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sister-lucifer · 4 months

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A Bullet in the Chamber

Proxies (Hoodie, Masky, Toby) x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Horror/Dark Angst

Summary: They want you to prove your love, to prove that you truly believe you’re meant to be together…with the help of Tim’s revolver, of course.

Content/Warnings: God, where do I start…obviously massive use of a gun, they play russian roulette, descriptions of gore, the proxies are super manipulative and emotionally abusive to reader, just a super obsessive not healthy relationship, this is NOT a feel good fic, it’s implied reader is being held captive

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“We just wanna…play a little game with you, that’s all,” Tim drawls, his voice deep and lazy as he looks at you from behind his mask.

You’re nervous suddenly. Unbearably nervous. A cold chill runs throughout your body and makes your stomach convulse in an agonizing manner, and you don’t know if you’re going to vomit or pass out first. You don’t know why. He’s only just started speaking. Maybe it’s the way he drew out the last part of that sentence, or the way he immediately tried to soothe you before you’ve even fully understood what’s going on, or just that look in his eyes that says ‘I want to fucking gut you.’

There’s a reason you learned to keep your guard up around these three.

Suddenly the little circle you’re all sitting in on the floor feels much, much tighter than is comfortable, and it doesn’t help that Toby slides in closer, bumping your shoulder with his and flashing you a knowing smirk. What exactly he knows, though, is a horrific enigma to you.

Brian is on your other side, and although he doesn’t move, for a split second he glances at you out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to Tim. He’s managing to hold a straight face, but you can see the corners of his mouth just barely twitching as he internally fights to keep the emotion bubbling beneath the surface at bay.

There’s silence for a few moments, you’re not sure how long, but you don’t realize they’re waiting for you to speak until Toby nudges you.

“I, uh…what, um— what kind of game…?” You stammer, immediately regretting your question despite the curiosity that’s gnawing at you like a starving animal. You shudder when Toby giggles, clearly trying to stifle the sound as he bumps your shoulder again.

Tim thinks over his answer for a moment, scratching at his stubble in a manner that is far too casual. You think he’s going to speak, you’re expecting it, but he doesn’t say anything at first beyond a tired sounding sigh. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as it reaches behind him, and when it emerges once more it’s holding onto the grip of Tim’s revolver.

“There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

The world is spinning suddenly as you watch him place the weapon on the ground, and the sound of it sliding across the floor to you makes you sick. You bite back a gag as it slows to a stop in front of you. Your mouth hangs open uselessly as you struggle for words, desperate to pull out some sort of protest to what you know he wants but no sound comes.

They watch you grapple with yourself for a few moments before Brian places a hand on your knee. It’s supposed to be a comforting gesture, and normally it would be, but now it feels like a threat.

“Hey, don’t freak out so soon,” He says, lips curled into a subtle smirk, “We did this all the time when we were younger, it’s practically a rite of passage.”

Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell your fears. You’re shaking now, unable to wrap your mind around how they could be acting so nonchalant about putting your lives on the line like this.

“Listen,” Tim huffs, “I’m gonna be straight with ya, kid. We know how you’ve been feeling recently.”

That hardly narrows it down. You’ve been feeling a lot of things recently, none of it good and all of it confusing. That’s just the sort of conflict born from this kind of captivity. You shrug, unsure what to say.

“We know you w-wanna leave,” Toby clarifies, “I saw you staring out t-the window the other day…you just s-sat there for hours.”

That…made you feel a bit guilty. You shouldn’t, but you do. You could’ve at least made it less obvious.

“We trust you, hon,” Brian adds with a nod, “But we also think we could all use a little…what did you call it?”

He turns to Tim, who yawns before answering.

“…Group bonding.”

You shudder at the phrase. Disgusting.

“I…I don’t think this is the best way to…t-to do that,” You murmur, but your words hold no weight when you can’t even look them in the eyes. You’d never take the risk of making any sort of real fuss anyways.

Tim shrugs, seeming to consider your words.

“How would you do it, then?”

You…don’t have an answer for that. Why don’t you have an answer for that?

“I-I don’t know, I mean…can’t we just have awkward group sex like other, uh…groups, or whatever?” You ask, hesitating to call your dynamic any sort of relationship.

You make sure to tack on a nervous laugh at the end to make it seem lighthearted, but no one is amused. Toby giggles, but he’s laughing at you, and it’s painfully obvious.

“Don’t stress about it,” Tim says, “Just think of it as a…a test, you know?”

He sighs when you shake your head no.

“Ya know, like…a way of proving yourself. I mean, you trust us, right?”

You hesitate to answer that, but nod quickly when Tim narrows his eyes at you.

“Good. Well, think of it this way: if we all survive this, it’s a sign that we’re…meant to be together.”

“There has to be a better way—“ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Brian instantly takes to calming you.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His other hand comes up to your face, holding your head against his shoulder.

“Calm down, baby,” He says softly, “Don’t jump ship so fast. I told you, we’ve all done this before. We’ll even go first to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, alright?”

He’s not really giving you a choice.

You nod.

Maybe you’ll be able to just get this over with. If you sit here for much longer, you’re gonna be sick.

Toby reaches out to grab the gun first. That doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s never been one for forethought, or common sense in general. One day his hubris will get him killed, you think, but for once you’re hoping it won’t be today.

Not today.

Not here.

Not right in front of you.

Brian doesn’t let you go, continuing to hold you against him as Toby makes a show of spinning the chamber, letting it run until it stops on its own. He giggles with deranged amusement as he presses the end of the barrel to the bottom of his chin, looking back at Tim with a crooked grin.

There’s silent for a few moments, and you can’t look away from him until you follow his gaze to Tim, who is staring back with furrowed brows.

He’s still for a beat, and then he nods.

A signal.

Go.

You have a split second to process Toby preparing to pull the trigger before you bury your face in Brian’s hoodie and he, in turn, covers your face with his hand and squeezes you tight. It’s hardly comforting, but it’s better than nothing.

The soft click of the trigger seems to echo endlessly in the silence that follows.

Silence.

You quickly look back up and are immediately met with Toby’s hazel eyes looking back at you, their corners crinkled with the wide smile that’s spread across his pale face.

“Lookie there,” He drawls with a laugh, “This h-handsome face is still in tact.”

“Hardly the better outcome,” Tim mutters with a roll of his eyes.

This prompts Toby to slide the gun to him next, crossing his arms in feigned hurt.

“You go n-next then, wise guy. If you blow y-your brains out, at least we’ll know you h-had one.”

“Shut up,” Tim hisses back as he, too, brings his hand up to spin the chamber of the revolver. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t think they’d be so eager.

You’re gripping onto Brian’s hoodie so tightly your knuckles burn as you watch Tim press the barrel of the gun to his jaw, angling it upwards toward the dome of his skull.

He’s not nearly as giddy as Toby. He’s straight faced and silent, which isn’t odd, but something in his eyes is darker than you ever remember it being. You can only see his eyes with his mask on, yet you know his expression exactly. He’s staring right at you, and you’re imagining his brains dashed against the wall behind him, his face and any identifying features that once made him human reduced to a splatter of viscera that barely resembles the pieces of a person.

And when it’s all over, you think, you’ll surely be the one left to clean the mess of what used to be Tim. You’ll be left to scrub the red stains from the floorboards while the others continue on as if nothing has happened, and suddenly you can’t breathe.

The world stills as once more the trigger is pulled with a click.

Then relief hits you like a shockwave when that click is followed by silence.

Silence.

Your lungs fill faster than you were ready for, and you cough and sputter as your chest heaves with newfound breath. Brian rubs your shoulder gently, his other hand reaching out to grab the revolver as Tim slides it to him. The gun is exchanged without a word, only piercing eye contact as Brian lifts the weapon and spins the chamber, just as his companions had done before him.

It seems so natural for all of them. In the half a second it takes for Brian to lift the gun you wonder how many times they’ve done this, if you’re the first person to witness this ritual, and if not, what happened to those who came before you.

You don’t find any hope of getting answers, though, as you watch Brian press the barrel to the side of his head. He gives you a squeeze, and you can’t tell if he’s assuring you or saying goodbye just in case.

You still haven’t released his hoodie despite the throbbing pain in your fingers. You’re barely a thread away from tearing out a patch, but you can’t let go. You don’t look at him this time, unable to pull your head away from where it rests on his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re trying to crush him, but he only lets out a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair in response as if he’s amused by your terror. You’re a scared kid to him, a foolish little child running from an imaginary monster despite the very real threat.

You can hear his hoodie shifting as he adjusts the position of the gun. You can hear the slight scratching against his hair as the barrel moves against his head. You can hear him suck in a quick breath as he readies himself to pull the trigger.

You hear the click.

And then silence.

Silence.

You’ve never been so grateful for silence.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Toby claps and laughs loudly, practically howling with wildly misplaced celebration. He shakes you in his excitement, unable to get any intelligible words out through his giggling.

“Shhh,” Brian says with a finger to his lips, “We’re not done yet.”

He’s right. Goddamnit, he’s right. Not everyone has played yet. You were hoping that maybe just this once the higher being that trapped you in this hell would have this minuscule mercy on you, but you were met with a resounding no.

Brian places the gun on the floor in front of you. You can’t hear the sound of the metal gently knocking against the wood floor, but it makes you feel ice cold. Your world is rapidly going dark as you struggle to make yourself breathe.

You can feel the others’ eyes on you, three pairs of eyes staring right at you and boring a hole through your skull that’ll surely be identical to the one the bullet will leave. Maybe they’re imagining it, too.

It seems you’re not moving fast enough for them.

Toby reaches out and grabs your wrist a bit too roughly, forcefully placing your hand on the gun. You wince like you expect it to burn, but you’re left with only the cruel sensation of metal on your palm.

You weakly curl your fingers around the grip of the gun. It feels impossibly heavy as you lift it, trembling like a leaf in the wind. You force your other hand up, placing two fingers on the chamber of the revolver as you prepare to spin it.

You press the pads of your fingers against the metal, pushing down in an attempt to spin, but the gun slips from your shaking hands and clatters to the floor. You yelp in surprise and clamp your hands over your mouth, tears suddenly forming in your eyes but refusing to flow over.

Brian sighs. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just disappointed. He picks up the gun, and you think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to let you out, grant you some small reprieve and tell you you don’t have to do this.

Instead he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close, and his other hand presses the barrel of the gun right to your head.

“I’ll do it for you,” He says, as if it’s nothing serious. Like he’s just grabbing a box off a high shelf to be nice.

You feel like he’s strangling you. He might as well be. It would be a more humane death.

He’s going to kill you, you think, you’re going to die in this godforsaken house with these bastards, you’re going to die in isolation with no one to honor your body.

They’ve sentenced you to death.

You think back to that question of how many have come before you. Is this what they thought about, too? Is this the first, third or twentieth time someone like you has been here? How many unfortunate circumstances have stained the floorboards red over the years this cabin has stood?

It doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

You’re going to be the next.

That’s all there is for you to be now.

A stain of red on the old wood floors will be your only legacy.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you look up at Brian. His expression doesn’t move an inch. There’s no trace of the humor he always seems to have, not even a hint of feigned compassion or sympathy for your position. He’s not letting you out of this. None of them are.

You reach down and grab Brian’s hand where it rests in your hip, your nails digging into his knuckles. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even move beyond adjusting his finger to pull the trigger.

Each second seems to go on for an eternity, yet at the same time everything is moving far too fast. You can’t process what’s happening but you just want it over with, that’s your only choice.

He’s lifting his finger, preparing to bring it down on the trigger.

He’s pressing the barrel of the gun into your skin just a bit harder as he readies himself for whatever happens next.

This is it.

This is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is…

The trigger clicks.

Then there’s silence.

…it.

Silence.

And then Toby erupts with animalistic, ecstatic laughter. It rings in your ears and echoes around your skull in an almost painful manner. You can’t stand the sound.

You’re alive.

The game is over.

All at once relief floods your body in such an overwhelming manner your vision goes dark. You can’t speak a word before you’ve gone limp in Brian’s arms, and he barely has time to put the revolver down and catch you. He holds you in his arms and makes a half hearted attempt to wake you, but when you don’t respond he looks up at Tim with a smirk.

“Out like a light.”

Tim can’t help but chuckle, and for a moment it’s even a full on laugh. This only encourages Toby, who’s flopped over onto his back as his body writhes with mirth.

Brian groans as he stands, pulling your body up with him. He throws you over his shoulder and nods to the others.

“I’m taking this one up stairs, gonna put ‘em to bed. I’m sure they’ll be whiny when they wake up, and you two better deal with it.”

Tim and Toby nod and wave him away. Toby’s finally stopped laughing enough to pull himself off the floor as Tim picks up the revolver. He shoves it into Toby’s chest, nearly pushing him over.

“Go put it up,” Tim orders.

“Or what?” Toby teases as he takes the gun, “You g-gonna get mad ‘cause I won’t clean up y-your toys?”

“Just do it,” Tim demands with a growl, clearly not amused. Toby rolls his eyes and huffs like a defiant child, but nods.

Tim starts to walk away, headed upstairs to his own room, but he pauses on the first step and turns to Toby.

“Oh, and don’t forget to load it,” He adds, “If it’s empty the next time I need it, I’m gonna kill you.”

523 notes · View notes

wwilsonbarness · 10 months

Text

hello? Mr. Pickle?

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky struggles with modern technology, especially autocorrect.

warnings: none, pure fluff

word count: 495

a/n: When I was writing i can’t do this anymore my autocorrect changed doll to dill and so this was born - also my first drabble? Huge thanks to @hopelessromantic423 for the title suggestion <33

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

From across the room you could hear your phone vibrating so you made a mental note to check it once you finish this chapter of your book. It buzzed again and you debated going over to it but you only had two pages left. Then it buzzed 3 more times, straight after each other. This was when you decided it must be important so you got up and started walking over. It buzzed another two times as you walked over and you started to panic, it could’ve been an emergency. When you saw the messages on your screen you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was Bucky who was messaging you.

Buck

I’m just leaving. What do you want for dinner dill? dill** dill** This stupid fucking phone. DILL** DILL DILL** Fuck sake I’m phoning you

You only just finish reading the last message when your phone begins to ring and you try to compose your laughter enough to answer.

“Hey Buck, or should I say Mr Pickle?”

“Ha Ha.” He replies sarcastically, “I take it you seen my texts. Stupid phone never works.”

“It’s just not used to your 40’s lingo babe.” You teased, you were always kidding with him about how much of an old man he was. Not in the way of his literal age but the way he lived, he hated using new technology, he hated social media, and you don’t even want to think back on the time you tried to make him watch a reality show. He tried liking all the modern parts of the world but he missed the old days where things were a lot simpler. He was just glad he had you to help him through it.

“Yeah well it’s lucky I didn’t throw it out the car.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of “piece of crap” and it makes you giggle. “It’s not funny doll.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

“I hate you.” He jokes.

“No you don’t.” You manage to reply through your laughter.

“You’re right I don’t. So what do you want for dinner?”

You take a second to think, “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.”

“I could do a cheeseburger, I’m near that burger place anyways.”

“Could you get some fries too? Oh! And a milkshake? The one with the oreo pieces? Please.” He couldn’t see but your pouty lip had come out.

“Anything you want doll.”

“Thanks babe, how long do you think you’ll be?”

“Should be like 20 minutes, do you wanna watch something while we eat?”

“You read my mind! I’ll set it up in time for you coming home.”

“Okay, won’t be long. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bucky’s about to hang up before you quickly start speaking again. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you get me extra pickles on my burger?”

You hear him scoff a little then laugh, “I’m hanging up now.”

“Byeee.” You trail off until the call ends. You were never gonna let him live this one down.

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so-long-soldier-writes · 8 months

Text

Our Little Secret

kai parker x reader

summary: you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!kai) (step-brother!kai)

tags: teasing, possessiveness, praise kink, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, blowjobs, vaginal sex

word count: 4.2k

“You look cute,” a male voice comes up behind you, “where are you going?”

You turn abruptly to see Kai, watching you from the other side of the kitchen. His gaze travels up and down your body, but he’s clearly staring at your ass. It almost makes you drop the soapy dish you’re holding.

“Um, thank you.”

“Where are you going?” He repeats, eyes darkening.

“Nowhere.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m serious! I’m not going anywhere, I just felt like looking cute. Trust me, Kai. Do you ever see me leave this house?”

His jaw relaxes, knowing you’re telling the truth. “So you just felt like romping around in a short little skirt? Dad won’t be happy if he sees you in it.”

“Well Dad’s not here right now,” you point out. This is also true. Joshua was out for the weekend on coven duties. He won’t be back until late Monday.

“Mom won’t like it, either.”

“She’s never minded me wearing what I want. As long as it’s appropriate to wear around the kids.”

“She scolded Jo just last week for wearing jeans that were too tight.”

“Well this is a skirt.”

“I can see the bottom of your ass, Y/N.”

“Why are you looking at my ass, Kai?”

“Because you have it on display for me to see.”

“I do not! I’m just doing dishes and minding my own business!”

“You would get so busted for that skirt if Mom saw. Joey would be staring, too. You know he has a crush on you.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking about my skirt and just… go away.”

“I came to get a snack.”

“Then get it and go.”

Kai crosses the kitchen towards the fridge, and you finally think he’s dropped it. With his back turned, you bend down to put the plate in the dishwasher, then continue soaping up another. Little do you know that Kai’s watching you through the metal reflection of the fridge door. He licks his lips when your ass is on full display.

“Y’know this is my house,” he suddenly challenges.

You whip around to face him, annoyed. “So?!”

“You can’t boss me around in my own house.”

“Do you pay the bills? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I was here first. And I’m older than you.”

“Do you want an award?”

He eyes your figure again. “Are you offering?”

“Ugh! Stop it!”

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like the attention. Why else would you wear that pretty little piece in an empty house?”

“I didn’t feel like putting on pants.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

You groan and turn back around, desperate to avoid his gaze any longer.

Kai’s not completely wrong, but you’re not exactly lying, either. Yes, it’s true that you didn’t want to put on pants. Yes… it’s also true that you wanted to gain attention from your step-brother. There, you finally said it. You do like his attention. It’s his fault, though. He’s always flirting with you, regardless if the rest of the family is home or not.

His eyes are always on you, at your back or front, whichever he can get. Countless times you’ve turned suddenly and caught him staring. A handful of those times, his own mother has tried to get his attention but struggled to pull it away from your breasts. His mother, of course, is none the wiser and assumes he’s daydreaming, but you know he’s not. He’ll smirk at you after, if he’s caught, and won’t let her believe anything scandalous was happening instead.

Kai’s also gotten physical with you more times than you can remember. He’ll slide past you in a crowded kitchen, hands in the air as he’s banned from touching anyone, but his groin will brush your ass as he slinks across the room. Twice, you’ve felt the outline of his cock in his jeans when he did it. Both times, your face got so hot you needed to step away from the situation.

He also has a habit of bumping into you. If you’re doing dishes or putting something away, he’ll suddenly appear, suddenly needing to do the same thing. Your shoulders or hips meet from his unexpected presence, and then he apologizes with a voice that does things to you. Either his morning voice, slightly rough, or his soft, midday voice, or the one heard at night, when he’s all talked out and dehydrated. Sometimes he’s close enough you can smell coffee on his breath, or mint, or even gin. Sometimes he lets his hand wander to the small of your back, or further down by your waist. When his family enters the room, he rips himself away from you. The bubbling warmth between you quickly goes cold and leaves you hungry.

“Y/N… Y/N… hello?!”

You blink twice, realizing Kai’s right next to you. A tupperware is in one hand, while the other waves in front of your face. “What?!”

“Jeez! Just asking if you wanted some of this.”

“What is it?”

“Leftover cake from Sarah’s birthday party. It’s chocolate,” he says the last part in a sing-songy voice.

“I know, I was there.”

“Do you want any?”

“No.”

“Awh, come on, Y/N… you know you do.”

“Fine. I’ll have a bite if you’re heating it up.”

His face breaks out into a grin and he mutters a celebratory, “yes!” to himself, then spins around to the microwave.

“Put it all on a plate and gimme the dish. What’s one more dish to wash?”

“Okay. And thanks for doing that.”

“Mhm.”

He leaves you alone while it warms. You turn slightly, wondering why he’s quiet, but see him on the other counter pouring two glasses of milk. You’re quick to face the sink again, not wanting him to see you looking at him.

“So why cake?” You question as the two-minute timer beeps. “Don’t you usually eat pretty healthy?”

Kai shrugs. “Usually. But one dessert was denied, so I was craving something to fill its place.”

“What the fuck was- oh.”

“I mean, I’ll have two if you change your mind.”

You look down, avoiding his stupid smirk.

“Kidding. Have a bite.”

Two minutes is the max time you get to eat in silence. After that, Kai swallows a big bite then looks back at you.

“In all seriousness, you do look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, unsure how to take the compliment.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?”

“I’m just asking in case I have to kick someone’s ass! For like, brotherly reasons.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.” He’s then quick to follow with, “I mean, like, cause Dad would kick his ass, too. That, or turn him straight to dust. Poof! Did you know that Josette’s boyfriend had to go through three weeks of questioning just to take her on one date?”

“Yes, Kai, I was there. I’ve been living here for three years.”

“Right.”

“Did you see the time my brother got his ass beat for bugging me when I tried to eat?” You counter, challenging him.

“Joey?”

“No, dumbass, you.”

“Oh. Wait-” he puts his fork down as he realizes. “Sorry.”

You meant it as a joke, but his frown tells you he didn’t catch that.

“Hey, I’m gonna go back upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Wait, Kai!” He doesn’t stop. “Kai!” You try again, reaching out to grab his arm.

He freezes, not used to such direct contact.

“I was joking, Kai,” you look in his eyes to say. “I promise. I really do like your company.”

“No you don’t, I bother you as much as I bother Jo.”

Your grip tightens. “No, you don’t. Kai, I’m serious. And I’m sorry. It went too far.”

Finally, he turns to you. “Honest?”

“Honest.”

“Pinky swear?”

You snort, then realize he’s serious. “Pinky swear.”

He grins at this, then slowly returns to the side opposite you, where he had been only seconds ago.

“As a matter of fact,” you continue, “you don’t bug me at all.”

He chuckles and looks at the floor. “I’m sure I bug you a little.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“What about earlier? That wasn’t annoying?”

Now or never to confess. You pick the former.

“Oh, no. I certainly do enjoy your attention. Even when it's on my ass.”

“Oh, do you now?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you bring your chocolatey fork up to your lips, licking the whole length, and sticking your tongue out to him. You keep eye contact with him, watching his cheeks flush bright red.

“Y/N…”

“What? We’re all alone… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t partially wear this little skirt for you.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“Awh, what happened to the bold Kai I know that will rub his morning wood against my back in the middle of a crowded kitchen? Is he shy?” You tease.

“Y/N, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…”

“Oh, I think I do. Come on… I bet an afternoon hard is just as satisfying. Oh, but maybe we should wait a couple hours, for when I can literally taste the gin off your breath. Aw, nah, because then the window of opportunity will close. Jo will be home, and all those kids, and you’ll have to see your little brother blush at me without the pride of having owned me earlier in the day.”

“Y/N,” his voice is raspy. His hand ghosts over his pants, and when you follow the movement with your eyes, you see he’s rock hard.

“Come on, Kai… You want to be a good stepbrother and beat up my nonexistent boyfriend? Well be a better one and fuck me right now.”

He only hesitates for a second more before rushing forward, pressing your back up against the sink, and kissing you roughly. He grips the countertop with one hand, your waist with the other. The plate of chocolate crumbs clatters into the sink, piercing your ears, but neither of you care. Your hands find his cheeks to get a grip. You hold them gently, but they’re burning in your hands. He’s a good kisser, despite having no experience. Before you know it, you’re both out of breath.

“Kai,” you try to say his name, but it comes out in more of a moan. The two of you are separated, panting, and staring at the other.

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

He smiles, then starts to trail kisses down your neck. Your hands find his hair and pull at the roots.

“Jump up,” he mutters. You do, and he catches your hips. He carries you to the other side of the counter, then sits you up on it. With gentle movements, he leans your back against the cabinet door. Had he sat you up by the sink, you would’ve had no support for your back. You give him a sloppy kiss as a thank you.

Kai smiles at you, but then instead of going back to your neck, he crouches just a little on his knees. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you let out an involuntary whine. Your hands bunch up your skirt and he smirks.

“Smart girl.” He wastes no time pulling down your thong, then stuffing it in his back pocket. The cold air only hits your core for a second before his fingers find your clit, rubbing gently.

“Ohh, Kai,” you whine.

“That’s it, princess. Keep whining for me.”

You let out another, this time, between sealed lips.

Kai puts a finger in you without warning. “Louder, baby.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can. No one else is here.” He puts in another.

You can feel the soft pads of his fingers on your walls. “More,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he praises.

You squeeze your eyes shut as wetness gushes from your body. You’ve always had a praise kink, and he’s about to find out.

“You like that?”

You nod quickly.

“Well keep it up. Keep making those sweet little sounds for me.”

You nod again, eyes still closed. With your eyes shut, though, you have no warning when his nose is suddenly grazing your clit. As soon as it touches, though, you let out a loud moan, almost pornographic.

“Good girl,” he says again, hot breath up against your core. Then, it’s his tongue making contact with your clit. He teases the nub with the tip, then slides it between your folds.

Your hands dig in his hair and moans fly out of your mouth. “Kai!”

He doesn’t answer this time. All his focus is on you. Two fingers still explore inside, while his tongue laps up your wetness. Obscene slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your own cries. Kai can’t even catch all of it with his tongue - some drips to the title floor with a loud splat, and you can feel the curvature of his lips against your skin.

The boy is an expert, despite probably being a virgin. He knows just how to flick his tongue; just how to curl his fingers.

“Kai, I’m coming,” you cry out, gripping the countertops. Your hands are sweaty and you almost slip. In an instant, his hands catch you, even the one that had been inside your heat. “No, don’t stop what you’re doing,” you mutter, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Sorry, princess,” he replies, putting them back. He then finds the pace he had before, and works to bring you back to the edge.

Moments later, your orgasm is the most powerful you’ve ever had. No other man, nor your own fingers have ever done justice to what he could do with his tongue. He sucks and finger-fucks you throughout your orgasm, paying no mind to the way you squeeze your legs around his head, nor the way you begin to ride his face as you come. Kai doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking, and your heavy moans become little whimpers. Only then, does he stand back up and smile at you.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, Kai.”

“Too much?”

“No. Never.”

“Too much for round two?”

“What?” You mutter, out of breath.

“We can stop if you’re tired.”

You fight to catch your breath, and in that time, happen to glance down. Your eyes go wide as you notice he’s pulled out his cock. Stiff as a board, red, and oozing with pre-cum, it rests in his hand.

“No, no stopping. Just… give me a minute.”

“We don’t have to, princess.”

“No, I want it. I want you.”

You then make an attempt to jump down from the countertop, but your arms are still shaky. He catches you in an instant, an eyebrow raised.

“Where are you going, little peach?”

A tired whimper escapes the back of your throat as you open your mouth to speak. Despite the grip he still has on both your arms, you manage to sink down to your knees. Halfway down, Kai realizes what’s happening and lets go.

“Aw, does my little bunny want to suck her stepbrother’s cock?” Kai takes himself in his hands and levels with your face. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”

You blush, and fight the urge to turn your face away.

“Eyes on me,” he says, seemingly knowing your thoughts.

You obey him, eyes bouncing between his face and his length. Your heart speeds up at the prospect of taking it. Of feeling it heavy in your mouth; feeling it hit the back of your throat.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead, princess.”

Your hands join his. Your eyes roll back in your head at how good it feels. When you look up to him, he nods, and you dart your tongue out to taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. It’s thick, and salty, and if that’s just your first taste, you know you need to start working for more. You lick the head, swirling your tongue in circles. Your lips suck the first few inches.

“No more teasing.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out in a moan.

You then put a hand on his thigh for a better grip. The jeans underneath your skin are uncomfortable.

“Off,” you mutter, hands flying to his belt.

“Hm? Oh.”

But you’re faster than Kai. Before he can give you any help, you’re unbuckling the metal and peeling his pants down his legs. You’re sure to be careful at his cock, though, pulling it back through the zipper hole, then letting it free.

Kai steps out from the pool of his pants. “Better for you now?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, lips pressed on his length. The action sends vibrations all over and he can’t help but moan again.

Your hand on his thigh squeezes his skin enough that it’ll bruise under your fingernails. Kai only has a second to concentrate on this, though, because in the next second, you’re licking a stripe from his balls to his head. Your tongue is dense against a prominent vein, earning another sound from him. Kai’s hands dig into your hair. He fights the urge to buck his hips into your mouth.

“Y/N,” he warns. If you don’t stop teasing now, he’ll do just that.

Luckily, you catch onto his need. Your lips curl around his head, tongue flat, and you begin to move up and down on his length. You start slow, but as he gets wetter, your lips glide better. The hand holding him no longer has a use, the first time you take him all the way. It slips further back to tug on his balls, while his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly.

Kai keeps his hands on you, buried in your hair, scratching your scalp. Profanities tumble from his lips; words that if his dad were to hear, he’d be beat for days. You smirk against his cock, knowing he can feel your lips curving.

“You’re a naughty little thing, peach. You like that?”

You respond by not losing pace, not slowing down for a second.

“Mhm,” he confirms, “what a good little slut you are. Taking her brother’s cock so well. Tell me, princess, is this something you think about at night? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of this happening?”

Again, you don’t answer.

“One? Two? Three? More?”

Your hand on his balls travels up to squeeze his ass. The skin is soft between your fingers, and you quickly put your other hand on his other cheek.

“I’ll take that as more than three times,” he chuckles.

You pinch his cheek unexpectedly, making him jolt. His reaction makes you giggle. When you look up to see his reaction, there’s a smile on his face, too.

“You look beautiful on your knees for me,” he praises. But then his hands find your face and he slowly eases you off his cock. “So, so beautiful. But I’m getting close and I need to be inside you.”

You nod, wanting the same.

Kai then grabs you from under your armpits, helping you to your feet. When you’re stable, he hoists you back onto the countertop. Not a moment later, he’s kissing your lips, sore, and red from sucking. Then, at the same time that he hitches your skirt back up your thighs, he presses kisses all around your face. You giggle, his lips tingling your skin, and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Are you ready?” You shake your head ‘yes’. “Need a minute?” You shake it ‘no’. “Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Okay.”

Kai holds your back steady. His cock is in his other, glistening with your spit; teased, and in need of release. He pushes into you slowly, letting you adjust. He keeps an eye on your face, watching for signs; hoping for pleasure, prepared for pain. Your eyes flutter as he passes your folds. Your mouth hangs open, spit dribbles from your bottom lip. The pair of you moan at once, both relishing in the feeling of his cock inside you. He smiles at the simultaneous sound of pleasure.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please, princess.”

“Yes, Kai,” you manage.

“There you go. Good girl.”

“Go faster.”

“Already? Alright. Gotta give my good little slut what she wants.”

You duck your head in embarrassment. The way he switches between praise and degradation does something to you that you can’t explain. Your core is so sopping wet that he slides in and out painlessly. He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into you hurriedly.

“Ah, ah, eyes on me. I want to look into your pretty little eyes while I ruin you.”

You whine at his words and tighten your arms around his neck.

“Perfect. Keep making those sounds, Y/N. You know the drill by now.”

Kai finds a pace that suits you both. Sweat drips from his forehead and his mouth hangs open, out of breath, but he isn’t slowing down. You’re grateful that he’s holding your back, otherwise you would’ve fallen by now.

“Kai!” You cry, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him even closer. He groans, and you decide to feed into that dirty talk he seems to like. “You fuck me so well. You’re a perfect fit for my tight cunt - oh!”

As expected, he loves it. “You bet I am, princess. Have you ever had anyone else fuck you this well?”

“No! You know just what I need.”

“Not even that boy you went to prom with last year? I heard you telling Jo about your little after-party with him.”

“I just imagined he was you, Kai,” you admit. “And any hookup since, I just pretend it’s you fucking me into oblivion.”

Fire burns in his eyes. A possessiveness that tells you all you need to know - he owns you now. You’re his girl. There will be no more pretending, because he’ll be the only one fucking you.

Kai continues to pound into you, but he’s getting sloppier by the second. He’s close, and you are, too.

“I’m gonna come, Kai,” you pant, running a hand through his hair. It’s wet with his own sweat, and when you push it up, some of the strands stay.

“Do it. Come for me. I’m close behind you.”

Permission granted, you orgasm a second time. Your body shakes and moans tumble from your lips. His name is mixed in with them; you chant it over and over like a prayer.

“I don’t want to come in you, baby,” he manages to say. “Where should I-?”

You lift your shirt up over your head before he can finish his sentence. Kai’s eyes immediately go to your breasts, confined within your bra, but pushed up from the underwire. In the same moment he pulls out, you unclasp the hook on your back. Your tits bounce out from their cage just to be pelted with cum a moment later. You moan again, pleasured by the warmth of his seed on your body.

Kai’s hands fall to the countertop as he tries to keep himself upright. The sounds falling from his lips are obscene, and beautiful, and you love every one of them. His eyes roll before looking into yours. Both of you take a minute to recover.

“Your tits,” he finally says, still catching his breath, “are beautiful. Should’ve taken that bra off a long time ago.”

“There’s always a next time,” you suggest, hoping to see that glint in his eye.

The words take a moment to register in his brain. When he looks back up at you, though, you see it. The possessiveness; the mischievousness. You’ll never belong to another man again.

“Definitely a next time,” he repeats.

Satisfied with the answer, you feel a small tension in your jaw relax. You look down at your breasts, sticky with drying cum, and swipe a bit of the load on your finger. Kai watches you suck it off, then go back for more. Once your chest is clear, you smack your lips.

“You’re crazy, Y/N,” he leans forward and nips one of your tits. You giggle, then cover your front with your hands. Kai quickly grabs your hands, then sucks on the other tit. “That’s why I like you. Part of it, at least.” He drops your hands and looks you in the eye, completely serious.

“I like you, too, Kai.”

He helps you off the counter in his next stride. You’re smoothing out your skirt, and he pulls up his pants, when he suddenly asks, “was what you said true?”

“When?”

“About the prom. And the hookups. Do you really imagine me?”

“It’s the only way I can get off.”

His face breaks out in a stupidly happy grin. “Does Jo know?”

You snort. “I wish. But of course not. It’s my little secret.”

“Well now this is our little secret,” he points a finger between the two of you.

“That it is. And I just happen to be amazing at keeping secrets.” You throw him a wink, and then the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon talking, with the occasional break for a make-out session.

#kai parker x reader #malachai parker x reader #kai parker #tvd fanfiction #kai parker smut #80s!kai #step-brother!kai

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glassartpeasants · 3 months

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I was doing a writing warm-up and made this piece. I kinda like it and might make a fic series about it if anyone is interested. Also, I call Kid 'Eustass' in this because it felt right for some reason?

Eustass Kid/ Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

warnings: Angst, small amount of blood, cheating, slut shaming maybe? Modern Au

~~~

“Does he think I’m a fucking idiot?! Does he think I can’t see the way his eyes follow girls’ asses as they walk by?” Gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, you struggle to hold back tears as you talk to your best friend on the other line.

“What am I doing wrong (....)? I’ve done everything right! I gave him all of me, and he’s out here eyeing other women!”

“That’s just the way he is (Y/N). I tried to warn you about him. You can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.” You bite your lip as your body shakes. Emotion overwhelmed you to the point you could no longer hold back tears.

“I don’t understand. He told me he loved me and that he couldn’t imagine a life without me. He made me a matching ring to his. He promised me that his playboy days were over…”

“Well, if he’s staring at other girls, then obviously he broke his promise.”

~~~

You're feeling a lot more numb than you thought you would. At first, you thought you’d be yelling, crying, and screaming. Asking him why? But now that you're actually hearing his moans along with an unknown woman's echoing in your shared bedroom, no tears fall from your eyes.

Maybe your heart and mind were mentally and emotionally ready for this. There were many signs he was starting to stray. Staring at other women, no longer being affectionate in public, you even saw him take off his ring once. He hasn’t done it again, but that was the last straw your heart could take when you tried to ignore the signs.

You should've known it’d end like this. He’s been a fuck boy all throughout high school and college. Slithering his way into vulnerable hearts and crushing them without a care about the people he’s heart. How you’ve been friends with him for so long and knowing what he was doing was something you criticized yourself for.

While you weren’t best friends during high school and college, you both always had a class together. The two of you just ended up talking during each of them. Well, him hitting on you and you always telling him that you rather swim in hell’s flames than get with him. All throughout high school and college, he’d do this. In a way, you said no to avenge all the hearts he’s broken. But once college started, you accidentally started growing feelings for the idiot. Yet, you still said no until graduation day. He came up to you with a bouquet of roses made of metal that he made in shop class. Every rose was made individually, letting you pluck one out and hold it in your hands. Everyone in said class said he’d been working on it forever. Throwing away and remaking it more times than anyone could count. All to make sure it was perfect. It was then that you finally said yes. No one had done anything so thoughtful for you before.

But when you told your best friend the news, she wasn’t happy.

“What?!”

“Listen, I know it sounds stupid-”

“That’s because it is stupid (Y/N)! We both know his past and how he still was before you agreed to go out with him! How are you sure he isn’t gonna do the same shit to you?!”

“He’s been asking me for years and actually made me this metal bouquet of flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, though?” Showing her the flowers, you watch her sigh.

“What happens when he breaks your heart? What will you do then?” You were silent as you looked away from her. Her hands go to your shoulders, and it makes you look at her.

“I just don’t want you crying over someone like him. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

“I know. Thank you for watching out for me. I’m going to give him a chance. Maybe he’s ready to grow up? But if I get my heart broken. Then you’ll get to say, ‘I told you so’.” Laughing at the last part, you pull (.....) into a hug and enjoy how you could always rely on her to be by your side.

Your eyes caught the metal bouquet on the kitchen table. The sun hit it just right to where it shined in your eyes. Furrowing your brows, an immediate disgust came over you as you looked at them. The one thing that had you thinking he’d changed was laughing at you and calling you a fool for falling for it.

Turning away from the bedroom door, you carefully and quietly walked to the metal sculpture. You pull one of the roses out from the vase they resided in and look at it. You twirled it with your fingers before gripping it tightly. Using your other hand, you encase the metal rosebud with the palm of your hand before twisting it harshly.

The sharp metal cut into your hand as you ripped off the rose head. A small hiss escaped you, yet you continued. Putting down the first destroyed rose, you move on to the second one. Then the third, fourth, fifth, until every single rose had been ripped apart. By the time you were finished, the stems of the flowers were scattered across the kitchen table, as well as the blood-covered roses. A good representation of a broken heart if you say so.

You could still hear the moans coming from the bedroom, and the more you listened and paid attention, the more you swore you recognized the tone of voice. Tip-toeing to the door, you place your ear against the wood. Taking a few seconds, you listen carefully to try to pinpoint who it could be.

“Eustass~”

As soon as the words were heard, you felt your world shatter. That was (.....)’s voice. That was (.....) in there fucking your boyfriend. And your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend. The two people you cared about the most stabbing you in the back. It’s even worse knowing that (.....) was cheating on her own boyfriend, Trafalgar Law. The smartest person you’ve ever met. He was valedictorian in high school and had the highest grades in college. He's now a world known respected doctor who’s saved so many lives. Everything he’s done, and this is what happens to him? How could Eustass and (.....) pull this on you and Law?

A rage washed over you as soon as you heard her moan his name again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you unlock it and call Law. You thankfully had his number after a project you guys did together a month before college ended, and you just never remembered to delete it.

“Come on, Law. Pick up.” Whispering, you cross your fingers.

“(Y/N)-ya? Why are you-”

“I really need you to stay on the line, okay? I’m going to facetime you now, alright?”

“What? Why? (Y/N)-ya, I have to go back to work-”

“(.....)’s cheating on you with my boyfriend right now as we speak. Don’t believe me? Listen!” You put your phone against the door, and all you heard was silence on Law’s side of the phone. A groan of (.....)’s name leaving Eustass’s mouth finally made you snap.

“That’s it!” Busting open the door, your met with a half-naked Eustass and a very naked (.....).

“Shit (Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)! It’s not what it looks like!” Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you finally feel your anger bubble over.

“Don’t pull that shit with me! If your gonna be a backstabbing whore at least admit it! Fucking my boyfriend?! The boyfriend you hated?! Did you just want to fuck him the whole time?! How long has this been going on?!” You watched as (.....) scrambled to get her clothes on, and Eustass pushed his dick back in his pants.

“This is the only time it’s happened, I swear!”

“This is all an accident (Y/N), okay? I promise-”

“Oh, so your dick accidentally found its way into her? I don’t believe that for a second! And don’t tell me about your bullshit promises!” You can feel the cut on your hand finally start to sting as blood starts to puddle against the floor. The cut must have been much deeper than you originally thought.

“You're bleeding! (Y/N) are you okay?!-”

“Oh, don’t act like you care (.....)! If you actually cared, you wouldn’t be fucking my boyfriend in my bed! If you actually had a fucking heart, you wouldn’t have cheated on Law either!” The mention of Law's name has a look of horror appear on (.....)'s face.

“Please don’t tell him (Y/N)! I love him, and I don’t want him to leave me!”

“I’m breaking up with you.” (.....)’s face dropped when she realized Law heard everything. Tears start pouring down her face.

“That makes two of us.” You take off the ring Eustass gave you before walking over to (.....) Plopping it into her hand, you look at her with hatred and a disgusted smile.

“Obviously, this was meant for you since he loves you so much he can’t stop saying your name.” You grab the bag you left by the bedroom door before turning around and start to collect things around the apartment that you need.

“I’ll make sure to tell the landlord that my name’s off the lease and that I’ll gather my things tomorrow morning.” Holding everything you could gather at the moment, you make your way to the front door.

“Where do you think you're going?!” You feel Eustass grab your wrist and bring you closer to him. Looking into his eyes, you see panic, fear, and anger swirling around in them.

“Leaving, obviously! I’m not gonna stay and shatter my heart more after seeing a man I loved, wanted to marry even, fucking my now ex-best friend.” The panic grew more evident as he pulled you to his chest. Both arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t leave.

“You can’t leave, alright! I know I fucked up, but please, let’s talk about this. She means nothing to me! She’s just some slut-”

“A slut you fucked knowing you were taken.” Tears started spilling from your eyes as you felt him hold you closer.

“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why’d you say you loved me when you out fucking my best friend? How dare you hold me close and act like the stench of sex and her perfume isn’t surrounding you?”

“I’m outside in the car (Y/N).” Hearing Law’s voice shocked you as you remember you never hung up on him. He was so quiet, and you heard nothing on the other side of the line. Having him even show up was surprising, but you weren’t gonna throw away this opportunity to get away from Eustass and (.....).

“Alright, be right there-”

“No, she won’t! Fuck off, Trafalgar, and take your bitch with you!” Eustass grabbed your phone and hung up before throwing your phone on the couch.

“Eustass! Are you-” You feel one of his hands push your head to his. His lips met yours, and you could feel the urgency in his kisses.

“Please don’t…leave me…” Kissing your between words only had your heart shattering more. How could he kiss you like he loves you after pulling a stunt like this?

It took almost everything inside you not to dig your fingers into his hair and kiss him back. You wanted it all to be a dream and that when you woke up, you’d be sleeping against his chest.

Putting your hand against his bare chest, you feel his bare skin against your open wound. It made him pull away from his panicked kisses when he felt your bloody hand on his chest.

“Jesus (Y/N)! What happened?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Stay here, I’m grabbing bandages!” Letting you go, you see him rush to the bathroom. Taking this chance, you grab your phone and start running out the door. Anything you can carry in tow, you run down the stairs as you hear (.....) scream your name and Eustass yelling at you to stop.

But who was he to tell you what to do?

Bursting out the apartment complex’s door, you see Law’s car parked waiting for you. Using all your strength, you run as fast as you can. Grabbing the car door, You swung it open before slamming it shut. Everything you brought with you on your lap.

“Drive!” Wasting no time, Law stomps on the gas, and as you see Eustass run out of the apartment, watching you and Law drive away.

~~~

If you guys do want this to be an actual fic series, let me know cause this concept is quite interesting to me.

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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liv3laughlev · 1 month

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BABY? BABY!! // ★.⁗☕️⚬☆

content warnings: nsfw, fem & afab reader, hubby!toji, reader is written to have hair long enough to be played with and pushed away, breeding kink, creampie, toji has baby fever, rough sex

author’s note: thank you guys for the support on my first post i hope you guys like this one too :D

masterlist !!

toji never really wanted children, for the most part, he actually disliked them. they were loud and sticky and honestly more expensive to take care of than anything. but today you had agreed to watch your nephew, who was only just a few months old.

you would carry him all over the house, spoiling him rotten with affection. and when toji came home from a long day of work he was a little surprised to hear the sound of a baby giggling while you tickled him.

“what’s this about?” he asked as he sat on the couch, observing the smile you had on your face as you played with your nephew.

“i’m watching him because my sister had to go to work early and her husband couldn’t watch him since he also had work!” you said with a sweet smile as you looked up at him from the floor.

“alright..” he sighed as he sat back, just deciding to observe you.

he noticed how you were basically glowing while playing with your nephew, the sweetest smile on your face. it had him thinking— what would it be like if the two of you had your own kid? he was stuck thinking about what it’d be like all evening until your sister came to pick up her son.

now alone with you he was watching tv with you, his arm wrapped around you while you were snuggled up next to him.

he wanted to say something about earlier, no- needed to. but to be honest we wasn’t sure you’d be into the idea. having kids is such a big step. there’s no guarantee you two won’t regret it down the line. but it was now or never.

“babe?” he spoke up, playing with your hair a little.

“yes?” you asked sweetly, tracing your finger on his stomach some.

toji struggled to figure out how to word what he wanted, which wasn’t often so this was a little nerve wracking for him. “fuck it..” he murmured. “i wanna give you my baby.” he spoke.

your eyes widened a little. “do you mean.. you wanna have one with me?” you asked, biting your lip a little. you had been wanting this basically since the two of you got married a year ago, and part of you didn’t believe this was actually happening.

“yeah.. saw you with that kid and honestly it made me realize it.. do you want that too?” he asked, pushing your hair out of your face some. the nod you gave him was all the confirmation he needed.

“oh fuck!” you whimpered as he had you bouncing on his cock— his cock was reaching deep inside you, his hands gripping onto your hips while he fucked you. you couldn’t even think at this point, hands reaching behind to grasp onto his arms.

“that’s it, baby.. keep bouncing like that..” he groaned, eyes glued to the way you would grind back against him. he couldn’t even think straight either at this point, the only thing in his mind is his determination to get you knocked up.

“toji.. ‘m getting tired..” you whined, your thighs burning a little from riding him. you had probably came already twice and he hadn’t came once, and he planned to dump a couple loads inside you.

toji smirked and didn’t hesitate to bend you over in front of him completely, your ass up while he pushed your face down a little. you cried out in pleasure when his cock bullied deeper inside you. “that better, baby?” he teased, giving your ass a nice slap before his hands rested on your hips while he fucked you so well from behind.

“f-fuuck..” you whined out, your eyes rolling back ever so slightly. “please.. need it.. i need it.. can’t handle it much longer..” you rambled while you felt his hand reach down to toy with your clit, his thumb rubbing it in tight circles.

“i knoww baby.. just a little longer..” he chuckled, “i’m gonna cum soon.. gonna dump it all in that pretty pussy of yours..” he moaned, his eyes taking every reaction you had to what he did.

you nodded desperately, your moans getting a little sharp as you neared another orgasm. “please.. yes please..” you whimpered.

toji groaned as he heard you begging for him. he felt the urge to rest his head back but he wanted to see you as you came more than anything. he loved the way your body shook, your voice suddenly high as you squirmed under him. you gasped, your hands searching for something to hold onto as you finally came. toji nearly lost it as he felt the snug feeling your cunt gave his cock, and he didn’t hesitate to slam his hips against yours one more time before his cum spurt deep inside you.

you two took a minute or two to catch your breath, and toji gently pulled out of you. he watched the way his cum slowly seeped from your pussy, feeling his cock stir right back to life.

he kept you in bed for at least two hours after that to fuck you more, but it definitely paid off because a few weeks later you showed him your positive pregnancy test.

#lev.com☁️#dividers by cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji jjk smut #smut #toji fushiguro jjk smut

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runa-falls · 1 year

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scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

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“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined.

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.”

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry.

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform.

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you.

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.”

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close.

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped.

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night.

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk.

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you.

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not.

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him.

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?”

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs.

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat.

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.”

Yes.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t waste any time.

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs.

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down.

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes.

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him.

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders.

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good.

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite.

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away.

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression.

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in.

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it.

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute.

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive.

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference.

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them.

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck.

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you.

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds.

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest.

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.”

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole.

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing.

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.”

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table.

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?”

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you.

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady.

“You’re hot.”

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs.

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself.

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.”

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there.

Then he starts moving.

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that.

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive.

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars.

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.”

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you.

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it.

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you.

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.”

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.”

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.”

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taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara smut

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wildemaven · 3 months

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strangers : fog | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 5208 chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo

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It’s sweet.

But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction.

It’s perfect. Just enough.

The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber.

Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure.

You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing.

Finally.

You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot.

He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness.

“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment.

“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected.

The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you.

“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting.

“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”

His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible.

He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief.

“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips.

Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions.

It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body.

“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”

“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths.

“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”

“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing.

“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”

You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.

“Fuck— Joel!”

You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness.

Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding.

The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin.

The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing.

There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins.

The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you.

The beach.

Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.

You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue.

Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake.

Good Morning, Babe Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit. Love you Xoxo

You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation.

A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it.

Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions.

Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you.

Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom.

Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then.

Did she find out? Find out what?

The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.

The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks.

The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return.

Good Morning! Are you busy? No. Are you okay? Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to. One sec!

It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief.

It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air.

The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat.

Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless.

Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better.

“Mmm… Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone.

“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”

“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well.

“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.”

“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air.

“I’ve got some time.”

Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone.

“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night, then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”

“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely.

“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”

“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”

“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”

“Fucking men, I swear.”

“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”

After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night.

Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.

There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation.

You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk.

You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed.

“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well.

“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette.

“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”

““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you.

“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes.

“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.”

There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh.

“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before.

“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”

“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“

“Ashley.” Details Jacey.

“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge.

“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead.

“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”

“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud.

“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession.

“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.”

“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”

“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”

The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again.

It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever.

On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being.

The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel.

In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.

You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone.

The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner.

Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together.

Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you.

His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing.

“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear.

Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant.

“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”

“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation.

“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed.

Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.

“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face.

“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom.

Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him.

“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him.

“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.

“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you.

Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it.

“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more.

“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face.

You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways.

“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected.

“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair.

“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground.

He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair.

“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him.

His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more.

“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.”

“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss.

You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.

His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment.

His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.

“Fuck— Dave!”

“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.

“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more.

Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.

“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again.

You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it.

Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.

“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release.

‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there.

Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side.

“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.

A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time.

You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge.

It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it.

Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body.

A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific.

It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through.

The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire.

“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height.

Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest.

“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face.

The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.”

“Love you too, Dave.”

#Dave York #dave york x reader #Dave York x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

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ursuburbanmother · 2 months

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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!

Word count: 5k.

Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17, 1970. Still.

Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.

As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.

“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.

“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”

“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”

“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.

To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”

Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”

“Female student? What do you mean?”

“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”

“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.

He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”

“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”

“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”

“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”

Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”

Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”

Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”

“You want some of that? All right.”

“Thank you.”

“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.

“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.

…

“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.

“Why? Do I smell or something?”

“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”

Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”

Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.

You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.

“What's wrong?” You ask.

“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.

You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”

“What photo?”

“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”

“I resent that baseless accusation.”

“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.

“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.

“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.

Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”

“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”

“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”

“Hey, take it easy, guys.”

You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”

Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.

You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”

He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.

He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.

“What is going on here?”

“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”

“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.

“What about?”

“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.

“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”

“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”

“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.

“They’re so good.”

“I listen to them all the time.”

Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”

You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”

…

After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.

Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.

“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.

You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.

“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.

“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.

“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”

The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.

“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.

Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.

You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.

Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”

The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”

“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”

…

You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.

“You look very dapper,” You smirk.

“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”

“Probably. I don’t blame him.”

“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”

“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”

You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”

“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”

“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.

You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”

You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.

“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”

“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”

You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”

“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”

“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”

Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.

…

December 20, 1970

The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.

“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”

In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.

When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.

During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.

Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.

“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”

“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.

“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”

“A what?”

“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”

“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.

“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.

“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.

“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.

Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.

“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.

“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”

“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.

Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.

“Did your mother make you that?”

He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”

You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.

…

Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.

“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”

“No? Are you making that for the kid?”

“Yeah, I feel bad.”

“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.

“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”

“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”

“No thanks.”

Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.

“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.

“Are you all right?” You ask.

“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.

“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”

“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”

“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.

You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.

“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.

“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”

“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.

“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”

Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look. …

December 22, 1970

Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.

Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”

“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.

From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.

“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”

You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.

“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”

“That would be proper protocol, yes.”

“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.

Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”

Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.

As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.

“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”

“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

“Excursion,” he repeats.

Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”

“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.

Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”

“Same to you.”

“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.

You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”

Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.

“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”

“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”

“Um-.”

“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”

“Angus no-,”

“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.

“No Angus. I don’t want to.”

“What, why?”

You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”

“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”

“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”

“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”

“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”

“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”

“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”

“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.

You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.

“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”

You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms. …

You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”

You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.

Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.

The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”

“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”

“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”

“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”

“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.

“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.

You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”

As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”

Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow. …

You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.

“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.

“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”

“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.

“Come on. Please?”

“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”

“Y/n,” he whines.

“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.

“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”

“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”

You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.

a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers

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goldenhourwriter · 11 months

Text

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

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lixzey · 2 months

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Bf!Luke Castellan x Filipina child of Aphrodite!reader please? I haven't seen any of Filipina readers so I'm begging on my knees 🥺

In which she misses home terribly and decides to cook some of her fave food (preferably sinigang, adobo, or like something else! you can do some research, if you'd like 🫶🏻)

And she makes Luke try it! But he's so whiny bcs he hasn't even heard of the dish's name.

Anywaaay, I loved lovelorn!!! Waiting for the next update like 👀 Your writing is just so 🤌🏻 chef's kiss!!

late night cravings

summary: you miss home terribly, so you decide to cook your favorite ulam

warnings: filipina!reader x luke castellan! they're both 19 (set before tlt), they're like on vacation (luke and reader have an apartment in the east village, courtesy of reader’s dad who’s a filipino actor) away from camp duties for a while, swearing (both filipino and english), luke is a picky ass eater, making out, kinda suggestive content

a/n: i got so excited with this 😭 i'm a filipina and an aphrodite kid, so this was so fun to write! I hope you like it!

“What on earth are you cooking?” Luke asks, leaning against the kitchen door frame of the apartment the two of you own. “I woke up to the smell of that.”

You immediately whip your head around to see your boyfriend, half naked and disheveled from sleep. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” You chuckle, blowing strands of your hair away from your face.

“It's the middle of the night, princess, and you're cooking something that smells like vomit.” Luke grumbles as he makes his way towards you, still bleary eyed as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I just missed home,” You giggle, reaching to grab the tongs to flip over the daing na bangus so it doesn’t burn. “Something wrong, baby?”

“Yeah, it smells like shit.” Luke complains, burying his face in your neck. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” You chuckle, placing the tongs down on a plate, escaping Luke’s grasp and making your way to the kitchen island, leaning against it. “It’s good, I promise.”

Luke stares at the pan. “I am not eating that thing.” He then turns to you, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Where’s the mac and cheese?”

“It’s just milkfish, dummy.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s refusal to eat anything other than mac and cheese. “Also, you finished the last box of mac hours ago, remember?”

“Ramen?” Luke asks, hopeful that there’s still some left other than the fish that’s stinking up the whole apartment.

When you shook your head, literal fear crept onto his handsome face. “Anything else?” He asks, his voice cracking like a teenaged boy going through puberty for the first time, making you burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s nothing left, you’ve finished everything.” You say through fits of laughter at your boyfriend’s food crisis. “Guess you’ll have to deal with the food I’m gonna cook.”

Luke’s eyes comically widen, like one of those cartoon characters you’ve watched when you were a kid. “There’s more?”

“Yeah,” You nod, jerking your head to the refrigerator littered with lots of printed photos of the dates you and Luke went on over the years you’ve been together. “I marinated some pork for adobo.”

“Ado-what?”

“Adobo, it’s a Filipino staple.” You answer with a chuckle. “It’s pork marinated in vinegar, soy sauce, and some garlic. I added some peppercorns too. My lola used to cook it for me when I was a kid.”

Luke makes his way to you, his large hands creeping onto your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. “As much as you love it, princess, I’m not eating any of it.”

“And why not?” You scoff, raising a brow at him.

“I don’t like it, that’s why.” Luke insists, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna go and get some real food.”

You sigh, annoyed by your boyfriend’s pickiness in food. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s been choosing what he eats like a child. It was always mac and cheese, chicken, pizza, and burgers. It was a struggle to feed him, honestly. Since he won’t eat anything apart from what he’s used to. Luke was lucky that the dryads serve mac almost with every meal—which is mostly for the kids or a side dish. You’ve tried to incorporate vegetables in his meals but somehow he always notices. It was infuriating, to the point that you just wanted to shove a broccoli floret down his throat.

All of a sudden, the smell of burning infiltrates your sense of smell, triggering the fire alarms simultaneously.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You frantically mutter, jumping off the kitchen island and running to the burning bangus on the stove. You grab the pan, forgetting it was on the fire for minutes on end. “Putangina!” You swear, abruptly pulling your hand off the pan’s handle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, here,” Luke grabs the pan with oven mitts, placing it on the counter.

You sigh as you stare at the burnt fish, hearing the pan hiss against the cold surface.

Luke, being the best boyfriend that he is, pulls you in a tight hug, his body heat engulfing you. “It’s okay, princess. It was an accident.”

“I’ve been craving that,” You mumble against his chest. “Stupid fire.”

“You still have the first one you cooked,” Luke points out. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

You raise your head, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” you mumble, lower lip out in a pout.

“Don’t be sad over a burnt fish, alright?”

You glare at him, pinching his side. “It was a tasty fish.”

“Geez, princess,” Luke scowls playfully. “A fish is more important than me?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, rolling your eyes. “I paid five bucks for that.”

Luke raises a brow at you. “When did you even get time to get them?”

“You sleep like a lamb, baby,” You chuckle, turning to walk to the refrigerator. “I went to a Filipino store.”

“There’s one in New York?” Luke asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said there weren’t any?”

“That was years ago, dummy.” You snort, grabbing the refrigerator handle, opening it. “Anyway, look what I got.”

An array of Filipino snacks filled the middle shelf of the fridge. You had gone all out. It wasn’t often that you splurge on food, but when a craving hits, it hits.

There were some Choco Mallows—chocolate covered marshmallows—your favorite treat as a child that your lola always bought for you. A jar of ube macapuno that you hated as a child but learned to love just recently. Some dried mangoes, pastillas, a jar of wafer sticks—stik o—a slice of brazo de mercedes, and many more.

“How the hell are you even gonna finish all of that?”

You shake your head, smirking. “You and I are gonna eat each and every item that I bought.”

Luke scowls, folding his toned arms over his chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Castellan,” You say, placing your hands on your hips. “You are going to eat whatever I serve you.”

Luke pouts, pairing it off with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Nope.”

“That smells like vomit,” Luke complains as you seared the marinated pork for adobo. “And it looks like it too!”

“Quit it,” You say with a murderous glare. “Don’t yap at it until you’ve tasted it.”

“I think I’m going to puke all my guts out,” Luke gags, making his way to the sink.

“For the love of the gods,” You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. It was just food, and he’s whining about it like there’s no tomorrow.

You turn your attention away from your picky eater of a boyfriend and back to the pan with the pork searing brown nicely. You then grab the remaining liquid from the marinade—which was not much, which it would have to do—pouring it in, causing the pan to hiss at the difference in temperature. You turn the stove down to medium high heat, before leaving it to simmer.

Much to Luke’s misery.

“You aren’t covering it?” Luke asks incredulously. “It’s smelling the place worse than the fish did!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Luke.” You sigh, grabbing a pouch of dried mangoes before taking a seat on one of the bar stools over the kitchen island. “It’s gonna taste good, I promise.”

“Ugh,” Luke wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gag me.”

“Nah, you’d like it too much.” You giggle, popping a slice of dried mango in your mouth.

Luke scoffs playfully. “Damn right I will, princess.”

“Then stop whining,”

“You love me,” Luke grins as he walks towards you, capturing your lips in his, his hand cupping your face.

You hum as your lips mold with his, your shoulders relaxing as he kisses you.

You pull away from the kiss, pushing him slightly. “You’re distracting me, Castellan,” you sigh dreamily, a soft blush covering your cheeks as your boyfriend looks at you like you’re the only thing in this world.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your lips as he trails towards your ear. “Is it working?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

“Luke,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest. “Stop, I don’t want to burn the adobo.”

Luke chuckles, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair. “Alright, but later?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you promise to taste the adobo and bangus,” You smirk at him, pushing him slightly away from your body as you stand up. “Maybe I’ll let it happen, you know? On this counter.”

“Do I really have to?”

“If you want to bend me over this counter, yes.”

Luke sighs as he reluctantly nods. “Fine, I’ll taste them.”

“That’s a good boy,” You coo, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Go and sit,” you jerk your head towards the bar stool you just stood up from. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Luke obliges, sitting on the stool with his arms crossed over the other. He grins at you, a mischievous look you know oh so well in his beautiful browns.

Luke was teasing you, the little shit.

You chuckle, shaking your head, before turning to make your way to the stove, swaying your hips as you did—earning a small grunt from Luke behind you.

As you check up on the adobo, you see that almost half of the liquids have evaporated, leaving you with a slightly oily adobo—just the way you liked it. You turned down the heat, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to check if the pork was tender.

You poke the fork through the meat effortlessly, making you smile. The perfect adobo.

You quickly grab a plate and load it up with the delicious ulam you’ve grown up with, hoping Luke would appreciate it as much as you did.

“Here it is,” You excitedly announce, serving the adobo with a spoon and fork in front of him with a proud smile etched on your lips. “It’s better with rice, but it’s good on its own too.”

Luke stares at the meat in front of him, as if the adobo was going to attack him if he wasn’t vigilant enough. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like it’s burnt,”

You sigh, taking a seat beside him. “It’s supposed to look like that, but it isn’t burnt. It’s because of the searing, plus the soy sauce the pork has already absorbed.” You grab the utensils, shoveling a healthy amount of meat and sauce on the spoon using the fork. “Open wide, baby!”

Luke shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”

“Luke,” You growl, raising the adobo filled spoon up to his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth before I shove this spoon down your throat forcibly.”

Luke raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, geez,” he chuckles, opening his mouth up. “Be gentle with me, princess.”

You glare at him before pushing the spoon inside of his mouth. “If you spit that out, you’re sleeping on the damn floor.”

Luke chews the contents of his mouth, his eyes widening. “Fuck, this is good!” He grins as he pulls the plate in front of him and immediately takes another spoonful. “Mhmm, that hits the spot!” Luke says through a mouth full of the savory pork dish you cooked.

“Good, baby?” You giggle, reaching to grab the fork from him to get a bite of your masterpiece. “Don’t finish it all, save some for me!”

“Losers, weepeers, baby,” Luke mumbles through bites. “You sure you didn’t use any love magic on this?”

You recoil, slapping his arm playfully. “I did not use gayuma, Castellan.”

“Gayuma?”

“It’s love magic, in Filipino,” You answer, taking another bite of your food. “I have got to teach you more Filipino words.”

“I’m in love with this—what is it called again?”

“Adobo,” You laugh, taking a bite of the said ulam. “Pork adobo.”

“Pork adobo, I love you!” Luke grins, like it’s the first time he’s ever tried food in eons.

You smile lovingly at your boy, looking all so happy and content. You could spend eternities just staring at him. Seeing Luke happy made you feel complete, like you’ve fulfilled a quest greater than anything the gods could dish out.

You could see a future with the man in front of you. You’ve honestly got nothing figured out, but Luke? He was the only thing you’ve got right in your life. You could see him, being the man you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with. You could see him being the father of your children, a little Luke and a little version of you, running around the front yard while you and Luke watch on the front porch with a multitude of toys sprawled around.

You fell in love with a careless god’s careful son, and he is the best thing that’s ever been yours.

“Princess,” You hear Luke call out to you, snapping you out of your daydreams. You look up, meeting his loving gaze, making your cheeks burn. Gods, it’s not fair of him to make me feel this much.

“Yeah?” You hum, moving your chair closer to him, smiling as you did. “What is it?”

Luke cups your face in his large hands, pulling you in close, barely an inch apart. “I love you.”

Your heart beats rapidly inside your rib cage, wondering how on earth does he manage to still make you feel like that giddy teenager who fell in love with him years ago.

You stare in his eyes for what felt like eons. You could feel Luke’s breath hot on your lips, begging you to seal it inside of him with a kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, a small smile curling onto your lips. “I love you too, baby.” you whisper, before closing in the distance between the two of you.

Luke’s hands make their way down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your lips parting, sliding his tongue in, eager to taste you—even though he’s done it more times than he could count.

His lips were soft, like a cloud grazing yours. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, but with a hint of smoke and citrus playing at your taste buds. You should have been used to it by now, being in a relationship with Luke for almost three years and all. But his touch numbs you. His touch is like being dipped into the cold ocean, pulling you in—drowning you, until he’s bruised into your mind.

Your hands creep around the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss—if it was even possible given the state of your tongues clashing with one another, fighting to assert dominance. You bite Luke’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his mouth. You feel this familiar heat pool inside your belly, along with something hard poking your ass.

You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen as you catch your breath. Before you could utter a word, Luke lifts you up on the counter, making you erupt in a fit of giggles. He then presses his forehead against yours, you could hear his slow breaths as your noses bump into each other.

“So, you lettin’ it happen, huh, princess?”

“You didn’t try the other one,” You feign annoyance, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Can’t make an exception for me, princess?” Luke smirks, his fingers delicately brushing against your arms.

“I think I can squeeze you in,” You chuckle, pulling away from him with a teasing grin. “You good with that, mister?”

“I’ll take anything as long as it’s with you.” Luke grabs your waist, pulling you back close to him. “Gods, you are so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand cupping your face.

“I love you,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest, on the place where his heart rests. “More than anything.”

“You are the best thing in my life.” Luke sighs before leaning in to kiss you again like his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around you like a vice. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on his curls as if he was your lifeline.

Luke’s hands fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He quickly reaches behind, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, tearing the offending fabric off of your breasts.

Luke takes his time to admire your body, as if it was the very first time he’d even seen your breasts out on full display for him, just for him. His cock strained painfully inside of his shorts and boxers, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You see what you do to me, princess?”

You look at him with innocence in your eyes, which at the same time looks sultry and inviting, driving him crazy every time you do. “Who, me?”

“Aren’t you just a little vixen?”

“So, to the room?”

Luke shakes his head, moving towards you, his hands just below your breasts as he smirks. “Here, over the fucking counter.”

tags: @lilmaymayy @ma1dita @sc4rl3ttdafoxx @hottiewifeyyyy

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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vivmaek · 1 year

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PART SEVEN (roast edition)

Libra Suns are soo oblivious sometimes. I can never tell if they’re doing it to get something or if they’re actually having a dumb blond moment.

People with Mars in the 2nd house need to learn how to share. They become territorial over their possessions. As children, they were the types of kids to show off a cool toy and then go, “but you can’t play with this one because it's special.”

Mars in Pisces are the types to make a passive aggressive comment under their breath, and then when someone calls them out, they go, “I didn’t say anything!”

When people who have Mercury in the 8th house become obsessed about something, they will never shut up about it. Just when you think you’ve managed to steer conversation into a new direction, they will find a way to bring up whatever topic is plaguing their mind.

Pluto in Sagittarius generation is so self-righteous. Everyone is overly aggressive with their opinions, everyone thinks they’re right, and everyone is under the impression that we’re going to be these revolutionary radicals who will serve justice to those oppressed when most spend their time on the internet trying to cancel people. Like seriously we get so heated over nothing sometimes. I think that's because this generation really struggles with misdirected passion. I’m excited for these Pluto in Aquarius babies tho

Aries Moons and their temper tantrums, that's all.

People who have their Mars in Taurus will destroy things when they get angry, literally like a raging bull. They make a mess and fling things around, like what is that accomplishing?? And then afterwards they clean it up like nothing ever happened.

The uncomfortable look on a Gemini Moon's face when someone starts to cry, they wanna leave asap and are looking for the nearest exit.

Leos will cry, scream, and throw a fit over their hair. DO NOT MESS WITH THEIR HAIR. It's the one quality they like about themselves. A bad haircut or color treatment will have them SPIRALING. Like a serious identity crisis. They die inside when someone goes, “It's just hair, it will grow back.”

Mercury Libras and the lies they spread! They lie about the smallest things and it's usually in an effort to people-please.

People with their Mars in Sagittarius are psychos when they're mad. They lack the foresight to see how they’re putting themselves and others in danger. I’d say they are the most likely to carry out some form of revenge.

If you’re dealing with someone who has their Venus in the 8th house, make sure to establish some firm boundaries. They will just keep taking if you let them.

Venus 11th housers cause so much drama every time they develop feelings for one of their friends, I never seen this not cause tension within a friend group.

12th house stelliums and the way they always maintain distance, and everytime you get too close they pull back, actually super frustrating. Also the silent treatments they pull! They’re not even doing it to punish, they're just doing it because they’re uncomfortable, but it still ends up feeling like a punishment for the other person.

Mercury in Taurus individuals are sometimes too blunt. I honestly really love this quality hehe, but I have to admit they’ve offended me just by pointing out the obvious.

Aries 11th housers always feel like they’re in competition with their friends.

Moon Trine Uranus and crying at the most unexpected things. I have this friend that I’ve known since middle school, never saw her cry once. Even when we graduated and said our goodbyes for college, nothing. Then a year later, we were watching the finale for Euphoria together, and this girl started bawling at the end. I was like out of all the things to make you cry this is it?? Haha, I love her.

The Pluto in Virgo generation hands out criticisms left and right. If my friend's parents had this placement, I always felt like they were judging me.

Capricorns and their obsession with money, and also how they fail to realize that not everyone else is driven by monetary gains.

Aquarius’s love to act like their egos aren’t big. The only reason why Leos get checked more on this is because of their bold sense of expression.

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bbrissonn · 9 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐳𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬

summary: in which trevor broke up with you at the end of the season because of his own insecurity, but what happens when he's back in anaheim and he's had a little too much to drink

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting

warnings: slight smut, angst, fluff, swearing (i think), not proofread

pairing: trevor zegras x reader

wc: 4.9k (including lyrics)

a/n: based on the song bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo

guts masterlist

Hey

You’re eyes scanned the bar as you, along with your group of friends, walked into the place. The loud music filling your ears, making you grimace slightly. This was your first time going out since your break up with Trevor at the end of his first full NHL season, back in April. He had made the decisions to end your relationship only hours before going on his last road trip of the season, and when he came back home a couple of days later, all your things were gone.

You hadn’t tried to reach out to him when he left, instead choosing of just leaving and moving back into your parent’s house for the summer. Your friends were with you everyday, not wanting the end of your year long relationship to destroy like your previous breakup did. They understood that you were in the mood to go out every night, or any night at all, so movie nights, walks on the beach, ice cream runs were a daily thing.

Eventually, in early July, you started moving on from him, he hadn’t bothered to reach out to you either, so you had no choice but to do so. Slowly but surely, you started spending more time outside of your house, something your parents were grateful for. Then, you found yourself your own apartment, still close to home, but not too close to where Trevor lived so you wouldn't have to run into him in the store or on the streets.

Now here you were, October only a couple of days away, standing at a bar with a bright smile on your face as your friends talked about all the drama they heard from your high school days, which couple were still together, which ones weren’t, some of them were now married with kids, something that shocked you a bit since you were only 21, but if that’s what they wanted, good on them, you thought.

Haven’t heard from you in a couple of months

But I’m out right now and I’m all fucked up

And you’re callin’ my phone and you’re all alone

And I’m sensing some undertone

And I’m right here with all my friends

But you’re sending me your new address

And I know we’re done, I know we’re through

But, God, when I look at you

As the morning hours approached, it was safe to say you were completely drunk, somehow this casual night out, had turned into you guys celebrating going into your last year of college, meaning way more drinks were bought than expected.

You were all sitting in a booth, laughs echoing, when you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans shorts. You struggled a bit, but eventually, you got your phone out, squinting your eyes to see who was calling you.

❌trevor❌

You let out a sigh watching your phone ring until his contact disappeared, and then voicemail notification popped up. You knew you couldn’t do this to yourself, you shouldn’t, but you wanted to. So, you excused yourself, claiming you needed to use the bathroom, of course some of your friends suggested they came with you, not wanting you to be alone. But you assured them you’d be fine.

“Hey, it’s me. I… Uh, it’s been a while.” His voice echoed through the speaker of your phone, making you bit your lips as you heard his voice for the first time since you two broke up. “I hope you’re doing good, I really do.” He continued, his voice shaky a bit. Before he said anything else, you heard him sip on a drink and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if you’re busy or whatnot, maybe you’re having a night with your parents or something.” He added, sipping once again on his drink, and now you could tell he was a bit tipsy by the way his words were slurred a bit. “But I was wondering if you’d wanna meet up? Talk a bit about what happened. I’ll text you my new place, come if you want.”

And then it went silent, but he hadn’t hung-up, after about ten seconds of silence, you decided to hang up, telling yourself he was probably done and just miss clicked the red button on his phone. You stayed in the bathroom stall for a bit, wondering what you should do. You wanted nothing more than to see him, talk to him, get some closure about why he ended your relationship, but you didn’t want to get even more heartbroken than you already were.

When you made it back to the booth, you knew what you were going to do. Was it a smart decision? No, absolutely not. But did it seem like a good one to your drunk self? Yes, absolutely.

My brain goes, “Ah”

Can’t hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)

Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

Should probably not

I should probably, probably not

As you announced your departure to your friends, a lot of them suggested to go with you, make sure you stay safe, but you convince them you’d be fine, only having a couple of minutes to walk and promising them you’d call them if anything happened.

As you started your adventure towards your desired place, your brain started to come to it’s sense. This was horrible idea, but you didn’t care. You craved to hear him, see him, smell his cologne that you adored so much, you need him. So, you just ignored what your head was telling you, choosing instead to follow your heart and what it wanted.

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

Fuck it, it’s fine

As you got closer and closer, the anxiety of seeing him again started to settle in. What if he decided you took too long and left? What if he had another girl over and asked you to come just to rub it in your face? No, he wouldn’t that. Trevor could be an asshole on the ice sometimes, and to other guys in the bar if he saw them let their eyes linger on your body a little too long for his liking, but he wouldn’t do anything like that.

That’d be such a dick move from him, plus, you were still in contact with Jamie, and from what you understood through the boy’s weird texts, Trevor hadn’t seen any other girl yet. So, truly, what was the worst that could happen, right?

Yes, I know that he’s my ex

But can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend

The biggest lie I ever said

Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex

But can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend

I just tripped and fell into his bed

Deciding that at least informing your parents of where you were going, or more like who you were going to see was the least you could do. That way if your friends went over to check on you, they’d call your parents to see if you had gone to their house, they’d know of the horrible decision you had made the previous night.

Your mother wasn’t too fond of your idea, but she had met Trevor, he was a sweetheart, he knew you weren’t in any danger. If anything, she was over the moon that you had decided to finally go see the boy and talk about what had happened.

Trevor had met your parents countless of times during your relationship, your dad being a big hockey fan, even though his favorite team was the Kings and not the Ducks. Every time you’d mention coming to visit them for the day, Trevor coming along with you, they’d almost jump from excitement, happy that their daughter had finally found a good boy for herself. They were a little cautious of him at first, doing their researches online before meeting him and seeing not so good things about him and his reputation of being a playboy, but all that worry quickly washed away when they caught the two of you sitting on the front porch watching the sunset. The window in the living room giving them a perfect view of the two of you, wide smiles on your faces as they saw Trevor looking at their daughter the way your father looked at your mother, pure love in their eyes.

No, your mother was more scared of you walking the streets of Anaheim all alone in the dark, and you understood her. The world wasn’t a safe place, neither during dark or light, especially for young woman your age. The fact that you were drunk didn’t help either, so you decided to stay on the phone with her until you made it safely to Trevor’s place.

Now I’m gettin’ in the car, wreckin’ all my plans

I know I should stop, but I can’t

And I told my friend I was asleep

But I never said where (in his sheets)

And I pull up to your place on the second floor

And you’re standing, smiling at the door

And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter men

But I really can’t remember when

Your hand were shaking slightly as you knocked on his door, making sure not to make too much noise to wake up his neighbors, but enough so he could hear you. You heard movement behind the door, along with the sound of the TV getting paused.

Then, the next thing you knew, Trevor was standing in front of you, a beer bottle in hand. A wide grin appeared on his face as your eyes meet for the first time in months. He had gotten a haircut, thankfully, the last time you saw him, his hair kept covering his eyes and he was always complaining about it, but refused to get it cut anywhere other than his hairdresser back home.

Suddenly, all the emotions you had been holding for the past couple of months rose within you. All the anger, hurt and love you felt towards him were all present inside you, making you extremely confused as to how you felt.

“You came.” He stated, his eyes growing wide as he realized what was going on, you were here.

“I did.” You confirmed, more to yourself than to him. Suddenly, you regretted coming here, but at the same time, you were so grateful to see him. Almost as if seeing him just confirmed that you’re relationship truly happened, that it was real and wasn’t just something you made up in your sleep, that he was real.

“Come in.” He said, opening up his door completely for you to walk in. There was still a couple of boxes in the corner of his living room, and there was barely any furniture, meaning he hadn’t been back for a while.

As the two of you walked into his living room, it was the first time you truly saw him. The lights in the hallway were dimed down considering the time, and all the lights in his kitchen and entry way were turned off. His skin was tanned, his muscles were more defined than they were back in spring, but one of the first thing you had noticed was his arm, more specifically his left one. It was now home to not one, but two tattoos.

You knew he was planning on getting some soon, it was something he talked about a lot during your relationship, but he never figured out what to get.

“A spider? Seriously?” You laughed as the two of you sat down on his couch. He gave you a weird look before realizing you were looking at his tattoos.

“Spiderman.” He answered with shrug, making you roll your eyes with a smile before letting your eyes drift over to the TV. Your heart dropped slightly as you realized what he was watching, Shameless, your favourite show. He had never watched it before the two of you started dating, and you quickly made sure to make him watch all the episodes, gasping when he informed you he’d never seen it before. You were about to mention it to him, but the screen went black before any words could leave your mouth.

“So, how you been?” He asked, his words a little slurred. You looked over at him, only to see he was already looking at you with a way too familiar look. A look he always had on his face when he’d be talking to you, or at any moment really, one that was reserved just for you and no one else. Only making you wonder even more why he had ended things between the two of you.

My brain goes, “Ah”

Can’t hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)

Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

Should probably not

I should probably, probably not

“Seriously? You break up with me for no reason, then five months later you call me, drunk, asking me to come over to talk, and all you have you say is ‘how you been’?” You asked, the anger in you taking control. Trevor looked down at his lap at your words. He knew calling you was a bad idea, he didn’t even know why he decided to do it in the first place. Sure, he had been thinking about it ever since he walked out the door in April, apologize to you a million times and do anything you’d want him to if he meant he could be yours again, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t break your heart even more than he already did.

“Listen, Bug, what I did, what I said, it was the worst mistake of my life.” He started, the nickname he had given slipping past his lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened and I was so stupid to end it. And, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and during our relationship, but being your boyfriend was never one. I am so in love with you―”

“Then why’d you end it, Trevor?” You cut him off, your voice stern as you avoided his gaze, scared that tears would start to form in your eyes if you looked over at him.

“Because you deserve better than me. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met, and I know that you don’t think you are, but to me you are. You’re kind to everyone, you’re smart, you care about everyone even if they’ve done bad things, you’re perfect. And I am… am just me. I fuck up everything good that happens in my life, I hurt people without even realizing it, I am not a good person, Y/N/N. You deserve better than me.” He confessed, his voice low, almost scared that you’d hear him. After he was done, he chugged the rest of his beer before adding one more thing. “I am not good enough for you.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone. Every time you’d meet someone I know, they’d always say they didn’t understand what someone like you saw in me, like I wasn’t good enough to be your boyfriend. All my family and friends, they all love you, but they don’t understand why you’re with me, and honestly, I don’t either.” He admitted, the tone and volume in his voice not changing. You knew Trevor was a bit insecure about himself, scared that he was too high energized that people wouldn’t want to be around him, but you never knew it was this deep.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Trev?” You asked him, your voice shaky a bit. You start to wonder how long he had been feeling this way, suddenly feeling guilty for not noticing it. The boy next to you scoffed a bit before answering as he opened another beer.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my stupid problems.”

“Trevor… you could never burden me. I care about you, so much―”

“You care about everyone.”

“Yeah, maybe I do, but I don’t care about them the way I care about you, Trevor. You’ve made me feel the best I ever have in years, you’ve helped me over come so many challenges in the last year, you’ve been there for me through everything. The way I care about you, Trev, I can’t even explain it. And I am so, so sorry I didn’t realized that something was wrong and hearing you talk about it makes me feel guilty that when you needed someone to help you, I wasn’t there.”

“You couldn’t of had known―”

“But I should’ve. I should’ve realized, Trev, and I am sorry I didn’t. You were there for me every time I was hurting, and when you were, I wasn’t.”

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

It’s a bad idea right?

Seeing you tonight

Fuck it, it’s fine

Then, the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, one of his hand cupping your cheek as your eyes grew wide. After a couple of seconds, the boy pulled back, his eyes focused on yours, and you waisted no time pulling him back in for another one.

Minutes later, your tongue met his in the middle, a small gasp leaving his mouth as you bit down on his lip. His other hand was now resting on your waist, holding you close, as one of your hand was holding onto the collar of his shirt tightly while the other was holding onto his neck. Then, both of his hands started making their way down to your thighs, softly rubbing them before picking you up and placing you on his lap, your lips never leaving each other’s.

Soon, his hands made their way back up your body, slipping under the shirt you were wearing, pulling you closer to him. Your mouths separated for split second and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt over his head, wasting no time to attack his necks with small kisses and love bites.

Groans slipped past Trevor’s mouth every time you bit down on the skin under his ear, and even more when you started moving your core over his. Your shit was next, joining his on the floor behind the couch, and this time he was the one to attack your chest. Your hips accelerating every time his mouth got closer and closer to your breasts and soon your bra joined the small pile of clothes.

“Trev!” You moaned as his lips attached around one of your nipples, pulling the hairs on the back of his neck as he did so, a loud groan echoing through his living room. Eventually, his lips left your body, your foreheads now leaning against the other’s, mouths inches apart, as you both grinded on each other, moans leaving both of your mouths. Then, you uttered the three words he had been dying to hear in since April.

“I need you.”

Yes, I know that he’s my ex

But can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend

The biggest lie I ever said

Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex

But can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend

I just tripped and fell into his bed

A grunt left your mouth as your back hit his mattress, his body soon leaning over yours as your lips attached, his hips meeting yours as you whined. You wanted nothing more in that moment than for his pants and underwear to disappear, as well as yours.

“So inpatient.” He mumbled as your lips parted, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Trev.” You whined, your hips leaving the comfort of the mattress to meet his, his smirk only growing even more. The forward waisted no time baring the both of your of your bottoms, creating a new pile of clothes, now in his bedroom instead of the living room.

As the morning hours rolled in, the two of you gave your everything to the other, your bodies, your wants, your heart. It was like you were back to last year, one of the happiest times of your life, spending each second that you could with the love of your life.

It was like April never happened, you had been stuck in time in March, the familiar sent of his cologne filling your nose as you feel asleep in his arms, your head tucked into his chest as his arms wrapped around your figure protectively, scared that you’d disappear and he’d lose all over again. In that moment, you felt true happiness in months, all the heartbreak and tears the boy had caused being forgotten by your undying love for him.

He was yours again, well at least for the night, but you didn’t want it to be just for tonight. You wanted him to be yours forever and always, you didn’t want to go back to how you were mere hours before, heartbroken and hung-up on the boy of your dreams. You had him right there, in your arms, and you weren’t ready to let go, not again. You lost him once, and you weren’t about to lose him twice.

At that moment, you decided that whatever happened when the two of you woke up, no matter how hard Trevor tried, or didn’t, to tell you to just forget it even happened, that it’d be best if the two of you didn’t see each other again, you weren’t gonna let him slip out of your grip without a fight like last time. You didn’t care if it took him days, or weeks to understand that there’s not other man you’d rather be with, having already decided that if you couldn’t have him, you were the spend the rest of your life alone. But, you needed him to understand that he was perfect for you, and that he was all you ever wanted.

Maybe he’ll never be yours again, but you’ll always be his.

Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex

Can’t two people reconnect?

My brain goes, “Ah”

Can’t hear my thoughts

“Morning!” The Zegras boy exclaimed as you walked into his living room the next morning, well almost afternoon. All he was wearing was a plain pair of grey sweatpants, his boxer peaking over his waistband slightly. You had allowed yourself to dig through his closet, finding the pair of sweatpants and hoodie that were yours for most of the relationship before leaving his bedroom.

“Hi.” You whispered as you sat down on his couch. The boy sent you a small smile before throwing one of his arm on the back of the couch, something he always did.

“I just ordered breakfast, got you the same always.”

“Thank you.” You responded, and then a silence settled between the two of you as a news channel played on the TV. “How’s your head?”

“Huh?”

“You… you looked like you drank a lot last night.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes focused on the TV as you felt his looking at you.

“‘M fine. Had a little headache when I woke up, but I took an advil.” He answered, his eyes still looking at you as you nodded. “This is the part where you tell me we need to talk, isn’t it?” He added after a couple of seconds, another nod coming from you. He had a feeling about what you were about to say, and it wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

He had spent the whole morning prepping himself mentally to not break down if the words “mistake” and “forgot” left your mouth, telling himself he couldn’t just believe you’d come back after how he ended things previously. One of his solutions was avoiding eye contact, so he looked at the same place as you did, straight ahead.

“I get, I get that opening up and talking about things like insecurities is hard, Trev. It’s scary, you think people will judge you or making fun of you, of use it against you, trust me I know how it feels, but when you’re in a relationship with someone, that’s the kind of you stuff you can’t just hid from them. Especially if it makes you want to break up with them. That’s what I am here for, I am a safe space, Trev, nothing you tell me about how you feel or how you think will ever make me see you differently.

I love everything about you, Trevor, every little flaws about you just make me love you even more than I already do. To me, you’re perfect, Trevor. Everything about you is perfect to me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, you’re the one for me, I know you are. And I get that hearing people say that you’re not good enough for me can be hard, but trust me when I saw, you’re perfect for me.” You stated.

His heart dropped as your words filled his ears, in a good way of course. You remembered, even though you were drunk, you still remembered his confession from the previous night. Just as he was about to say something, the doorbell rang and he quick to push himself off the couch, but before he could take a step, your hand gripped his. His head turned to look at you, only when his gaze met yours, tears were pooling in your eyes.

“Don’t runaway again, Trev, please.” You begged, your voice shaky and broken. You knew him, if he walked away right now, your conversation would never continue, he’d come back in the living room and pretend that it never happened, he’d runaway from it instead of facing it, just like he did last time. He hesitated for a bit, your eyes staying locked together, before he nodded slightly and sat back down.

“It hurts. When people say all those things about me not being good enough for you, or that you could do so much better than me. I hate it.” He admitted, his eyes looking down at the floor, your hand still gripping his as you moved closer.

“Trev, look at me.” You said, and when his head didn’t move, you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were watering as he blinked repeatedly, trying to hold his tears in. “I don’t care what people say about us, you’re way more than enough for me, and yeah, maybe I could do better, but I don’t want better, I want you.”

“Maybe you could do better?” He questioned, a little confused as to why you would chose to say that to him.

“Someone that doesn’t have only three functioning brain cells.” You joked, making the boy laugh a little.

“You love it.”

“I do. I really do, Trevor. Everything about, all your flaws and everything, I love.” You spoke, your voice soft and low. Your hand that previously grabbed his chin now cupping his cheek, a soft smile appearing on his face.

“I am sorry.” He said as a tear fell from his eyes, which you were quick to wipe away before wrapping both your arms around his neck, his going around your waist as you held each other close.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love.” You whispered in his ear, only making his smile grow wider. In that moment, he realized that no matter issue he was dealing with, either from hockey or his personal life, you’d always be there for him, just like he always wanted to be there for you.

“Girlfriend?” He asked, making you pull your head away from his neck, but keeping your arms around him.

“Boyfriend.” You confirmed with a wide smile on your face, an identical ones plastered on Trevor’s face before the two of you leaned in and your lips locked together. Unlike all your kissed from the previous night, this one was slow and full of love. It wasn’t a quick, rushed and hungry one, no, it was one that only true lovers shared.

Thoughts

Blah

Thoughts

Blah

To say your mom was excited when you told her the news that you and Trevor were back together would be an understatement. A loud squeal came from the speaker of your phone, making you pull your phone away from your ear quickly as Trevor sent you a weird look. Before you even had time to say anything else to her, she hung out, claiming she had to go tell the good news to your father.

As for your friends, they were a little iffy about the situation, scared that the boy would break your heart once again, but eventually, they came around, realizing how in love the two of you were.

Trevor no longer ran away from his insecurities, now confronting them and talking about them with you, something you were extremely grateful for. All of his friends were over the moon when they heard that you were back together, tired of always hearing the Zegras boy mop over you.

As for you, you were the happiest you had ever been, everyday Trevor made sure to tell and show how much he loves and appreciates you, spoiling you with hugs and kisses.

Your life was perfect again.

#bri writes #trevor zegras #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras angst #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras imagines #guts series

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bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

In The Way I Need You | Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay tries to make amends with you, and you become even closer with joey.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Clay tried to bathe Joey as quickly as he could, because he knew you could walk out at any second. He wouldn’t be surprised if you skipped out on your payment again tonight and left while he was getting Joey ready for bed. He wouldn’t even blame you.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he said softly as he kissed Joey’s forehead. “I love you.”

He was asleep before Clay even left the room, making him tug off his tie with shaky fingers as he quickly headed towards the stairs.

God, he hoped you stayed. You didn’t say you would, but you also didn’t leave right away like he was sure you were going to. That was a good sign, right?

When he descended the stairs and saw you still sitting on the couch, he let out a sigh of relief before entering the room and moving to sit next to you, making sure to leave some space between you. “I’m happy you stayed,”

You trace the tip of your tongue along the backs of your upper teeth, and Clay struggled to keep his eyes locked on yours as you say, “I thought about leaving as soon as you went upstairs,”

Your confession, though it was one he expected, still had him feeling awful about what he did and said about you. “I’m really sorry,” he started. “I didn’t mean those things I said about you to my mother. It’s just…she’s..” He wasn’t sure where he was trying to go with this, and you clearly weren’t in the mood for excuses as you huffed and reached for your bag again.

“I get it. You don’t want your mom finding out you kissed the babysitter because she probably thinks of me as just a kid. Maybe you both do,” you mumbled and stood up. “Let’s just both be professional until I can find another job.”

Clay’s eyes widened at that as he stood up quickly, too. “What? You’re looking for another job?” When you nod at him, he asks, “Why?”

You laugh and place your bag onto your shoulder again. “I obviously can’t keep working for you since we went way over the professional aspect of our relationship. And you think I’m just some immature kid,” you bitterly recall the conversation he had with his mom yesterday. “I’m twenty, so nothing can happen between us, right?”

Clay closed his eyes tightly at the reminder of all the lies he said in order to get his mother off his case. He didn’t mean any of it, he just needed to say something that would give him time to think things through, and he knew now that he did want you. He knew that before, he just didn’t know what to do about it. “No,” he answered and you squint your eyes at him. “I like you, Y/n. I have since the minute I met you.”

You look away from him quickly and cross your arms. “We don’t know anything about each other, Clay,” you point out, but he was just happy you didn’t call him Mr. Beresford again.

“I want to know everything about you,” he said and watched with guilty eyes as you tense up a bit in a way to guard yourself from him. He hated it, but he understood why you were so hesitant around him right now.

When you finally meet his gaze, you sigh, “Clay,”

“I mean it,” he promised and sat back down again. He looked up at you as things were completely in your control at the moment, and you both knew it. “You’re not a kid, and I don’t think you’re immature. You’re actually one of the most mature people I’ve ever met.”

You drop your arms to your sides as you ask, “Then why did you say all of that stuff to your mom about me? And don’t give me some dumb excuse, or else I’ll leave right now,”

Clay nodded quickly, “My mother has always been really protective over me and who I give my heart to since it hasn’t worked properly for most of my life. When I met Joey’s mom, I didn’t think things through and I rushed that relationship, leaving me a single dad before I even reached my thirties,”

Your hard gaze softens and you sit down next to him again, unknowingly giving him more confidence to continue his embarrassing backstory.

“She tried to warn me about marrying her and starting a life with her since she was so sure Sam just wanted me for money. Then she got pregnant and stayed with me for about twelve more months after that and then I never saw her again,” he hated talking about Sam since the signs were so clearly there, he just never realized them until it was too late. It made him feel like an idiot for ever thinking she truly loved him. “I was depressed for months after and I had to take care of Joey by myself for the most part. My mom had to watch me spiral for a long time before I finally realized that Sam wasn’t coming back. I know she doesn’t want me to go back to how I was when Sam left me. She’s more protective over my heart than I am, but you already knew that since she told you about my condition less than an hour after meeting you.”

A small, barely-there smile forms on your lips before you look away and play with the bracelet on your wrist. “I know she’s protective over you, Clay,” you agree. “But that doesn’t explain why you said all that stuff about me. You sounded so serious when you said that us falling asleep together will never happen again and that nothing is going on between us when I thought there was.”

“There is,” he stated firmly, glancing down when he felt your knee brush against his. “There is something between us. I only said there wasn’t because I don’t want to have my mother be so invested in another relationship of mine. Maybe she was right about the first one, but I know what I want now. It’s you.”

Clay watches as a blush forms on your face before you break eye contact again. “How am I supposed to believe you?” You ask and Clay thinks about it for a second before he gets up, making you glance over at him.

“Stay here,” he requested, waiting until you gave him a confused nod before going back upstairs and walking straight to his nightstand. He grabbed the sticky note you had left for him the first night you babysat Joey before quickly heading back down. When he walked back into the living room, he saw how your pretty eyes gazed up at him in interest as he sat next to you again. “Here.”

He holds out the note and watches as realization takes over your features and how your lips curve up into a smile. “For the coolest kid’s dad,” you read the note after taking it from him, holding it as if it was the most fragile letter you’ve ever read. “You kept it.”

“It’s been stuck to my alarm clock since the first night you watched Joey,” he said and was powerless to fight the grin that formed on his lips when you turned your head to look over at him.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” you murmur in disbelief.

Clay had initially felt dumb for keeping it, since it was just a simple note you left him alongside the dinner you set aside for him, but the look you were giving him right now had him feeling nothing short of amazing. He was glad he went back for it after he threw it away when he came to the realization that he was into you. “Well, it meant a lot to me at the time,” he shrugged. “Means a lot to me now. And so do you.”

Your eyes stared into his as if you were trying to figure out if he was being truthful or not. He knew he was, and so did you as after you set the note aside, you take his hand in your smaller one and give him a conflicted smile. “Okay, so I guess I believe you,”

Clay laughed and ran this thumb along your knuckles. “Good, because I have and will always take you and us seriously,”

Your smile grows as you ask, “So we’re doing this?”

He laces his fingers with yours and nods. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed and leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him. You snuggle against his side and rest your head on his chest as your fingers play with his. “And I mean it, I want to know everything about you.”

You smile up at him. “Like what?”

Clay shrugged, “I don’t know, anything. What’s your favorite food? Color? What pet did you have growing up?”

Laughing loudly, you turn and pull your hand out of his so you can drape his arm around your shoulders instead. “Wow, those questions are very personal,” you tease as you tangle your fingers with his again. “Food…probably pizza, shocker, I know. Color, blue. And my parents never let me get a pet when I was a kid. Unless you count a fish I won at a fair I went to with my friend and her family that my mom flushed as soon as I walked through the door.”

Clay raised his brows as he tried to hold back a smile. “Wow, uh,” he trailed off. “Poor fish?”

You shake your head, “Poor fish,”

Clay kind of wanted to ask you about your family, but from what he already knew about them, you’re not close anymore. They were the reason you moved to Brooklyn by yourself, and were the reason you had to fend for yourself for most of your life.

He’ll let you tell him more about them if and when you’re ready to.

The time passed by quickly after that, and just as you lean up to kiss him, the front door opens and closes, and Clay sighs as he hears his mother’s footsteps ascend the stairs.

You stand up quickly and grab your bag again as you move a few feet away. Lilith enters the living room a few seconds later and looks between the two of you with an unreadable expression, and her brows raise as Clay stands up as well. “Hi, Mrs. Beresford,” you greet her with a small smile, and Clay was grateful for the fact that you didn’t force him to announce that you and he are…together? Is that what you were? Unofficially, of course, but you knew you wanted each other, and that was enough for now.

Fuck, he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet.

That will be next on his to do list.

“Hello, Y/n,” she says back and looks over at Clay. “Have you been home long, sweetheart?”

He knew what she was doing. She was trying to see if you and him had been talking for long before she got home, and he refused to give in and prove her right. “No, only a few minutes,”

He’d been home for well over an hour now, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” you add and step around her. “I got an early morning tomorrow.”

Lilith nodded as Clay moved to stand next to you after discreetly grabbing the sticky note and putting it in his pocket. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered and watched as you fought off a smile all the way down to the front door. “So…early morning tomorrow? Is that true or are you secretly a really good liar?”

You reach the bottom of the stairs and turn to him with a tight smile. “It’s actually true,” you tell him and he notices that you weren’t smiling like you were a minute ago. You looked nervous as you added, “I have a job interview tomorrow.”

That wiped Clay’s smile off his own face as he stepped closer to you. “Oh,”

“I can cancel it,” you quickly say but he shakes his head.

“No, you don’t have to,” he said back, taking your hands in his. “I want you to keep babysitting, but I also don’t want you to feel weird about me paying you now that we’re…you know.”

“Oh, you can’t pay me anymore, Clay,” you inform him. “I refuse to receive payments from the guy I’m seeing, or…whatever.”

Clay laughed, “Okay, so…go to that interview then,”

You tug on his hands a bit as you walk backwards towards the door. “I’ll miss you and Joey too much if I get a new job, though,”

Clay hummed, the smile returning to his lip at your words. “Okay….well, I can usually handle the kid just fine on my own in the mornings, so maybe you can ask for the day shift? Then you can hang out with Joey after. Or maybe find a weekend job? Eitherway, Joey and I would miss you, too, if we didn’t get to see you as often as we do now.”

You smile your pretty smile up at him before you both lean in and close the distance. Clay’s hands grip onto either side of your face while yours trail up his back before gripping his neck and pulling him closer to you. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the small noise you made as he pressed you against the door, and he knew he would be playing it on repeat until he saw you again.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull away but keep your face close to his. “I should go,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his with every word. “Your mom might get suspicious.”

Clay nods, pressing another deep kiss to your lips before pulling away and opening the door for you.

“I’ll wait, Clay,” you say quietly as you step out onto the stone steps. “I know you’re not ready to tell your mom, and maybe it’s too early to say this, but I’ll wait until you are.”

Clay gives you a grateful smile before stepping forward and kissing you one last time. “Text me when you get home,” he requested and you nod, giving him a wave as you step out onto the dark street.

You had a dumb smile on your face the whole way back home, and you knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon

Clay liked you back. He wanted to be with you in the way you want to be with him. You were sure you’re dreaming, and you didn’t want to wake up any time soon.

You were feeling giddy as you set your bag down onto your bed before sitting next to it and pulling out your phone.

I’m home and haven’t been able to stop smiling yet.

Clay Beresford: That makes two of us. I’ll see you tomorrow?

Definitely. I only like you for your cute kid, anyway.

Clay Beresford: I understand, but that still hurts. Goodnight, pretty girl.

You blush at the text and set your phone aside before getting up and heading over to your laptop. You knew now that you didn’t want to get a job that prevented you from babysitting Joey, even if you refused to be paid for it since you were…with Clay? Were you with Clay now? You didn’t even know.

All you knew was that you liked him. A lot. And you liked his son, and you wanted to keep babysitting him when he got home from school.

You pull up the job offer you responded to and read over the information posted with it. It was a simple cafe job and it had paid training if you get selected for it, and it also had a pretty relaxed schedule. The morning shift and evening shifts were hiring, as well as the weekend shifts.

The morning shift started at seven and went until one in the afternoon, so you’d still be able to pick Joey up from school if you were to get the job. You just wouldn’t have a lot of freetime, but it’s not like you did a whole lot anyway. You were pretty much alone since you moved away from your family and the few friends you kept after graduating high school.

It would be a great distraction from all of it.

Deciding against canceling your interview for the following morning, you close your laptop again and get ready for bed, a permanent smile stuck on your lips. After completing your night routine, you go back to your bag and take out Joey’s drawing. Placing it on the fridge, you admire the picture for a few seconds before heading back to your room.

The next morning you were a bit late waking up, leading you to quickly throw on a pair of light jeans and a white tee before grabbing your converse and fleeing your apartment.

The coffee shop was a few blocks down from your place, so you decided to save money on a cab fare and walk. You were a bit nervous as you sat down and waited for the owner, whose name was Jess, to come out. Your leg was bouncing under the table as you watched the customers come and go, and one looked a bit familiar as she waited for her coffee. You don’t think you have ever seen her before, but something about her seemed….familiar for some reason.

She had light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and when she looked over and smiled at you, you saw that she had perfectly straight white teeth. You felt a bit insecure just looking at her, so you returned the smile before quickly looking away just as Jess sat down across from you.

Jess had strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded you of both Clay and Joey’s, and she looked to be around your age, if not a few years older. As the interview went on, you learned that she had a similar backstory as you did, with her leaving her family home at the age of nineteen and opening up her own coffee shop. She used up all the money she’d been saving since she was fourteen and nearly lost it all until the cafe was given a great review that ended up saving her and allowing it to be her official source of income.

She was really nice and you bonded with her well. You hoped you got the job, but if not, you’d definitely visit and support her business anyway.

Once the interview was over, you had an hour or so before you had to go pick Joey up from school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see both him and Clay. Things were okay again, and even though you couldn’t do anything with Clay in front of his mom right now, you were still looking forward to seeing him once he got home from work.

While you still didn’t fully understand his situation with his ex and mom, you would keep quiet about it until he felt ready enough to further explain it to you.

You spent your time going to the nearest grocery store and picking up stuff to make tacos with, wanting to give Joey a bit of a different dinner tonight. After passing by the candy aisle, you think it over for a few seconds before pulling out your phone.

For no specific reason, does Joey like candy? If so, what kind? Once again, for no specific reason at all.

You weren’t expecting him to get back to you so quickly as you browse through possible options, planning on going for the healthiest unhealthy option if he wasn’t able to get back to you for a while.

Clay Beresford: He’s four. Of course he likes candy. Any kind. If you’re planning on getting him some, be prepared for me to pay you back.

You roll your eyes as you grab some Starbursts and Fun Dip before typing with one hand as you put the items onto the counter.

Don’t be such a dad. I’m not taking your money ever again.

Clay Beresford: The dad life chose me. Did you go to that interview? I meant to wish you luck earlier.

You smile at the lady behind the counter as she hands you back a plastic bag before leaving the store and starting the somewhat short walk to Clay’s house.

Yeah, I did. I appreciate it, but your luck wasn’t needed. Pretty sure I was the best candidate she’s had all week.

Clay Beresford: That’s good…so can Joe and I expect to lose you soon?

You smile at that as you cross the street, the same dumb grin from last night coming back in full swing.

Hopefully not…like I said, I’d miss you too much. Both of you.

Clay Beresford: Hopefully we won’t have to miss you, too.

You assume he went back to work after that as he didn’t reply to your teasing remark, leaving you to pocket your phone as you waited for the time to go by so you could pick Joey up from school.

An hour passes, and you are currently sitting at the kitchen table beside Joey. He was still telling you all about his day, and when you opened his backpack, you pulled out a few more drawings. One was of him and Clay, another was what you think is a dog and him hinting at something, and the last one was of you and him.

You hung all of them on the fridge before getting him a snack, which was a simple celery and cheese dip. It felt like no matter how much this kid ate, he was always hungry and didn’t gain a single pound.

You were in the middle of coloring in a flower when Joey suddenly says, “I wish I had a mom,”

The crayon fell from your fingers as you gazed up at him in surprise. He continued coloring in the lion you had drawn for him, seeming to not realize just how heartbreaking his words actually were. “What?” You couldn’t help but ask, grabbing the crayon again before it could roll off the table.

“All my friends have a mom,” he answered, looking up at you when he noticed that you had stopped coloring. “They make fun of me for not having one.”

Your brows furrow at that and suddenly you were mad at a bunch of four year olds. “Well, maybe they’re not your real friends if they make fun of you,” you offered and tried to go back to your flower, but you were beginning to feel sad for the poor kid beside you. “And you have your grandma, and your dad. They love you so much, Joey, you don’t really need a mom when you have them.” You weren’t sure if you should be saying that, but you didn’t know what else you could say.

Joey shrugged, handing you the orange crayon in exchange for the yellow one you were holding. “And you,” he said and you felt tears prick your eyes. You were sure Joey would be the cause of many of your tears since his story was a sad one, and you wished you could do something more for him but weren’t sure how.

“Yeah,” you whisper, reaching over and brushing his hair out of his face with a forced smile. “You have me, too.”

You watched him color for a bit after that before forcing yourself to get up and cook the beef for tacos. One messy dinner later, you send Joey off to the living room with the pack of Starbursts as you clean the kitchen. Tears were still burning your eyes as you heard the faint sound of the front door opening and closing, and it only got worse when you heard the sound of Joey laughing and Clay’s muffled voice from down the hall.

You were washing the plates when he entered the dining room and crossed over to the kitchen. “Hey,” he says quietly, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “How was your day?”

He leans in to brush his lips against your temple, and you hold back the sob that wanted to leave your mouth as you straighten up against his chest. “It was good,” you answered, and even you could hear the waver in your voice. Clay stiffens and you sigh as you turn your head away. “I’m sorry.”

Clay shakes his head and gently turns your body so you’re facing him. His gaze softens at the tears gathered in your eyes and he reaches one hand up to caress the side of your face, the other one reaching around you to turn the water off. “What’s wrong?”

You avoid eye contact as you shrug, pressing the heels of your hand against your eyes. “I feel like an idiot right now, Clay,” you mumble, laughing pathetically after.

He furrows his brows and gently grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, turning your head so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Talk to me,” he softly demanded. “What happened?”

You give him a strained sigh as you shake your head. “I just can’t believe that your bitch of an ex-wife left you and Joey. He’s so sweet and kind and….he’s a kid, Clay. How could she do that to him? To you?”

Clay gave you a small smile before leaning in and pressing a chaste but passionate kiss to your lips. “What brought this on?” He hummed when he pulled away and ran his hand up your back before tugging your body against his.

You rest your head against his chest and bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands. “Joey told me how much he wishes he had a mom and how the kids at school tease him for it,” you mumble. “I don’t know, it made me upset. And I probably shouldn’t be this upset, but I can’t help it. It’s not fair.”

Clay hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love that you’re upset about it. Means you care,” he murmured. “And you’re right, it’s not fair, but trust me when I say that we’re all better off without her, especially Joey.”

You give him a sad smile. “Still…I just wish there was more I could do for him….for all of you,”

Clay shook his head, leaning down to press another his to your temple. “You do so much for us already,” he assured you, leaning back against the counter and letting you settle between his arms and legs. “And Joey adores you. He gets so excited whenever I tell him that you’ll be the one picking him up from school and hanging out with him until I get home. You’ve made a big impact on him, baby, on all of us.”

You smile again, a blush forming on your face as you take in his words. “Thanks,” you whisper, then you realize that he just called you baby, and now you’re flustered all over again but for an entirely different reason.

He responds by kissing your forehead again. “I want to take you out,” he says and you raise your brows.

“Like…on a date?”

“Yeah,” he grins down at you. “On a date. I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we both need a break from this house. Maybe I can show you around the city? Since you’re so good at reading directions.”

“Hey,” you laugh and lightly slap his shoulder. “My inability to read directions is what led us to meeting. So, really, you should be glad that I rarely know where I’m going half the time.”

Clay laughed, too, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Believe me,” he murmured against your mouth. “I’m glad.”

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