another rag.

You were starting to hate pancakes. Not that you didn’t want them, you just wanted him more.

“Hey Eddie?” Trying to hide your ulterior motives in the sweetness of your voice, his eyes meet yours almost instantly and they narrow just as quick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Setting the rag down he leans forward with his palms on the bar he gives you his undivided attention. An intimidation tactic. Unable to help yourself, your eyes trace up the ink covering his arms.

“Teach me how to make that drink?” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you see something flash across his face, fingertips digging into the countertop after the question leaves your mouth.

“Wasting Love?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it that now, would you?” Laying it on thick, a slow smile spreads across his face. He saw what you were doing and he was going to fall into your trap willingly.

“Why don’t you come back here then, we’ll make our own.” His voice comes out low, his pupils taking over all the brown, pretty white teeth baring themselves at you.

His gaze is predatory when he watches you jump from the stool, the exaggerated sway of your hips keeps his eyes trained on the curve of your waist as you make your way into his space for the first time all night. Leaning against the back counter, his legs are spread wide leaving little to the imagination on how worked up you had him. His eyebrows raise when he sees the automatic press of your thighs at the sight. It wasn’t fair, you were trying to seduce him, not the other way around. He wasn’t even trying.

As if on cue the jukebox that had been left to play all night clicks, Ginuwine’s Pony pouring out of the speakers as he licks his lips unashamed at the way he’s drinking all of you in like this.

“Gonna teach me how to make something sweet, Eddie?” Trailing a finger along the bar while you close the distance, you drag out the ‘e’ at the end of his name just enough to get him to groan.

His hands grab your waist squeezing just hard enough to feel his strength before using it to pull you flush against him. The material of your dress doing nothing to hide how hard he is pressed into your ass. His lips trace the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as you push back into him searching for more. The stubble on his face rubs rough against the soft skin of your cheek as he punctuates each word with a roll of his hips.

“The sweetest, baby.”

You bite back your moan when his nose trails up your neck, his lips just barely grazing the warmth of your flesh before they settle back against your ear. You hold onto the wood of the bar in front of you when he hums low, feeling it deep in your core. His calloused fingers start a path up the bare skin of your thigh hiking up your dress when they catch the hem.

“Tell me,” your eyes close when his nose is pressed to your temple as he speaks, “Do you like cherries, baby?” His tongue catches your earlobe sucking it into his mouth, grazing it between his teeth when he lets it back out.

Your knees almost buckle at how good everything feels, the slow rock of his hips never stopping as he plucks at the lace trim of your underwear.

“Y- yeah, I love cherries,” you whimper when his palms lay flat on the outside of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin when he squeezes at the fat working his way back up.

“Of course you do, pretty.” His thumbs hook the sides of your underwear, “You’re just so sweet all the time, huh?” Despite the need for friction, you spread your legs for him wondering if he can hear the way your lips pull apart sticky, arousal coating the inside of your thighs.

He chuckles soft in your ear praising you with a ‘so sweet’ before giving them a tug, letting the red lace fall to the floor. Keeping his hands on your hips, he presses himself against you hard enough to have the heels of your sneakers pick up off the ground. A low ‘fuck’ slipping out from under his breath when you whine a little.

“Red lace? Was Kurt gonna get lucky or was this just a ploy to get me all along, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn at his question, his low chuckle tickling your ear when he hears you huff out an annoyed breath. “‘Cause if that’s the case all you would’ve had to do is walk through that door on any given night.”

He grinds himself against you one more time, but you can really feel him this time and it makes your legs shake.

“Are we gonna make this drink or do you wanna keep talking about Craig?” The shake of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed despite trying to be sharp with him but the grip on your waist still tightens at the mention of the other man’s name

“Sure we can, if that’s really what you wanna do.” His words taunt you but with one hand holding you against him the other flips a clean cocktail glass onto the bar top with ease, like he wasn’t rock hard digging into your back.

Reaching around, his hand trails up the front of your thigh sending goosebumps across your heated skin. A shiver runs down your spine when he dares to dip between your legs inching his way towards where you want him most.

“We better not mix liquors so why don’t you be a good girl and grab the whiskey for me.” His lips brush against your ear with every word, his hand never faltering on their path even when his fingertips meet your slick folds. Feather light, he traces along your slit, not daring to break the barrier yet. Brain hazy with want you don’t even comprehend what bottle you reach for, blindly grabbing for whatever was in front of you.

“That is tequila, sweetheart. Tsk, tsk, tsk are you even listening to what I’m saying? Or are you too…” Before he finishes his sentence he pushes his index finger past your entrance, your warm walls wrapping tight around his digit, “…distracted?”

Your head lulls back against his chest, your eyes closing when he pushes two knuckles deeper. Your needy whimper makes him kick up again making you grind your ass against him in response. Licking your lips, you try to collect yourself only chasing for more of his finger once.

“N-no, I can do it.” Determined to prove him wrong, you focus just long enough to grab the Jameson bottle, “What’s next?”

He hums in approval while his smile grows against your skin. Deciding to indulge in your stubborn game still, he curves his finger enough just to make you gasp his name.

“Are we keeping this simple, or do you want something a little more—” Adding a second finger, you stretch easily for him now, dripping down his hand, “Complicated?”

You shudder, a moan slipping past your lips while your grip on the bottle tightens so much you're scared it’ll shatter. Fuck, you gotta keep it …

“S- simple - oh.” His thumb finds your clit applying just enough pressure to have your mouth fall open and your brows to knit together, and just as quick as he’s there, he’s gone.

Pulling himself free, he tries his best to ignore the way your pussy tries to suck him back in, your body begging him for more. You whimper at the loss, your eyes opening to remind you where you are.

“I’m gonna need both hands to do this, baby.” His fingers shine with your slick when he wiggles them for show, stepping back just enough for you to see the grin on his face but not enough to get out of your personal space.

Grabbing his wrist, his eyes go dark when he realizes what you’re about to do. Gaze turning half lidded when your mouth opens, huffing out a deep breath when your tongue flattens against the pads of the two fingers that were just buried inside of you. Wrapping your lips around them, your arousal is tangy sweet hitting your taste buds.

Hollowing your cheeks as you suck them clean, you watch the confidence drain from his face, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the sight. The blunt ends of his nails dig through the soft material of your dress and he starts rutting into you with a little more force when you slide your tongue between each knuckle.

“Jesus christ,” his voice is strangled, words coming out through gritted teeth when you let him go with a loud pop.

“Now you can use both hands,” you say innocently, like you didn’t just suck them clean. You let his fingers tug at your bottom lip before dropping his wrist.

He fists a handful of your dress, a low growl rumbling from his chest getting a taste of his own medicine. Licking his lips, his eyes narrow at you before his teeth start to show, mischievous in the low light.

“Well if we want this drink cold, we need to fill this shaker with ice.” Just like the glass, he flips it on the counter one hand never leaving your waist despite his claim.

Pressing his lips to your ear again, he makes sure to let his breath linger a little before he talks, enjoying the goosebumps that appear from such a simple touch.

“Fill it up for me, baby?” Your thighs clench at the deep rasp in his voice, both of his hands finding a home spread out on your thighs.

Nodding your head you slide open the silver metal door of the ice chest below you, bending over more than you needed to to scoop it up into the shaker. He groans loud when you press into him like this, his fingers making quick work to flip the back of your dress up.

“Look at you, so fucking messy for me and I’ve barely touched you.” Grabbing a handful of your ass, he ruts into you, the rough denim hitting your clit in a way that has you moaning his name.

He laughs quietly at your neediness flipping your dress back down when you straighten out. Chests heaving in time with the other, neither one of you was ready to back down. Not yet.

“Might need to unzip those pants.” Looking over your shoulder at him you fake a pout, “Feeling a little strained back there handsome.”

Smugness dripping from the smile on your face, he raises his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

“Since you wanted something simple sweetheart, we just need two more things.” One hand snakes its way back between your legs, squeezing at the inside of your thigh before he lets you go for the first time since you set foot behind the bar.

Craning your neck so you could follow him, you find him bent down grabbing lemon juice from the mini fridge under the shorter back counter. Shutting the door with his foot when he stands up, he throws a wink your way when he grabs the simple syrup.

Setting the bottles in front of you he steals a quick kiss that leaves you wanting more before he grabs the small tub of cherries from the fridge he forgot his first go around.

“Okay, so you’re gonna grab the Jameson, and I want you to pour it out to the count of three for me then cut it off.” He returns to his place behind you, his large hand swallowing yours when it shadows your movements.

Your pour is shaky when he counts low in your ear, nuzzling his nose in your hair calling you a good girl after each successful addition to the simple concoction.

“Alright, now you’re gonna shake it as hard as you can angel.” His hands squeeze your hips for encouragement.

Doing as he says he pulls you against him even harder when your arms start to go wild. Your chest bounces with each movement making you giggle and you almost don’t hear the hitch in his breath at the sight.

He helps you by putting the strainer over the rim of the glass when you’re ready to pour. Mumbling soft words of praise while he nibbles at your ear lobe. The drink is much lighter than the one you had all night, the dark orange turning lemon as the white foam fizzed on top.

“I think I could take your job.” You smirk reaching for the cherries to top it all off.

“You think you could take my job?” He snorts incredulous, watching you unwrap the plastic wrap from the small tub dropping three cherries into the already very sweet cocktail.

“Absolutely.” Grinning while ignoring his stare you reach for another cherry, “No doubt in my mind.” You grab the fruit between your teeth, finally meeting his eyes as you pull the stem, relishing in the burst of sugar and grenadine that erupts against your tongue.

“Tough luck princess, unless you know how to tie that cherry stem in a knot with your teeth, no bar in this town is gonna touch you.” Grabbing his own cherry, he dangles it in front of your frowning mouth for you to bite. Obliging him with it bumps your bottom lip you tug gently, taking the fruit before chewing slowly while he sucks the stem once before it disappears in his mouth.

“I’m calling your bluff now. No one knows how to actually do that.” Daring him to prove you wrong he mutters a ‘watch me’ between his working teeth.

You don’t lose focus on the way his hand on your waist starts to wander, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the fat of your thigh while his tongue ties the stem like it’s easy. Jaw flexing with each twist of his tongue before he pushes it out to show you, a pleased look on his face when the small knot in the middle comes out perfectly placed.

Swiping it off his tongue with the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, you wonder if he can still taste you when he sets it next to your drink satisfied by the way your jaw drops.

“How do you think I got this job? I’m more than just a cute face.” The touch of his hands grows bolder when they start working their way up your dress, a thickness in the air that wasn’t there before filling your lungs.

“That’s quite the skill set you have there Mr. Munson,” your giggle is breathless, your eyes going from his down to his lips as you try to play it off.

“I can do more than that with my tongue sweetheart, if you wanna find out.” His nose nudges against yours, the smirk on his face making you sweat when his fingers trace up your wet folds again.

Surrendering instantly, you forget all about the drink the two of you made nodding without hesitation the desperation for him all night finally taking over.

“Yeah?” His voice breaks when his thick fingers push into your entrance again feeling just how worked up all his teasing had you.

“Please - Eddie,” the pad of his thumb finds your clit again making you beg, “Fuck.”

“Asking me so sweet, how could I say no to you?” Murmuring against your lips, he finally gives in and kisses you. Wet and sloppy he only does it long enough to take your breath away before dropping to his knees.

His big hands on your hips angle you to face forward, flipping your dress up over your ass again. The air of the bar is still hot against your folds, arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re fully exposed to him now. You hear him suck the skin of his teeth at the sight, a ringed hand coming down just hard enough on your right cheek to make it jiggle before both hands palm the fat.

“I can’t believe you were gonna let anybody else but me have this pussy. Should be a punishable offense.” Pulling your cheeks apart to expose more of you to his hungry eyes, he pushes at the small of your back signaling for you to bend over more for him.

He moans loud enough to make you jump when you listen to his command, even you can hear the sound of your lips pulling apart for him.

“All this for me, baby, fuck, you spoil me.” He wastes no time burying his face between your folds, his talented tongue collecting your juices before finding your clit. The rough hair on his chin rubbing your sensitive skin raw as he shakes his head from side to side.

Squeezing your ass to pull you closer to his face when you try to run away, he sucks your bundle of nerves harder when he gets you back to where he wants you, dipping his nose into your entrance every time.

He does the motions he would do when he ties the cherry stem into a knot against your clit, a strangled moan ripping from your throat when he does it again.

Your hands find purchase on the top of the bar, eyes closed tight while you see white behind your lids. Your nails dig into the wood when his tongue flattens, the lewd squelching of your arousal filling your ears when he pushes his face so deep between your legs you aren’t sure if he can even breathe. The moan that rumbles through his chest and vibrates to your core tells you he doesn’t care. Wrapping his lips tight around your clit he sucks even harder, not caring when your legs start to shake from overstimulation.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna - fuck!” His name comes out long and drawn out when you fall apart on his tongue. Relentless, his teasing never stops, his hands holding you up while your body starts to shake. Humming low in satisfaction against your cunt.

“I n- need, I need…” willing your eyes to open, your vision’s blurry from how hard he made you cum. Pulling away with a loud smack of his lips, he palms your ass cheeks before craning his neck to try and get a good look at you.

“What do you need, baby?” He nips at the curve of your right cheek before pressing his face to it, dazed from getting what he’s wanted all night completely content.

“I just, I just need you to fuck me,” you don’t recognize the choke in your voice when you whine for him. Whine for more.

“Jesus christ.” His words tickle against your skin when he groans, kneading the soft flesh of your ass one more time before standing up.

His hands are on your hips before you can fully register the change in position, spinning you around and lifting you up he sets you on top of the counter behind the bar. The one where drinks aren’t served and the one that’s low enough for Eddie to slot himself perfectly between your legs.

Eyes blown black while his beard and nose ring shine with your slick, his lips part - swollen and pink from pulling your first orgasm out of you. Bangs clinging to his forehead, his hair is a wild mess on top of his head from your hands. The confident air about him is gone, replaced with nothing but the need to have you. Snapping out of your daze, you’re quick to find the metal of his belt buckle.

His forehead presses to yours, while he watches the way your dainty fingers work the leather out through the loop. The white tips of your nails catch his eye when you undo the button of his jeans and his cock twitches at the thought of them pumping him for all he’s worth.

He hisses when you push the denim down his hips, his hard dick springing out to smack against his shirt that you immediately wish wasn’t there. Precum leaks from the angry looking pink tip while your hands fist the hem of the worn cotton, silently begging him to get rid of it. The big vein that follows the curve of his length makes your mouth water as he obliges your pleas, ripping his shirt off and throwing it somewhere you’d have to find later.

You’re able to really take all of him in like this, his chest is heaving covered with just as many tattoos as the rest of him, the silver chain you’d peeped earlier hanging right in the dip between his pecs. Your eyes follow the dark patch of hair that leads to his cock, long with the kind of girth that you know is going to be a stretch, a strangled whine bubbles out of you at the sight while your thighs spread begging for him.

“God, I want you so bad,” you whine wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him even closer giving into your animalistic instincts.

“I know baby, me fuckin’ too.” He pumps his cock a few times groaning loud, squeezing hard at the base before pressing the head between your dripping lips. Mesmerized at how they wrap around his tip, his precum mixes messy with your arousal making lewd noises as he sweeps it through your folds.

Body shaking every time he hits your clit, you finally hook your ankles growing impatient when he teases your entrance.

“Fuck. Me.” You get out through gritted teeth, the lopsided grin he’d been giving you all night turns cocky when he pushes the tip in, your head lulls back at the invasion, the silk of your walls desperate to start sucking him deeper.

“Not so sweet now are you, huh?” Pushing himself all the way in, his rough thatch of pubic hair hits your clit when he bottoms out. His confidence falters for a second when a deep moan rips through his chest at the feeling. “So fuckin’ tight baby - shit.”

Your nails dig half crescent moons into his inked skin while you adjust to his size, his nose skimming against your cheek while he whispers how good you take him when your walls start to milk him, your body letting him know it was okay to finally move.

“Feel so good, Eddie, fuck - so good.” Your hips start a slow rock, feeling every ridge and curve of him. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist giving a perfect view of the way you take him, and it’s even better than what his imagination had come up with all night.

He lets you use him for a minute, big hands resting on your waist — content with just watching the way you coat his cock with everything you have left over for him from the first time he made you cum.

“That feels good, huh?” Cooing at the way your brows knit together and your mouth falls open, he picks up the pace, taking control.

Pulling you all the way to the edge, his strokes get deeper, the tip of him hitting the spot that you know Craig would have never found. He pulls his cock out half way, relishing how your velvet walls try to keep him in place, he holds his composure before pushing back in, filling you to the brim. Addicted to the way it makes you gasp his name and arch your back, your body asks him for more when you’re too cock drunk to get the words out.

The straps of your dress start slipping down your shoulders with every thrust, your breasts bouncing just begging for his attention. His cock twitches inside you, it's almost too much. Greedy for more despite fighting the urge to cum, he tugs the front of your dress down to reveal a matching bra to the panties on the floor. Hips stuttering for a moment he growls at the reminder of your date before tugging the lace down, your nipple pebbling instantly for him before he takes it in the heat of his mouth.

Pushing yourself closer, needing more, your hands find their way to bury themselves in his curls, holding him close. You needed him close. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bud and it makes you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hips finding a way to match his strokes, reigniting the flames deep in your gut. God, he was gonna make you cum again.

He grunts around your breast, spit dripping down your soft skin from his ministrations while the snap of his hips start to get harsher and you know he’s nearing his end. He lets your nipple go with a loud pop before his hand comes up to grip your chin, his lips finding yours in a frantic mess of teeth and battling tongues.

The wood creaks underneath you from the force of his thrusts and the bounce of your ass to meet them. Mouths tangled, you swallow each other's ragged breaths, both of you desperately searching for your end when his fingers find your clit. Rubbing circles with just enough pressure to have your body start to shake against his, he nips at your bottom lip grunting when he feels the way it makes you flutter around him.

“Come on baby, give me another one. Be my sweet girl again and tell me how good I make you cum.” His fingers slip against your clit, fingers wet from how worked up he had you but his words are enough to have your world stop for a second.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Ed-“ Going blind behind your closed eyes he coaxes your second orgasm out of you with a silent scream falling onto his turned up lips. Proud of his work, his hips start picking up their pace inching closer to his own release he’d been fighting off since going down on you.

“God, - fuck I’m close - where d-do you-?” Sweat drips down his forehead while he struggles to find his words, his impending orgasm making him short circuit.

“Inside, shit - please, I need it, Eddie.” Still needy and barely coming down, your legs around his waist tighten their hold, locking him in place while you use the last of your strength to help get him there.

“Whatever you’re doing - holy shit , Jesus - I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His hips press hard against yours when his cock twitches, spilling warm inside your greedy walls that don’t stop asking him for more. His face hides in your neck, the heat of his breath fanning against your sweat kissed skin while his body shakes with his release.

The roll of your hips never stops, just slowing enough to make him shiver after he starts softening, spent inside of you. You know there’s a mess starting to drip but neither one of you has the energy to move just yet. His lips start leaving small kisses along your neck, nose nudging against the space behind your ear and you can feel his smile against your cheek before he finally lifts his head up. The brown in his eyes return to a warm auburn like before when they meet yours.

“Rick is gonna fucking kill me if he ever finds out what happened on this counter tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you snort at his joke before shoving against his chest.

“You’re telling me you don’t fuck all your cute customers behind the bar, Eddie?” Batting your lashes at him, he squeezes your hips with a smirk.

“Only, the really, really cute ones. I take them to get pancakes at IHOP around the corner, too.” Something shifts in his eyes and you think for a second you might see self doubt in them for the first time all night, “That is, if they still want to.”

“Well lucky for you, I only let bartender’s from The Foxy Lounge take me out.” Nudging your nose against his, your smile touches his lips.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m the only bartender here right?” Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, he quickly gets rid of the space between you, kissing you like it too.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #whatta man #my writing

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covenists · 6 months ago

Text

✦ IT GIVES YOU WINGS OR LOVE?, M. VERSTAPPEN

sometimes, the team that brought you in, could also gives you more opportunity to even meet your lover there.

taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee

yourusername

liked by redbull and 237,144 others

yourusername Woohoo !!! SO hyped to grab 🥈 at my first slopestyle World Cup since the 2022 Olympics. Genuinely had so much fun out there today. Congrats to everyone for the insane level of riding, and thank you, as always, to the supporters for all the love ❤️ A few areas need a bit of work still, but none more than my champagne skills 🥴

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yourusername

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yourusername Celebratory lunch + A lil hair touchup 😆

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username Ahem... No pic cred?

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maxverstappen1

liked by carlossainz55 and 472,580 others

maxverstappen1 Flexing master #TiffanyPartner #TiffanyHardwear

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yourusername I agreed to post here but what was the caption supposed to mean?

username It's giving Lily + Albon's dynamic

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redbullracing · 24m

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yourusername Truly enjoying my paddock debut here. Thank you ＠redbullracing for the invitation, definitely having much fun in Shanghai 🥰

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username Me and the bad bitch I pulled after being WDC:

username LILY GO BACK TO ALEX'S GARAGE

username Rb couple domination is real

username Max: 🧍

username you guys better believe when they said red bull enjoyer belong, they were.

lilymhe Why are you guys looks so stiff? 💀

yourusername Wait until I asked him to go skiing. Let's see how stiff he would be.

maxverstappen1 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

username Can't wait to see Max skiing with her. Wonder if his skiing skill has improved ever since he's with her.

username next stop: the alps

username Oh it's her paddock debut? I thought I have seen her attending gp in Ausgp?

username That time she wasn't his gf just yet

alexandrasaintmleux Ahhh your fit is so cutee <3

yourusername YOURS TOOOOO 🌹🥺

username QUEEN IS BACK IN TOWN, SLAYING AS USUAL

username Whys your paddock pass looks different from the rest of the WAGS?

yourusername I was invited by ＠redbullracing as a guest. So that's why mine's different 💁🏼‍♀️

username Why would they invite you as a guest when you're already his gf tho😂

username Can you stop asking?

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername and 463,197 others

maxverstappen1 Alps: Day 1 ⛷️

view all 1,638 comments

username Wait why is it different?

maxverstappen1 Sometimes, one of us played it harshly and losing the original glasses. So we bought it new.

username AND IT ISN'T YOU??!?? OMG

username Awwww if my relationship not this sweet, I don't want it.

username Y/N WITHOUT HER RB STICKER HELMET AND ATTRIBUTES??? WOWOWOW

username mother and father🥴🥴🥴

username They're cute asf

carlossainz55 What a good day for a ski couples

username probably i should drink red bull to have someone like them

danielricciardo Who wins?

yourusername We're both... Losing, actually

danielricciardo I KNEW IT

yourusername

liked by schecoperez and 157,839 others

yourusername Turns out, he's not that bad of a skier too.

view all 2,630 comments

maxverstappen1 Hey, I don't look like that

maxverstappen1 How could you do this after I posted out sweet moments yesterday

maxverstappen1 What is this betrayal

username Alright Granny, let's get you to bed

username WHO'S THAT ON THE SECOND SLIDEEEEEE

charles_leclerc What was that outfits 😂😂

yourusername Don't say as if your fits were not like that

charles_leclerc Mine's fashionable, sorry.

lilymhe Fashionable just for leo's eyes

username i love how contrast their posts are. ah soulmate

username I want what they're having toooooo

username His digital footprints is something that I have to go for a dig

username Well apparently the both of them were losing

username says who?

username Daniel and Y/n on Max's post

username I know they were never gonna be the best at competing at each other

username if their relationship was really a pr, i don't believe it

863 notes · View notes

taylormarieee · 19 days ago

Text

~A hunter's first love~

A dean winchester drabble

Summary: You were dean's first love, yeah I know it's hard to believe with every girl he's been with but you... you were different from the rest, here's you guy's story...

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: dean winchester x hunter!reader

Warnings: kissing, mentions of death, mentions of blood, typical supernatural stuff, dean confessing, angst, a argument, dean being a bit of a jerk, a lil actual smut, piv sex, dean himself, trauma dumping, also reader isn't a hunter in the beginning but closer to the end she is.

A/N: I've been meaning to post this one for awhile but it's just been an idea in the back of my head. I NEED to write for dean more, and I swear I will, my word is my bond guys even tho sometimes i don't commit, ntm on me tho, love y'all and enjoy!

You were dean's very first love. Yea he had that chick in highschool but there were always chicks digging him in high school.

didn't mean he loved them. dean never did meeting parents and saying I love you. he was a cold kid that broke everything.

distanced himself from the people who needed him most. the exceptions were sammy and you.

something about you was special, something about you made dean's heart ache. it made him feel things that he usually would never feel.

he met you when sammy had went off to college to do his own thing. he was proud of sammy but he felt alone. yes of course he had his dad but there were nights where dad would always be gone and dean was left to handle himself.

but that was before you. during you, when he met you in the bar for the very first time, you looked like you were having a hellish day.

"bad day?" he asks as he slides into the barstool, drink in hand. you chuckle and look at him. your eyes widen a bit at how attractive he is.

"y-yea, s-something like that." you stutter as you take another sip of your brandy. after that you both kinda just hit it off.

laughing and having deep genuine conversations. he told you his name and you told him yours. he even offered you a ride back home to which you gladly accepted.

"thank you for the ride dean, I really appreciate it." you thank him and then get ready to walk up the stairs to your apartment but you pause.

"would you like to come inside? I just feel bad for making you take me home and then not offering you anything to sober you up a little. just come inside, please?" you ask.

he smiles and nods. "yea yea sure, i'd love to come inside." he says with a smirk on his face when he stands next to you.

"must you ruin the moment?" you hit him playfully as you chuckle.

"hell yea!" he exclaims with a chuckle as well. you unlock the door to your apartment and step inside. it's not the best but it's enough for you and it was simple and modern and you loved it.

dean seemed to have loved it too, to him though, it was very old-schooled. very 90's. you had these cute posters and paintings on walls. little records piled up on the coffee table.

it was adorable. it was very you. you had an electric guitar on a stand next to your tv in the living room and you had all your favorite rock band cd's splayed everywhere on the couch.

"just gimme a sec, I didn't exactly expect company." you say shyly.

"oh no, your totally fine. I dig it. AC/DC? I love it." he says pointing at the band poster framed up on your wall.

"oh that's old, my dad gave it to me, I basically grew up listening to many rock bands. guns n roses, AC/DC, Metallica, yk the goodies." you smile up at dean.

"that poster was actually signed by the entire band when my dad got a backstage pass. He was so happy til the day he died." you say staring at the poster with a smile on your face.

"guessing he got the best day mug when you were a kid huh?" he says with a smile.

you laugh and shake your head. "yea actually, I did get him one for his birthday one year, he had the proudest smile ever when he saw Axl Rose's signature on it." you smile.

"wow, you were the best daughter." he exclaims.

"I mean I tried to be. my mom split when I was eight and that took a huge chunk outta my dad's heart. so I slowly had to rebuild it back again. I missed seeing him happy. It was just me n him, no point in trying to make life harder than it already was." you explain.

"Yea I get that. your better than me. see when I was little me, my mom, my dad? we were the happiest family. and then when my baby brother was born, I was so happy! but uhm a few months after he was born my uh my mom died. then it was just me my dad and sammy." he explains.

"that was hard for all of us. even harder for sammy considering he never even got to talk to his mother. my dad was hard on me and sammy growing up. I of course was always the lash out kid, constantly angry, never liking how he acted or did stuff. then of course that anger when out to sam because I couldn't yell at my dad, I was 10." he continues.

you hum to let him know your still listening and you grab him some water and prop it on the coffee table in front of you two.

"thanks. but yea, sammy never really understood why we always moved, never stayed in one place too long until he got tired of it. tired of that lifestyle. now he's in college and he's thriving, my dad on the other hand, he's avoiding me any chance he gets but hey, I would avoid me too if I was him. I break everything I touch." he finishes, taking a long gulp of his water.

you both sit in silence for a second and dean looks at you, hoping you say something other than "get out of my house."

"oh dean, I'm so sorry. no child should ever have to go through that. and I can assure you dean, you don't break everything you touch, I'm here and see! I'm not broken, i'm standing ten toes behind you." you says with a smile.

"I hunt monsters for a living with my dad. and we kill them so they can't ahrm people anymore." he blurted out randomly. he wanted to push you away, because he was falling in love with you too quickly. he wanted you to see him as scary.

your eyes widen. you pause. your hand is still on his arm and his thigh. you blink once, then twice. your jaw opens to say something but closes again.

"speak now, scream now, curse me out or forever hold your peace and i'll leave." he says.

you immediately spoke not wanting him to leave. "don't leave. I'm just a little shocked is all. do you and your dad really do that? does your brother know?" you ask.

"Why do you think he went off to college, to live a normal life like the rest of you." dean says.

"wow. uhm that's a lot to take in. thank you for telling me. there are parts of me that don't believe you, but i'm going to trust my heart. I believe you dean. you're a hero."

"I'm not a hero, i'm a monster." he says.

"you save people dean, how is that you being a monster." you counter.

"because it's almost like i enjoy it, the thrill."

"ok but heros i'm sure enjoy the thrill as well."

"That's not the same thing sweetheart I-"

"Why can't you just accept that your not a monster."

"because I lived with this my whole life ok? I am a monster."

"ok, but you help people, how do monsters do that? how is that YOU being a monster?"

"Because I just am!" he shouts at you. you gasp and scoot away from him.

"oh, i'm sorry. I won't bring it up."

"for fuck's sake, I'm sorry sweetheart. I-I didn't mean to shout at you, i'm sorry. c'mere." he says.

you scoot back to him and he wraps your body in a hug.

"what are you so scared of dean? If your brother can live a normal life, why can't you? why do you think you don't deserve a happy ending?" you ask.

you look up at him with puppy dog eyes and he folds immediately. he kisses the top of your head and smiles down at you.

"you really think I'm a good person? you truly believe I could have a happy ending?'" he asks.

"If I didn't think so, would I have bickered with you about it like a toddler?" you ask with a chuckle.

he laughs.

"I guess not."

you both stare at each other for a good 2 minutes before you look down at his lips. he looks at you and stares at your lips as well.

you lean up closer to his face, your noses touching. he closes his eyes, waiting for it to happen. he of course wasn't prepared for his mind's decision to pull away.

"I have to go sweetheart. I'm sorry." he says as he pulls away from you. he can't bare to look at you as he stands up from the couch but he does it anyway and his heart sinks.

your pouting. god why must you look so good when you pout. "oh, please stay dean, I don't want to be alone. and I don't think you do either." you say standing up and grabbing his hand.

"just spend the night, and then in the morning you can leave, just don't leave without saying goodbye." you say pointing a finger at him.

"ok sweetheart, I won't." he says with a smile. "good." you respond with a smile as well.

"now, I have one more gift for you." you say with a smirk on your face.

"Oh really, what is it? it better be pie." he says with a chuckle. you roll your eyes playfully as you pull him towards you bedroom.

"i mean it'll be some kind of pie if you want it to be? but it's also much better than pie." you say seductively.

"mhmmm" he groans, "I like the sound of where this is going.

he runs his hands down your waist as you drag him towards you bed. you shrug off his jacket and he grabs your ass once his jacket is on the floor and goes straight for your jeans buttons.

"please kiss me already dean, I need you." you beg.

his lips are smashed on to yours immediately after your request. guess dean couldn't wait any longer either.

you tug at his shirt and he pulls it off. you take your shirt off as well and that's when dean pushes you on to the bed. you grab at his road shoulders and scratch at his back.

he nips at your neck leaving little sweet kisses after. you were so having hickeys afterwards.

he smashes his lips against yours again and you bite his lip. he groans at the feeling and you release his lip but he can taste the blood on his lip.

he licks his lips and looks at you. "you tryin to devour me huh?" he asks with a smirk.

"Maybe?" you ask with mimicking smirk on your face. he kisses you again and you moan in his mouth. god he lives for your noises.

"do that again." he demands. he kisses down your neck looking for that spot that makes you reel. you moan in his ear again and he physically fights the urge not to shove his fingers in you ight now.

his cock painfully aching in his boxers. you both roll around and moan in each others ears. you tug on his hair and he tugs on yours.

he inhales your scent and he feels like he's on cloud 9.

you were amazing. even more amazing when he first entered inside you. god you were so fucking tight. so delicious. so enticing.

you were pulling him in and he was hitting all the right spots to make you scream his name like a mantra, like a prayer.

you loved the feeling of his fat cock inside you. it made you feel euphoric. no one has ever made you feel this way, dean hit every spot. he made you cry and scream and feel so good.

you needed him. you desired every bit of him. he's the man you daydream about, the one you read tumblr fics about.

you feel your orgasm approaching and dean feels his but he solely his focused on making you feel good. sadly that doesn't work because he's struggling to not cum inside you.

"it's ngh- ok dean. please cum inside me, I want it so bad. please." you beg him and he loses it. he kisses you one last time before he releases inside you, still thrusting and over stimulating himself just to make you feel good.

you eventually cum around his cock as well, feeling so good. you arch into him and tug on his hair really hard he groans. he moans into your ear as he lets out the last spurts of his cum into your stoamch.

he rearranged your guts like no other before and you loved how it made you feel dean winchester makes you feel alive. he makes you feel like yourself.

dean pulls out of you and lays right behind you. you cuddle into him throwing your leg over his to tangle up in his warmth.

he smiles to himself and you kiss him again as you both fall asleep. dean couldn't stop thinking about you. and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

he's your saviour. your hero. your perfect man. your first love.

your his daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love.

It's been a year now and you and dean are thriving. he calls you every day and every night when he's on a hunt.

you even got to meet his brother. you comforted him when his dad died and you even let them stay at your place whenever they were in town.

two years go by and you and dean are on a little break. he said that he didn't feel like he could give you what you wanted and asked if he could take a break from the relationship to give him some time to think.

you didn't know he slept with an old fling and it broke your heart when sam told you.

you went on hunting alone. you met bobby on a hunt and he treated you well. he made sure you were safe.

four years go by and you meet dean again, you never blocked him and he called from time to time. sometimes you'd answer other times, you'd not even give him the time of day.

you looked at dean and realized he hasn't aged a day, if anything he looked more mature, he looked just as good as the last time you saw him.

his voice deeper and still demanding. you hug him and he tells you how much he's missed you. you missed him just as much.

he told you he was sorry and you forgave him. you forgave him a long time ago. he offered to try again and you agreed.

the three of you went hunting together like a family and it was fun. but one night you decided to play hero.

"dean, I once told you you deserved a happy ending, that you weren't a monster." you say quickly while panting.

"yea babe, but why? why are you saying this?" he asked his glossy eyes staring back at you.

"you know I love you right?" you tell him.

"I love you too sweetheart, now tell me what's wrong?!" he shouts.

you hear the footsteps of the vampire and you look at sam and dean.

"babe, it's my turn to be a hero ok? you go on without me. you live your life and you find your happy ending. I love you both so much." you say holding the both of their hands.

"Now run." you say.

you shoot at the vampire and it rushes towards you choking you. you try to fight it off but it stabs you in the stomach and you scream out.

Sam runs to rescue you and dean screams for you. the vampire throws you off to the side and bloods seeping out of your mouth and wound. dean runs to your limp body on the floor and he cradles you in his arms.

sam quickly runs back over the vampires body on the ground with a wooden stake in it's heart and it's head cut off.

you try to speak but dean shushes you.

"no no baby don't speak i'm gonna get you help ok, y-your- fuck your gonna live ok. SON OF A BITCH! baby please don't die on me, I love you please please please." he cries.

"i-i love you too, my sweet hero." your last words before your eyes shut and your no longer moving.

he says your name and sam checks for a pulse. he looks at dean and shakes his head no. dean shakes you and screams your name some more but no response.

he sits there and cries with sam by his side crying as well.

you were dean's daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love and the last one he ever loved. the one he couldn't save.

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling @sammyluvr @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess @bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi @keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a @nuemanfilms + anyone else who wants to join

#my man <3 #dean supernatural #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #taylor writes<3 #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester supernatural

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ginkgo-phyta · 9 months ago

Note

I'm back again 😅

Hopefully, I'm not the only person with this opinion, but how do you think Spencer would react if his significant other told him that they thought he looked hot with his bulletproof vest on? 👀

omg is this injured spencer request anon?? I NEED TO KNOW im so sorry if it's not tho, whoever you are thank you so much for coming back!! i love you with all my heart you should use a special emoji as like ur own lil signature! :D

okay so i wanted to try blurb(?) format but mmm okay not really cuz just a wall of text was stressing me out but this is def more informal than my other work (look no capital letters!) and because i love you so much i present two scenarios for you :P... i cant fight this feeling anymore guys he rlly is so hot in his vest im becoming my most feral self grrrrr RAH RAH ALRIGHT hope you enjoy, my love!

OKAY SO SPENCER REACTING TO YOU TELING HIM HE'S HOT IN HIS FBI VEST gn! reader, fluff, second scenario a little steamy in tone but nothing explicit just h*rny vibes, no other warnings

if you weren't a profiler: you'd never thought about it before- spencer in his bulletproof vest. sure, you knew that his job required him to go into sticky situations where the prospect of gunfire was imminent and he would have to wear proper equipment, but you never put two nd two together. you never even thought of a kevlar vest as something that could be hot...until you saw a picture of him wearing it.

"what the hell is that." you blurt out, voice serious with hints of concern.

"huh?" spencer's as clueless as ever, a little worried about your reaction. he was just showing you random photos his team members had taken over the years, all printed out for easy viewing courtesy of the ever-so-accommodating penolope garcia. someone had taken a pic of a beautiful lake where the bau had saved yet another victim, the sun dipping below the horizon line of pine trees, painting the sky purple and pink. "um...the sunset?" spencer was confused, "i guess maybe it was kinda a weird time to take a photo, but no one was hurt and we caught the unsub and the sky really did look-"

you cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand, eyes never leaving the photo in front of you, "no, no...what's that." you point to what you were talking about, a figure standing off to the side.

spencer takes a minute, becoming even more bewildered "...me?" in that moment your world changed.

"oh my god... "you whispered in a daze, firmly pulling the picture out of spencer's fingers and into your own, "what...what are you wearing?"

"honey what's wrong? it's just my bulletproof vest. i know it might look a little funny, but it, y'know, keeps me alive..." he scratches the back of his neck. a couple seconds of silence pass, but to spencer it feels excruciatingly long.

"spencer," you look at up at him deadpan "you look so fucking hot." to say your boyfriend was shocked would be an understatement.

he was absolutely blown away by your response, so much so that the way his face contorted looked borderline disgusted. "wha-what?? huh? what?" he clamored, eyes flitting over your face to find any sign you were joking.

"seriously, baby, you look so good. oh, my God!!" you almost shriek, gripping the picture tighter, the widest, dumbest grin pulling up your cheeks as you giggle like a schoolgirl.

spencer smiles at your reaction, still a little perplexed "you really think so?" the notion begins to sink into his bones, making him giddy.

you very enthusiastically nod your head, "are there any more pictures of you like this?" you rip the rest of the photos out of spencer's hands, scouring through them at light speed. out of nowhere, spencer laughs out loud, his nose scrunching in delight.

"i...don't know what to say. i'm flattered you think that," a wonderful blush shimmers over his cheeks, "but no i don't think there are. sadly." he playfully adds.

you stop all movements, slowly turning towards him, suspiciously calm. "well then," you grab your phone and suddenly stand up "looks like i'll just have to ask penelope for some!"

"wait! wait, no!" spencer calls after you as you start speed-walking away, your shirt barely escaping his fingertips. he yells out your name, his serious tone interrupted by a giggle of his own as he begins chasing you, "get back here!" he knows: garcia can never ever find out about this...

if you were a profiler: you had seen spencer don his FBI branded bulletproof vest hundreds of times over the years. although you had pined over him for years and were now finally in a relationship with him, seeing him like that didn't make you feel any type of way really. sure, you thought he looked strong and handsome, but most of the time you were too caught up in the case or situation at hand to focus on how he looked. until now. something had shifted in him in the last few months, not just with his ever-changing haircut, but within the way he held himself; more confident, more sure of himself, even more cocky, if you will. whatever it was, it drew your eyes to him in his tight little vest like a lightbulb draws in moths- instantly and continuously. it all came to a head when you caught the unsub responsible for drowning and resuscitating his victims until they couldn't be brought back to life. spencer dove into the lake with emily to apprehend the killer while you had helped the kid he had hostage reunite with his mother. you smiled at the scene in front of you, the teenager running into his mother's shaking arms, her holding him close in a tight embrace. another good ending, you thought to yourself before turning back to watch your fellow profilers make the arrest. suddenly, you mouth goes dry. there spencer reid stood; soaking wet, clothes sticking to his skin, chest rising and falling as he panted to catch his breath, his hand pushing his wet hair out of his face. and that stupid, goddamn kevlar vest. oh, fuck. the others walked away from the dock to situate everyone and themselves in respected vehicles that sat back on the road a few hundred feet away from where you currently were. as spencer moved to follow behind emily, hands trying to flick the water off of him, your gaze stopped him in his tracks. he stood there, a bit confused as to why you were walking towards him, seemingly entranced, instead of beelining behind everyone else.

he spoke out your name, but you remained silent, stopping just a couple feet away from him. you took him in one more time: the way his shirt became translucent, granting you with peeks of his skin; his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms; the way his soaked pants choked his thick thighs. you became woozy with desire. spencer watched as your eyes dragged over his figure, drinking in every inch of his dripping body. "oh, baby..." you voice drawled out as soon as your gaze landed on his bulletproof vest, "you're absolutely soaking wet." spencer's eyebrows shot up his forehead at the suggestive twinkle in your timbre. you approached him further, chest just inches away from his. if he wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, he would have been a bit more cautious of lingering teammates. your hands came up to ghost over his vest, "did i ever tell you how good i think you look in this?" you looked up at him through your lashes.

spencer chuckled, "in the bulletproof vest?" you nodded in response, but spencer still couldn't really believe it. "uh, no, actually, you haven't." his eyes glinted at the way you bit your lip, his hands moving on their own accord to rest on your hips. you could feel droplets of water seep into the material and lick your skin, but you didn't give a rat's ass.

"well, you do." you whisper, hands wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to press a kiss to his lips, "really, really good." your mouth moves enticingly with his.

"oh? is that so?" he whispers against your lips, diving back in, his fingers digging in your hips. he graciously kisses you for a moment before it dawns on him that you're both still at work- in an active crime scene, at that. "mmh, mmh!" he vocalizes between kisses as he tries to move his head back a smidge. his eyes peak open just enough to see if anyone else was around. your lips are addicting, rendering him unable to fully tell you to stop, unable to fully pull away himself. he's relieved when he spots no one. still, he know this is far from appropriate. spencer's hands move up your body to wrap around your wrists behind him, pulling them away from him and the same time he pulled away from you, "okay, okay!" he breathes out with a chuckle, "i believe you now" he tries to catch his bearings, but your pouting face causes him to laugh again

"spencerrrr," you groan at the loss of your beloved's kisses and he turns you around and pushes you towards the spot where the others vanished, walking behind you with his hands on your shoulders, your body held at an arm's distance.

"let's go, angel." his words brought out a hmph! from you. "we can do more of that later at home" he whispers, leaning in ever-so-slightly.

you turn your head back to get a glimpse of him, your eyes and smile equally wide with excitement, "can you bring the vest with you?!"

A/N: OKAYYYY lemme stop myself before things get filthy LOL do yall know which episode im referring to in the second scenario? that end scene will always get me my eye are GLUED to spencer the entire time GODDAMN. okay anyway i hope you liked this anon!!! pls tell me yalls thoughts <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds fic

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Geto's sister melting like butter in Toji's hands

Pairing: Geto's sister x Toji; (Geto's sister x Geto brother dynamic; Geto's sister x Satoru lil flirt)

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When your brother and Satoru arrive at Jujutsu High with the star plasma vessel, things start to get heated. But instead of running away like you're told to, you follow your brother. Only to be alone with a certain someone...

Warnings: we're talking about Toji so the usual, (y/n) is ducking weak in this one, not 100% proofread bc I'm lazy

„Where is your smaller version?“, Yaga barks at Suguru.

“My smaller version? You mean (y/n)?”

“Hehe, sounds like she’s your child”, Satoru comments while giggling.

“I guess she’s training right now. And also, she’s older than me. Why?”

Suguru was never keen about you joining Jujutsu High in the first place. But the second you realized that you are able to see courses just like him, there was no going back. It’s only natural that he’s worried about you, right? Especially when he and Satoru were sent here to guard the star plasma vessel…What do you have to do with this? Isn’t his teacher aware of the fact how dangerous this mission is for a first year student?

“Get her here right now.”

Urgh, this doesn’t mean anything good. Does he have any chance to escape this though? With a sign he gets moving. Nope, a glimpse into Yaga’s serious eyes is enough to get that he doesn’t stand a chance against his will.

Why you, though? Yes, you are quite skilled for being in your first year, but so are Haibara and Nanami. So why does it have to be you? What does this man have in mind for you?

“Got ya!”, you cry out while Yu’s body lands on the floor harshly.

“How did you beat me again?”, he presses out, rubbing his aching head.

“Because you weren’t paying enough attention”, Kento remarks dryly with that signature bored expression craved into his face.

“I think (y/n) is just a way too great opponent for me.”

“Oh, don’t make be blush.”

“(y/n).”

That voice that makes you instantly roll your eyes without even turning around. What the hell is your brother doing here again?

“What do you want?”, you groan.

“Yaga-sensei sent me after you. I guess you are assigned for a mission”, Suguru replies, completely unimpressed by your snarky attitude.

A mission? Your head darts towards him immediately. A mission with Suguru? He is on his second year, more than skilled enough to fulfill even difficult missions on his own. So why would Yaga-sensei ask about you and not Yu or Kento?

You don’t care that much to be honest. The thought of going on an important mission alone makes your body tremble in excitement. Even if it means your brother has to accompany you.

“Will Satoru be there too?”, you purr.

It’s way too fun to mess with your brother. When it comes to men, he always widens his eyes in disgust before crossing his arms and glaring down at you.

“Don’t get stupid ideas. I hate that you are flirting with my best friend”, he remarks.

“It’s not my fault that he looks so damn fine.”

“Stop the crap”, he spits at you while you smile widely.

Oh, how much you love to mess with your big brother. Since he is your only sibling, you take your responsibility of teasing the heck out of him very seriously. Especially now that you are living the same life.

“There she is”, Suguru mutters, your figure appearing behind is tall frame with a triumphal smile.

“Hi Satoru”, you hush towards the white haired boy who smirks at you.

“Hi (y/n), looking good as always”, he flirts back, sliding down his sunglasses to catch a better glimpse at you.

“Can you two please stop before I’m losing it”, Suguru grumbles.

“I agree. (y/n), you will assist these idiots by escorting the star plasma vessel to Tengen-sama.”

You can’t believe your ears, cheeky mouth not daring to speak of. Assisting both Satoru and Suguru at once? By escorting the star plasma vessel of none other than Tengen-sama?

This has to be a dream, a stupid joke they play on you. Yes, you are a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer, maybe better than the other first years at this point…

But are you this good? So good that you are able to keep up with Satoru and your brother?

“This is something very big you’re asking for”, you reply automatically, all eyes darted towards you.

Damn, this doesn’t sound like your usual confident self at all, even Suguru doesn’t recognize you. Without hesitation he steps to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder gently while beaming you with his smile.

“Satoru and me are here, too. You are the backup plan if something goes wrong.”

“And nothing will go wrong. Don’t worry (y/n)”, Satoru adds.

Yes, nothing will go wrong, right?

- the arrival of Suguru and Satoru at Jujutsu High –

“You sure took your time getting here”, you comment dryly, on the brink of falling asleep at the entrance of Jujutsu High.

“Oh my, you look like death warmed over”, you holler towards Satoru.

Damn, you thought they went on paid vacation without you. Why the hell does he look this bad? The dark circles under your brother’s eyes tell you how stressful these last day have been.

“You’re safe now. No need to waste your energy anymore, Satoru”, you speak out.

And with that, the glow in his eyes is gone.

Just seconds before he gets stabbed by a stranger.

Your eyes widen when reality hits you. A dagger pierced through Satoru’s chest.

The Satoru Gojo.

Your brother’s best friend.

Your gaze darts towards the tall man behind him. Who the hell is this guy? And how was he even able to get through the barrier in the first place? You hold your breath, mind racing in thoughts. This has to be a bad joke.

“Satoru!”, your brother cries out, on the way to sprint forward before he is stopped by his best friends words.

Save the star plasma vessel.

Escort her to Tengen-sama.

“I’m coming with you”, you breathe out, following your brother’s steps right on track.

“No way in hell. You go back where you came from, (y/n)”, he hisses.

What? He can’t be serious, right?

“Yaga-sensei put me here to help you escort the star plasma vessel. What makes you so entitled that you think you can just send me off like that?”

Your brother turns around, eyes glistening with so much rage that you have to swallow. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, storming towards you without slowing down.

“This isn’t a joke, (y/n). If that man was able to break through the barrier and hurt Satoru, he sure as hell is able to kill you right on the spot. Get out of here right now, I couldn’t stand losing you”, he barks into your face along with grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“Fine”, you mumble.

With one last spiteful glance at you he’s gone, taking the girl and the woman with him.

That man.

Your eyes dart towards him and the way his muscles flex underneath his tight black shirt, showing every single vein of his well-trained body. How old is he? Must be in his 20s, hard to say when he’s moving so fast that you aren’t even able to follow his movements properly. It’s safe to say that he’s looking like a snack, though. So different from all the guys you’ve met at Jujutsu High.

“Get out of here, (y/n)!”, Satoru yells at you, ripping you out of your daydreaming so violently that you flinch.

Urgh, how unfair. First you get assigned with this job and now you are supposed to stay out of line?

No, certainly not.

With a swift motion you start to run away. Not in direction of Jujutsu High, but following after your brother’s scent. After all, Satoru will get this man down easily, will he?

What a shame about his pretty face, though.

You stop in a long and poor lit hallway, tingling senses telling you that something or rather someone is behind you.

Could it be Satoru? No, you can not only detect his scent, but recognize him by his long and slouchy steps. Whoever this is doesn’t belong to Jujutsu High. But why on earth would a stranger come here?

“You’re in the way, y’know.”

That voice. Your eyes widen instantly when he steps out of the shadows, well-trained figure lit up ever so slightly.

It’s him, the man from before. The gorgeous man who fought Satoru only a few minutes ago.

“You came here to see me?”

To your very own surprise, your sturdy voice doesn’t give any hint of the panic flooding your veins. Why the hell is he here? Does this mean that…

Satoru lost?

“You’re pretty easy on the eye, gotta give you that”, the unknown man in front of you remarks with a sly grin.

You seem to be pretty young, uniform telling him that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. But that look in your eyes, the color of your hair…

“Have I seen ya before?”, he questions.

“Unfortunately not”, you purr.

You begin to circle each other, like a predator he lingers over you.

Something about the way he carries himself tells you that he isn’t someone to mess with, the darkness in his eyes almost swallowing you whole. Yes, this man is bad news even though you can’t detect any cursed energy on him.

“Oh, you look like that guy before…What was his name again?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother”, you clarify briefly.

“Ah, gotcha. Where did he go? I need to kill that brat he has with him.”

“Why chasing after him when you can stay with me instead?”

You know it’s reckless, that the man in front of you could possibly kill you without flinching. But every precious second you are able to negotiate for Suguru is important right now.

He comes closer, his tall frame roaming over you while you shamelessly stare at his gorgeous, yet bloody chest. Damn, this man really is attractive. Why do your knees suddenly feel so weak?

“I’m no one to mess with”, he remarks.

Your back hits the cold wall behind you, his muscular arms trapping you in place. Fuck, this is so hot.

No, this is absolutely dangerous.

“I know”, you breathe out.

His eyes linger over you, the little scar on over his lips twitches in amusement. One look into your glossy orbs is enough for Toji to be aware of the fact how unexperienced you are. Even though you try to straighten your shoulders and keep eye contact with him, he can see the way your limbs are trembling and how your knees are about to give in. You look young, maybe a few years younger than himself. And your body…he can tell you are trained underneath that uniform. After all you are a jujutsu sorcerer, right?

A little playing doesn’t hurt as long as he’s able to kill that little brat.

“Aren’t ya a little young to get killed? Wouldn’t take me much to do so. Killed that Gojo guy too.”

His words hit you with full force.

He.

He killed Satoru.

“That’s impossible”, you whisper.

No one was ever capable of killing Satoru. No, this can’t be true, he has to mess with you. Satoru is the strongest along with Suguru, the gifted child.

He…he can’t be dead.

But why isn’t he here then? How is it even possible for this force of a man to stand in front of your very own eyes if he’s lying? Satoru would have chased him down, fulfilled his mission no matter what…No, this can’t be…

“Can show ya. I mean it’s quite nasty, but if you want-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? Stand here and wait until he gets bored? Fight him?

You clench your hands into fist. One swift motion. One swift motion of your fist should be enough to send him flying.

“Cute”, he comments, catching your hand mid-air with ease.

Fuck. Ice cold sweat runs down your neck. This man is a menace. There’s no way in hell you are able to defeat him.

Suddenly he pulls you closer to him, the heat radiating from his body seems to burn right through your soul.

“Who the hell are you?”, you mutter.

“Toji Fushiguro”, he remarks.

Toji Fushiguro. You never heard his name before and the fact that you can’t detect any cursed energy on him tells you that he isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y’know, didn’t think I’d meet a hot girl down here”, Toji comments, amusement sparkling in his eyes when catching a glimpse of the blush creeping up your beautiful face.

Oh god, you feel like fainting with his tall frame lingering over you so unpromising. Despite being around gorgeous men all the time, no one ever caught your eye enough to be this close to him.

But this man…You shouldn’t like the way his touch brushes over your skin, making every fiber of your being shiver in excitement. No, you should tear yourself away from his grip, fight him, kill him. You are a jujutsu sorcerer, Toji Fushiguro killed Satoru and is on his way to kill the star plasma vessel and who knows even your brother. This is so wrong, him touching and teasing you shouldn’t cloud your senses.

“Be as charming as you want, I can’t forgive you for killing Satoru.”

He tilts his head to the side, a playful grin playing around is lips as one of his hands wraps around your neck, pressing gently.

“What a bummer, thought we’d have a good time here”, he replies.

Oh god, what happened to your self-control, what happened to your self-consciousness? You can’t act like a horny teenager only because a handsome man is touching you.

What’s going on in your beautiful mind? Seems like you’re lost at words. It’s nothing new to Toji that women fall head over heels for him, especially the ones who are into guys like him. But you look so innocent, that spark of determination in your eyes gone with the wind. Yes, you are like butter in his hands. The things he could do to you right now, showing you just how much of a man he is.

“You’ve probably never been with a man, huh?”

You stare up at him in disbelief. How did he know? Your heart hammers violently against your ribcage, mind not able to produce a single logical thought. He is so near that you’d be able to touch his broad chest ever so slightly. And the way his fingers press against your neck…

You’re doomed.

“Thought so. How’s it that a hot girl like you didn’t get it yet? Could show ya how it’s done with my very own hands...”

“I know what you’re doing. But I can’t let you get through this door, you can’t reach my brother”, you whine more to yourself than him.

Huh, that’s why he was here. Toji signs to himself, already aroused by the way you blush and whimper under his touch. How much he’d love to just stay here and show you how it’s done. To see your eyes roll into your brain in pleasure, how you squirm under his merciless touch.

But he’s got a job to do.

“What’s your name?”, he purrs against your outer ear, making shivers run down your spine like waterfalls.

“(y/n) Geto…”

“(y/n)”

Your own name sounds so strange coming out of his dangerous mouth.

“I promise I won’t kill your brother, but I gotta go now. Hope to see ya again. Sleep well.”

Before you can react any further, his flat hand rams itself into your throat that you get consumed by darkness immediately, numb body falling against Toji’s firm figure.

Carefully, he lifts you up and carries your body with him, casually placing you over his broad shoulder with your head hanging down his back.

“Now let’s get to work”, he mumbles, smacking your ass slightly.

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thecynthh · 10 months ago

Text

a little ink - C.S

summery - y/n is journaling in bed but chris gets bored of his phone and begins to play around with y/n's stationary.

notes - fluff <33333, chris is so boyfriend, i thought the fandom needed more fluff, short

a/n - hey yall, this is an apology gift because ive been bad on being active and writing so enjoy this lil thing i whipped up.

——————————————————————————

i stationed myself on my side of the large bed with a little tray table on top of my bare legs. my shorts barely covered up to my mid thigh so the vent near me was absolutely chilling. i begin to go slowly when i'm trying to write a title for my next page, i began to journal when my boyfriends brother and my therapist recommended it to me, despite how simple matt’s was, I thought i could take it up a notch and make it a little cutesy.

my pencil case was jam packed with highlighters, colourful pens and high quality markers, my concentration stays strict on the page in front of me, i tried to keep my penmanship neat while i'm trying to write something in cursive. a warm hand wraps around my ankles as i look down beside me seeing chris look at me with want in his eyes. “hi chris,” i simply say looking at the boy while i put the cap back onto my brush tip marker.

“hi baby,” he looks up at me with a beaming bright smile, he just radiates good energy and love. he drops his phone beside him now playing a song instead of the various audios from tiktok.

his hand sneaks up into my pencil case grabbing a yellow marker from it. he uncaps it and i feel the light pressure of it press down onto my skin, the yellow marker glides along my scar, he continues to draw past it to make a star out of the previously hurt skin. chris knew i was self conscious about my scars, it was a permanent reminder of the pain i went through in highschool.

he didn’t care though. he continued to draw random doodles on my leg, moving on to my arms where more scars lay hurt, he switched out his marker for a different colour the more he explored. little hearts, stars and chris’ signature riddle my legs and arms, i feel his writing getting a bit faster. It looks like a sentence but i couldn’t quite read it.

i stopped what i was doing a long time ago, now just admiring what he was doing. he was so focused on writing his signature on the larger line of a scar i had on my arm using the line from my body to represent the line through the dollar sign he always made whenever he wrote his name.

he does a very magnificent heart beside his name, filling it in still trying to be very soft on my skin as the ink seeps in. he plants a fulfilling kiss onto the scar now covered in orange ink, he looks up at me with a little bit of a knowing look painted on his face. “im sorry, it was only meant to be a little ink but your scars are beautiful, as is the rest of you.” his finger underlines the sentence imprinted on my skin as he reads it out.

“chris i'm gonna cry oh my gosh. you are so cute, you know that?” i saw trying to hold back a sob.

a chuckle escapes his smiley lips “i love you so much y/n” his lips make contact with the star that started the rest of the pseudo tattoos. i wish i could keep this image in my head forever, because this was a moment too precious to let go of.

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem73

#sturniolo triplets #syn speaks #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

hey!! could i request a little fluffy kcc fic where it’s like ‘the 5 times you and kyra almost kissed and the 1 time u did’ or sumth like that :P

the five times you almost kissed kyra, and the one time you did II k.cooney-cross

this is a super cute concept, maybe I’ll make this a lil prompt series for different players 🫶🏻

@celmeme this one’s for you bby

the five times you almost kissed kyra, and the one time you did II k.cooney-cross

one. you'd befriended kyra since the very first day the two of you had signed for melbourne victory. having played alongside one another a few times before in the young matildas a few years prior you knew of each other, but beyond that you’d really not interacted all that much at all.

you'd grown a lot closer at victory, being the same age you often roomed together for away games and through nights spent filled with breathless laughter, poor dad jokes and card games your friendship deepened.

you hadn't realized you felt much more for her than loving her like your best friend until it was during one of those sleepless sleepovers, the two of you clutching at your stomachs as your guts hurt from the deep belly laughs you desperately tried to stifle into your hands.

you were sprawled out on her bed, your own laying untouched with both your cases on it, clothes flung messily around the room as the two of you came down from a post win high, agreeing to pull an all nighter so you could sleep on the flight home tomorrow.

kyra was determined to teach you a new card game, one she'd grown up playing that must have been a queensland tribute as you'd grown up in victoria and never once heard of it.

your growing frustrations at losing over and over were grating at your patience, but the more annoyed you became the more kyra's grin grew.

"i give up!" you huffed, throwing the cards in her smug face and flopping down onto the bed with a frown. "sore loser! sore loser! sore loser!" the girl chanted beside you, playfully smacking you in the face with the playing cards as she grinned.

she finally ceased her teasing and laid down beside you, the two of you on your sides so you were face to face. kyra challenged you to a staring competition, forever competing with you over anything she could, and you of course accepted.

though as you were practically forced to look at her, properly look at her, you couldn't help but be distracted as you locked in on all the little features which made her, well her.

the freckles which littered her sun kissed skin, arching over her nose and cheeks, the alluringly safe and warm pools of hazel which were her eyes, the dimples in each corner of her mouth as she gave you that signature cheeky grin.

and her lips, her rosy pink lips which sat there staring right at you, you felt a weird pull in your stomach and blinked, the girls cheering at her victory snapping you out of it.

you could have kissed the smug smile right off her face then and there.

two. you don't know how you ended up here, you hated crowds and you hated the feel of the sweaty bodies all pressed up against you, the sour tang of alcohol soaked clothing filling the air.

but when you glance to your left and see her smile, everything else just melted away and suddenly there isn't anywhere else you'd rather be than here by her side.

you'd lost the rest of your friends hours ago but neither of you minded, wanting to see different bands than they had anyway and you all knew where to meet up later once the festival came to a close and the six of you would begin your long walk back to the caravan park you were spending the weekend at.

you hear her yell in your ear that she wants to get closer, her favourite band are up next and she's been hanging for their set all day, they were the main reason the two of you even ended up at this festival in the first place.

neither of you were drinking, just soaking in the luxury of another blisteringly hot australian summer and having a week break in between the A League season finishing and the international camp starting.

you felt her hand slip into yours, squeezing tightly as she threaded her way through the throng of intoxicated bodies littered around you, glancing over her shoulder with an excited grin to check you were still with her, eventually settling a few rows back from the front of the barricade.

she chattered away happily to you, always having been the talker among the pair of you as you were ever an avid listener. you loved the way she spoke so animatedly, gesturing her hands around and throwing her whole body into a story, switching between personalities and accents to really make you feel as though you'd been there with her.

the sun setting behind the main stage casted a gorgeous orange glow on the eager crowd below, the next band announced as a deafening cheer ripped out the pack of festival goers, kyra screaming in your ear as she shook you happily making you let out a loud laugh.

it was a few songs in when two more of your friends found you, hands resting on your shoulders as kyra's face lit up even more as they started to play her favourite song. you laughed in surprise as she grabbed your hands, sunglasses teetering on the end of her nose as she sang to you, spinning you around and dipping you as your laughter only increased.

though your breath caught in your throat as she suddenly pulled your body into hers, pressing her sweat dampened forehead to yours and screaming the final few lyrics in your face, lips only a mere millimeters from yours

all it would have taken was a slight adjustment, a sudden burst of unwavering confidence and you'd have kissed her, you wished you had.

three. the first real bump in the road came when both you and kyra finally broke out of the A League and into the international football scene. she signed with hammerby and you with arsenal, and though you'd spent time on different teams when she'd moved briefly to the wanderers, you'd never had this sort of distance between you.

it meant for more sleepless nights but this time alone, the two of you staying up to watch one anothers respective matches when they were on, face timing as much as you could and keeping in as much contact as possible.

and though your feelings for kyra should have dimmed given the way you'd not seen one another properly for so long, it seemed the distance in between you two had made your heart grow fonder.

you found your mind constantly occupied wondering what she was doing in the spare pockets of time you had to yourself.

not that you really had to try to hard to imagine it given kyra texted you at least a hundred times a day with constant updates of her whereabouts, inner monologue and just sometimes the most unhinged random thoughts which popped into her head.

as the months ticked by you found yourself counting down to the next matildas camp, your stomach knotting at the worry that you might not be called up, despite steph and caitlin's constant reassurance you would be.

of course, you were, and not even thirty seconds after hanging up with tony did kyra's contact photo flashed across your screen making you smile.

"looks like i'll be stuck with you again in july." she sighed dramatically as the two of you chattered away and wandered from where a few of the other girls were huddled together for a movie night, sitting out on steph's back deck as calvin came to keep you company.

"oh show me!" kyra begged as you scratched at the furball with his head on your legs, switching to facetime and flipping your screen to show him, kyra cooing her hello's. "well well well and here i was thinking you were out here alone." you jumped slightly hearing steph's voice as she came to join you.

"congratulations on the squad call up, not that any of us doubted you both would be. except maybe this one!" steph playfully shoved your head as you handed her your phone, her and kyra catching up for a moment before your best friend bid you both goodbye, needing to get ready for training.

"god you're both such oblivious idiots." steph chuckled as she handed you back your phone. "and what's that supposed to mean stephanie?" you challenged with narrowed eyes as the two of you stood, the older girl shaking her head with a smile.

"it means you're both clearly obsessed with one another but too in denial the other feels the same way to act on it." she smiled knowingly, slinging an arm over your shoulder and whistling for calvin to follow you both inside.

"shut up." you grumbled, shoving her off and taking your seat back beside lia and leah. "you didn't deny it." steph teased with a wink, prompting several of the other girls to try and wedge their way into whatever the two of you had been discussing, you waving them all off refusing to continue the conversation.

though as you tucked your knees into your chest your phone vibrated and you glanced down seeing kyra had sent you a series of snapchats. you turned your body a little more for privacy and opened them, smiling as you clicked through the various selfies.

the last one your finger hovered over to click out of, kyra up close to the camera with her lips pursed into a duck faced pout, captioning it 'smooches for pooches' and telling you to give calvin a kiss for her.

but unbeknownst to your best friend, the only person you wished you could give a kiss was her.

four. the world cup had all but flown by, weeks felt like hours and with every match played your emotions became all the more heightened. you were lucky enough to get your starting debut in the game against canada, having been utilized as a super sub in every other game.

once you were informed the first person you sought out to tell was your best friend, who'd started most games and you knew would understand the electric combination of excitement and nerves wracking your body.

"i'm starting tomorrow!" you burst through the door of your shared room, making kyra jump from where she'd been previously laid in bed doom scrolling. your best friend let out an excited squeal, jumping to her feet and launching herself at you.

"ow! dickhead." you laughed and shoved her as she landed on top of you, sending the two of you tumbling to the ground, a tangled mess of limbs. "see! i told you! i toldddd you!" the brunette sang out with a grin, grabbing your face and kissing your cheek with a loud mwah, and you were aware of the blush you felt creeping up your neck, wishing nothing more than for her to kiss you like that but not on the cheek.

"i'm so proud of you squish." the girl grinned, the two of you standing before she quite literally tackled you onto the bed, beaming down at you as you rolled your eyes at the nickname. "god don't call me that." you groaned, the midfielder only squishing your cheeks together aggressively with her hands making you squirm and push her away.

"hey kid, breathe." caitlin chuckled behind you, squeezing your shoulders as you tapped your foot anxiously in the tunnel, peering out to the thundering screams of the pitch which awaited you.

"you've earned this, go and show the world why!" stephs hand came to rest on your cheek where she stood in front of you, captains armband sitting proudly on her bicep as you nodded, sending her an appreciative smile.

your best friend watched from toward the back of the line up, the pining look after you not lost on her other best friend whom you were also quite close with, the blondes eyes narrowing as a smile curled on her lips.

"i think that if she scores tonight you need to reward her by telling her how you really feel." charlie leant forward and whispered in kyra's ear, causing the girl to turn around and shoot her a glare, mumbling for her to shut up before facing forward again.

unlike the match prior the team kicked off with a flying start, hayley getting you all on the score sheet early on much to the teams collective relief, everyone feeling the pressure of two prior lackluster performances looming over them.

by the time the clock wound down into injury time you were three goals up and absoloutely flying. you hadn't expected to play the entire match, tony had given you the heads up you'd likely be subbed off not long after half time for some fresh legs.

but here you were entering the 100th minute, legs still pounding the pitch as you trailed after hayley, flanked by ellie on your left and kyra on your right as they passed between them as you moved into position on the other side of the box.

kyra's head popped up for a moment and her eyes caught yours, you sent her a grin expecting her to cross it over to charlie who was right by the post, but she sent you a nod and suddenly the ball was sailing toward you as a sea of red uniforms came charging in.

you jumped suddenly realising that if you didn't the ball would be easily clipped out of play by a defender. you went in blind as two canadians pressed into either side of you, then suddenly as your eyes squeezed closed and you felt someone crash into your midsection, something came bouncing off your forehead moments before you slumped down to the ground.

any pain you felt from the harsh tackle was immediately wiped away as the stadium errupted and bodies piled on top of you as the final whistle sounded to end the game.

you were drowned in kisses and hugs and slung over shoulders and passed from team mate to team mate, celebrating your debut goal as you couldn't wipe the shit eating grin off your face.

"look! see! you're a little fucking rocket." steph beamed, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning your body, pointing up to the big screen where your goal was replayed, your captain shaking you with an excited cheer, kissing your cheek before running off.

you watched the goal replay as a sense of pride unlike something you'd ever known began to creep through your body, drowning out the deafening cheers and chants of the crowd as you finally felt like you belonged here.

though the moment was cut short as a body crashed into you, sending you tumbling to the ground as your best friend hovered over you. "you fucking did it! you scored! you played the full game and you pulled out a banger in the last minute!" kyra screamed at the top of her lungs, tilting her head back as she sat on top of you and cheering as loud as she could up toward the open sky making you laugh.

"wouldn't have happened without your assist!" you smacked her chest as you sat up, kyra shuffling off of you as the two of you sat side by side on the pitch, her head falling to your shoulder as you both soaked it all in for a moment.

you felt a warm hand slip into yours, fingers intertwining and gently squeezing as kyra brought your hand up to her mouth, kissing it and sending you a smile so soft you could have melted into the grass beneath you.

and again you both felt the world slip away as your eyes remained locked, the two of you seemingly caught in a trance as without realizing you both began to lean in slightly, kyra's eyes dropping down to your lips before flickering back up, left eyebrow every so slightly raised as if asking permission for something.

however you were both brought swiftly back to reality as charlie suddenly launched herself on top of the two of you with a squeal, arms slung around your necks as both yours and kyras cheeks burnt red, both avoiding one anothers gaze as if it would turn one another to stone.

five. ever since the almost kiss after the canada game and the crushing semi final elimination, things with you and kyra for the first time ever had felt strained, awkward, different.

decompressing after a whirlwind world cup you threw yourself with pre season and a week away with your arsenal national teammates, you and kyra had hardly spoken bar a few painfully awkward text conversations.

you were both aware of how uncomfortable things had become, and of course you both knew why and wanted to speak about it, but neither of you realised the other was feeling the same. and for fear of rejection or losing your friendship all together, you both suffered through the rough patch silently.

but then, everything changed the day that kyra's signing was announced.

seeing it pop up on your social media's you found yourself overcome with waves of differing emotions. you were angry she'd not told you, sad that she hadn't felt like it was something she could have told you, over the moon that once again you'd finally be playing alongside one another at a club level, and absolutely terrified at the thought of seeing her again in person.

turns out your chance came quite soon, kyra arriving to colney for her first training session with the team meant she'd called you the night before. she'd apologised over and over for not telling you, explaining she was doing her best to keep it as under wraps as she could before it was announced given it was such a last minute buy and transfer.

this had then snowballed into the two of you spending three and a half hours on the phone together, catching up on everything and anything from the past month you'd not actually spoken about, things finally starting to feel a little more normal again.

"you nervous to see your little girlfriend squish?" caitlin teased quietly as she took her seat beside you at breakfast, causing you to send her a firm glare, ignoring her words. "girlfriend?" katie had then chimed in, a lot louder than your australian team mate as your eyes widened and you smacked a hand over her mouth.

"do you have any other volume than fucking loud mccabe?" you scowled, removing your hand and shoveling a mouthful of fruit into your mouth.

"well clearly someone pissed in your cereal this morning." the irishwoman clipped, not taking the teasing any further as steph arrived and sent both women beside you a firm look, having overheard their previous words.

"hey, you okay?" the older girl kicked you softly causing you to look up and send her a nod, gaze dropping back to your tray as you picked at your breakfast.

"girls!" you all glanced up at jonas's voice, your breakfast suddenly caught in your throat at the sight of the tanned midfielder standing beside him with a nervous smile as jonas introduced her properly.

seeing the clearly overwhelmed look twinkle in her eyes, masked to almost everyone but you, you grabbed your tray and quickly stood to your feet. abandoning your breakfast you were quickly by her side, squeezing her hip reassuringly and grabbing her hand, pulling her with you to start introducing her to all of the girls.

“do you think they’ll ever confess that they’re in love with one another?” caitlin quietly murmured to steph who smiled, seeing the obvious glances of longing you and kyra would bathe one another with when you assumed the other wasn’t looking, and the way your gaze’s would quickly flick down to the others lips as you spoke, clearly distracted with the turmoil of your hidden affections for one another.

“yeah you know I do, but when they’re ready.”

one.

things finally felt normal between you and your best friend again, well as normal as it could be.

everyday you’d find you had to catch yourself, getting a little too close with the tanned midfielder.

a hug perhaps lingering a few moments too long, hands grazing skin as the two of you brushed up against one another in training, causing you both to become flustered and overwhelmed and yet somehow you both failed to notice the others obvious pining.

you both felt the tension between you two growing, but determined not to form any cracks in your once again rock solid friendship you refused to acknowledge them, pushing your feelings deep deep down and ignoring them as best as you could.

until one day, everything bubbled over.

it was the window of international break, so with over half your team mates scattered across the globe with national team commitments you and kyra found yourself with a lot more uninterrupted time together.

the two of you had done a lower body workout together earlier in the day under the watchful eyes of kim and jen, steph and caitlin normally your assigned babysitters away on a weekend getaway in spain together for some much needed r+r.

finishing up the two of you were left to your own devices, kim and jen satisfied that with your energy levels seemingly at bay you and kyra could be left alone in the gym for awhile before you’d all link back up later for some drills.

“i bet you i can hang upside down on this for five whole minutes!” kyra challenged as the two of you messed around with the gymnastics ropes, swinging around like monkeys as kyra had control of the gym speakers, your favourite band blasting around you.

“no way. you’ll break your neck if you fall!” you warned as the girl simply sent you a cheeky grin and shifted her position so she could get her legs up and into the hoops she’d been hanging off.

“ky you could seriously hurt yourself.” you warned again as she waved you off and continued on with her task, stubborn nature kicking in as you sighed in defeat and moved in closer, hoping to be able to catch her if she fell.

“okay start timing me!” the girl ordered, pulling herself up as you rolled your eyes but tapped onto the timer of your apple watch as she dropped her body, now hanging upside down with her feet through the hoops.

“see! told you, piece of cake mate.” kyra beamed beckoning you closer as you shook your head at her, the two of you basically eye to eye given how high she was on the ropes. “i feel like spider man this is so cool.” the brunette giggled, face starting to go red as the blood rushed to her head.

“you wish.” you rolled your eyes playfully, moving a stray hair out of her face as a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, eyes roaming one another’s faces silently.

“you could be my gwen stacey.” kyra smiled though much softer this time, her hands reaching out for you as you grabbed them, fingers intertwining, breath hitching as she tugged you closer, the two of you so close that if you even turned your head slightly your nose would bump hers.

and just like all those weeks ago everything seemed to slow, the guitar riff currently booming around the gym ceasing to a quiet hum as you found yourself completely lost in the soft pools of hazel brown which stared at you, a subtle longing drawing you in closer.

kyra’s breath hitched slightly as your hands came to gently clasp her cheeks, your touch warm and comforting and familiar. your eyes flickered up to her lips as she ever so slightly nodded, her body screaming out for the exact same thing yours was.

ever so slowly, agonisingly so for kyra, you leaned in that little bit further until finally, finally, your lips met hers.

her lips felt soft, and warm and your stomach did a backflip as they moved against your own, her mouth slotting perfectly with yours as fireworks punched their way around your insides, the gentle touch of your best friend setting your hairs on end, goosebumps rippling your tanned skin.

“kyra! jesus christ get the hell down from there you’re gonna break your neck!” you jumped away from her as the sound of your captains voice rang sternly through the gym.

caught off guard kyra let out a squeal as her feet unhooked, sending her tumbling down on top of you, the two of you crashing down to the ground with a loud thud and a shared groan.

but as the scottish woman ripped into the two of you angrily your eyes still found kyra’s, lips curling into a soft smile and cheeks glowing bright red as you slipped your hand into hers, squeezing softly as kyra reciprocated your shy smile.

because to the two of you in that moment, nothing else mattered.

#kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #kyra cooney cross #woso fanfics #woso #awfc #matildas

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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

Text

I'll Look After You Chapter Two

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: {Y/N} reunites with a lost soul, learns the fate of two of her old friends

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, mentions of injury and mourning}

Wc- 5142

Taglist- @otterlockholmes @stylesann @adhxmoony

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of your quill tip against the edge of your inkwell filled the small cubicle. With Moody away on a mission, you had no one to snap at you about the small fidgets and bits of noises you made. This was your least favorite part of your internship, just waiting and acting like you had things to do. You knew once Moody got back he'd once again break down how to fill out the mission reports and go back to ignoring your existence.

You sighed out dramatically and pressed the feathers of the quill between your upper lip and nose. Not noticing as a bit of ink stained your cheek. It had been a few weeks after the dance and the last thing you needed was to be alone with your thoughts. Instead, you focused on the ambiance of moody’s office. The sound of ruffling paper and the scratch of quills to parchment. The buzz of battery operated lights were preferred to the heat trap that was Moody’s desk, his instance on candlelit space and lanterns that burned threw oil like mad, only succeeded in making the small space unbearably hot.

It did set a melancholy, the warm yellows and hazy space truly made you a bit tired. Arms crossing and leaning down on your desk, chin against your arm, before a voice cut threw the monotony.

“Having fun here, gorgeous?” A voice cut threw your thoughts and dragged you out of your slump. Slowly, you smiled to yourself, leaning back and looking over to the familiar figure in the entrance of the mini office.

“Barty Crouch Jr.” you hummed and he put his hand over his chest in a fake offense.

“My full name? What happened to ‘little bastard’?” Barty purred and you couldn't help but laugh.

You and Barty never talked at school, even with your small friendship with Pandora and Regulus. He had a certain hatred for your rowdy bunch, and in turn, you hated him. However, ever since you got picked up on your apprenticeship, he was always around the corner.

The first few days of pretending you didn't know him didn't work. His father had a habit of dismissing him during hearings, leading him to stray to you. After the first two trivial encounters of fiddling fingers and weird familiarities, the visits became more willing, unfortunately. He was funny, a bit of a flirt, but you learned quickly it was his expression of love, both platonic and intimate. You usually spent this time together listening to him rant and rave about that Evan Rosier kid in Slytherin.

He was another you didn't care for, but Barty was smitten and you never had the heart to tell him how much you disliked to hear about how Rosier had very kissable lips.

Barty was depraved and his filter was non-existent.

You liked him a lot.

“A thousand apologies, lil bastard. What brings you to my slums?” You hummed and he walked over, taking Moody’s seat, man spreading and leaning all the way back. Using his heels to spin the chair around to face you, before idly swaying.

“Dad stuff.” He hummed and looked at you before gesturing to the paper in front of you. You lifted the page so he could get a good look at the scribbles. Doodles, your signature signed the paper in several different ways, and some places with swirls and stars. He laughed.

“That's what they have you doing all the time?” He cheeked and grabbed your quill, still between your lip and nose. He fiddled with it while you smirked.

“Yup, I am the big dog here. They wouldn't dare give me real work. They fear my potential is too great. I may tarnish a record or two.”

“Or your father’s reputation.” Barry mumbled and your smile slowly fell. You sat up and leaned your head in your palm. You carefully looked him over. His confident and excitable posture seemed a bit mellow, and his eyes were drifting everywhere but you.

Ah, that's it.

“Did he say something to you?” You mumbled and he gave a loud exaggerated groan, trying to cover up his watery throat. “I just hate coming here. I mean, my dad is kissing ass all day for a chance at the Minister role, basically ignoring me until he's telling me just how awful I am.” He scoffed and tossed your quill on the counter.

Your brow pinched at his words. Over the very short time you've known Barty, he's always been honest and open with you about his feelings. Maybe it was the anonymity, knowing you wouldn't say a word, you were practically strangers. Or maybe it was how he was with everyone, again, you hardly knew him.

“You know that's not true, right?” You whispered, inching yourself closer by your toes. Barty looked up and slowly smiled at how ridiculous you looked.

“Yeah?” He mumbled.

“Yeah.” You nodded firmly. “You don't have anything to prove to him.”

“It certainly feels it.” He admitted, looking down. Only for a voice to cut in.

“Ah! Good to see you feel comfortable, Junior, please, take the whole desk!” Moody boomed from the entryway before he gestured to the two of you. “The two nepotistic children fancy each others company? Who would have guessed.”

You sighed and gave Barty an apologetic look and he waved his hand. You almost didn't catch the black ink peaking through the top of his sleeves. You quickly reminded yourself that it was likely just a tattoo. Barty was one of the smartest boys you knew, if not the smartest. He wouldn't.

“I'll see you next time.” He put back on his confident look and sent you a wink. You slowly smiled and rolled your eyes, watching as he left. You gathered your things as Moody began to sit down.

“And where do you think yur goin?” He snarked as you filled your bag.

“It's five, Moody. I don't have to waste any time in this building after closing for another two years. Be seeing you.” You dismissed him and he scoffed, “Just because the clock says you're done, you give up? That's not how this world works, girl!”

You scoffed at him, before a familiar voice called out to you two. “Oh, come on, grump. Let the lil Niffler go, she had school in the morning.”

You snapped around on your heel to be greeted by the Prewett twins. Smiling bright at Fabian who was rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn, before Gideon gestured you over. Both of them clearly packed up and ready to go.

“Come on then, we'll walk you to a floo flame.” The older twin spoke up and you nodded, smiling brighter. Hurrying over with a mutter of thanks.

“And stop calling me Niffler.”

“Anything for our little coffee runner.” Gideon mused and threw his arm over your shoulder, making you groan.

“Actually, Niffler is fine.”

~~~

You woke with a stir, once again, from a knock on your bedroom door. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in your surroundings with a start, before you slowly calmed. That wasn't the first time you had a dream about your past memories, but it was the first time it had been that vivid. It was reassuring to be met with the dark thistle print wallpaper, the wood furniture, and the absolute plush mess that was your bed.

Your bedroom wreaked of your youth, records on the wall, half eaten by the vermin that invaded the home. Gryffindor memorabilia that trumped your small touches of green, somehow staying the brightest thing in your home. You did your best to restore it, but it had been a three month long mission returning it to its past glory.

The knock came again and you snapped from your thoughts, sitting up and groaning. “Come in!”

You rubbed your eyes as the door opened, peaking between your fingers as they strained the skin around your eyes, as if that would help wake you.

“Morning.” The familiar sweet honey-like sound filled the room. You slowly smiled as you saw Remus enter, holding two cups of coffee. His voice was always deep in the mornings, more hoarse than most. He must have been up for a while.

“Moony, you're the absolute best.” You mused and made grabby hands for the cup. He laughed and set it in your hands, tapping your calf. You bent your legs on command and he took the space your legs previously occupied.

“Did I wake you?” He hummed before he took a sip of his own bitter mixture. You nodded along and took in the rich smell of what was once expensive and surely delicious foreign coffee, drowned out by an excessive amount of sugar and milk.

“Mhm.. how long have you been up?” You quizzed and took a sip of your overly sweet drink.

“Just a few hours. Padfoot took Harry out to go fly on his new broom over the fields. Woke me up.” He chuckled and you gave a fond smile. The summer had gone so smoothly so far, everything was domestic and homely. It had only been two months, but you fell into an easy routine.

“I hope he takes good care of this one. It would be poetic, Sirius gave him his first and last broom.” You smiled and stared down at the bubbles forming on the top of the coffee. Remus turned to look fully at you, before he slowly reached out to grab one of your ankles, his large hands covering a bit of your calf as well, before he began to rub the skin a bit. You had to bite your bottom lip to keep your mind on one side of the road.

Living with the boys was domestic bliss, living with Remus and Sirius was marital hell.

“You're drifting.” He whispered and you nodded, setting your cup down.

“Just.. odd is all.” You mumbled and looked down at your thumbs. He pressed his thumb flat against your ankle and tried to persuade you to continue. “Odd?”

“Odd. I know the years I lived as a muggle weren’t real, based on fabricated memories..” You trialed off and looked away. “But finding out those memories weren't real and..” You gestured around. “Learning all that's happened. I'm sure there's more I don't know. I had to learn from an old newspaper what happened to Harry, Moody wouldn't give me specifics.”

You slowly sunk into the pillows and folded your arms over yourself. “And I just.. I missed 12 years. 12 years of my life. I've learned not to be bitter about it, no use to it. But sometimes I'll remember things about people I… I should have known better. Then Harry.” You whispered and covered her face.

Remus leaned forward and reached out to tilt your chin up, his touch gentle and comforting. His deep hazel eyes locked onto yours, filled with understanding and a hint of something more. Something so familiar. Something that once broke you down to your most basic form and shattered your heart. Something you hated to say you longed to see in his eyes again. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, a tension that had been building for some time now. Like the egg shells you walked on when it was just you two the first month were swept away.

“I know it must be overwhelming, to feel like you've missed out on so much,” Remus began, his voice low and soothing. “But you have a chance now, to make new memories, I don't think I've seen Harry so happy. He's reverted to a child, it's amazing to watch.” He chuckled. “And you're not alone in this, I'm here for you, always. Uhm..” He cleared his throat. “Sirius too.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you. Then the guilt sunk in at his last words. Quickly, you looked away from him and took your face from his hands. Right. The reminder of Sirius made your heart ache helplessly in your chest. You closed your eyes with a small sigh before looking back to Remus. The way he looked at you, with such intensity and care, made your heart race in a way you couldn't quite explain. A painful way. A way that showed just how badly you wanted him.

Then, the words from the Shrieking Shack would ring in your ears.

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget my favorite of the furry bunch?” Remus’s words sunk into your mind easily.

“She's yours?” Harry gasped.

“She's mine.” Sirius snapped back before he looked at Lupin.

The guilt settled in quickly. If you were his, why did he act this way? Why did he push you away? Why did he act like you were nothing? Why didn't he give you the ring back?

You looked down at your fidgeting hands and Remus gave a low sigh through his nose. You met his eyes again and he gave you a strained smile, patting your knee. “It's alright.” He mumbled, before he could dismiss himself, the door suddenly rushed open.

“{Y/N}, darling, are you ready?” Sirius’s excitement was cut off when he saw you both. Remus’s hand on your lax knee and practically swallowing your form from where Sirius stood. Both boys clenched their jaws and you shooed Remus off, standing and turning to your wardrobe. “What is it, Sirius?”

“I uhm..” He gathered himself before he shook his head. “Harry, has been invited to the Weasley’s for the World Cup, seems they would like him to head there early.”

The room was thick with tension and you cut through it as if it wasn't there. “I'll be right out. I have to change first.” You spoke to them without turning. Remus slapped his palm to his thigh and sat up. Nodding to Sirius as he passed him, but Sirius never moved.

You turned to him and arched your eyebrow, he crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway. “Its nothing I haven't acquainted myself with.” He mused nonchalantly, slowly smirking. “Intimately.”

This bloody bastard, what was he trying to prove here?

You gave a laugh turned scoff and lifted up your left hand, wiggling your ring finger. Sirius frowned and you glanced back at him again. “Out.”

You put on something light, simple for the heat. Your eye caught the snake ear clip the twins had gifted you years ago, looking around the red covered room before you slowly smiled and picked it up. The only Slytherin inspired gift you'd ever received, of course, the twins always saw the houses for what they were. It only made sense they would be the ones to admire that about you.

You and Sirius packed up the car, as Remus went over everything Harry needed to buy this year, making sure he had packed everything.

After a fair bit of goodbyes, you and Harry set off to the Weasley’s. Not after Sirius asking for the thirteenth time if he could tag along. During your ride to the Weasley’s, Harry managed to stay up the entire time. Talking to you about his morning venture into the town with Padfoot.

~~~

When you finally made it to the burrow, it was midday. Molly and who you assumed to be Ginny were sitting outside the house, talking idly. You landed the car a bit away from the house, and from the corner of your eye, you spied how interested Harry seemed to be that the girl was coming to greet him.

Interesting development.

“Boys! Come help {Y/N} with her bags!” You heard Molly shrill and laughed, climbing out of the car and waving off Molly.

“Me and Harry are plenty alright, Molly! It's just his bags for now!” You called over and she tutted, closing the distance between you two. The grass fields brushed against your calves and the sun was practically cooking your skin. Harry grabbed his bags and his owl himself and hurried over to Ginny.

“Harry, why don't you go greet Ron?” You hummed and he nodded, turning to Ginny who stuck her tongue out at him and ran inside. He laughed and hurried after her, making you smile. That was so familiar.

“Oh, now, {Y/N} dear, before you go inside I have some news for you.” Molly fussed as you both walked to the front door. You began to fan yourself with your hand and use your other to block the sun from your eyes.

“Oh please make it quick, it's bloody scorching out here.” You laughed and put your hands on your hips, leaning forward to squint at her. Both of you facing each other outside the cracked front door.

“Well, we have company,” She started, her hands clasped together in front of her. “I don't expect him to be here so soon, honestly I forgot I lettered him, and he certainly didn't tell me he would be coming so soon.” She rambled on and you gave a nervous laugh.

“You have me worried here, Molly.” Before you could continue your thought, you felt something wet and cold against your ear and Molly’s face dropped. You snapped your head around and your eyes locked onto two beady black ones. A bloody Niffler. Pilfering your ear ring!

“No! You put that down!” You shouted and tried to catch the weaseling little thing. It crawled down your entire body in a spiral motion before dashing inside.

“You rotten rodent!” You shouted and ran inside after it, Molly’s cry for your attention falling on deaf ears. You were not going to lose one of your favorite pieces of jewelry to a damned backwards goose. “Get back here!”

You dashed across the house for it, knocking around tables and hitting your hips on protruding corners, before it wiggled its way into the kitchen with squeaks of distress.

You were panting, coming up the the lively open kitchen, grabbing a chair back as you gathered yourself. “Who's ever.. bastard child that is.. I have a few words..” You wheezed, gesturing to the blurry figures in front of you. It seemed the full family was there, talking to someone you thought to be Arthur for a moment.

The murmuring settled down before you rubbed your eyes as spotted the little criminal. You gasped and pointed at it, as it crawled up the leg of the man. The small group, George, Fred, Ron, all stepped aside and watched as you gathered yourself.

Then you heard a laugh.

A laugh you knew better than the owner's voice.

Your face fell and your eyes raised to meet hazy brown ones.

Gideon fucking Prewett.

You took the chance to take him in, still in shock. He was older now, had to be in his late forties, looked it too. His smile was fuller, his eyebrows bushy and his fiery red curls were long enough to frame his bearded face, with speckles of white.

Broad shoulders, if you were allowed to say that, considering his left arm was completely gone, up to his shoulder. He just kept smiling at you, reaching back with his palm out for the Niffler to return it. “Don't steal from your name sake, Vix.” He tutted and you crumbled.

“Gideon-” Your voice broke and he opened his arm. You hurried over and wrapped your arms around his stomach. He chuckled and patted your back, returning the earring to your ear.

“I thought I lost ya, Niffler.” He whispered in your ear and you gave a watery laugh.

“So you replaced me?” You jabbed and he laughed.

“Needed something to annoy me. You and Fabian…” You shook your head and hugged him tighter.

Molly entered the kitchen and smiled fondly at the reunion, before ushering her kids out. The twins complaining as they left. Molly and Gideon shared a nod before he nudged you softly. “So, I assume you have some questions.” He mumbled into your temple, and you nodded.

“And me to answer them?” He chuckled and you nodded again.

“Just.. just a little longer..”

~~~

You found yourself again, at the Weasley’s, having a conversation with a dear old friend.

You both set up in the kitchen, sitting at the table. You were fiddling with your finger and he gave you a patient and loving smile. It seemed he grew calmer as he aged. You could still see that spark of mischief in his eyes, but it was mellowed out, possibly drowned out by the excitement he had when he looked at you.

Your eyes slowly fell to his arm and he gave a small chuckle. “Well, I guess it's time I tell you what's happened, hm?”

“That night, when you apperated?”

He nodded and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I panicked when I heard Fabian scream. It broke my concentration. I was redirected home.”

~~~

The crackle of apparition snapped through the empty room. Not even the moon light slipped into the dark space, as it became more and more clear to him, he wasn't at the ministry.

He heard thundering footsteps hurry up the stairs, he was growing foggy. The door slammed open and he slowly looked over, his eyes locking with Mary’s. She was smiling, holding up her status reports he had tasked her with before he left with his brother merely an hour ago.

Her face slowly fell as her eyes widened in horror at what she was faced with. Gideon Prewett, sprawled out across a broken desk, with a brutal twist to his arm that she could practically feel. Slowly, he grimaced and tried to stand up, only for all the pain the adrenaline had kept at bay to come rushing forward.

He let out a pained wail, much like his brother’s, and fell forward. His mind was still not clear, but he saw Mary. The only person he could protect at the moment. From what? He didn't know, but she was within reach. The sounds of papers falling to the ground and heels against his wooden floor filled his ears as Mary ran over to him and put her hand to his chest. Lifting him back up as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder. Clinging to her arm with a rough grip that made her wince. “Boss-”

“We need… we need ditany.” He spoke carefully and through his grinding molars. She quickly tried to pull away but his grip tightened on her. Suddenly, the idea of his own apprentice leaving him, with you and Fabian’s status unknown, was far more terrifying than he would like to admit. Mary looked at his hand and quickly looked around the office. She took her free hand and lifted her wand to the roof, commanding her patronus forward.

Her glowing brown bear manifested before her, as Mary felt her throat tighten as her eyes grew wet watching Gideon slipped in and out of consciousness. She had no choice, she knew, even with all the pain he had caused her in their youth, she couldn't lose her Prewett. “Take this message to Snape..”

Gideon slowly faded away, loosening his grip on her shoulder and falling limp against the shredded wood and scattered parchment, the last thing he could recall was her patronus running off into the curtained windows, the very blinds she soon opened when he lost his grip.

He woke up an hour later, in his bed. He winced, a muted and groggy pain filled him. The tense and rocking pain was something he was used to, his muscles tightening and his blood rushing, paired with a splitting and deep sting. Without that sting, he felt off, like the pain was just around the corner, waiting to bite back.

He could feel something in his hand. Gripping a bit tighter the numbing buzz was pushed aside and he was able to feel the familiar warmth of another hand in his own. He turned his head and blinked away his grogginess, seeing Mary staring at him with so much worry and care. He gave her the sweetest smile he could muster but it only worked to break what little resolve she had.

He rubbed his thumb over her smaller hand, and she leaned forward from her chair to press her head to his knuckles. Like she could process that he was alive, but the fear of losing him was so great that him smiling at her could only show her what would have been lost.

“I'm alright, grizzly.” He croaked and she shook her head, sniffling as she dried her cheeks.

“Dumbledore went to retrieve them..” She whispered and he was snapped out of his mind and shoved back into reality. He tried to sit up, but his left arm didn't quite respond and with Mary clinging to his right hand he could only lay back. He looked across the room and noticed Snape’s slight wince and his drifting eyes.

“What's happened?” Gideon commanded across the room and Severus avoided his eyes. He tried again to lift himself but Mary tightened her grip, pressing him closer as she began to cry. His face fell and a dread filled his chest.

“What's happened to them?” He croaked out, his turn to try and hold back a sob. He knew the moment Mary began to let her sobs wrack her body. The way she held his hand let him feel the warm tears that wet her face. He knew they were gone.

He let his head fall against the pillow and he stared up at the ceiling. He tried to stay stoic, only for his grip on Mary to once again tighten as he sniffled, letting out a sob, crying out. Mary quickly let go of his hand and looked down at him, only for him to wrap his arm around her back and pull her full weight against him. It was grounding and she was quick to hug him, letting him sob into her shoulder.

She was all he had left and he didn't plan to leave her behind.

~~~

“When I left for America, I took her with me.” Gideon mused and took a sip of his tea that Molly had hurried over to make. Your eyes widened and your jaw went slack. A million questions passed through your mind at once, but one took president over everything else.

“Mary? Mary is alive?” You pushed and he grimaced a bit.

“She is. She sends her love but..” He rubbed his neck and bit his cheek, trying his best to gather himself. “This place, it's painful for her. Even with you home, she doesn't want to face this.”

You nodded and furrowed your brow at your hands. Giving a low huff. “Not that I ever had the choice.”

“Given it, would you have come back?” He pushed. “She's built a life out there. I have too. You can't blame her for choosing her peace.”

You clicked your tongue before slowly nodding and leaning back in your seat. Trying to think back on everything you had been told, before you winced a bit. “Madeye. He said she was attacked, that they found her at our hideout.”

“She was hurt. But alive.” He reassured and took a steady breath. “I was out of commision and Remus couldn't face it. Mary went to retrieve what she could from your safe house. Her clothes, her research, her gear. I had offered her Fabian's room until she could join me in America.”

You began to pick at your nails and slowly looked up. Your voice crackles a bit. “And?”

“Mulciber was there. Mary told me bits and pieces of what's happened but.. it seems she's blocked a lot of it out. Says it was similar to what happened back in her school years, she hardly managed to hold on. Then Remus found her and..” He sighed through his nose. “The boy was already rattled by what was going on, sent her to St. Mungos and then she came to live with me.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. You remembered what had happened to Mary in your seventh year, you didn't happen to see it but you remembered the night terrors and the bits she told you in your shared dorm. You always thought it was unfair, Mary was such a sweet girl, quiet and reserved, but she was brave to a fault. When she told you she defended a first year muggle born you already knew it would end poorly. She was alone, she was scared, and what happened to her terrified you.

You were sure that night is what made her change her profession choice. She wanted to protect people, be able to protect herself if that ever happened again. She said she wanted to be strong, like you.

It made you wonder how differently she would see you if she knew the truth. Yes, you could fight, yes, you were strong, but that meant nothing if every time you were faced with significant danger you folded in on yourself.

“Where have you gone?” Gideon called over to you and you snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry just.. a lot on my mind.” You admitted and looked down at your own tea cup. “Are you going back to America after this?”

“As much as I'm sure you'd love to get rid of me.” He mused and shooed his Niffler away from his spoon. “I am here to help with the tournament this year.”

“Really?” You huffed with wide eyes, straightening your back. “Do they really need all three of us? I thought it was excessive that they wanted me to come along with Moody.” You huffed and he chuckled.

“Well, he's getting old.” Gideon mused. “Also said we'd be a great help to the defense against the dark arts class.”

“You are an awful teacher.” You deadpanned and he gave a playfully horrified gasp.

“Mary seemed to catch on quick.”

“Mary is as smart as a whip.” You challenged and he scoffed. You slowly found yourself smiling before you looked down again. “We should start heading there now. Don't want to give Moody any more of a reason to be upset with me.”

“Upset?” He parroted.

“Yeah… turns out, if you don't want to be on Moody's bad side, don't run off with a wanted criminal to confront a dead man.” You waved your hands about. “And definitely don't get caught with a lycanthrope on a full moon.”

You looked back up at Gideon after a moment of silence and couldn't help but laugh at his shocked and scandalized look.

“You what!?”

You stood up and rang your hands together. “Do you have your bags? I'll tell you on the way to Hogwarts.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #harry potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #barty jr #barty crouch x evan rosier #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #remus lupin x you #sirius x you #gideon prewett #mary macdonald

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silent-sanctum · 5 months ago

Note

HIII I LOVEEE YOUR WORKS !!! can i request jotaro x reader but where by a stand attack jotaro was now part 6 jotaro with the teen reader ? How shocked and flustered would be rrader by seeing jitaro in his 40's ! Ty!!!

hiya anon! Thank you for the kind words 🥹 Sorry it took so long for me to get your request out. It was supposed to be yesterday but then some mishaps happened and it was delayed to today. But here we are! Hope you enjoy this quick lil crack(?) fic I wrote 💌

A Mild Inconvenience- 6!Taro x Reader

word count: 2.7k

You have no idea where he went nor when he disappeared.

It was strange as it happened when you think about it again; one day, you and Jotaro were out and about investigating the area for any suspicious activity, and then out of the blue a random stranger jumped out from the shadows and made a weird proclamation of sorts about taking down the Crusaders.

It wasn’t anything surprising given he was the nth enemy Stand user they faced throughout this trip and judging by the way he presented himself, he’s also boasting a fragile ego thinking he was all that.

But an enemy was still an enemy so you and your delinquent partner had no problem beating him to a pulp. It was rather easy compared to the previous opponents they faced. His Stand wasn’t anything grand at all; just a small ratty pouch filled with sparkling purple sand.

The weird aspect of the whole situation was when the guy was about to tap out after being at the receiving end of Star Platinum’s punch barrage, only then did he decide to get a fistful of sand from his tiny bag and throw it straight at Jotaro’s face.

Some of it ended up on yours and caused you to close your eyes for a brief second, covering your face as an extra barrier, and when you opened them, you furrowed your brows at the sudden lack of both Jotaro and the knocked-out Stand user.

“What-”

You waved the remaining plume of sand away from your face as you surveyed your surroundings. Don’t tell me- You double-checked the structures surrounding you, the locals walking about, and the general weather. Nope. I’m still in Cairo. The possibility of me in an alternate universe can be crossed out now.

But that didn’t answer the prevailing question of where the fuck did those two go?

“Jotaro-ssi?” You called out to him as you headed your way somewhere. You don’t know where but anywhere will do if it helped finding him. Not that it would be hard to spot a 6’5” tall teenager among the average-height people. “I don’t know if you’re trying to get back at me for teasing you but leaving me by myself isn’t exactly the best decision, asshole.”

You kept scouting the area for any signs of him, turned corners, and explored every alleyway. And still… nothing.

This went on for what felt like 45 minutes and at this point, you sweated a lot and your thighs started to cramp. With your hands on your hips, you groaned in frustration, head tilted to the sky. “Wah, who would’ve known you’d use Mr. Joestar’s family technique against me. Foul play,” you scoffed. “I get it, alright? Just show yourself already.”

Just as you were about to call it quits and assume he just went back to the inn where the others were, something caught your eye at the corner of your vision. In the midst of a parting crowd, you could spot someone standing out from the rest. Someone with a signature ripped hat and coat.

You smirked. “You and your tall ass.”

With a confident stride, you stalked past the unbothered locals and made your way to the towering figure. However, as you neared him, it was only then you noticed the stark difference in his appearance; instead of his primarily black school uniform, he was decked in a purple-dominating outfit with gold accents all over. The design of his chain was different too, changed from the simple golden hoops to one that ended with a golden hook or anchor.

But aside from his grandfather, you knew no one else as tall as the delinquent, so you pushed forward and poked the man’s shoulder. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back and gaped at the subtle difference in his voice. Not like there were any major differences. It’s still deep and gravelly, but somehow his voice was… milder for lack of a better term. As if it was polished to be more refined.

And as he turned around to look at you, you gaped at the visible changes found in your supposed 17-year-old boyfriend.

Jotaro looked older… way older than he’s supposed to. His cheekbones were more prominent, his eyes a bit sunken, gray streaks of hair lined segments of his head underneath his purple hat, and his hair was trimmed short. Not only that, it seemed that underneath his new flashier coat, he seemed to be built… a bit more. Resembling that of young, about-to-be silver foxes?

You cleared your throat and hoped the warmth in your cheeks faded as instantly as you wished. “Jotaro-ssi?”

He squinted at you, equally confused. “Y/N-ssi?”

“I don’t know if it’s just the heat starting to make me see things, but you look really different… and older.”

“Likewise. You look like your vibrant, youthful self.”

You coughed, trying not to succumb to bashful flattery from the compliment said by the gruff voice of this seemingly more mature Jotaro. “Clearly- well first off, thank you for that- but I’ll have to clarify some things.”

Jotaro tilted his head in curiosity. “I have questions to ask myself. But go on.”

“This might sound stupid but how old are you?”

“40.”

You remained silent, speechless with your brows furrowed and mouth agape as you processed what he said. “F-Forty? 4… 0?”

But he dismissed your surprise and simply asked, “What year is it today?”

“1987?”

Jotaro cursed under his breath, crossing his arms. “Figured… how the hell did this happen?” He let out a deep sigh. “Good grief, I’m too tired for this. Just as I was about to finish paperwork as well.”

“Hey Jo- err mister,” you said. “Can we talk about whatever the heck is going on somewhere that’s not in the open?”

He turned back to you and with one sweeping look around his surroundings, he nodded. “Sure.”

---

It was out of nowhere when he found himself standing in the middle of a marketplace.

Not even a minute passed and with a blink of an eye, Jotaro was no longer in his office signing documents but found himself getting pushed and shoved by a passing crowd of dark to tan-skinned locals. He recognized these buildings and streets. With a cock of his head, he said to himself, “What… Why am I here?”

Just then, someone poked his back. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

Wait. “Excuse me?”

He turned around and he grew even more confused as he saw you- or rather, a younger you- behind him, looking up at him with an expression that mirrored his.

This was odd. The last he saw you was mere hours ago as you- a 40-year-old version of you- kissed him goodbye as you headed off to the Foundation to resume work while he stayed behind to focus on tasks related to his day job as a biologist.

But then he considered a couple of things: The buildings of Cairo, the locals, a stunned you being a teenager…

It meant one thing and as he asked you that question, you confirmed it and he was appalled. Nothing happened to him in his timeline, but it wasn’t the case for his younger self.

You offered to bring him back indoors where they could continue the discussion somewhere more private, and with nothing else giving him any solutions to his dilemma, he agreed.

Hence, here they were- sitting a couple of feet apart in a room of an inn with the rest of the Crusaders out still doing their agendas for the day. You sat on the foot of the bed while he remained leaning against the wall, finger under his chin as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Knowing you, I guess you’d rather we talk about possible solutions to your current situation?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Jotaro said. “As it always was with the others, it’s a Stand attack and it caused your Jotaro to swap with me, a future version of him. And since I’m here it means that the ability is currently active. The usual solution to this is to find the user again and tamper with his Stand to bring everything back to normal.”

“We’ll simply approach the old man or the agent currently working with him now to find the latest intel on the Stand user. That way, we can track him down faster. However, since they’re currently out wherever, we’ll simply just wait for them to arrive here and then we can ask for the important details.”

You stared at him with awe. “Woah, you’re much more knowledgeable about this whole Stand business than I thought.”

He shrugged. “Years of experience do that to you.”

“I mean yeah but it’s just wild how age can change a person because look at you!” You said as you made a sweeping gesture over his body. “Not only did you age like fine wine, but you actually grew out of your ‘tough guy’ act into this sage-like adult! Look at you openly sharing a strategy that isn’t just punching.”

Jotaro might have blushed at the ‘fine wine’ comment but pretended to not notice it and said, “I’ve always thought about strategies ever since my teenage years. It’d be dumb if the only solution to everything was a heavy punch or two.”

“I did say ‘openly’, didn’t I?” You raised a brow at him. “Let’s be honest, you did often resort to a classic Star Platinum barrage when it’s offered on the table.”

He thought back to his youth and took into account how often he resorted to simple violence as a quick solution to everything. Huh. I guess you weren’t wrong. “Well… you have a point. But let’s say it’s simply me still learning how Star worked. He did just manifest the same year as the trip.”

“You also called him an evil spirit,” you said. “Poor Star when all he did was protect you.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and he could’ve sworn a part of his soul did the same thing in him. “I didn’t know better. Besides, he’s grown to be a reliable companion over the years. That I can acknowledge.”

Then there was a moment of silence where you just stared at him without a word. He kept silent as well, staring out the window as he waited for time to pass. “Oh by the way mister,” he glanced at you. “Is that a wedding ring snug on your finger?”

Admittedly, he never expected you to bring up that specific observation but he should’ve seen it coming when he had his arms exposed and crossed for you to eventually see. “Yeah. What about it?”

With a smug look, you interlocked your fingers under your chin and said, “Who’s the lucky person Mr. Kujo?”

Jotaro stared at you and various images of an aged version of you flashed in mind; memories of you during your wedding day, to when he accompanied you as you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, down until you brought your daughter Jolyne into the world and watched her grow into a confident woman with him by your side.

He broke his gaze with a cough and feigned casual stoicism. “I can’t disclose future events.”

Being the same perceptive individual as he knew you in the future, you smirked with a knowing look. “I see. I must say, how lucky they were to bag someone so intellectual and strong. What do you do again aside from tracking Stand users of course? I’m curious.”

“Primarily, I work as one of the leading marine biologists in the institute I’m under, but I part-time as a biology professor at a university in Florida as well.”

“Ooh~” you drawled with an impressed yet bashful smile growing behind the hand covering your pink cheeks. “Such accolades. Guess that interest of yours really took off, huh?”

Jotaro curled his lip, proud of himself for once. “It appeared so.”

“Gotta take notes for when 17-year-old you return,” you snickered. “Got any kids?”

“Perhaps.”

“How many? Girl or boy?”

“A daughter.”

You cooed, holding back a squeal of wholesome adoration. “I knew it. I figured you’d be a girl dad! I can only imagine how cute she is.” Jotaro smiled again. Jolyne was his little bundle of joy indeed. “Though if I’m gonna be honest, I thought she had siblings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, weren’t you going at it as passionate lovers?”

Jotaro choked on his spit, caught off guard at the sudden question. “Well we are busy adults so we didn’t get many opportunities, but in the occasional moments we do, it is indeed… passionate. You did have the stamina and vigor to ravage me when you could.”

You stared at him, stunned. “What?”

He stared back, not registering what he said. “What?”

And then silence again between two staring individuals.

“Y/N! Jotaro! We’re back!”

Both you and he snapped out of the unintentional staring contest, each of them covering their embarrassed faces behind their hands as they looked anywhere but at each other. You dumbass. Why did you say that?

“W-Well,” you started. “They’re here now. I guess we start finding the guy responsible for this?”

Jotaro reeled from his minute-long foolishness and put his default stone-faced expression back on. “The sooner the better.”

---

Just as he said, beating the enemy Stand user the second time did the trick.

To start, upon seeing one of their companions aged up significantly, the Crusaders reasonably questioned both of you about what the hell was going on and you explained half of what had happened, only for Jotaro to help you out by continuing the other half of the conversation.

And you weren’t going to lie, but learning that he was able to voice out his thoughts more openly than before was both admiring and attractive. But your apparent affinity for hot older men with kids will be tackled on another day. Probably never.

After disclosing the need to locate the pocket sand Stand user, Mr. Joestar and the agent working with him were able to track his current location and the first second it was revealed, both of you wasted no time and hurried over to the man responsible.

Luckily for both of you, you didn’t have to resort to any more violence as the user- already beaten down and recovering from his injuries- complied with whatever you wanted out of him and let him hand over his magic Stand sand.

You and old man Jotaro said your goodbyes. It was nothing too special nor was it anything emotional. You were surprised to see a future version of your boyfriend, got fascinated by his progress in life, and now not only were you about to meet up with the current Jotaro and spill the news about what he was to become, you also got to bring back the adult to his timeline.

A win-win for everyone.

Little did you know just as the sand struck him again, the plumes still managed to fly onto your face and caused your eyes to shut and your brain to fuzz out momentarily.

When you opened them again, you were met with the classic punk delinquent Jotaro that you knew and love.

He coughed and waved the remaining sand cloud hovering around you and said, “What the hell was that?”

“An inconvenience that’s what,” you said. “Oh! By the way, I have something to share with you!”

“Same. You go first.”

“Alright, so…” You started with enthusiasm, only for your words to trail off as your mind ran blank. “I… uh, I don’t remember what I was about to say actually.”

Jotaro crossed his arms. “Oh really?”

“You know I don’t joke about this,” you whined. “Well, how about you go ahead and tell me about your day then, hm?”

He didn’t say anything as he looked elsewhere, eyes deep in concentration as he was trying to search for a specific memory in his brain, and after a minute or two of nothing, you smirked at him. “Well? Where’s the story time, Jotaro-ssi?”

“Fuck, I can’t recall anything.”

You chuckled. “I thought so. Serves you right for doubting me.”

“H-Hey, can I go now?”

You and Jotaro turned to the meek ex-enemy Stand user, hands up under the heavy weight of your stares. He looked at you and cocked a brow. “Your call.”

At that, you shrugged. “Sure.” You turned to the delinquent with a content smile. He, in turn, averted his gaze away from yours with faint reddened cheeks. “I already got what I need from you.”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jotaro kujo

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caashmoneynae · 5 months ago

Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: got inspired to write about Raq’s pretty self after i seen this edit. 😉

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

❦

YOU'RE MINES STILL. (GxG)

PATINA MILLER AS “RAQUEL THOMAS” FROM RAISING KANAN x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Simone & Raquel were toxic to each other and ended on bad terms because of this, but when Raq hears about her having someone else, she decides to pay Simone a visit. ✨ | partially inspired by this tiktok 🤣

❦

𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗘 stood in the dressing room of "Chocolate City" — the strip club she worked at — as she adjusted her outfit, taking her time to analyze her appearance while she fiddled with her skirt.

it wasn't time for her to go on stage yet, but she still wanted to look her best for the time being.

the woman flipped her ass-length black box braids out of her face as the door to the dressing room opened, revealing one of her coworkers and friends Destiny — who was known as "Rubi" on stage due to her signature red color that was displayed in her outfits.

"you know you not due on stage for anotha' 30 minutes, right?" Destiny asked, raising a brow, as Simone nodded her head and let out a soft chuckle.

"Divine always gotta' stay ready, boo. you know that." Simone smirked, referencing her stage name, as she playfully smacked her own ass and Destiny laughed at her before shaking her head.

"stayin' ready fa' Raquel, huh?" Destiny joked, smirking widely, as Simone smacked her lips and her posture stiffened, her face scrunching up at the sound of that woman's name while Destiny guffawed at the change in her demeanor.

to keep it brief: Raquel and Simone used to be a thing, and their fling was as toxic as ever. there would be lots of arguing, lots of breaking up, and lots of making up — until one day, the making up stopped and the two never reconciled again.

Simone had no problem with the business Raquel ran and honestly tried her best not to be involved in it, despite often being questioned by Detective Burke and other officers about her involvement with Raq. but once they stopped speaking, Simone deaded everything between them. she stopped speaking to her, stopped returning her calls, and just started avoiding her as much as she could whenever she was out, which included ignoring her brothers, but she still spoke to her son and her niece whenever she saw them.

Simone could no longer stay in that toxic environment anymore, and with the police constantly spying on her and trying to "catch" her doing something illegal, that just made it worse. so she did what she thought was best and left the environment for good.

but knowing Raq, Simone knew there was only a matter of time before she tried to weasel her way back into her life, and she'd be gullible enough to fall for it.

"i ain't mean to kill ya high, girl, c'mon! come get a drink wit' me!" Destiny giggled as she grabbed Simone's hand and led her to the door while Simone secretly mugged the girl behind her back.

"yeah, you owe me one after bringin' that shit up."

—

"...then that bitch had the nerve to push me, girl, i was 'bout to bash her muh'fuckin' head in, she clearly ain't know who she was fuckin' wit'!" Destiny scoffed, recounting an interaction with one of their coworkers that happened when Simone was off, as she shook her head and Simone chuckled while taking a sip of her drink.

"i'm tellin' you, Des', bitches around here always fuck with bitches who they know can beat they ass just for a lil' bit of street cred'. they don't fool me wit' that shit, i'on play that fuck shit," Simone chuckled, pushing a few of her braids behind her shoulder, as "I'm Still Waiting" by Jodeci began to play in the club and Simone raised a brow, shaking her head before scoffing, "outta' all the songs, why the DJ play this shit? c'mon now, man."

"must be a sign, babygirl." Destiny winked, making Simone mug her, as Destiny laughed and Simone chugged her drink, slamming the glass down like a shot glass while she cleared her throat.

❝ IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I TOUCHED A LADY, AND I'M STILL WAITING FOR YOU TO COME BACK TO ME, BABY. ❞

"i'm 'bout to get pissed off," Simone mumbled, making Destiny burst out laughing, as Simone turned to Eleanor — the bartender — and gently pushed her glass toward her, "refill, please, Ellie."

"before you get that refill, lemme' holla' at you real quick, Simone." a familiar voice called out as Destiny nearly caught whiplash turning around and her eyes locked on Raquel, making her laughter intensify while she nudged Simone with her elbow.

"Raq', i ain't got shit to say to you—"

"well, i got a lot to say to you. so, bring ya ass on." Raquel interrupted the woman as Simone raised a brow and looked back at her, looking her up and down before scoffing.

"i'll be back, y'all." Simone mumbled, making Destiny smirk, as Simone side-eyed Destiny and mugged her before hopping off the stool, adjusting her skirt on her ass before walking behind Raquel.

as soon as the two walked out of the door, Raquel grabbed Simone by the arm and pushed her up against her white truck, making Simone's eyebrows furrow while she looked between Raquel's firm grip and dark eyes.

"Raq', if you don't get—"

"stop callin' me that, Simone, you know i hate that shit," Raquel demanded, her voice as firm as her grip on Simone's arm, "the streets been talkin' lately. and they been tellin' me you fuckin' with somebody else. that true?"

"as if that's any of your business." Simone mumbled, rolling her eyes, as Raquel chuckled and let go of her arm, gripping her neck instead and resting her thumb on her chin to lift her head.

"it is my fuckin' business, the fuck you talkin' 'bout? you foreva' gon' be my girl, Simone, get that shit through yo' thick ass skull," Raquel growled, leaning in closer to the girl, as Simone folded her lips together and looked into the woman's eyes, seeing nothing but anger and slight lust, "but since you got muh'fuckin' amnesia all of a sudden, i'll happily remind you of who the fuck you belong to."

—

"R-Raquel!" Simone cried, her thighs beginning to burn while she rode the strap, as Raquel wrapped her hand around Simone's neck and yanked her head up before it could fall back.

"uh-uh. look at me, Simone," Raquel demanded, lightly slapping the girl's face, as Simone whimpered and her low eyes locked with Raquel's fiery ones, "you think you can just go around givin' my shit away? huh? you thought i wasn't gon' hear about that shit? you must take me for a dumb muh'fucka', don't you?"

to tell the truth, Simone did start talking to someone new not too long ago. did they have sex yet? unfortunately, yes — and i say "unfortunately" because they were ultimately not good enough in bed — definitely not as good as Raq — and didn't fully satisfy Simone's needs, which led her to regret opening up her legs in the first place.

did Simone know Raq would find out? of course, she did — solely because Raquel finds out everything.

"you belong to me. your body belongs to me. and you better believe that pussy belongs to me too, Simone. so, don't fuckin' play mind games wit' me and think i won't find out about the shit you do," Raquel growled as she began to thrust up into Simone from underneath her, "you think my guys still don't keep tabs on you? on where you been? on where you at? on who you been wit' and where y'all been? huh?"

"R-Raquel—"

"shut the fuck up when i'm talkin'," Raquel grumbled, roughly slapping her ass and leaving her handprint behind, as Simone bit down on her bottom lip to keep her eyes from rolling back, "matta' fact, tell me who you gave my pussy to since you wanna talk when i'm talkin'. use that pretty lil' mouth, Simone."

Simone went quiet, her teeth digging deeply into her bottom lip and almost drawing blood from it, as Raquel glared at her and began thrusting at a quicker and rougher rate, her eyes narrowing in slight irritation while she stared at the brown-skinned girl on her lap.

"i-it was a g-girl from th-the Bulletproof R-Records sh-showcase!" Simone yelped, feeling the tip of the strap roughly jab into her g-spot several times, as Raquel raised a brow at her and chuckled darkly, shaking her head while she tightened the grip on her neck.

"Lou's showcase? and you thought i wasn't gon' find out, Simone? i look fuckin' stupid to you or somethin'?" Raquel growled, furrowing her brows, as she harshly slapped the girl's other asscheek and left another handprint, "all my peoples was in that bitch that night and you thought nobody was gon' tell me 'bout the wack ass bitch tryna' make moves on my girl?"

"n-nooooooo!" Simone sobbed, stray tears beginning to roll down her rosy brown cheeks, as Raquel smirked sadistically watching the tears roll down her face, knowing she was starting to get to the girl, "i-i'm about to—"

"you're about to hold that shit, that's what you gon' do," Raquel chuckled bitterly as she abruptly stopped her thrusts and lightly tilted her head at her, "you out here fuckin' otha' bitches and think i'ma let you cum? you must really be fuckin' crazy, Simone."

"no, no, no — please! i'm sorry, Raquel, i won't give yo' pussy away no more, just don't leave me like this," Simone begged, looking at the woman with teary eyes, as Raquel looked at her with a blank stare, that same smirk still written on her face, "...please, baby?"

"that "baby" shit not 'bout to work on me right now, Simone. you want that nut? you betta' work for it," Raquel chuckled, raising a brow, as she caressed her hip with her fingertips, "betta' put these hips to good use, mama."

Simone gently bit down on her bottom lip as she gripped Raquel's shoulders, her acrylics crazing the woman's bra straps while she began to bounce at a steady pace. Raquel continued to grip Simone's neck as she held her head up, refusing to let her look away from her eyes — and to be honest, Simone was afraid to because Raquel was unpredictable. Simone bounced and rolled her hips on the strap as her eyebrows lightly furrowed and her eyes slightly fluttered, her lips sitting ajar while Raquel licked her lips at her.

"there you go, pretty mama. work for that nut like a good girl." Raquel praised, that same smirk still on her face, as she rubbed Simone's sore, red asscheeks and Simone whimpered at the contact, her walls contracting around the strap while her orgasm snuck up on her for a second time — and Raquel could sense that it pending because Simone started riding faster and rougher than before.

"you gon' cum, baby? hm? you gettin' your reward for ya work?" Raquel cooed as Simone rapidly nodded her head and her jaw sat open while involuntary moans and cries fell from her mouth, "promise me somethin' and i'll let you cum, Simone."

"a-anything!" Simone didn't realize the potential risk of the answer to Raquel's statement, and honestly, she didn't care. she couldn't focus on anything else but getting her orgasm, and if she had to promise something to Raquel, she'd do it, no questions asked.

Raquel chuckled tauntingly and her smirk widened as she leaned in closer to Simone and rested her forehead on hers, watching her struggle to hold eye contact with a smug look in her eyes.

"Don't give my shit to nobody else."

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sunnysidevans · 2 years ago

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Middle Of A Memory - J.Seresin

Synopsis: Jake Seresin was an asshole, everyone knew it. He flew with confidence and held a cocky smirk. Behind every cocky smirk and snark remark was you, built into his memories, memories he always lived in.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin X Pilot!Reader - CallSign: Hela.

Warnings: 18+,mentions of alcohol, mentions of flying accidents, mentions of death, swearing, angst and of course fluff.

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave”

The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand and his body stiffens at the sound of Rooster's voice, causing him to stand from the pool table.

He knew he needed to keep his cool in front of the group of aviators. He plants his signature smirk on his lips, making his way to Rosster, looking over his face.

The smirk covers the thoughts running through his mind as he is quiet for a bit too long for Hangman. “Anyone who follows you” he leans back on the pool table, a smirk plastered on his lips. “Is just gonna run out of fuel” he tilts his head.

“You are just too snug on your perch” he pushes off the table, his back to the group he lets his facade falter.

He never wanted the group to know that Rooster hit a nerve.

His face remained stone as he turned back to the group, his mind on one thing, you.

Tennessee.

The bar was packed full for Friday night. The sound of the jukebox could be heard for miles. You grin, pushing into the crowded bar, looking around for the group of friends you were meeting. With none of them in sight you walk towards the bar, sliding on one of the stools. The bartender grins at you with a raise of their brows.

She chuckles, “new to the area?” she asks as you chuckle, eyes moving to her face. “What gave me away?” she shrugs, “I just get the impression you are not from here” she nods as you smile. “I am not, I just got stationed here” she grins, looking you over. “Army?” she asks as you laugh, head falling back. “No Ma’am I am Navy” she grins wider.

“I don’t see them very much” smirking, you shoot her a wink. “No, we certainly do not” the southern accent pulls your attention to the left. He’s leaning his elbow on the bar as your brows furrow, looking up at the sunkissed man beside you.

He grins, looking you over and then back at the bartender. “I’ll take another beer and add whatever the lady is havin to my tab” she smirks and moves her way across the bar. Sitting back in the chair, you look up at him, “well thank you for buying my drink” you say.

He smirks, nodding looking back down at you, “what brings you to lil ol tennesse?” he asks as you shrug, thanking the bartender. “Work for the most part” he nods, pulling the stool beside you closer, to the point your knees were touching as he sat down.

“Well, welcome, I’m Hangman” he holds his hand out with a smirk. You hold back the chuckle, raising your brows, you decided to play along. “Hangman? Did your mother hate you?” he laughs, shaking his head, “it’s my call sign, I’m a Naval Aviator” you nod slowly, biting back your growing smirk.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Hangman” you shake his outstretched hand, noticing your group of friends make their way in.

You stand and send him a smile, “Thanks again for the drink” you wink over your shoulder, walking towards the girls. “He was cute,” Raven, your best friend says.

“Please Ray, he’s a pilot, major red flag” you smirk as she chuckles, “So is that your red flag too?” you laugh behind the straw of your drink.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly. Raven had a smirk on her lips as she danced to the Usher song playing through the speakers.

She points toward you seated with your third drink, motioning you to her. You laugh, setting the drink down and walking towards her.

Her hands fall to your hips, pulling her body into your own, whispering loudly in your ear, “you should go dance with hot cowboy!”. You laugh, hands falling on top of hers, “I don’t know Ray” you look up and as if he knew you were talking about him, he smirks and meets your eyeline.

“Do it! You need to get laid!” you shove her shoulder gently, catching her stumbling body.

“Fine!” you smirk as she laughs loudly. Raven watches as she cheers behind her own solo cup, looking at her over your shoulder with warning eyes. In the process, you don't notice Hangman making his way to meet you halfway. “Wanna dance?” he smirks, startling you as you meet his eye. Smirking, you holding your hand out to him, he takes it and pulls your back into his chest.

He chugs the last of his red solo cup, handing it off to someone beside him and lands his hands on your hips.

He leans down, lips brushing your bare shoulder causing a shiver down your spine, he smirks. “You are quite beautiful” he whispers in your ear, nose brushing your hairline as he stands to his full height. You laugh, head falling back onto his shoulder as your hips continue to grind against his own.

The bodies were sweaty, his musk was intoxicating more so than the shot of vodka in your drinks. Turning to face him, your forehead resting against his own as his smirk stayed tattooed on his lips.

Looking up at him through your lashes he grins, winking as the two of you make eye contact. “(Y/N)!” you turn to Gypsy, another girl that came out tonight. She smirks looking between the two of you, eyes falling back to you. “Hi Jakey” he grins, nodding towards her with a grin, hands still attached to your hips.

“Jakey?” you question slowly, in your intoxicated state thoughts moved slower. Your hand slides down his chest, “oh my god, big brother Jake?!” your finger is planted against his chest as you look at Gypsy. She nods, smirking as your eyes widen. “Anyways, Raven got a text from Bradley” you sigh, nodding.

Your hand continues it’s journey down Hangman's chest, landing on the buckle of his jeans with a smirk on your lips as your eyes meet his again.

“Nice dancing with you, hungman” kissing his cheek, you hurry over to the group of girls. In a blink of an eye, you were gone.

“Ladies and gentleman” Admiral Cain smirks from the front of the room full of aviators. “We have someone new joining our squad today” he stands with his hands on his hips, “she’s coming to us from Florida down in Pensacola, her skills will be an asset to this squad”. Walking into the room and shutting the door gently behind you, the smile on your lips is not hard to miss.

“I welcome, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), call sign Hela '' making it to the front of the room, you shake Admiral Cain’s outstretched hand. Raven smirks from her own seat at the look on Jake’s face at the sight of you.

“Let’s see what you got” he dismisses the group as everyone makes their way out of the room, green eyes stayed burned into your flight suit as you followed.

``You’re a pilot?” he asks, his voice full of southern charm. You sigh, turning to face him. “I am” you smirk, his own smirk grows. He holds the toothpick between his teeth, looking you up and down in the green flight suit, it was sexier to him than the skimpy outfit you had on the night before.

He holds his hand out again, “Jake Seresin” you shake his hand slowly. “I know who you are” you say, watching his face as he shrugs.

“You know of me darling, you’ve now formally met me” he winks.

“So, Hela huh?” he asks, following beside you towards the tarmac. “Named after the goddess of Death” you chuckle, grabbing your helmet on the way out the door. “Let's see if you can keep up hangman, or do I call you Hungman?” you wink.

“Can’t wait to see you fly Hells Bell” rolling your eyes, you look back at him. “What did you just call me?” he smirks,

“welcome to the south sweetheart”.

The ground was never as easy as the skies were, you were more comfortable flying a multi-million dollar plane instead of walking on the ground. “So, Hela” Jake’s voice is slightly distorted on the comms but you don’t miss it.

“What could you possibly want?” you ask, turning to see him beside your own plane. “Are you ready to have some fun?” he asks as you chuckle, looking around.

“Two bogies” you motion to him with a nod veering aside to move below him. He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. The comms fell silent only for a matter of minutes. “I could really use some help here” you grunt, continuing to attempt to avoid lock on yourself.

"Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Hangmans coming” you can hear the grin in his voice. “get down here and help me you glorified ken doll” he chuckles. “You wound me” you smirk behind your mask, moving below the boogie, they flew above you and straight ahead.

“I got you Hells” if you could count the amount of time you rolled your eyes. “I’ll see you back on the ground” you mumble, flying back to the base.

The cold shower was cool on your skin causing you to close your eyes. Being the new kid was never easy nor was it easy getting now with the attention of Jake Seresin.

“Jake likes you,” Raven says from the bench as you sigh.

“I don’t understand why he’s known me for a total of two days” you push the water out of your face with a groan. “You practically gave him a hard on at the bar, probably gave him one today” you laugh, stepping out the shower with the towel around your body.

“You okay?” you question, standing in front of her. She nods slowly, looking up at you with a shy smile, “everything okay with Brad?” you ask as she nods. “He got into Top Gun'' you grin, sitting beside her.

“That is wonderful!” you laugh as she nods sadly. “What is it?” you ask, picking up on the sadness in her voice. “I just want to be there with him,” she admits as you shake your head, standing up.

“You will totally be there with him before you know it!” she nods with a smile, standing herself.

“Are you coming tonight?” she asks, the squad was going out for drinks down the road from base. “I-I don’t know” you admit as she groans, “please hels?” she asks as you nod slowly. “I'll think about it” she nods with a smile on her face, kissing the top of your head as she exits the room.

You've been in Tennesee almost 10 months. On base with not one Seresin but two. "Please hels come out tonight!" Gypsy pleads from your the closet, shuffling through the clothes. "Why?" you ask from the bed, looking up from the book you were nose deep in.

"So you can flirt with Jake and get it over with" she admits, stopping at the surprised gasp you let out. "What are you talking about?" knowing the growing smirk on the younger Seresin's lips, you regretted asking.

"You and Jake flirt, you have since you got here, I think you should come out and show him what he’s missing" you laugh, nodding slowly. "What he’s missing? And that’s what exactly?” she shakes her head, hands on her hips as she turns to face you.

"Remember the army sergeant? Who was just head over heels for the hot naval aviator? What was his name?" you laugh, falling into the sheets. "Do not bring dylan into this!" you defend as she smirks leaning over you.

"You're coming."

The summer sun was slowly setting as the bar crowd made their way into the bar. You smile, looking around the bar. Girls danced on the bar as two women behind them happily gave drinks and shoved tips in their shirts.

“Is this a coyote ugly bar?” you ask Gypsy who grins from ear to ear. You laugh shaking your head, walking through the crowd, once you get closer a name calls for you.

“(Y/N)!?” you look up and see the eyes of the redhead from the bar looking down at you.

“Oh my god, Wanda?!” you yell back, moving closer to take her outstretched hand. “Are you kidding me?! What are you doing here?” you yell over the music as she grins, “Vis is stationed here too!” she grins as you laugh, squeezing her hand.

“I’m so happy for you!” you smile, taking the beer from her hands. “I’ll be back!” winking, she nods and stands and moves along the bar as you make your way to the crowded table.

Jake and the rest of the pilots had finally shown up. “There she is” you roll your eyes at Jake’s drawl, smirking at the blonde pilot. "Hi Hungman" he smirks at the nickname, noticing the short neckline of your top tonight. He notes it was similar to the one you wore when he first met you.

You move to stand beside him and turn to your friends. Raven is nose deep in her phone and Gypsy is flirting with one of the other pilots on the squad.

You couldn’t quite remember how many drinks you had or how you managed to get up on the bar with Wanda.

The group of aviators left you unsupervised for a matter of minutes and you were gone, like a child.

“Where’s hell's bell?” Jake asks, looking around the table as Gypsy shrugs, her eyes slowly land on you. “Uh, Jake” she nods towards the bar as you are taking Wanda’s outstretched hand. Climbing up with her as you gasp as No One Like You by Scorpions blasts through the speakers loudly.

“Gooooooood Evening Tennessee!” Wanda yells into the megaphone. “We have ourselves a special guest tonight, a former coyote herself now a Naval Aviator!” you laugh at the cheers in the bar, holding the beer up. “Give it up for our very own” everyone claps as you take wanda’s hand, swaying your hips. “Oh Jesus” Jake mumbles under his breath, setting his beer down and excusing himself from the conversation.

He was curious to see what happened but knew he couldn’t let you embarrass yourself very long.

Wanda’s hands land on your hips as your hips sway against hers, the crowd cheering as you bend down, running a hand up your bare thighs and standing with a flip to your hair. “I didn’t know she had it in her” Jake makes note to his younger sister who stood beside him, “I did” she winks. “I should probably get her down,” he says more to himself as she shrugs, “give her time”.

As the chorus plays the buttons on your blouse slowly come down and before Jake knows it, your plum lace bra is on full display.

Walking along the bar, you swing your shirt in your hands as a cowboy would a lasso, crouching down to get the money that fell in front of you. Standing back to your full height, you don’t notice him or his blonde hair right away, singing along loudly to the speakers.

He reaches forward, his hands falling behind your knees, jumping at the feeling of someone's hands on you, looking down at his smirking green eyes.

“C’mon Hell’s Bell, you’ve had enough fun for tonight” you laugh, head falling back as you laughed harder. Wanda makes her way over then noticing his hands at your knees.

“Hey now!” he holds his hands up in defense, she notices then the service khakis , “are you part of her squad?” she asks.

He nods and before you know it the world is upside down and you are face to face with Jake Seresins ass.

Jake gently sets you in the passenger seat of his truck, shutting the door quietly as you slump back into the soft interior. “Be careful” Gypsy has her hands on her hips, Jake notes she looks just like their mother. “I will, I’ll be back before you know it” she nods, patting his chest and walking to her own vehicle.

He climbs in as you are fumbling with the radio, “do you have anything good on this thing” your words are slurring. “Sit back, I will pick something” he smirks at the small huff you let out as your body hits the seat.

The roads are quiet in the early hours of the morning. Jake is skipping through songs at the red light as you gasp, “no no go back!” you protest, he furrows his brows and turns the song back. You grin as Waiting for a Girl Like you by Foreigner plays softly.

Reaching over, you turn the song up loudly and roll down the window. The summer breeze felt amazing against your skin as you sang along loudly. “Hela, get your ass back in that seat” Jake looks over as your seatbelt is unbuckled, he was not driving fast or dangerously but he can see the gears turning in your mind.

The upper half of your body is leaning out the window, your hand grips the handle above the window as you pull your hair out of the pony tail you opted for the evening.

“I’ve been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive!” you sang loudly, Jake hears you clear as day as you're hanging out his passenger side window, singing loudly to the eighties hit.

Jake knew at that moment, you were going to be one of the best people in his life.

San Diego.

Top Gun.

Everything in your naval career led to this moment, “I’m sending you to Miramar so pack up your shit” Admiral Cain grins from his seat, standing as he holds a hand out to you. “I am excited for you Hela” he shakes your outstretched hand as you grin.

That’s how you found yourself here, The Hard Deck bar.

Walking through the door, you are taking a look around the room. You make your way to the bar, sliding into the vacant seat farthest from the door. A shadow casts over the dim lighting causing you to look up at the smiling face. “You're a new face” she grins, setting her towel aside. “I just got in a few hours ago” she nods, reaching for the cold beer in the fridge under the bar.

“I’m Penny” she sets the beer down, winking and walking to another customer. You couldn’t understand how you made it here, the next class at Top Gun.

Sipping slowly on your second beer, you notice his laugh first. Ears perked up at the familiar sound, looking around as his laugh continued.

Jake Seresin was in this bar.

A smirk grows on your lips at the jukebox across the room. Sliding out of your seat and making your way over to the box, you slide the change into the slot and pick the one song you knew would trigger something in the aviator.

Jake's ears perk up at the sound of Foreigner but thinks nothing of it.

He knew the chances of you being in this bar were slim, the two of you hadn’t seen the other in almost two years. Thick as thieves, he was your best friend, you've kept in touch the whole time, random phone calls and sparse text messages.

“Excuse me Lieutenant '' the voice is soft and high pitched as he smirks at the snickers of his friends. They see the smirk on your lips, of course the group has no idea who you are but you still signal for them to keep quiet.

Jake turns around and his body goes slack.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, dressed in your service khakis and a smirk on your lips.

“Hells bell?!” he’s shoving the beer into his friend's hands, arms wrapping around your waist and spinning your body around. You laugh, arms wrapping around his neck and hugging him tighter.

“Hi Hungman '' he laughs into your neck, setting you to your feet. “Oh my god you made it to Top Gun didn't you?!” he asks, hands landing on your elbows.

The grin grows on your face as you nod, looking up at him. His face held nothing but pride as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Oh my god, I am so proud of you” you laugh, hugging his neck tighter, “I’m proud of you, I’m so excited we're doing this together” you admit, his smile grows. He pulls you into his side as his arm remains on your waist with a hand on your hip and faces his group of fellow aviators.

“Gentleman, I’d like to introduce to Hela '' you grin, holding out a hand towards them, “nice to meet you”.

The waves crashed against the shoreline, sending a slight shiver down your spine as you stood beside Jake, hugging his arm. “I can’t believe we’re here” you whisper, mostly to yourself but he grins.

“I know” you sigh, head falling to his shoulder. “I wish Gyps and Raven were here” he chuckles as you look up to meet his eye, “What am I chop liver?” he asks as you shake your head. “I’m so excited to do this with you Jake” you look over his face with a grin.

He leans down and kisses your forehead, “me too, of course it would be so amazing to have Gypsy but I am excited to go through the challenge with you” you blush, hiding your face against his service khakis, kissing his shoulder.

Chuckling, he rests his head on top of your own, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side.

“Welcome to California Hells Bell '' you giggle, hugging his waist as your head falls into his chest.

“We’re gonna kick Top Guns ass” you grin.

The classroom was filled to the brim of Top Gun students. Shuffling through the door quietly, you look around for the blonde gel-covered hairs. He twirls the toothpick between his teeth as you smile, moving to sit beside him. “Good Morning” the man stands in the front of the room, hands behind his back.

“I am Admiral Bates, one of your instructors here at top gun” he smiles and eyes the room before continuing on, “and of course our airboss, Admiral Simpson'' he nods to the man at the back of the room who smiles.

“You are all here because you are the best the Navy has seen” he paces in the row of seats, “someone saw something in you all and thought you’d be perfect for Top Gun'' you turn towards jake, a smirk on your lips, “he means me” you whisper, nudging his shoulder. He rolls his eyes with his own grin, looking back at Admiral Bates.

“In the six weeks you are here, you will have a mix of things here at Top Gun, of course you will have airtime but also classes on the ground that you will need to complete before the air time” Admiral Bates seemed as the more laid back instructor compared to Admiral Simpson. “We can’t wait to see you all compete for the number one seat” Admiral Simpson says from the back of the room.

“Let's start today’s lesson, a good ol 'dog fight in the skies?” Admiral Bates questions as Cyclone grins, “I say we give 'em a shot”.

The aviators sat perched perfectly on your nose as you looked over the F-18, preflight pre-checks were something you took very seriously. “Hells bell!” you turn at the sound of Jake’s voice with a grin.

He makes his way in front of you, his own sunglasses perched on his nose, the sun kissing him almost perfectly.

You squint behind your aviators, looking up at him with a smile, “you ready?” he asks as you smirk, hands on your hips. “I’m always ready, Hungman” he chuckles, looking at you with a wide grin. “You still my wingman?” you ask, looking over his face as the smile breaks out across it. “Obviously, you aren’t going to get rid of me that easily '' your smile is contagious as one breaks out of Jake's face.

The two of you lean forward, foreheads falling against the others, “Fly Fast"' you wink with a whisper as your hand reaches out to the nape of his neck. He grins, his own hand reaching out to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers in the gel-covered hairs, “Fly Safe” he whispers back to you.

You and Jake started the small tradition before you were shipped back to Florida, always encouraging each other to fly fast but always fly safe, it was something the two of you told the other everytime you were in the skies.

“I got Warlock on my six” you mumble into your comms, looking out the canopy at the jet low in the hills. “I got you, tell me what we're doin” Jake replies, looking down from his canopy at you on his six. Smirking behind your oxygen mask, you look up at his jet, “I’m going after him”.

He holds back his chuckle, watching as you turn and head down to follow Warlock.

“You got him Hels!” Jake yells behind his comms as you continue after Warlock. He flies beside you, watching as you continue to attempt fighting off Warlock. “Hels, go left I’ll go right and split up in the canyon” Jake mumbles as you nod, looking over at him. “You got it”. The two of you break in opposite directions and move through the canyon.

Within seconds Warlock had tone on your jet, “Shit!” you grunt, slamming your hand against the glass. “That's a kill Hela, head back to base” Warlock says over the comms as you make your way back to base.

Landing on the tarmac, you huff and climb down the ladder, pulling the helmet off your head quickly. Walking towards the door, you ignore Jake making his way towards you.

"Hells bell!" he yells, joggin to keep up. "Hela!" he yells, hands on his hips as he watches your body stop. He approaches you slowly, “Look at me” he whispers, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Avoiding his eye, he tilts your chin up to meet his green eyes. You were never one to take losing easily and always discouraged yourself.

“You did great and did everything you could” he whispers as you nod slowly, “I still got myself killed, if I get myself killed, I can get you killed" your voice is soft.

He shakes his head, looking over your face, "I'm okay, and we're okay and we have six weeks to perfect it, six weeks to make top gun ours" you can't help the smile that makes its way on your face with a slight sniffle.

“There’s my girl” he smirks, pulling you into his body by the shoulders, walking towards the showers.

Six weeks flew by, graduation snuck up on all of you. Jake was number one and you were his number two. Gypsy sits herself on the bed in your small beachfront home, watching as you adjust your dress whites in the mirror. “I can’t believe you and Jake are number one and two for top gun” grinning, you look at her in the mirror.

“Jake is a good pilot” you smile at the thought of one of your favorite people. “Yet, in the six weeks you’ve been here you haven’t told him how in love with him you are” you chuckle, looking at her with a raised brow.

“You mind your business” she holds her hands up in surrender as you laugh. “We all see the love you have for the other, it’s been there for the last three years” she says, taking your wings in her hands and pinning it to your chest.

“I do love him” you admit with a smile, watching her smile grow in the mirror, “He’s my wingman”.

The ceremony was nice as awards were handed out to each aviator. Taking number two as Jake took home the plaque. You watch as he takes photos with everyone, plaque held high in his hands, his smile even brighter.

“I did it!” a voice whispers in your ear, warm hands placed against your hips, grinning against the beer bottle in your hand. Turning around you are met with his dazzling green eyes and loving smile.

“You did it” you whisper back, holding the beer out to him as he takes it in his own hands, sipping it with a smirk. “Couldn’t do it without my number two” you laugh, hand reaching out to hold onto his arms. “You could’ve done it without me, I know it” you admit as his face falls into seriousness.

“No, I couldn’t have done it without you Hela, any of it” he grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ladies and Gentleman” Cyclone appears at the front of the room, looking around at the aviators and their families. “I hate to cut celebrations short but I just got a call from the high ups, we are needed” he takes the envelope and lists off the names.

You and Jake were the first two listed.

You quickly shake the hand of Mr and Mrs Seresin as they grin at the two of you. Jake’s hand around your waist as the two of you run off. Mrs.Seresin knew the love in your eyes as you looked at her son.

The breeze was setting in as was the evening sun. You stood beside your jet as you went over the missiles and guns attached, pre-flight checklists. “Hela” looking over your shoulder, Jake makes his way to you. He has a smile on his face, the same smile that for the last six weeks brought you so much comfort.

The last three years of your life flashed in your mind. From the moment you met him in that Tennessee bar, to when he carried you home and listened to you sing your heart out to Foreigner.

“Hey” Jake’s voice brings you out of the flow of memories, a smile on his lips.

“Hangman” your voice is soft as he approaches, his brows furrowed. “What is it, are you okay?” he asks, he was never Hangman, always Jake or Hungman, your own twist on his callsign. Nodding as you look up at him “yes, yes” you grin.

He nods slowly, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours.

Your eyes fall closed as your hand reaches back to his nape. “Fly fast” you whisper, squeezing the back of his neck as he grins holding the back of your neck to pull you closer, “fly safe” he whispers. As he goes to stand straighter, you hold him closer.

He furrows his brows, looking at you closely, “what is it?” he asks.

“I love you” looking over his face, he grins, “I love you too Hells bell” you shake your head, pulling away from him.

“I love you, I’ve fallen in love with you. You are my person, my wingman. I can’t imagine my life without you and I know this is the worst time to tell you this as well, we are going on a death mission possibly and if one of us doesn’t come back you need to know how-”

He grins at your rambling, pulling you back into him from the nape of your neck to connect your lips. You sigh against his lips, cupping his cheek and standing on your tippy toes to get closer to him.

“I love you Hela” he whispers against your lips, nudging his nose against your own. “Let's do this, get home safe and I am taking you out on a proper date” he grins at the smile on your face as you nod against his hands, “let’s get home safe”.

The mission started simple, enemy lines using planes identical to the ones you flew to shoot you down. “Hangman!” you pant, looking around you at the two bogies who surrounded you, frantically looking for your wingman. “I see you Hels, I see you!” he yells back, watching as the two of them continue hot on your tail. “Hangman” your voice is calm so calm it sends a chill down his spine.

“Hela, you are okay” you sigh, looking to either side of you, taking a deep breath. “I’m out of flares Jake '' you whisper, looking around the sky as the two bogies are surrounding you.

“Jake, I need you to take these two out” he shakes his head, watching over you. “I am not doing that, that could kill you!” he defends as you sigh.

Flying through the canyon you manage to get one of the planes off you.

In the matter of minutes smoke fills the air. “Smoke in the air!” you yell. Jake watches as the plane shards fall into the ocean beneath him. “Hela!” he yells through the comms.

“Combanchi, do you have visuals on Hela?!” the comms cut out for a short second before they kick back to him,

“negative”.

He grits his teeth as he follows the enemy plane, “Lieutenant, you need to return to the carrier”. He ignores the voice of Admiral Bates as he follows the plane, shooting them down with one missile.

He flies by as the smoke lingers, watching for a parachute in the water, he doesn’t find one.

The rain poured in New York.

Jake stood beside Gypsy and Raven at the back of the ceremony, watching as Admiral Simpson folds the flag and hands it to your mother.

Gypsy sobs beside him, hugging his arm as the cemetery slowly empties and the sea of umbrellas are gone. Just the three of them.

“She’s gone,” Raven whispers, holding onto gypsy’s hand. “I can’t believe this” Gypsy’s body shakes with sobs as Jake gently hands her over to her best friend. “Take her to the hotel, she needs rest” he encourages as the rain pours down onto his uniform. “Jake” Raven looks over his face as he shakes his head watching as she nods, an understanding in her eyes.

He watches as the car door opens and Bob, gypsy’s boyfriend steps out, helping her in and sending her a comforting smile.

He turns to the pile of dirt that is now turning to mud. “This isn’t fair Hels” he looks up at the sky, sniffling as the rain covers his cheeks, running with his tears. “It's not fair I have to say goodbye to you” he looks back down at the pile of mud.

“I miss you already” he sniffles, “I waited a long time for a girl like you” he smiles to himself at the memory of you hanging out the passanger seat of his truck, blaring the forigner song. Sobs take over his body as his knees fall into the mud. “Hey” he jumps at the hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Raven with her own sad smile.

“I know” she whispers as he sobs harder, body falling into hers. “I know” she rubs soothing circles on his back as he sobs into the mud.

“She’s gone and I couldn’t save her Raven” he hiccups, holding onto her as she shakes her head. "It’s not your fault Jake, I know she didn’t feel that way either” she lets him sob in her arms as the rain pours over the both of them. After a few minutes, she encourages him to stand.

He stands, hand holding onto her arm as he takes one look back at where you lay, your dog tags sat in his palm, he knew he should've left them but his heart couldn't part with them.

He turns back one last time at pile of dirt now running with the rain.

Present day.

The raven haired woman comes into his sight before he processes it, “take that back Bradley” Raven defends, looking at her boyfriend and back at Jake. “I’m sorry” Rooster taken back at the sound of his girlfriends voice as he looks at Hangman. Jake shakes his head, handing the pool stick to Coyote, walking out to the back deck of The Hard Deck.

The saltiness of the air filled his lungs, almost burning them. The night of your funeral comes rushing back to him as he watches the waves. “Hangman” he turns at the voice, Bob stands there with a sad smile. “I’m sorry” he whispers, moving to stand beside the blonde.

“It’s okay” he nods, looking over at the WSO. Bob was the only one in the squad who knew about you, he was there for Gypsy at the time of the funeral. “He shouldn’t say that, he doesn’t know what happened” he defends as Jake shakes his head.

“I don’t need to explain myself to Bradshaw, or anyone for that matter,” Jake stands taller, watching as Raven digs into her boyfriend.

“Jake lost his wingman, my best friend” Raven looks between the group of aviators. “(Y/N)” she looks at Gypsy, who has a sad smile at the mention of their friend. “He loves her so much, he hasn't processed her death very well, even after almost five years” Gypsy adds, looking at Rooster.

"Hela?" he asks softly as Raven nods, he knew of you, never getting the chance to meet you but always had the chance to talk to you when he called Raven.

“You know how he got his air to air kill?” Raven looks over, shooting daggers towards Phoenix who looks away ashamed.

“He went after the enemy plane who took her from us" she whispers, hands on her hips.

“He has a right to feel the way he does and act the way he does but, Bradley" she moves closer to her boyfriend, "that was a low blow even for you". She walks past her boyfriend and the group to join the two men on the patio.

She makes her way to them, smiling sadly at Jake, “I’m sorry” she reaches out, hugging him as he hugs her back tightly. “It’s completely okay” he admits, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

The two of them forming a bond since the day at your funeral, she understood what he was going through.

“I’m gonna head home for the night", he stands to his full height. “Big day tomorrow” he chuckles, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he sneaks past the rest of the squad.

Sitting behind the wheel of his truck, his eyes fall to the photo of you against his dash. It was from the first summer barbecue his family always had, the sundress laid against your skin perfectly as you smiled at him. He can feel the same smile deep in his bones as he smiles back at you, “miss you beautiful” his voice was soft in the night.

Jake walked through Top Gun the same way he did the first time, strong and confident. He knew the squad had to know what happened to you, guessing his sister and Raven told them about what happened.

The room was silent as he made his way on deck, sitting down in the front of the room with a smirk on his lips. “Never let them see you fall” your words played on replay in his mind, reminding him he was strong. He looks up as Admiral Bates and Admiral Simpson make their way on deck, standing immediately.

Jake throws himself into flying and flying only. He watches as Maverick makes his way to the front of the room, smirking behind his toothpick, recognizing him not only from The Hard Deck but also from the stories of the famous Maverick.

“Wheels up in 10” he nods, walking past the aviators, Jake stands and is immediately stopped by the admirals.

“Lieutenant Seresin” Admiral Bates stands with his hands on his hips, turning to face him he pulls the toothpick from his teeth. “Yes Sir?” he asks as Admiral Simpson looks at him, “I need you to follow me” he says,motioning to the door.

The squad watches as Hangman follows the Admirals. “What is going on?” Gypsy asks as Raven shrugs, looking between their boyfriends. “Did Jake do something already?” She asks as they all shrug again.

She sighs, hands on her hips as she follows Bob through the hall. The two men knock on the office door, watching the other before a soft voice encourages them in.

“Now Lieutenant” Cyclone looks at Hangman, he remembers him from his time at Top Gun, he remembers the two of you always together. "We know this might be confusing and shocking, so please remain calm" Jake follows the two men and his world stops.

There in front of him stood, you.

You turn from the window, face covered in bruises and a busted lip, covered in your Navy bomber jacket.

Jake felt his world rushing back to him, felt the weight of the last four years almost drowning him as he was staring into the face of death.

“Hi Hungman” your bruised lip smirks back at him.

if you enjoyed this fic, you can find all my other fics here, in the library.

a/n ps: if you've read this far and you're thinking, gosh, I wonder if there's a part two to this, you're totally right, you can find part two to this fic here: "Red Carnations"

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman fic #jake hangman fic

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fanficwriterlover · 1 year ago

Text

My Choice Our Consequence

Chapter 2 (Part 1) : Big News to All

Summary : Hera has returned home, yet your absence has put a damper on the taskforce 141. Everyone is confused of your absence and it takes a lot of getting used to being a civilian now and being pregnant now.

Expectations: Confessions, Past Smut, Shooting, Cursing, Pregnancy, Reveals, Reconnecting, Smoking, Drinking, Assault, Google Translator etc.

Call-Sign: Hera or Lil Light

Word Count: 6.7k

A03 Version

Ghost’s POV

Quit ? You ? That almost seems impossible to believe. He composes himself once more looking at Price for any sign of misunderstanding. But who was he kidding, this sort of topic isn’t something Price would make up into the thin of air let alone joke about. He could tell this was taking a heavy toll on him, as if this was the last thing he would’ve expected. As he should, because he probably was unaware that it was due to him scolding her for making her quit. Least, that’s what he told himself. His eyes narrow seeing the paper before Price, it was your resignation form. You filled it out yesterday and gave it to him. He stood for the longest time processing, had his words been too harsh ? Should be have approached you yesterday and apologized for what he said to you. Yet, Price was the one to pull him from his thoughts… “I was hoping she wouldn’t go about it this way…unless you had a hand in the decision?” he cocks his brow at him waiting. But from the sound of it, why was he asking as if the two of you talked as if you both needed approval from another ? “Sir ?” he was confused, why would he make a decision for you ? Obviously this made Price eyes widen “She didn’t say or mention anything to you ?” he then narrows his eyes on Ghost, Ghost was just as confused as he cocked a brow, crossing his arms over his chest “Should I have been aware of a choice the Sargent had made on her own accord ?” Price huffs at that rubbing his forehead, something was eating at him… like he knew something that Ghost didn’t knows. However he seems to brush it under “Nevermind Simon…I thought you two may have discussed or something before she wrote in her resignation.” He sighs at this leaning back in his chair grabbing a cigar and his lighter. Stressed. This wasn’t at all what they were expecting from you. Out of everyone you were the most driven and dedicated to staying with the taskforce. You saw them as family, and felt accepted. Ghost couldn’t help but feel slightly, disappointed? When he said those words to you, he expected you to more prove him wrong…but guess you didn’t. Yet, why is it bothering him so much that you didn’t. He looks back at the Captain “Sir…was there something I should know" he asks curiously watching the Captains movement as he took a drag of his smoke yet eventually landing his eyes back on him. “Honestly, it’s not my place to say Simon. But, when the time is right, I’m sure you’ll get the answer.” He sighs heavily, Ghost could see traces of stress in his voice that the very idea they’ve lost another member would take a toll. And it would, being asked into this taskforce is no easy deal. You’d be a hard person to replace, and quite frankly it’s too soon for it.

Ghost takes his leave from Prices office, he lingers by the door for a moment processing his words and his own with you. This felt like horrible timing, he wished he knew where you live so he could snap some sense into you. Maybe Johnny or Gaz knows where you live ? Perhaps he should see how they’re handling the news if they know about it. Surely she would’ve said goodbye to her best friends ? Though it’s odd that she didn’t even give Price a chance to coax her otherwise, and why wasn’t Price making efforts to get her back? For her to even leave would’ve required a signature approving her reason to depart, therefore someone higher rank has given it to her. But who ?

He trudges down the halls of the bunkers then sees one of the doors wide open, deep down he knew exactly who the room belonged to, well had, as he stands in front of the doorframe, your room. He can see that the room is a bare state now. The bed perfectly tucked and made, with an extra blanket laying at the end, folded neatly, with the pillow at the top fluffed up. From the desk cleaned with even some new pencils and pens in a cup and blank sheets of papers laid neatly, obviously done for the next person to inherit this room. He couldn’t help but be reminded of how the two of you spent that night together. It was a moment he let himself go, let Ghost go, and brought out Simon. He felt vulnerable to your touch yet felt the power that always coursed through you spread through him. Yet now, as he stands in the middle of your room, it’s cold, empty, lifeless. It feels more as if you were killed off never to be seen again. That made it feel worse. The fact that you made a room warm would be loss now. But most of all, he didn’t realize how dark his vision had become without your energy . You bright aura that shined so dominantly, it gave Ghost a headache sometimes because he was never used to such a sight. No matter when you’ve been shot at, stabbed, nearly blown up (as he still remembers the incident like it was yesterday). Every hellish moment, he was there with you during them saving you at the last minute or finding you. Even then, you never, ever, let it diminish your light. He takes in his surroundings once more, before silently leaving the bunker as he walked out the door he could hear the familiar footfall patterns of two Sargent’s obviously coming down probably to collect you. Instead they are faced with a skull mask.

Gaz curses in a mumble and Johnny practically jumps when Ghost steps out through the room. They both were obviously not expecting the looming man to step from your bedroom, but Gaz quickly recovers. “Afternoon sir, is y/n up ? We hadn’t seen her in a while and thought she was cooping herself up in there.” They both look at him expectantly he frowns a bit, it was a fleeting moment one neither would’ve caught as he now knew, that not only did you leave somehow with approval and never told himself or maybe the captain but you didn’t even tell your closest friends. The Sargent’s. He looks away from them glancing down to the other way of the hall saying gruffly “You won’t find ‘er ‘ere. She resigned from the taskforce.” He could hear the sharp intake of Soap and as he glances at them with his arms crossed now, they both are wide eyed and shocked. Soap is the first to speak “What ?! I don’t fuckin’ believe it !” he peeks into your once room, seeing how bare it is, he start rummaging through everything as if looking for any sign that just maybe, maybe, you left for a bit and would return. He flung open your closet where your clothes used to hang but it was empty, except for extra hangers on the pole and extra blankets, towels, etc laying on the top shelf. Gaz stands there stunned yet, sadden as Soap still seems to refuse you’ve left as he curses “Fuck !” his efforts are to no a vail. You had cleaned out your bunker spotlessly, there was no practical evidence of you living here for all these years. And that’s what hurt more. Gaz mumbles softly. “She didn’t even say bye…nothing…” he almost whispers it. Ghost could tell it was tearing the inside of Gaz. You two were hip and bone. He remembers when the two of you found out that you were part of the same taskforce exclaiming how you both met on a mission in Paris and you were aiding Gaz’s team to collecting more Intel. So seeing that not only were they not told of your soon departure but you had left without a word to your friend. Ghost breaks the annoying silence, in some cases he would’ve enjoyed it, but it was painful now, usually you were the one to break the moment with your cheerful demeanor and made everyone forget what they were glooming or stressing about. Now you were gone. The effects obvious now. “Soap, Gaz, you two are needed to train the privates. Should get to it Sargent’s.” He watches as they both seem to straighten up at the order, walking out of your once room slowly, Gaz lingering last as Ghost observed him. “Did she not say anything to you Lt ?” he still looking at the room but glances his way as Ghost meets his eyes, “No.” Gaz nods his head painfully, almost having to accept the reality, he took his leave of the room leaving Ghost last. He takes one last look, a reminder of the place he seen her so many times, before leaving. He shut the door to your room then went to his office to get some work done. Maybe, just maybe, he hoped they’d see you again. Maybe you would come back ?

Your Pov

Honestly it was scary leaving, the base was your home for so long. Wearing your military attire was all you’ve ever known., yet now you were dressed as a civilian in a cab heading back. Already you felt butterflies in your stomach, it was thanks to Laswell for making the changes and approving you resignation and to leave the base. Already driving home, you were about three hours from your home and already excited to see your mother. You had called ahead to let your mother know you’ll be returning home which she was ecstatic to know you’ll be home. She just didn’t know you were pregnant and you had to leave the taskforce because of it. That was a conversation you were dreading. Your mother being a single mother and raising you on her own, had always wanted you to do better than her. She made the mistake in dating your father who had one too many issues that your mother to this day refuses to share the details. All you knew was you mother hightailed as far as possible, dishonored by her own parents for being knocked up before marriage and choosing to keep you. Yet to her, you were a blessing. You gave her motivation to keep living and honestly embrace motherhood. You were never a complicated child, sure as you got older you rebelled but you respected your mother above all else. She inspired you to join the military because you saw her as fearless and determined as a soldier. The moment you hit 16, things were getting harder financially so you asked her, no pleaded with her to let you join the service. Of course emotionally she refuses but you had encouraged telling her how it was your wish, even though you simply joined to support your mother. Every paycheck you received went to your mother. And you made certain she was given it on time. This allowed your mother and you to look into a new home that was more suitable than a dingy old flat. You both ended up saving up on a nice townhouse that had more rooms than your old flat. It was a three bedroom two bath, a decent size kitchenette, living, and one office. One bedroom is upstairs and the other is upstairs next to the office.

You knew immediately that the third bedroom will likely become your unborn child’s bedroom. A part of you seemed excited to prepare for the baby but another part of you terrified, you left at a crucial time for the team. You would have gone on a mission to eliminate and it was a top priority but now with you out, and no reason to be allowed to return for a long while it broke your heart to think that you’ll be looked at differently. Definitely probably in the eyes of the Lieutenant, you knew he took betrayal seriously and to him you’re probably certain he believes you did just that.

Sighing heavily you rub your brows you draw closer and closer to home, passing by valley, meadows, woods, homes, farmlands and more each passing by in a haze. It’s almost hard to imagine that this world is peaceful when there’s war raging elsewhere. Knowing exactly your team will be giving their lives for this exact peace while you would not be there to see it through. You don’t realize how much driving gone by until you see a familiar street, as your driver turns down it. Your home, how it seemed unfamiliar, all the rows of homes lined up nicely in different shades it was emotional seeing it once more. When the driver finally pulls to the front of your driveway you nearly suck in a breath. Seeing your home digits on the door as you can seeing your mother’s car in the driveway. You smile to yourself, opening your purse you grab out the cash to pay the driver, adding an extra tip for the ride as he gets out to pull out your duffle bag. You travel light, you didn’t have much anyways. Taking it in hand you thank him as he then drives off.

Standing in your driveway it felt unreal, you never thought you’d come home honestly. With always being on mission you honestly thought you’d die on the field before you ever could be home again. As sad as that reality was, you were always away. From one base to another it never ended. And Laswell always needed your for a mission so it was impossible to be in one place for long. Which you didn’t mind, however, sometimes you were homesick or close to facing death. You don’t know how long you were staring at your apartment but the next thing you knew, the door to your home flies open, your eyes quickly snap in that direction, immediately thinking your mother must’ve seen you through the window. She was in pure tears rushing down the three steps as you began to get emotional to “Mom!” you cry as she tightly embraces you you don’t remember dropping your duffle bag you’re just overwhelmed, she’s crying holding you and it makes you feel so loved once again. “Oh my god ! Y/n !” She sniffles as she strokes your cheek looking at your face you had one tiny scar over the top of your brow nothing serious, least not compared to the ones on your body as she hugs you again “I thought you wouldn’t get here for another hour ?” she smiles at you happily taking in that you’re in front of her as you laugh softly “Well, that would ruin the element of surprise.” You wipe your eyes but she immediately begins to do so too before wiping her own. “Come ! Let’s get you inside ! Oh I just can’t believe my little girls home !” you smile bashfully, knowing it’s not the only thing you brought home. Yet you followed your mother waist to waist carrying your duffle as you entered your home.

Couple Hours Later

It doesn’t take you long to settle into your room, your mother insists on making you a grand meal upon your arrival and had even already contacted your Uncle Daryl to come see you. You were his only niece and favorite. He raised you as if you were his own daughter so hearing he’ll be arriving made you smile. As you walked around your place you couldn’t help but smile seeing the pictures hung of the two of you when you were much younger. It almost made you hope you could share the same experiences with your own child…This also made you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to tell your mother and uncle about your unplanned pregnancy. The thought made your stomach feel more acidic, but you kept it down in your stomach. Though the thought quickly left your mind when you nearly jumped from your seat upon hearing the front door open abruptly. Turning your head you see your Uncle Daryl, who obviously out of breath and eyes scanning the place until he sees YOU.

The tears prick at the corner of your eye as you stand up and he takes long strides to meet in the middle. Embracing you in a tight hug. You missed him. Your mother sneaks a peek seeing the two of you embracing as she also starts to get emotional and comes in to join the hug. Your family. One you sometimes forget because you’re so consumed in your job. You don’t know how long the three of you hold each other, or who was the first to withdraw but you sniffle wiping your eyes then smile “Good seeing you Uncle,” he huffs smiling back with the biggest one, showing his dimples. He was your mother’s big brother, so of course he looked after the two of you. He too was part of the military, the Air Force to be exact, and he was another inspiration for you to joining the military. Yet you never imagined you’d be in more dangerous situations than him. “Good seeing you again lil lumière.(little light)” He seems to do a quick scan over you, probably looking for any kind of wounds, which fortunately are in areas well hidden so you thanked your lucky stars. Otherwise he would’ve gone on a rant about how unwise you decided to join the most dangerous type of work. Honestly you were glad you could share a bit with him, of course not classified information but it helped to share her struggles and things only he would understand and handle emotionally better than your mother could. “Momma, is making our favorite tonight.” You giggle seeing his eyes widen with excitement “Oh you shouldn’t have Monica ! Hell, I’m trying to keep this old body still in shape and you trying to fatten me up !” he laughs at this which your mother playfully whacks him on the arm “Only thing fattening you up Daryl is your wine.” You couldn’t help but stifle a snort as he looks at you to her offended “Sorry Unc, she’s got a point.” He grumbles in French, which you caught a little how he says we disgrace the French tongue. However your mother rolls her eyes and goes on her way to continue cooking as you go to sit down with your uncle. “So…what brought you back ? And I don’t want to hear,” as he uses the air quotes incorrectly “That you wanted a vacay. I know you better than that.” He leans close as he was seated across from you in a lounge chair waiting for your response. You shift in your sheet, his narrowing eyes felt the same as your Captain. Which would make sense because your Uncle was once the Commander of his unit. “Well…I resigned from the taskforce…” his eyes shoot wide open, obviously shocked. Yet he goes straight back to composing himself narrowing then once again “Why ?” it came out gruff and you felt like you were on the pedestal being scolded by your homeroom teacher. “I-, I wanted to tell you both honestly…not just one of you.” He cocks his head to the side confused, what you didn’t know was your mother was ease dropping in the conversation as she steps out with concern written on her face “What is it sweetie ?” your uncle seems to be processing and calculating different reasons why you would have resigned from the taskforce, let alone been allowed to. You could practically see the gears in his brain churning with every possibility. You must’ve been holding your breath because you quickly blurted out “I’m pregnant.”

In a quick huff you take in both your uncle and moms facial. Complete shock. Your uncle seems to be going between your eyes and stomach almost probably finding it hard to believe and possibly questioning how along are you because you sure as hell didn’t look it “3 weeks…I’m three weeks pregnant.” Biting your lower lip you couldn’t help but feel anxious with the growing silence between the two as you spoke “Look, I know it’s horrible timing. It wasn’t exactly intentional… and I’ll be allowed back in the task force once the baby is born but the station chief made the call and got me out so no one would question my absence.” You pant out, you said it so quickly your mother must’ve been confused on some parts but her eyes were welling up and it made you more worry that it was because of disappointment “I- I know…I’m so-” your mother latches herself around your neck hugging you as your left dumbfounded as she speaks softly stroking your hair “Oh sweetie, if you’re happy with having this child, I’ll sport and help you. You have NOTHING to apologize for.” she looks you dead in the eyes and you feel a sense of warmth. You should’ve known, your mother would walk through hell with you and trust you entirely. You’ve done nothing but look after her and provide her a good life, so she was beyond willing to do the same for you and your child. You glance over at your uncle who seems to be processing, as he says lowly “I knew something was different about you kid…” you and your mom look at him confused as you never felt nervous until you saw him smile. “You’re glowing as much as your mother did when she was pregnant with you mi lumière” he stands up and comes over rubbing your back at you give him the most appreciative smile “Thank you… both of you” felt like a weight came off your shoulder. Telling them was a big deal and knowing they’d still support you made you feel so much better. You Uncle then looks serious at you “So, do I want to know who the âne (jackass) of a father to this baby is ?” You mother once again reaches over and whacks your uncle who curses “Qu’est-ce que c’est que Monica ?!(What the hell Monica)” you begin laughing as your mother giggles, with your uncle huffing in mild amusement. “Well ?” he cocks his brow looking at you as you blush a bit “I- I can’t tell you yet, but I promise he’s a good man…in his own way.” He squints his eyes at you questioning your choice of words “If that’s so…why isn’t he here ?” obviously your mother senses you tense from the subject giving a glare in your uncle’s direction “What Daryl means is ! As long as he’s a good man we’re happy” he grumbles a bit “Bien sûr Bien sûr (Of course of course) , but why isn’t he here with you meeting us ?” he cocks his brow again as you sigh knowing he won’t be letting go “Because…I didn’t tell him exactly he’s going to be a father…”he rubs his face with both hands obviously more stressed. Your mother seems taken back by this news as she tentatively asks “Why not sweetie ?”

A good question indeed, honestly the idea of telling them the father is your Lieutenant would sending your uncle to his grave early. And no, not from the idea but simply because you know he’d be yelling his hat off to Ghost and would likely get himself well handed to him. Sighing heavily “I didn’t get a chance, they were preparing for a mission.” You’d hope they’d buy it, your mother seems to have. But your uncle ? Hah, impossible he could read you like a book and as he should considering he used to be a commander. You mother claps her hands together standing up “Well ! This is a cause for pie then and I’ll need to run to store to collect some stuff. Write a list dear, I know those growing cravings will get to you soon.” She smiles with delight going back into the kitchen leaving you with your uncle.

He stares at you for a few moments as if waiting to make sure your mother was actually in the kitchen continuing to cook. When he’s satisfied, hearing the clattering of pots and pans against the stove or her bustling through the fridge for ingredients he then speaks lowly “So, what’s the real reason the father doesn’t know?” he squints his eyes at you, felt more like an interrogation then question, however you probably wouldn’t be surprised he’s using his Commander tone in order to get an answer from you. In all honesty it worked. “Because his my superior officer. I was told to tell him but quite honestly I don’t think he would’ve…” you bite your tongue considering your next words tentatively “I don’t think he could handle having a child. He barely knows himself.” You say softly. Hoping your uncle wouldn’t pry further. Which he wouldn’t. He understood every soldier has traumatic experiences in the military especially being in the SAS. He had no doubt you’ve seen things he would’ve rather your eyes never witnessed. With that answer he nods his head. “Well…one of these days you need to tell him. Perhaps you’d be more surprised by the outcome.” He pauses for a moment stroking his chin and looking out the window “If I’m being honest y/n, I think telling the father would make him better. I know when Monica told me, I was horrified for her. But then,” He smiles “Then when you were born it all changed. Before you I was short tempered and…” he grumbles “Not gentle with my choice of words which I got a firm scolding from Monica during his hormonal stages.” The idea your mother would have yelled seems hard to believe, even when you did wrong she never raised her voice at you. “Tell him one day y/n. I think your child deserves that chance at least.” Pondering on his words he leaves the room to go help your mother continue cooking with you contemplating on his words.

Maybe you should…perhaps ? What’s the worst that can happen ? He rejects you once again ? Tells you your on your own when you’ve already mentally accepted that fate ? Maybe your uncle is right, you don’t know. Ghost is still a mystery to you. Sometimes he’s snappy and harsh to others especially during missions. But you know he means well. Infact you couldn’t help but think about the times he was more…nicer to you. Like the time you were at the shooting range you were working with different weapons at the time, but particularly was working with a heavy set rifle that always made you sore in the shoulders…

You huff annoyed after having pulled the trigger on this rifle. It was bulky and heavy, when it fired it sent a painful ache up your shoulder upon impact. Now usually your preferred rifle was lighter and easier to handle the impact into your shoulder. Yet this one, this one was so big and bulky, the idea of carrying it onto the field seemed impossible. You’re only average height standing 5’7, which apparently to everyone else is very small since you usually get picked on. However, you always made up for your size with your agile self and quickness. If a bigger opponent used their full strength you had to be quicker. It’s why you did so well on the field especially hand to hand combat. You had you fair share of training with other recruits, privates, and Sargent’s McTavish and Garrick. Soap always gave you a run for your money but you always held your ground. Yet, you never dared to attempt against ghost. He was a forced to be recon with. You seen soap spar with him and seeing the big brute of the Scottish man easily subdued was terrifying.

Withdrawing your gaze from the scoop you grab the binoculars to inspect how well you shot it, not a bulleye, you hit right outside it. You were close…but it wasn’t good enough. A mere inches off is enough to give the enemy time to fire a shot back at you or detonate you and your team. The progress you’ve made with the weeks of practicing seemed futile. You almost were considering telling price you were not cut out for this particular mission which required you to be watching soaps six while ghost would be overwatch. Why they were making you go, you understood. They wanted to get in quick only relying on stealth and to not attract attention. Not saying ghost would, but his large stature would give way to the enemies quickly. Yet, you’ve seen him infiltrate buildings with ease but this mission was hoping to shed no blood shed. Sighing heavily you lean away from the table, “you keep gripping it like that you’ll never hit your target right.” The words from a deep voice made you almost jump, as you quickly reached for your knife quickly swing it behind you, only for your wrist to be caught, inches from ghosts looming neck. You let out a shaky voice “Lieutenant..” You were embarrassed now, relaxing your stance as he releases his hold on your wrist before looking right over your head where you had missed your target once more already having hit it 7 times to no avail. “When you fire don’t fight against the shot, you tense alters your movement when looking through scope.” He nods his head “Try again.” You raise a brow at him but obey. Not like you’d ignore your lieutenants orders. Facing back and getting into position, you then start to feel his hand readjust your stance, it was subtle, he used his boot to nudge your feet, he used his gloved hand to fix your elbow, then poke at your shoulder to moving it back and relax. When he seemed content after fixing your stance he simply grunts an approval. His back leaning against the table as you take the shot. It felt different, not as abrupt when the bullet launched your whole body seemed to absorb it better, and when you lift your gaze from the scope to look at where it hit you see you finally hit the bulleye. You’re shocked …you made the shot, but that’s not what was shocking to you, ghost helped you make it. Glancing up at him, his posture was looking at the base but his eyes were gazing down at you. “Not bad.” He mumbles before pushing off the table and walking off. You’re left stunned but appreciative. He didn’t have to help you, let alone adjust your stance. You began continuing to practice doing that stance until the day of the mission. Honestly, it paid off.

Now that that you’re thinking back on it, perhaps that’s when you began to notice other subtle gestures Ghost would show to you. At first you just thought it was his way of correcting you but now maybe…it was perhaps he cared enough to do so. He never took the time to do that with other recruits or privates. So maybe ? Perhaps you should give him the benefit of the doubt at least give him the chance to see if he wants to be a part of your child’s life. For now…you’ll wait. You’re certain by now they’re deciding best course of action eliminating General Ghorbani, that was the mission you were tasked to go with Ghost yet instead you’re dealing with his unborn child growing in your stomach. Probably best to wait it out. Though one thing is certain, you owe it to Soap and Gaz…

Few Months After Eliminating General Ghorbani

Ghost’s POV

Recently Ghost was just filling out paperwork, having to write down everything that happened per week for higher ups to see from different points of view. Gaz had gone back to his original base, working to get some intel and Soap, he knew he’d be returning tonight. Felt like everyone had gone their own way. Just the thought of how everyone seemed to slowly fade away made Ghost tense. First you, then Gaz, then Soap, and Price. He knew they’d return but the idea he was surrounded by no one he trusts made it hard. A part of him would never blatantly say it out loud but, the minute you left there was nothing holding them together now. Metaphorically you were the chip on a glass cup that kept everyone together, the minute you fell off the rest soon cracked.

During your absence, he would never admit, he spent every opportunity dwelling on his words to you. He wondered if you hated him so much that you turned on them all because of his choice of words. He felt like a bloody idiot for saying them. The only reason he said it, he had hoped to cut his own feelings for you. It was never to doubt your abilities. Far from it, he knew what an asset you were to the team. Besides your bubbly personality and calmness during tense times you were a skilled fighter. He seen you take down a man not as big as himself, but fairly tall as Soap and you easily had the man struggling to keep up having the man shift to a defense stance. You were a sight when in a fight. In fact it was almost alarmingly attractive to Ghost seeing a women so lean yet small hold your own. The image of you from that night often played in his mind, it was torturous. He can hear how you moaned out his name, arching your back from the immense pleasure and begging him to keep going and give you more. It’s been 5 months…5 long grueling months and not a minute of breather. It’s hard to believe how much he needed your presence, how you kept him sane when not out in the field, in his zone. Sometimes he wondered how he would cope with the life of mundane lively hood. Were you living such ? Knowing what you know and have seen out in the world, did you forget it all ? Did you let your guard down ?

That’s when other thoughts, ones he absolutely hated crossed his mind. Did you find someone ? Probably by now, no doubt in his mind you found a bloody bloke who is a lucky bastard to have such a fearless yet regal women. The mere thought of you walking hand in hand with a man who probably could never protect you as well as you could yourself. But no, the idea that HE wasn’t the one protecting you even though you weren’t a damsel in distress. The urge to always protect you in the field was natural instincts for him. He didn’t realize he was gripping his pen tightly until it snapped. Looking at the broken piece of plastic he let go pushing back from his chair simply looking at his hands.

For years, since he was a mere teenager, he only saw himself capable of fighting. Then when he became a soldier all he could think about was killing. Yet when you joined the taskforce and he had himself between your legs, he could see he could perhaps also be gentle. You brought that innocent Simon Riley out of him, the boy who couldn’t fight against his father’s abuse. Couldn’t stand up for his mother when his father was a drunken state. Yet you, you reminded him that he was very much Ghost and Simon. His hands could touch your perfectly smooth skin gently tracing every inch of you, getting the most pleasurable reaction he ever heard. Yet he could also be rough just enough to send you over the edge and begging, clawing him for more.

Grumbling to himself, he pulls out his packet of cigarettes, grabbing one. Lifting his mask just over his nose, he then put the wrapped piece in his mouth then lighting it. He took a drag before puffing out the smoke, the nicotine hitting him hard as he shut his eyes. He did everything in his power to find a way to look to where you were. But even with his rank, he was limited to much. Couldn’t access the full extent to your file as most of your information was black. Not as covered as his but enough for him to be annoyed with because he bloody couldn’t stand he didn’t know where you were if you’re still alive and how he can contact you. This was an annoying addiction that drove him crazy. Where the fuck were you ?

Gaz POV

Honestly seeing the number pop up on his screen while he was in his bunker on a base near London he frowned at bit. It was his personal phone yet only few people could access it since it was a secured number that could not be traced. So he answered “Ello ?” waiting for a response he almost thought it was someone playing a practical prank on him until he heard a soft familiar voice “Hey Kyle…”, you. He was utterly stunned, his throat felt tight and his heart beating hard. “The fuck…y/n ?” you let out a tired laugh as he felt his heart flutter. “Yeah, it’s me silly. How are you ?” you seemed shy, but the same soft spoken as ever. He didn’t know how long he must’ve been silent but it obviously must’ve made you question “Kyle ? You still alive there bud ?” he snorts “Yeah Yeah, I’m just…wow. I’m shocked if I’m honest. How about you ?” you sigh a bit, he could hear you sounded exhausted. Were you not sleeping ? “I’m doing alright…just tired. I- I just missed you. How is everyone ?Been on a lot of missions since ?” he smiled, you were so motherly, he swear his mother would love to know you had reached out to him… in honesty you two knew each other well. Gaz had brought you once to meet his mother during the holidays and she took a liking to you immediately. His mother would always joke about how you were the daughter she always asked for. “Yeah…I’m actually in London working on getting some Intel. I haven’t heard much from Price. Sure the old man out smoking a cigar on a hunting trip. Soap and I keep in contact…Ghost, well haven’t heard much from him honestly. He isn’t much a talker. Oh ! My mam wants to see you again one day ! She was worried when I told her you left.” He could hear you humming as you listened to his update. “Aw, well I’d love to see her again…actually…if your free sometime, I’m sure your mission is important but I’d love to meet you up some time.” He smiles at this “Yeah ? Say where and when.” He chuckles and he holds his breath hearing you laugh. It was airy, he can’t believe how much his missed your energy “Alright, well I’d love to have you over from some tea at my place. Just let me know when you can come by.” He perked up at this. He never been to your place, in fact you seemed very secretive about showing it. He never asked why, so he always volunteered to take you to his place. “Id love that Hera.” He smirked saying your call sign, he can already imagine you grinning “Ah good old days, unfortunately not much of Hera anymore. I don’t think I ever can honestly…” he frowned at this, he wondered if that’s why you resigned from the task force. In fact thinking about it you seemed exhausted, your voice wasn’t as chirpy like you used to be. You seemed out of breath with a few sentences. Were you ill ? “Are…are you ill ?” he asks hesitantly. He huff softly from your side “No…not exactly. It’s complicated, but I promise when we meet I’ll explain. Not like I could hide it anyways.” He now was more curious…did you secretly get sent off on a mission and got seriously hurt ? Were you that ill, you had to resign ? “Well, actually, I’m free today if you are ?” he looks at his clock. It was 06:20, you still were just an early riser as he was. “That would be great. I’ll text you my address. See you soon Gaz.” He can imagine you smiling, as he smiles too “Yeah, see you soon Hera.”

Taglist : @the-reality-of-my-life , @kat-nee , @wwe1rdc0re , @saturnknows , @stalyxysh ,@avatarislife4ever,@ayesha-fish , @sae1kie ,@longing-for-the-past-times,@daisyfrubies,@sailorneotunemivhiru,@ra-im , @maflor123 ,@i-love-ptv

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thesandsofelsweyr · 2 years ago

Text

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 2/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,748 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 @tild3ath @iiirhiane-g

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Please consider reblogging if you enjoy the read ❤️ (Thanks for all the support you've given my lil story so far!)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You push yourself to your feet and hurry over to his kitchen, flipping on the recessed lighting overhead. The kitchen is as bare and spotless as the other rooms you’ve seen, its countertops clear of the usual clutter you’d expect. No rags nor paper towel roll. No knife block nor coffee maker nor toaster—the appliances are the ones that come standard with the unit. No stacks of unopened mail nor candles nor cookbooks nor a sink full of empty dishes. No signs of life except for the adorable houseplant and some liquid hand soap beside the sink (which is good—you need soap).

You pull open drawers and cabinets, feeling a twinge of guilt for invading his privacy like this but it can’t be helped. Even those are mostly empty, only containing the barest amount of necessities like cups, dishes, and flatware—run-of-the-mill kitchen items that were probably provided with the furnished unit. You do manage to find some clean rags and paper towels (and a coffee maker), but nothing like sandwich bags for the ice. On a whim, you check his freezer and bingo! No food or decapitated heads but plenty of ice packs along with an unopened bottle of vodka. You arch an eyebrow at the curious yet amusing stash. Perhaps coming home injured is a typical Friday night for him.

You turn on the sink faucet then tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the roll, wadding them up and wetting them before adding a few pumps of soap then working up a lather. You can’t get the sight of his bleeding face and swollen neck out of your head. It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that to him against his will. He’s an intimidating guy, to say the least. Over a head taller than you, powerfully built with broad shoulders and thick thighs (and a nice ass). Perhaps he got jumped on his walk home—an all too common occurrence on these crime-ridden streets—and his stubborn pride was too wounded to go to the ER. Or maybe it was a gang thing… some sort of hazing ritual? That could explain the bloody letter on his cheek, too, you suppose. But then you remember his shaking hands and fumbling fingers as he tried and failed to unlock his door, and how he jumped at the sound of your voice. He was scared, you realize, your heart swelling with sudden pity. He was more afraid of you than you were of him. Afraid, and probably hurting, too. That thought makes your heart swell even more. It also leaves you a bit shaken. What in God’s name could frighten him? You can only hope that whatever it is doesn’t plan to make a house call anytime soon.

With the items in hand—ice packs, wet and dry rags, soapy paper towel wads, paper towel roll—you return to his side. He still doesn’t appear to have stirred, which is troubling, you have to admit, but you put it out of your mind for now. You set the items down on the floor beside the corpse-like body before grabbing a throw pillow from his couch. (Yes, a throw pillow. There’s a throw blanket on the couch, too. It’s the strongest evidence yet supporting your furnished unit presumption, since he definitely doesn’t strike you as a throw pillow kind of guy.) You kneel down at his side, then, ever so gently, you slip an arm behind his neck and lift his head enough to pull back his hood and slide the pillow beneath him. Next you take off his cap, revealing a mop of sweat-damp black hair. You sweep the soft locks back from his forehead so that you can place a cold rag against that warm, sweat-slick skin.

That’s when you notice the scars. You’d never been close enough to him to see that his face is absolutely covered in them. Faint white lines that cut through his features: his dark brows, his full lips, his freckle-dusted cheeks, the bent bridge of his nose. The worst one (aside from the J on his cheek, that is) is a deep gash that slashes across his right cheek and his nose, all the way up to his forehead. Another knife wound? Is this guy a masochist with a knife fetish or is there some freak out there who gets off on slicing up this poor guy’s face? Those marks on his neck imply the latter—the more sinister of the two—and that sends a cold chill shuddering up your spine.

Almost magnetically your eyes are drawn back past the (cute) cleft in his chin to those sunken bands of red ringing his throat. A thin line of blood has surfaced along the outer edge of one of the bands, where whatever was used to strangle him had cut into his skin. As you wipe away the blood with one of the soapy paper towel wads you spot several scratches on his neck, and for a moment you wonder if the assailant also used his hands to choke him. But then you feel your own throat constrict as the horrible realization sets in: those are claw marks. Gouges from his own fingernails where he desperately struggled to pry the ligature away and free his windpipe so he could breathe. Defensive wounds where he fought for his life.

You set aside the wet wad, then, driven by some morbid curiosity, you find your fingers returning to his throat. Ever so delicately, as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion, you touch one of the raw indentations in his swollen flesh, tracing it with your fingertip, feeling how the abraded skin had folded inward around whatever had coiled around his neck and tried to choke the life out of him. His throat vibrates gently against your probing fingers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You lay one of the dry rags across his throat, hiding the hideous damage, then place the ice pack on top, as instructed by the health article you Googled. You do the same for the back of his neck as well.

Now you turn your attention back to his scarred, haggard face. After swiping away the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth you press the soapy paper towel to his cheek, which gradually turns from white to pink as it soaks up the blood seeping from the J carved into his flesh. Once you staunch the bleeding, you lift the towel to replace it with a fresh one, and you get an unimpeded view of what was hiding beneath the cut and the blood, beneath his hat and hood all of those times you passed him in the hallway, all of those times he ducked his head between hunched shoulders to avoid eye contact with you. You pull in a sharp breath. It’s not a J-shaped scar; it’s the letter J branded into his cheek. You can tell by how the skin is puckered around the too-precise curve of the raised letter, by its faint red outline, by how it seems to tug uncomfortably at his cheek.

Your mind rewinds to a few weeks back when you accidentally burned your neck with your curling iron. You’d shrieked like a banshee then thrown the damn thing across your bathroom. The blistered patch of seared skin had throbbed for the rest of the night, and was still sensitive to the touch for the following week. That was the result of hot ceramic glancing against your skin for maybe half a second, if that long. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it would’ve hurt to have held the infernal thing against your neck for long enough to melt a fucking letter into the flesh. And not just any flesh. His cheek; that tender skin right below the orbital bone, less than an inch from his eye. It probably felt like his eyeball was boiling in his eye socket from the immense heat. And the smell! His own flesh barbecuing like meat to be served at a cannibal cook-out…

You don’t want to think about it anymore. You can’t think about it anymore or else you’re gonna be sick. And luckily you don’t have to because a low moan slips from his lips and his lashes begin to flutter. A rush of relief floods through you at the small signs of life, and you absently begin to stroke his soft hair with your hand. Heavy eyelids strain to lift then glassy blue eyes are peeking out from between the slits. You smile down at him, your fingers caringly combing through his tousled hair, easing his way back into consciousness. You expect him to groggily ask where he is or what happened to him.

Instead his eyes snap open, and the romantic portrait you’ve painted inside your mind of this moment is ripped to shreds.

He bolts upright, sending rags and ice packs flying away from him, then that massive wall of muscular torso turns on you. Time seems to somehow speed up and slow down simultaneously as those large, dangerous hands of his are reaching for you, and in that terrible instant you know without a doubt that he means to strangle you. A tiny, panic-stricken sound—the choked cry of ensnared prey—comes from your mouth as you throw up your arms across your face and neck in an comically feeble attempt to defend yourself from certain death, and the thought that flashes through your mind—maybe the last thought you’ll ever have in this lifetime—is that you’ll never have the chance to open that bottle of merlot.

But his hands don’t wrap around your throat; they land on your shoulders, and then you’re sliding, falling backwards from the force of a violent shove, your vision flashing to black as your head bounces off the hardwood floor.

“Ow!” you squeal as a bright burst of pain rings through your skull, leaving you stunned for a split second until your fear takes over, clearing away the haze and stars. You push yourself up on your forearm, blood pounding through your ears as your eyes frantically search for your attacker, heart lurching as you find him.

The guy is scrambling backwards away from you on all fours like some frightened beast, slamming into a floor lamp in his haste to escape. The lamp reels drunkenly, throwing light madly around the room as it whirls, like a waving searchlight at a festival. Then he’s pressed into a corner, able to go no further, yet his hands and heels are gripping the floor for purchase, as if he’s trying to push himself into the walls. As the lamp settles, somehow still upright, its light illuminates the hulking figure backed into the corner behind it, and you notice for the first time that the front of his red hoodie is splattered with an even darker red.

You’re sitting up now, frozen like a deer in headlights, your fight or flight reflexes canceling each other out because you’ve realized that you’re the toothless predator, not the prey, and the guy you’re gaping at with his bloodless face and wild eyes is a cornered animal who’ll do anything to survive. Then, to your horror, that cornered animal seems to remember his claws and reaches for the gun that’s not there, and you thank the universe and every holy entity within it that you disarmed him.

His wide eyes narrow as they lock onto you, and the fear that had filled them only a heartbeat ago has vanished, replaced with a look so cold, so devoid of anything but shadows and darkness, that it turns the blood in your veins to ice.

“Who are you? What’re you doing in my apartment? What the fuck did you do with my gun?” Some of the wildness returns to his eyes as he shouts at you with a scarred voice, wheezing between each sentence. You shrink back, shocked that the guy can speak louder than a mumble, then your attention is caught by something more unnerving than his shouting, something that clutches at your insides. His eyes… The little hairs on the back of your neck stir again as you study those pale blue irises flecked with green, barely visible beneath his blown-out pupils yet still trained on you like a sniper’s laser sights. There’s something wrong with his eyes… But before you can figure it out he roars: “Answer me!” and you can’t help but jump at the hateful ferocity, his deadly strength palpable in his tone.

Your heart’s in your throat again, and your mind is racing out his door, terrified all 200-something pounds of him are about to pounce on you, so you’re surprised when you not only find your words, but shout them back at him, just as vicious.

“Take it easy! I'm your neighbor, remember? You passed out. I was trying to help you. I thought you were fucking dying!”

You see a flicker of recognition flash over his face before a coughing fit takes him. Then it hits you, like a punch to the gut as you watch him clutching at his blood-splattered chest again as he gasps for a breath. His eyes… they’re red where they should be white. All of the binged episodes of Forensic Files come flooding back to you and you even remember the term for it: petechial hemorrhaging. Burst blood vessels from strangulation. His strangulation.

The rush of pity that wells up in your chest at the awful realization calms your fear enough that you crawl a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re hurt,” you say gently, trying to keep your nerves from shaking your voice. “Your neck…”

You trail off as his eyes snap back to you, pupils still blown wide. You try to hold onto his skittish gaze, praying he won’t notice his gun behind you and lunge, but his eyes fall away to the floor. He raises his free hand to his neck, as slowly as if his wrists were chained to the floor, and touches one of the red furrows there. Then his trembling fingers move to his brand, where fresh beads of blood have surfaced. You hear him mutter something so low and tremulous it’s barely audible, but you think it sounded like… “Plan J”?

“I cleaned it with soap and water,” you reply as he stares blankly at his bloody fingertips. “But it’s deep. You may need stitches. I can bring you some Band-Aids,” you pause, feeling really fucking stupid for suggesting Band-Aids for the guy who’s been strangled and cut and branded. You blurt out the rest: “If you need them… for the time being.”

His eyes have glazed over, as if he’s gone somewhere far away. Somewhere terrible, because his rasping breath quickens and his whole body starts to shake, as though he’s reliving something. His attack? His branding? All of the times that monster of a person cut his face? You desperately want to reach for his hand, to pull him back from whatever hell he’s been sucked into, but you’re too scared to wake that cornered wild animal again.

Finally he snaps out of it, and his eyes close as his hand drops limply to the floor. You watch helplessly as the tension drains from his body and he sags forward, like he’s been crushed by whatever was waiting for him in that flashback.

“You should go,” he mumbles to the floor, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself agree. As you stand you remind yourself that you can finally have that glass of wine, but the notion isn’t as appealing as it was earlier in the night.

You gather up your phone and bag. You start to ask if you can get him anything before you go but you know his answer so you turn to leave.

“Thank you.” His small voice cracks like a little boy’s when he speaks, and you know he’s started to cry.

“Yeah, sure,” you say softly as you turn the knob and push open his door. You glance over your shoulder at him one last time. The sight of the broken boy—the boy whose name you still don’t know—huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, weeping into his hands, wrings your heart out like a wet rag, and you feel your own throat tighten up with tears. You hang your head as you shut the door softly behind you.

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