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atinylittlepain · 10 months

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I'm On Fire

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut right out of the starting blocks, young joel is a goddamn menace, a little angst as well

wordcount | 8.5K

a/n | thank you all for reading this series, i really loved writing this part and i hope y'all enjoy - as always, drop me a line and tell me what you think. oh also, obviously you should listen to I'm On Fire while reading this. But, if I could offer a non-Bruce song (blasphemy, I know) for your listening-while-reading pleasure, it would be Fruits of My Labor by Lucinda Williams, it is so goddamn Cherry-coded. Okay, that's all, thank you for reading.

(gif by @santigarcia)

......................................

“Hmm.”

“Cher.” His lips against the bare wing of her shoulder blade, his fingers curling around the sheet to pull it down over her ass, his palm stopping on the curve before slipping up and along the slope of her spine, all the way to the nape of her neck.

“Hmm?” His lips right at the shell of her ear, the whole heat of him draped over her prone body. She can already feel his cock smearing pearled pleasure against her low back.

“We gotta get up.” A kiss to the side of her neck, just under her jaw. She still doesn’t move, keeping her nose buried in his pillow and breathing so deeply it’s just him in her lungs. Sweat and salt and him.

“No we don’t.” His nose skates down the center of her spine, the loss of his presence making her shiver under the weak breeze of the box fan in his window, still morning, still cool before the heat starts to creep in.

“It’s Sunday.” He coaxes her legs apart, completely limp in his hands, so he can settle between them, his palms finding her hips and hitching them up in the air ever so slightly.

“Amen.” His laugh washes over her, still wet, still tender from last night, now spread open for him.

“We gotta get to church.” A kiss to where her thigh meets the crease of her ass, one on each side before his palms spread her open even more, her whole body clenching in anticipation.

“I’m not going.” She tries to keep her voice steady when he noses through her swollen cunt, lips finding her clit in a soft suckle, but her words come out a bit breathless anyways, her face still pressed into his pillow.

“No? Not going?” He speaks with his mouth still so close that she can feel the low thrum of it in her pelvis, resisting the urge to buck her hips back to seek out more of that burn.

“Nope.” He does it again, letting his jaw go slack and putting the open heat of his mouth flat over her cunt, tongue dragging heavy and straight through her. She wonders if he can taste himself, still slipping out of her, still a bit sore, so she blindly reaches back, finding the crown of his head and tugging. A low mumble, need it gentle, need it slow, because we weren’t either of those things last night.

“We have to go, Cherry. People will talk.” His palm wide over her ass, he uses his thumb to keep her spread for him, dipping his tongue into her clenching hole, kissing it better. Always aching, always dripping, always so blisteringly ready for him. She starts to hum into his pillow.

“Don’t care.” She cries out when he slips two fingers inside her, too much, tears with how too much it is, though she still rocks back against his hand when he slowly pumps deeper.

“Tough girl doesn’t care, huh?” She’s starting to sweat, spit pooling under her tongue, open mouthed and dripping onto his pillow in a silent whine when he crooks his fingers against that spot, that spot he likes to tease and toy with so much, that spot that would’ve had her leg kicking out behind her if his other hand didn’t have a firm grip around her thigh to keep her on her knees, her hips up high and quivering.

“None of them matter.” He works her until she’s starting to twitch with it, broken little sounds in the back of her throat that turn into a dejected sigh when he pulls away, leaving his hand on the small of her back, the slick coating his fingers cooling and sticking against her skin.

“That right?” Not gone for long, she preens when she feels the thick heat of his cock slip through her aching cunt, her spine stretching out long and languid, a perfect arc that he curls over as he splits her open. It hurts, good hurt, stretching hurt, her eyes scrunching shut, so sensitive still. He shushes her groans, pressing his lips to her temple, coaxing her face to turn and seek out his in a kiss that tastes like herself, her eyes still closed tight.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t really pull out, just ruts his hips deeper and deeper against the curve of her ass and it’s so much, so early, all she can do is take it, slack and simmering at the same time.

“Do I matter, Cher?” One hand pressed against her belly, palm splayed out over softness, the other wrapping around her torso, palming the weight of her breast as he hoists her up against his chest, limbless and keening in his grip, her head falling back on his shoulder.

“So much.” He holds her, suspended, strung and taut in his hands as he fucks up into her, his nose dragging along the line of her jaw.

“So much?” It’s all she can do to reach her hand back and grip his ass, that tight clench of muscle as he grinds his hips against hers. His hand that had been clutching her breast drags up to rest over the front of her throat, thumb and forefinger framing her jaw to tilt her head toward him, a silent ask that she obliges, her eyes finally slipping open to look at him.

“The most.” Good morning, what a sight. His hair sticking up all which ways, sleep still heavy and dark around his eyes, his lips parted and shiny with her and the quick pink of his tongue. His fingers pinch at her jaw, opening her up for him to lick into her mouth. He mouths at her like he’s trying to swallow up the high little cries he keeps punching out of her with the way he’s keeping her so full of him, throbbing and dripping down her thighs. And it still hurts, still fucked out, raw and red and reeling, but this is all she wants lately, to have him so deep that she knows she’ll be thinking about him for the rest of the day.

“Just want one, Cher. Then we gotta– fuck– gotta get to church because we-we’re both going to hell at this rate.” That makes her laugh into his mouth, Joel cursing low when her cunt clenches around him, a brutal drag.

“You and me, baby.” She knows exactly what she’s doing by saying that, that little word that seems to make his brain fry. She saves it, rations it, only letting it slip up her throat on spare occasions so he doesn’t get too accustomed to it, so he still reacts like he does now, his eyes scrunching shut, pained pleasure, and his hips snapping against her ass a little harder. His hand slips a little lower from where it was splayed against her stomach, finding her clit in a greedy swirl. And it isn’t long before her spine is stringing so tight that the stick of her skin pulls away from his chest, a sharp gasp of his name before everything turns liquid.

Even as he continues to fuck into her, he’s gentle, so gentle guiding her down in her slump back onto her stomach, holding her hips up with his hands curled around her waist. His warmth starts to spread inside her with a quiet groan, hips close and jolting against her, his face pressed between her shoulder blades before he slackens on top of her entirely. She likes the weight of him, the whole body press down into his mattress, pushed and pulled by his breath battering against hers in their ribs. Always missing it when he presses his palms into the mattress to lift his torso up and off of her, still inside her, starting to soften and spill. He traces a finger from the side of her cheekbone along the curve of her ear, a silent ask that makes her turn her face to the side so he can dip down and find her mouth with his.

“For the record, I don’t wanna go either.” Another kiss, just a quick, smacking thing before he rolls over beside her, flopping down onto his back and dragging his hand through his muss of hair.

“I know.” She props up on her elbow, her cheek in her hand so she can look at him, reaching out because she can, letting her thumb slide gently beneath his lashes because she can, his cheek rounding under her ministrations.

“Ma would throttle me if I didn’t.” He tilts his chin up, lips to the pad of her thumb, and then teeth just to get a laugh out of her.

“I know.” Said on a long sigh as she finally turns over and sits up in bed, Joel’s palm immediately finding her spine, running the length of it, fingers curling over her shoulder at the top before slipping back down.

“And your parents, well.” He doesn’t finish the thought, well coming out long and low on an exhale. She silently thanks him for not finishing the thought, looking at him over her shoulder, small smile before she gets out of bed, his eyes trailing her bare body as she shuffles around the room, the remnants of him already starting to slick down her thighs. His hands are crossed behind his head, young muscles tensing in his arms, suddenly seemingly content to stay splayed in bed while she puts on the dress she had packed last night for church. Her parents think that she’s sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house. She’s been sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house a lot lately.

“C’mere, Cherry baby.” She ignores him, padding into his bathroom and running her fingers back through her hair a few times, good enough. Joel has turned over onto his side to watch, a low rasp of singing that she has to roll her eyes at.

Cherryyyyyy, cherry baby

Mmm, you look so fine

I’m gonna make you miiiine

“That’s not even how the lyrics go.”

“No?”

“No.” She knows that she’ll break if she actually looks at him, so she keeps her eyes pointedly focused on slipping the kitten heels her mother insisted on getting her for church onto her feet while Joel huffs at her cold shoulder.

“Come teach them to me then, Cherry baby.” She finally breaks, and of course he’s smiling, his dimple deep and endearing and annoying.

“Joel, get up. You’re the one that was so worried about being late to church.” He scoffs, slumping back down into the sheets with all the drama of a swooning maiden. She’s going to have to use a different tactic.

“I’ll do that thing you like so much later if you get dressed right now.” His whole torso shoots back up at that, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Today?”

“This afternoon, yeah, after we atone for our sins.” He’s already up and stumbling into the bathroom, his bare ass giving her quite the show.

They drive separate, of course, and they’re both still ten minutes late to church.

…

She’s on the phone when she answers the door, her eyes lighting up, big smile even as she keeps talking, tilting her chin to welcome him into the front hallway.

“Well, I don’t have twenty thousand more words for you yet, and since when are we on some insane time crunch anyways?” He can’t help smiling watching her, pacing a little back and forth, a deep pull to her brow as she fires off sharp words down the line.

“Look, I can’t tell you when it’s going to be done, you know I don’t work like that.” She holds up her finger to him, mouthing one minute. He nods, staying right where he is as she pads further into the house, still muttering into her phone. His eyes start to wander, looking into what must be the living room off to his right, awash in full light from the large windows in the front. To his left is a staircase, pictures already hanging along the hall opposite it. Mostly of her and Ellie, one sending a particular pang though his chest. It’s her holding what must have been Ellie as a toddler, all bundled up, her tiny cheek pressed against Cherry’s, rounded with smiles. They’re standing in front of a huge Christmas tree, that one they put up every year in New York, he recognizes. Cherry couldn’t be more than twenty-four, maybe twenty-five in the picture, still so young.

“What’re you doing here?” He whips around to see Ellie coming down the stairs, death glare in fine form this morning as she comes to stand in front of him with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed.

“I’m gonna be fixing the porch.”

“That better be all you’re fixing, old man.” Absolutely no clue how to respond to that, and luckily he doesn’t need to because Cherry is coming back down the hall, no phone in hand this time.

“Hey, babe, carpool is gonna be here soon, have you had something to eat yet?” He feels like he shouldn’t get to see this, their quiet rush of a morning routine, Cherry already flitting away into what he assumes is the kitchen as Ellie groans that she isn’t hungry this early, Cherry back just as quick with a banana and a just humor me, please when she hands it to the kid. And then the phone rings again and Cherry groans, quick kiss to Ellie’s forehead which she scoffs and squirms out from under as Cherry darts back down the hall to pick up whoever is calling. Ellie meanwhile shoulders on a backpack and opens the front door, but not without turning around to shoot Joel one more look.

“I’m watching you, old man. Even when I’m not, I am.” She points a sharp finger at him, though he has no time to respond to that either, Ellie shouting a quick love you, mom down the hall which is easily answered by Cherry’s love you, babe, have fun before the kid is out the door with a hard slam. Joel already feels exhausted, and he’s only been here for all of five minutes.

He decides that it’s okay to shuffle a little further into the house, following the sound of Cherry’s voice, still rattling off rapid fire to whoever she’s talking to on the phone. He hovers just in the doorway of what he assumes must be her office, sparsely furnished, just a desk with one of those fancy new Apple desktops on it and a slew of pens and notebooks surrounding it. Still a tall stack of boxes in one corner, though there’s already a shelf built and packed with books along the wall.

“No, no, no, we tried to get her to do the cover art for the last one, and it was a complete fucking mess. I don’t– why are we even talking about this? The book is nowhere near finished yet– this is actually ridiculous. You know what the best thing you could do for me right now is? Leave me alone so maybe I can actually get some work done. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” He winces at how hard she shuts her cell phone. But when she turns around to look at him, the scowl on her face melts into more of a resigned grimace.

“Sorry about that.”

“If it’s a bad time, Cher, I can come back another day.” She’s breezing right past him, always at a clipped pace it seems, and all he can think is that he should probably be following behind her and into the kitchen, so he does, albeit a little tentatively, not wanting to disrupt whatever warpath she seems to be on.

“No, it’s a perfect time, I swear, I will throw my phone in the garbage disposal if anyone else calls me.” She has a hand held up, as if she’s trying to remember something and pointing one finger into the air will help, her eyes scrunched shut. Honestly, she looks completely fritzed, taking a few steps toward the refrigerator, then seeming to change her mind and walk back over to him where he’s standing in the doorway.

“Right, the porch, sorry, let me just get my brain out of my editor’s ass and–” He cuts her off with a hand on her bicep, easy, friendly. He can do friendly.

“Cher, really, it’s okay, I have all day.” She finally seems to take a breath that makes it past her throat, that frantic tilt in her eyes already starting to smooth.

“Is Sarah’s team doing the whole bonding thing today too?” He nods, sharing a quick smile with her, and then remembering that no, not friendly to just keep his hand on her bicep and no, there is no non-awkward way to retract his hand, though he does his best.

“So the porch, what am I working with here?” She leads him out to the backdoor and he finds that he’s working with exactly what she described. The planks are all rotten, pock-marked and fraying, a complete hazard. He doesn’t even try to walk on it, it's that bad.

“Well, what do you think?” She says it with the corner of her thumbnail worrying between her teeth, leaning in the doorframe beside him.

“I think you’re gonna need a whole new porch, Cher. Just looking at it, I can tell you right now that none of this is safe to salvage.”

“That sounds expensive.” Not for you, he’d like to say. Not anything for you. But he can’t say that because then she’d never let him do it in the first place.

“Nah, it’s easy stuff. Maybe a few days, but really, not major at all.” Her eyes scan out over the porch, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“How much do you think, altogether?”

“Uh, well–”

“Joel, no.”

“What no?”

“No, I know what you’re doing, and I’m not gonna let you undersell your work just because it’s me.”

“Friends and family discount, Cher.” There is no friends and family discount. His uncle asked them to build a new addition to his house last year and the Miller brothers were happy to charge him full price, just good business.

“I want you to tell me how much it would be if I was just some random person that hired you.” If it gets her to drop it, he’ll indulge it, he’ll just leave out the fact that he’s never going to accept a single dime of it.

“Well there’s the cost of materials and labor to consider. I could probably get this done over three or four days. You’d be looking at anywhere from four to maybe six thousand dollars.” She nods, working her jaw as she squints out at the porch again before finally holding her hand out to him, though it takes him a beat to realize that she’s looking for a shake.

“Alright, sounds like a deal. And I will be paying full price, just so you know. I’ll send the check to Tommy if I have to.” He’s still holding her hand in a ridiculous shake, nodding along even though he’d throttle Tommy if she really did that.

“Whatever you say, Cher. So am I good to go ahead and get to work out there?”

“Yes, yeah, absolutely, it’s all yours to have at it–” She’s cut off by the sound of her phone ringing in the other room, her whole face scrunching up at the sound.

“Sorry, I just– well, you know your way around the house, right?” She’s already shuffling down the hall toward her office.

“Yeah, I think I can manage, don’t worry about it, Cher.” Her phone is still ringing as she leans out of the doorway of her office, smiling at him, all apologetic.

“Thank you, so fucking much. If you need anything I will most likely be in here for the rest of the day.” She slams the door behind her, and he figures that’s where Ellie gets it from.

…

She almost didn’t return to the auto shop, wan and worn out from what being ten minutes late to church got her, a sharp look from her mother when she slid into the pew next to her, the least of hers worries when she got home after the service. Her parents, so hell-bent on everything being prim and perfect and in its right place, and god forbid anything ever be not that. Nothing prim and perfect about it, really.

She parks at the back of the shop, her usual spot, a quick swipe of her knuckles under both of her eyes, sniff, a bit stiff. She can’t believe that after all this time, this stuff still manages to make her cry. She wishes that it didn’t.

He’s finishing up for the day. She always comes around just when he’s punching out, hovering around the front office, usually a little giddy with it. But tonight she only feels a tired anticipation, trying to get herself ready to be okay for him, when really all she wants is to lay down and be very still for a few hours. She can’t do that though, because he’s there, covered in grease with his ball cap hanging out of the backpocket of his coveralls, all smiles when he sees her through the window of the front office looking in on the garage, laughing and getting ribbed by the other men he works with when he sends her a little wave. She waves back, trying to make a smile happen, though she sees that it looks more like a wince in the reflection of the window. But then he’s really there, coming through the front office, keeping his hands to himself when he smacks a quick kiss to her cheek on his way to the sink to wash up, his neck craned to look at her even as he does. And he’s singing again, and she doesn’t know why, but it’s making her throat curl up tight and hot with tears all over.

Cherryyyyy, cherry baby

Cherryyyy, can you come out tonight

She blinks hard to hold back the salt, trying to make another smile happen as he walks over to her, taking her bag from her shoulder into his hand. And she knows he knows that something isn’t quite right, his brows falling, a barely there question that she’s grateful he doesn’t ask, tugging on her hand to lead her up the back stairs to his apartment above the shop.

“Just gonna get a quick shower, but then I’m all yours.” A small kiss to her lips, she just nods, worried that her voice will give her away, so quick to fall apart under his gaze. While he cleans up in the bathroom, she sits down on the edge of his bed, steepling her hands along her temples, her elbows resting on her knees. It’s a small thing of an apartment, one room, a bed in one corner, and what could be called a kitchen in the other, counter and refrigerator and an ancient looking stove. A small table with two chairs tucked into another corner, and a dresser she knows came directly from his childhood bedroom in the other. The simplicity is soothing to the dull throb settling under her skull.

The shower squeaks off and she hates that she takes a deep breath as if to brace herself for his presence again. He’s quiet padding out of the bathroom, she only feels the slight dip of the mattress as he crawls up behind her, the smell of that irish spring soap he uses washing heady and heavy over her mind when he presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder.

“What’s going on, Cher?” It always shocks her, how quiet he can get, usually all brass and brash, and it certainly doesn’t help the whole not crying thing either.

“I know I said– this morning– um, I know I said that I’d– that I would–” Her fists are clenched so tight in her lap that she thinks her fingernails might break skin, trying and failing to get the words out before the flood comes. But Joel is already springing into action, coming to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, nothing but a towel around his hips, collecting both of her hands in his, unfurling them in his.

“Hey, hey, what’s– what is it? What’s wrong?” Just a few, enough for her vision to start to cloud with them, though she can still see the way he ducks his head down to catch her gaze, his brow crumpled and a deep frown pulling at his lips. She takes one of her hands from his to pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to cut off the tears before they can really start falling.

“I think I’m just tired. I’m sorry, Joel. Would it be okay if we, um, if we just–” He squeezes her hand, a relief in its quiet reassurance.

“Why don’t we just lay down, Cher, huh? It’s too hot out for anything else anyways.” She mumbles a warbly okay, but he’s already up and rummaging through his dresser, pulling on a pair of boxers before digging out a shirt for her as well, because she’s still in the stupid dress from this morning, only now realizing how badly she’d like to claw it off right now.

Finally, they settle down around each other on the mattress, only the sparsest of clothing, the sheets kicked off the end so they can stay close even with the humid warmth in the air. And after dozing for an hour or two like that, letting that thick crush of tears dissolve itself with her cheek smushed against his bare chest, she lifts her head up to meet his half-shut eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Cher.”

“Do you ever think about leaving?” He drags his finger down the line of her nose, then back up and over the arc of her eyebrow, idle and easy.

“You mean– like leaving town?”

“Yeah, getting out of here.”

“Sometimes, a lot less than you do, I bet.”

“Sometimes it seems like it’s all I think about.” Joel lets out a long sigh at her words, his finger continuing a random path along her jaw, over her bottom lip, mismatched mapping.

“I know it is, Cher.”

“Do you think I could do it? Just not come back?”

“I know you could. Go and be a big time writer and all that.”

“You could too, you know.” Joel snorts, and she brings her palm down on his chest, a small don’t.

“Yeah right.”

“You could. There’s auto shops in the big cities too, Joel.”

“I don’t wanna work in an auto shop for the rest of my life, Cher.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” She hums, pressing a kiss to his chest, her bare legs shifting in their tangle with his.

“Would you do it with me?” It comes out, bubbles up from her chest before she can stop it. And she only realizes how badly she wants it after she has asked it. How quickly this has turned into the only thing she wants, her mind finally catching up with everything else. How somewhere along the way, nothing serious, just for the summer, became something else entirely.

“Do what?”

“Leave and not come back, with me.”

“Cherry.” Said long and low, like don’t tease, not this, please don’t. It makes her sit up a bit more so she can fully look at him..

“I’m serious, Joel.” Yes, she thinks, she is really, really serious about this. So serious about this it feels like her heart might split at the seams if he tells her anything other than yes. Joel still looks skeptical, unsure, his head tilted and his brow furrowed up at her.

“Like, now?”

“No, at the end of the summer, two weeks from now. Just come with me when I go back to college.”

“And what, Cher? You’re gonna tuck me away in your dorm room or something?” She hates that now is the time he chooses to be such the pragmatist, frustrated heat creeping up her throat as she lets her nails scratch lightly against his chest, as if she might be able to coax something else out from behind his ribs.

“We’ll get an apartment. I’m eligible to work as a TA next year, and you’ll find work too and then– and then I only have two more years left of school and–”

“Are you really serious about this?” He has finally sat up with her, stopping her ramble into the future with his palm cupping her cheek.

“I’m so serious, Joel.”

“We’d be dirt poor.”

“Probably.”

“We’d probably kill each other after a month of living together.”

“It’s possible.”

“Goddamn it, why am I actually considering this?” That makes a laugh burst from her chest, her smile curling against his, her forehead pressed against his.

“Just say that you will, Joel, please.” He takes a kiss from her, then another, then another until there’s no space between them, mouths moving mouths and sighs being swallowed and his hands coaxing her into his lap, holding her as close as he can.

“You really want to do that– with me?” There it is, that smallness, that youngness, his eyes wide and rounded and looking at her and only her. Asking for something, anything from her. She gives him only the truth in return.

“I wouldn’t want to leave with anyone else but you.”

…

It’s impossibly hot out, humid too, and by the time one o’clock rolls around, he’s doing less actual work and more swiping away sweat before it drips into his eyes. Though he’s pleased with the progress he’s made, having already broken down the dilapidated porch, a huge pile of scrap wood all that remains of it, not much more to do now until he gets the materials needed to start building.

“Cher?” He knocks on her office door, still shut, and he reckons it’s been shut since she slammed it earlier that morning. He thinks that he can hear the faint sound of typing, a small curl of guilt in his gut that he’s interrupting, but he knocks again, a little louder, the typing coming to an abrupt stop.

“Hey, how’s it going out there?” She’s wearing glasses, thick, square frames that hang low on her nose, peering at him over the top of them. It stops his mind short for a moment, something new that he tries to quickly tuck away, but she still seems to catch his stuttered moment, her smile turning slanted as she pushes the glasses up and into her hair.

“Readers, can you believe that? I’m not even forty and I need readers. My doctor says it’s because I press my face too close to the screen while I’m writing, so chalk it up to occupational hazard I guess.” That makes him smile with a quick string of memories, her when they were kids, curled over her notebook with her nose pressed right alongside the quick scrawl of her pencil. Maybe not so new then.

“Reckon I’ll need them soon too.”

“Well, I’ll give you a pair of mine when you do, I have about a dozen of them scattered in various places around the house.” She sighs, a glance over her shoulder to her computer, screen still on, mouse still blinking, and he remembers what he actually came to bother her for.

“Just wanted to let you know that the old porch is all broken down. I’ll have one of the guys come by and pick up all the scrap in a day or two. Next step will be you deciding on what kind of wood you want the new one built with.”

“Oh wow, you moved fast, huh?” He palms the back of his neck, just a bit bashful under her wide eyes and small praise. But then he realizes that he just showed her the huge sweat stain under the arm of his t-shirt, quickly dropping his arm back down with a shrug.

“It’s nothing, Cher, that wood was so rotten most of the work was already done for me.”

“Thank you anyways, seriously, I– oh shit, is it really one already?” He realizes that she’s looking over his shoulder at a clock hanging on the wall outside her office, another long sigh deflating her shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’ve been working this whole time, Joel. Jesus, it’s so hot out– here–” She’s already on the move, and he just barely keeps up on her heels and into the kitchen. Whatever this is, this frantic and flighty energy, it’s definitely new. His protests fall on deaf ears as she bangs and barges around the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water and–

“We don’t have much to eat, and I know you aren’t exactly interested in tofu but–”

“Cher–”

“There’s a new sandwich place that I saw opened down the street? I forget the name but I could–”

“Cher, I–”

“I always have eggs in the fridge, not exactly lunch but–”

“Cherry.” Just enough volume, enough firmness for her to stop in her tracks, still that flustered look on her face, and it confirms what he had suspected.

“Are you– are you nervous about something?” Another long sigh, the tense lift of her brow slackening as she hands him the glass of water, finally slowing down.

“Do you want the truth?” He can’t help the short bark of laughter that comes out at her question, though she seems dead serious, looking up at him from under a rather timid pout.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.”

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Try me, Cher.” She rounds the kitchen counter to stand in front of him. He swears his heart jumps and jolts into his throat when she picks up one of his hands in both of hers, turning over his palm. He doesn’t dare move, not a muscle, watching the way her lashes drop down to her cheeks from the way she keeps her eyes focused on his hand.

“Well, I– oh, you have a splinter in your palm.” He is so completely uninterested in the fact that there’s a splinter in his palm right now, willing her to get back to whatever track she was just on, but she’s already tugging him by his hand through the house and up the stairs and into a bedroom, her bedroom, he thinks, and finally into her bathroom. And there’s no real thought formed in his mind as he watches her rummage in her medicine cabinet for tweezers, just that tightness in his throat and the strange kick in his chest.

“Alright, quick pinch.” Something that a mother would say, his eyes prick with it, and not because of the swift pull of the splinter coming out of his palm. And she’s so close, her chin tucked down to look at his hand, her forehead almost grazing his. And her hand that isn’t daubing disinfectant into his palm is cupped so lightly beneath his own, her thumb stroking along the side of his. A small whisper of that’s better, though he doesn’t let her flit away when she’s finished, turning his hand to lace his fingers with hers. Her eyes stay focused on their hands, but he ducks his head down to finally catch her gaze.

“Now what’s got you so nervous, Cher?” Quiet, something that she taught him how to do first, before Sarah did. How quiet he could be for her, and what a gift it was.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Joel, you.”

“What did I do?” The small curl of a smile, somewhere in the sway his forehead has pressed against hers so he can feel the ghost of that curve against his own.

“You’re here, in my house.”

“Do you want me to leave?” So light, so barely, her nose brushing along the line of his. His eyes flutter shut with the sigh she lets out.

“No, I very much do not want you to leave.” A fleeting thought, how easy this was two decades ago. How easy it was to reach out for her and now, now it takes every strung snap of his heart pulling and pulsing to close that space. But when he does, the world doesn't stop spinning, there is no orchestral swell. In fact, he can hear a car alarm going off outside. And it isn’t exactly good either, because the moment his lips brush hers, she is just as soon jerking her head away, a quiet curse in the back of her throat. Not exactly the reaction he was looking for.

“Shit, Cher, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, that one is on me. I just– could you– could we–” She takes another deep breath, like she’s trying to stop herself from tripping over any more words. He’s happy to fill in the rest for her.

“Try again?”

“Yeah, please.”

This time, he thinks it through a bit more. He brings his hand that isn’t held in hers to the side of her neck, his fingers curling around her nape, something steady to smooth out her fret. Nothing like this, not in years, though he wills himself to remember. A small one to the corner of her mouth, still an out, a chance to decide that no, big mistake, because if this goes any further, he doesn’t know if he could take no without falling to pieces. But she doesn’t pull away this time, her palm coming to splay against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, the smallest tug to come closer.

The next one is good. The next one is a shared sigh, a yes, please, this. Missed this. Missed the soft puff of her breath against his mouth before pressing his lips to hers. Missed that sound, that broken little thing in the back of her throat when he slips his tongue along her bottom lip. Missed the way her jaw hinges, opening up to him easy. Yes, he thinks, this feels easy. Like they never stopped.

Neither of them speak, silent understanding in the shuffle of their feet, knees bumping into each other as they stumble out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. He should be more careful, he should be less greedy. He should, but. But she’s here, and she’s pressing the perfect length of her body against his, and she keeps kissing him, surprising him when she pulls away only to put her lips in that one patch of his beard that has never grown right, holding her mouth there like yes, she has always been right there.

So he grows greedy with it, his hands almost unsure of where they would like to start first. Her hips, holding the frame of them, feeling that presence before his palms slip up under the hem of her t-shirt, warm skin and the notches of her spine, known and unknown at the same time. And he thinks to himself that it must be a New York thing, this no bra streak she seems to be on, but he’s happy for it, makes it easier for his palms to spread out over the planes of her shoulder blades, the fragile flutter of bone and muscle as she circles her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers slip under the neck of his t-shirt, seeking out skin the same as him, and suddenly that little worry, that little fear creeps in. He could excuse it as insecurity, that would be easiest, so he does.

“Cher, I– I’ve been working all morning and I’m pretty sure I smell and–” The words fizzle out in his throat when her nails scratch along his shoulder blades, holding him in place as she noses along the line of his neck, her lips coming to rest just beneath the hinge of his jaw. Still surprising him, she ducks her head down, pressing her face into his chest, an inhale that feels deeper from the rise and fall of it against where his palms are still splayed on her back.

“Joel, I really don’t give a fuck about that.” No, no retreat, not now, her small nod enough for him to take a little more, to keep going. She wants this too. Wants him too. And maybe, maybe she never stopped. Because she’s moving like him, desperate like him, searching like him, so maybe like him, she never stopped.

Each article of clothing is asked after. Is this okay? Yes, please, yes. Still okay? Yes, still okay, please, yes. Until she’s bare and so is he, and it’s the same, and it’s so very different. His palm settles wide over her stomach, fingers slipping down along the dark scar just over her pelvis, her breath tensing and catching there as he does.

“Ellie was a c-section.” She says it shy, her eyes focused on where her hand is curled around his bicep.

“That right?”

“Hmm, nothing ever easy with that one.” He smiles against her temple, his palm dragging up, settling at the curve of her breast, earning a laugh from her when he squeezes just a little mean. Up even further, to her shoulder, to that tattoo, that blooming branch of a cherry tree.

“When, Cher?”

“Three years ago, and this one–” She pulls his hand down the side of her body, all the way to her thigh where the bundle of chrysanthemums is inked.

“Two years ago.” He likes that it was so recent. The small, childish part of his brain does, at least. That she was still thinking about it, that she wanted to keep thinking about it. Something big and proud pressing against his ribs, just so to make him bold enough to coax her back and down onto her bed.

He keeps his palm on the chrysanthemums, only removing it once he has settled on his stomach between her legs, quickly replaced by the open heat of his mouth, dragging along each dark bloom.

“You’re bigger, Joel.” His first instinct is to turn sheepish under her gaze, nearly ready to tell her that actually, he’s doing Atkins. But then he gets a better look at her expression, the heavy droop of her eyes and the soft, small part of her lips. And she’s looking at him, all at him. He puffs up with that look, coaxing her thighs over his shoulders, only wanting it to ache a little with how wide he has her spread open.

“Can I?”

“Please.” All the nerves he remembers from two decades ago, anxious to do it right, to make it right for her. Though that’s tempered beneath the throbbing want he feels, no room to be bashful when he’s hurting so bad for it. And no room to be precious about it either, dragging the flat of his tongue through her cunt, a groan already crackling in the back of his throat when she says his name like a sigh, long and languoring. He stills remembers her fingers in his hair, and he can’t help the way his eyes flick up to her face, brow pulled down deep and wanting, trying to ask for it without having to as he sucks and laps at her clit. And when he pulls his mouth away enough to spit on her swollen sex, only to chase right after it with his tongue, pressing into her clenching entrance with his jaw dropped and heavy, she finally gives him what he wants, her fingers threading through his hair to cup the back of his head. A light tug, always in charge.

“Like that– so good like that– fuck.” That’s another thing he’s noticed, a new habit she must have picked up along the way, her words a little crasser, a little more swearing mixing with everything else. It both shocks and delights him that her bite got bigger through the years.

His hips have started to jolt into the mattress like a damn teenager, but he can’t help it, not when he’s watching the way the tendons in her neck arch and jump as he slides one finger into her cunt, quickly followed by a second when she preens more, please, more. He rests his cheek on her thigh, a kiss to the crease of her hip as he fucks her open on his fingers, that close curl he remembers her liking making her stomach clench and her back arch.

“Look at me, Cher, please.” It feels more like a need than a want, to have her eyes on him, to make this real, and he’ll beg for it if he has to, but her eyes are already cracking open, still half-shut, the downturned fan of her lashes barely lifting. But she’s looking at him, her lips parting as she watches him press his mouth over her clit, holding steady swirling heat and pressure, chasing down her pleasure for her.

“Baby– I want– I want– I–” He didn’t know he was waiting to hear that, how badly he wanted to hear that, has been wanting to hear that. And now it’s all he wants, that word, from her, over and over and over. He smooths his other palm out over her pelvis, holding her steady even when she tries to curl back into the mattress, away from the insistent press of his fingers and the heat of his mouth.

“Say that again, Cherry. I’ll give you everything you want if you just say that again for me.” Her head is tilted to the side, her ear almost on her shoulder as she looks down at him, her face crumpled somewhere between hurt and want. But it smooths out all at once, and he knows she knows, an I got you in the small smugness of her slanted smile.

“Baby, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Who is, Cher?” His words slur hot and heavy over her clit, and he can feel the muscles in her stomach jump beneath his palm.

“You–” She cuts herself off with a stuttered whine when he lets his fingers stretch and curl inside her, though she continues on a drawn exhale youyouyouyou.

“Close?” He doesn’t need to ask it, he can feel it in the way she’s clenching around his fingers, in the way her slick is smearing against the inside of her thighs, against his scruff.

“Uh-huh.”

“You want it?” Another uh-huh and a jerky nod, her fingers curling tighter in his hair and her heel slipping down his back, digging into muscle as he takes and takes and takes.

“It’s yours, Cher. Take it, it’s all yours.” She does, perfectly, with his name small and nearly soundless in her throat, her whole body curling up tight around him before going limp, slackening slow. Just a weak pull of her fingers in his hair and a mumbled come here, please, come here, to coax him up the length of her body.

His cock rests hard and aching against the crease of her thigh, and he hasn’t wanted something so badly, so entirely, in a very long time. She rests her hand on his chest, letting her nails graze down his front, particular attention paid to his stomach, something that makes him grumble, though she’s smiling as she does it, eyes crinkling up. Smiling like that, here with him like that, all he can do to duck down to make sure that it’s real with his mouth against hers.

And no, he thinks, they’re definitely not doing this in the right order. Probably should have had a healthy, adult conversation. Probably should have done a lot of things differently before ending up like this. But she moves so good for him, and he hopes he can for her too, his hand curling around the back of her knee to hitch it against his hip, opening her up as his cock drags heavy and wanting through her swollen cunt. No words when he presses his hips forward, to the very end of her, just open mouths breathing each other in, and stillness that makes his head spin in the impossible heat of her.

“Cher, I– been a little while for me and I don’t– I’m sorry– I don’t think–” Soothing, her palm brushing back his hair from his face, drawing his eyes to hers and she’s still smiling. Not mirthful or mocking, just presence, just feeling it too, her other palm smoothing circles along his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Joel, just let me feel you. That’s all I want.” He can’t help the sound that skitters up his throat at her words, something broken and small, because she just keeps looking at him, eyes wide and reassuring, still brushing her hand back through his hair, taking care as he falls apart for her. And it’s devastating when he finally moves, a full tilt unraveling as they both let out sharp breaths, her spine curling off the mattress when he thrusts forward again.

They take it slow but strong, each press of his hips driving them further up the mattress until he has to curl his forearm around the crown of her head to keep her from jolting into the headboard. And he was right, it has been a while, and it’s her, and he’s already embarrassingly gone. And it doesn’t help that she’s murmuring in his ear all the while, that it’s okay, just want you, Joel, just want this, just give it to me, I want it.

He comes with his hips bruisingly pressed against hers, with her whispered praises swirling around in his skull, and with his heart beating so hard he thinks his ribs might break with the ache of it.

“You’re perfect, Cher. Nothing like this, ever. Just you.” The words don’t make much sense to him coming out, his mouth pressed over her sternum as he speaks. He just knows he means them, softening slow inside her, half a mind to apologize for thinking with his dick, but judging by the way her ankle is still hooked around his waist, holding him close, he doesn’t think she minds.

And no, he thinks, this doesn’t solve any of their problems. So much that still needs to be said and understood and relearned. So much that needs to be sorry, so sorry. Two decades worth of sorry. But right now, she’s dragging her fingers through his scruff to pull his face to hers and she’s kissing him, and her chest is sticking to his with their sweat.

“Missed you.” He’s not sure if he heard it right, mumbled out against his chin. Such a small sentiment to span all that time.

“Missed you too, Cher.”

...................................................

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notroosterbradshaw · 2 years

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The 1%

In which Rooster reminds you he’s not just a king in the sky. He’s that good in your bedroom too. Rooster x Reader. 18+. Slow smut, nsfw.

Please don’t hang around if you’re underage. This is not for you.

It wasn’t often Rooster slept so soundly. He was cooked, you knew he was. Every time he'd go away and return, he'd say he’d never felt adrenaline like it in his lifetime of flying and instead of coming home and making love… well, he asked if you would just stay with him. He stripped and showered, needing the decay of the fight removed from him. He wanted you curled around him and remind him it was all okay. You gave him what he needed, stayed close and hoped he was having pleasant dreams.

He’d been out a few hours and every once in a while, you’d kiss between his scorching shoulder blades, run your fingers through his short curls, or tell him you loved him. He’d smile faintly or mumble something inaudible but would never fully wake. It was okay, your restraint could hold on. What was one more night? He was home, he was safe.

But you were in HELL. Hell, watching him in your bed and not filled with the same urgency and pent-up frustration of needing his body, just like you were. You trekked a fingernail down the curves and ridges of his shoulder blades and back of his ribs, a new part of his body to be obsessed about. “God, you’re beautiful. But I’ll let you sleep this one time," you huffed to yourself.

He gave a low chuckle, surprising you. “Why are you still awake?” his already raspy voice thick with exhaustion. "What time is it?"

"Stupid o'clock," you confirmed as he brought up a strong arm and pulled you into his vice grip, snuggling your body under his. He knew you were hot and bothered, he loved that you were always ready for him, but his goddamn head couldn't get off the fuckin' pillow. Felt like he'd been hit by a truck, every limb was weighted into your soft, coma-inducing mattress. And he hated that. You wriggled into his groin purposefully and while he was hard, his teasing laughter continued but refused to answer.

“This is a dangerous game, little spoon. Poke the beast, you’ll get the horns.”

Self-satisfied as you rolled over to face him, you replied, “Gimme the horns, big boy.”

Cackling, he reaffirmed, ”I have jet fuel in my veins, baby. If I start, I will not stop.”

”Perfect,” you continued, hands beginning to roam over his marble chest. “So sexy,” you mumbled. You weren’t an idiot, Rooster wasn't like other men when it came to the bedroom. He had a ridiculously high sex drive and infinitely outlasted others you’d spent your time with before him. Stamina, his stamina was out of this world. He theorised he and his Top Gun buddies had trained so hard to put their bodies in highly strenuous situations and come through the other side, the upside was an outrageous libido to boot.

You recall how smug he was comparing himself to the most enduring athletes in the world. Elite.

The 1%. Best of the best. Rooster had been on some incredible missions, putting his body through extremely taxing conditions others possibly wouldn’t have survived. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Been in some of the worst dogfights in aviation history and your touch will be what puts me in my early fuckin’ grave.”

”You’re not scared of little me, are you, Roost?” you gently bit his nipple, and he hissed. You rolled out of his grasp and tossed back the sheets, needing freedom. You lightly pushed him from his side to his back and made yourself a seat on his powerful thighs, lowering yourself to trace around his belly button with your tongue.

”No, not scared,” he strained out. “Pretty sure I could take you,” he replied, breathing deep - you had him in a tangle and it was a delirious sight. “You started this, you better have pure intentions to finish the job,” he said as your palms massaged his hips, right around that delightful V. His body rock hard from top to toe, your first mission accomplished.

Surrender.

“I missed my man. Forgive me if your body makes me a little wild,” you whispered into his warm skin.

"Okay," he breathed a wistful sigh, wrapping his strong arms under his head. “I give. I'm yours."

You hummed in appreciation. The Queen on her throne, you thought to yourself, where Rooster would happily keep you seated forever. Resting forward, you gripped his hips and meandered down his body, licking, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses, hot, adoring the feeling of him quaking under your command. He was so used to being in control; it was satisfying witnessing him thoroughly debouched.

Taking his straining cock in your warm palms, he didn't need much begging to have you take him in your hot, slick mouth. You sighed with him, needing to taste him on your tongue. Riling Rooster up was no difficult feat, he could be hard in a moment, but keeping him from coming quickly when you went down? It proved a little harder for him. He called it your magical witchcraft, his undoing. Your mouth, his cock? He was a lost cause. Carefully, skillfully dragging your palm up and down his shaft you took his cock to your lips, he was always a mouthful. You were slow and methodical, a lot like him in everyday life, and everything he struggled with in the bedroom. His groans, writhing before you? Wetter than the ocean. You needed some release yourself... but this was all for him.

"Goddamit," he muttered, his hands knotting into your hair (gosh, how he loved to play with your hair. Knot his long fingers into it, tenderly trace strands), massaging your scalp then as a warning, pulling gently. "I'll come."

Pulling your mouth from him, he gasped, almost relieved. "You can come, you don't need my permission. Just some warning will be fair," you teased him, taking him deep, almost choking. No retreat, he thought.

"Baby, please? Oh, fuck me," his head fell back amidst the pillows, pulling at his short curls for a few more moments and he raised his hips to roll his hips. Just to add to the torture, you reached under him gently, toying with him. "Baby, I'm gonna - Jesus Christ," he littered the air with curses as he began to lose control, hips erratic and he came hard in the back of your throat, thick and wild. You continued to kiss, caress and suck until he was bedraggled and flopped ungracefully on the bed. He whipped the pillow over his eyes, and if it wasn't the most adorable thing you'd ever seen this man do. Straightening out, you stretched your back. It's all fun, but it did have its limits, cramped around his huge frame like that.

“Ok?” You drew lines around his abs lightly, knowing he was still incredibly sensitive.

"Get up here. Lemme kiss you," he muffled from under the pillow. You couldn't refuse as you crawled back up and pulled the pillow back, grinning.

"At ease, lieutenant," you replied as he chuckled.

"Fuckin' aye, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," he chorused and opened his arms to you as you fell into them and peppered kisses across his clavicle, goose pimples prickled across his flushed skin. "Kiss me."

You raised your eyes to his eyes softening. "Oh, so now you want some romance," you joked.

"What's wrong with a little tenderness?" he bristled. "Just want to thank you. You didn't have to do this. I know most girls don't enjoy it -"

"I'm not most girls," you reassured him. "I would give that to you daily, Roost.” It was mostly a promise.

He breathed, a little dreamily. "You blow my mind."

You shrugged, whipping off your old college swim team shirt and tossing it with a pile of dirty clothes.

"That seems purposeful," he noted, a low hum escaping his full lips, taking in your skin on display as he eased up on his forearms to watch you.

"Definitely engaging," you confirmed, skimming up his body and touching his nose with yours.

“I’ve never been with some as eager to please me as you,” he said hotly, his face reaching up for yours, abs strained as he sat up a little higher. “Someone as sexy,” he licked your top lip but pulled back as you tried to kiss him back, a wicked grin on his face as he too cheekily, too easily, denied you. “Someone as…” he contemplated. “Ride or die. You are the fucking dream,” he said, prepping you in his arms and flipping you under him like it was absolutely no effort on his behalf. “But since you wanted me, here I am and I'm more than willing," he hungrily dove for your mouth, swiftly waging a silent war on your tongue as he wrapped one arm under you, hitching your hips close.

It stayed like that for a while, heavy breathing, hot kisses, pawing at the other indiscriminately. Just reminding the other what you'd missed while he was gone. He gripped your thigh, bringing it up, giving him more access to you so he could move further up your body. He rutted a little against you. "You want me?" he breathed into your neck.

"Yes," you told him, his lips on your throat driving you absolutely crazy.

"Tell me, do you want me?" he asked again, his lips passing your jaw and you were face to face again. He adjusted his posture to sit his cock at your opening, fisting it through a few times. "You don't have to say the words. Sweet Jesus, I can already feel it."

"Rooster, please," you clutched his shoulder and wrapped your other leg around his waist, trying to keep him there.

"I know you need me," he whispered, nuzzling against your earlobe and chomping lightly. "I know you do, baby."

You didn't just need him, you were obsessed. You'd wanted him for so long, and now here you both were, just as desperate for one as the other was. Gently wiping his cock through your slick folds, he guided himself in, fully bottoming out, resting his forehead on your shoulder and gazing down your bodies to view where they met. He started to move his hips, pulling back to push back into you. "That okay?"

You brought his mouth to yours and for a moment, you just made out and fucked slowly. It felt incredible. You were used to going absolutely full tilt with Rooster... but something told you Bradley was with you now, a little quieter, reserved… shy. "Perfect," you said as he brought his finger between your bodies and started teasing you. “Good.”

"God, that. Right there," you said, almost embarrassed to make noise in the quiet of the room. Your eyes were closed in pleasure, it had been a long time since you'd been with someone like this. Slow, bodies like rolling waves. Maybe he was more the water than the clouds the way he crashed around you.

"You're so close," he cried against your skin. Every nerve was on fire.

"I love you, Bradley," you whispered in his ear as he slowed and kissed you.

"I know, I feel it. I love you too. Thank you for loving me," he gently rubbed at our clit as you started to come, the familiar joyous coil inside you exploding. It had been a long few weeks without him, and this was what made all the time apart while - all the time you bullshitted yourselves into thinking this was a bad idea.

"Holy shit," Bradley muttered, taking your lips as the tension was too much and his hips ground into you, erratic and deep as you came down and he came undone.

You opened your tired eyes, straining in the morning light glowing across Rooster’s magnificent back. It was a bold way to wake you, but gee, it worked. He wasn’t rough, just casually lapping at you, whether to raise you to taste you, you weren’t sure. He concentrated his focus on your clit as your eyes opened a little more as you watched his dark head bob. “That’s so good, Roost,” you adjusted your posture to feel less pressure on your back.

”Just lay back and enjoy, sleepyhead,” he came up momentarily to take you in, his gaze soft as he licked his top lip. “If you don’t mind, I got my mind on something, so no distractions,” he instructed. You were his dutiful pupil.

Scoffing back a laugh, you shrugged. “No problem, I’ll just enjoy the view.”

Here's the visual: Rooster between your legs and his shoulders and back working muscles you didn't know existed like a rolling river. Biceps strong around your thighs as his head bobbed, granting your every wishes true. You were spiralling and it was spectacular.

”We’re not leaving this bed,” he continued against your belly he popped back up to meet your eyes. “I’m going to fuck you all damn day. You’re going to be sick of me."

"Impossible,” you told him as his face hovered over yours, eye to eye. He searched your face momentarily before a small, shy smile casts over his gaze.

“Good morning.”

You caressed his face, tracing the faint scars on his stubbly chin (a car accident when he was just out of high school though you didn’t remember ever hearing about it at the time. Buried for honour's sake, you assumed). He was usually a bit embarrassed about them but preened into your touch. “Morning, handsome,” you replied him. “How lucky am I?” you weren't sure if you asked yourself or out loud but you certainly knew the answer.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

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granddelusions · 4 months

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SHADES OF COOL (JOHN FRUSCIANTE)

“but i can’t fix him, can’t make him better… and i can’t do nothing about his strange weather” - lana del rey

warnings: SMUT! ANGST! INFIDELITY! JOHN BEING AWFUL! (ily john im sorry) 18+ !!!!!!!!

it’s no surprise you were in john’s bed after all the names he called you.

no matter how many times in those 4am phone calls he called you a bitch or “crazy” — his favorite — you still ended up underneath him, his greasy dark hair glistening with sweat, his chain hanging right in your face as he thrust his cock into you.

it’s no surprise that john put his pleasure before yours; you’ve gotten used to it by now.

before, the way you came around his fingers or on his cock was a sight to behold in his eyes. john would have you writhing on the bed, crying out his name so loud the other boys would pound on the walls in their hotel rooms, whistling and shouting. he’d fill you up, watching your eyes roll back in your head as his cum leaked out of you and onto the nice fitted sheets. he’d clean you up and take you in his arms, holding you tight and rocking you gently as you both drifted off to sleep.

now, he’ll have you on his lap backstage 10 minutes before a gig, barely warming you up with his fingers, finishing on your chest with no passion, no concern, no love. you’ll sit there, ridding yourself of the stickiness around your breasts, wondering what went wrong. you’d weep while he played his set with zero concern about his crying girlfriend backstage.

he would love when you would visit him on tour; you had the time of course, as he supported you and made sure you never had to work a day in your life as long as you were with him.

but in this present moment, as you cried out john’s name, holding onto the bedframe and feeling the pressure building up inside you, you realize just how little those visits did in terms of your relationship — if you can even call it that anymore.

with your visit to vegas — he still would have gone out the night after you left and flirted with those fans.

with your visit to new york — the guys still would have taken him to that club where he met that girl — the girl who vaguely resembled you and who john referred to the boys as “a goddamn enigma”. this rung a bell in anthony’s mind because he said the same thing about you just two years prior.

the guys had the heart to tell you he took that girl back to his hotel room. you forgave him as he cried in your arms, chalking it up to how depressed he’s been with the monotonus tour life. through his sobs, he wanted you to know that you were his girl, that it will never happen again.

his girl.

you snapped back to reality as he grabbed your face, your eyes interlocking.

“my girl, my good fucking girl… say it.”

and as the two of you finally came, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, salty tears streaming down your face. tears of pleasure and pain.

“i’m your girl.”

#john frusciante #john frusciante fanfic #john frusciante x reader #red hot chili peppers #rhcp #john frusciante smut #flea #chad smith #anthony kiedis #josh klinghoffer #rockstar gf #rockstar smut #lana del rey #shades of cool #alternative rock

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nifolution · 1 year

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Love Me Again

Pairing: Jake Jensen & Plus-size Reader

Summary: Jake was back, but the Loser’s sixth member is still M.I.A.

Warnings: fluff, angst, feels, bad attempt at humor, guns, killings, mention of memory loss, post breakup, enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

You Loved Me Once Main Masterlist

Clay’s unit awaited him in a motel parking lot in Adelaide. He secured their post mission rooms and returned keys in hand. "Okay, I got good news and bad news... We can all look forward to hot showers, clean sheets, and a complimentary breakfast. However, there were only three rooms available, so we will have to share.”

The responding groans of protest were expected. “Would you prefer to sleep on the ground for another night? No? So shut your pieholes.” Clay pocketed one of the keycards and set the remaining on the vehicle in front of him. “Aisha will be sharing with me. One room has a king, the other two double beds. Work it out amongst yourselves.”

Wordlessly, Jensen, Cougar and Pooch launched into a game of rock paper scissors. It had been weeks of travel, tents and living on top of one another. The victor cheered, scooping up the keycard to the private room.

“No! Come on, best two out of three.” When his friend shook his head, Jensen changed tactics, “I’ll give you that bitching crossbow I got last op if you switch with me… my watch… a hundred bucks. I’ll even throw in a foot massager, top of the line.”

“No way man. I need a night to myself. The Pooch has earned this.”

Jensen hung his head, accepting defeat. Bunking with his bestie wasn’t so bad, at least there were separate beds. Sharing one with Cougar wasn’t fun, the man was a cover hog. Jake was still grateful Clay reinstated him eight months ago. His teammates were ambivalent about him at first, but eventually everything returned to normal. Well, almost everything.

---------------

The Loser’s current operation led them to South Australia. They’d been hired by a distraught (and wealthy) father as part of a rescue team. He hadn’t seen nor heard from his daughter, Isla, in two years. She had been kidnapped by an illegal arms dealer who forced her into marriage. All prior attempts to get her back had failed. No amount of negotiation, payment, threats or pleading could sway the nefarious man to return her.

A rendezvous with the rest of the group at their makeshift campsite, plus a thirty minute drive east put the Humvees at the perimeter of the target’s estate. “Alright, you all know the drill,” Clay barked into the comms. “We get our asses in there, extricate the woman, send her back to her daddy, and take down anyone that stands in our way.”

Meanwhile their tech genius had already hacked into the system to disable the security and jam communications. Once the cameras powered down, Pooch floored it, ramming through the gate, the other two vehicles followed close behind.

“Eww... This guy’s got raptors picking at a bunch of bones and sinew on his property, always a good sign. You’d think he'd want to be more inconspicuous.”

Pooch’s face scrunched up at the image, “Pretty sure that's just a dead animal.”

Jake shook his head, pursing his lips in mock disapproval. “There's a lot of places to bury a body in a vineyard, all I’m saying. Keep the place tidy.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Aisha deadpanned.

“What do you call that… carrion, right?”

Clay grumbled from the front, “I'm close to calling it Jensen.”

“Yes, sir. I hear ya loud and clear. Shutting up…” he paused for dramatic effect, “now!”

---------------

“This whole goddamn thing’s going tits-up!” Clay had thought his team was prepared, ready to engage the moment they entered the property, but the intel their employer provided was crap. The location was more heavily armed than believed. His unit was at a disadvantage despite the extra help. Outmanned and outgunned, a few men were down and one lost within the first ten minutes.

“Well look at the bright side, we're outside enjoying some fresh...” Jensen’s quip went unfinished as he dove for cover. Incoming drones zoomed through the air spraying bullets. They must have been linked to an independent off sight system because the primary and secondary security had been obliterated.

Jake focused the scope of his rifle, aiming at the nearest flying pest. “Here birdie birdie…” ‘Wait. That - that’s.’ Still in disbelief, he shouted, “Guys! Guys, that's one of Y/N’s drones!”

Pooch was skeptical, “How can you be sure?”

“Cause they’re like my step kids. Franny, Freddy, Felix, Frank and Foxy. It’s been painted, but that's Frank,” he insisted before taking off, sprinting toward the assailing device.

Clay eyes widened at the other man’s actions, “Jensen, you realize it's shooting at us! Stand down!” Seeing his order ignored, he screamed at the rest of his group, “Cover his dumb ass.”

Disregarding his boss, Cougar pulled out his cellphone and spoke in hushed tones to the person on the other end.

Aisha grit her teeth at her teammate while continuing to fire at their opponents. “That idiot lost his mind, now our sniper decides to make a phone call mid battle. Are you ordering a pizza?”

“Don't forget the breadsticks,” Pooch chimed in. Laughing at the increasing absurdity of the situation.

Jake removed his helmet and dropped his weapon. Frantically jumping and waving his arms, repeatedly calling out ‘Angel.’ A drone moved in and shot at his feet, before slightly pulling back, continuing to hover above him.

“Understood. Our apologies. Copy that.” Cougar hung up and waited.

The remaining drones collected above Jensen’s head. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. However the moment he dreaded never came. The devices turned and began taking out the guards with quick precision. When only Clay’s men remained, they flew off.

Sticking to the plan, the team continued to the manor. Wary of a possible ambush awaiting beyond the front door, in lieu of breaking it down, Clay instructed Jensen and Cougar to go through the nearest second floor windows, clear the immediate area and let them in.

Cougar nodded, but walked right through the unlocked door instead. To everyone’s shock but his, it was clear. Raising his chin toward the staircase, he proceeded up them.

“Okay, so we're just following him then?”

Clay shrugged, “Good enough for me.” He had the Losers head upstairs, leaving the rest of the group to keep watch at the entrance.

Cougar seemingly knew exactly where to go. Navigating the twists and turns of the large house with ease. Any lingering guards they came across were swiftly handled. Within the master bedroom’s closet, hidden behind sliding shelving they found a 16-point locking, bullet resistant, biometric fingerprint panic room door.

Before Jensen could get his gear out to crack it, Cougar tapped the scanner, confirming it was off. He pulled the heavy door open, immediately shooting the two guards inside as if he was expecting them.

Jensen scratched his head. Not knowing what to make of it. “What is going on?... Are you a T-1000… What's my dog's name?”

Cougar just looked at him and chuckled.

“You laugh, but I'm legitimately concerned.”

Clay took point, announcing his entrance into the room, “Honey, I'm home.”

The occupants sat on a couch, Isla held a crying baby in her arms, wincing from her husband's hand on her thigh, squeezing painfully tight. The baby’s presence gave everyone pause. No one was aware there would be a child involved. There has been one surprise after another today.

“You lost, asshole. Now let them go and come quietly.” Clay slung his rifle over his shoulder and moved toward them, attempting to calmly apprehend the man.

The target pulled out a gun, shoving it into Isla’s side. “Stay where you are.”

“Don't be like that. This doesn't have to get more ugly than it already is.”

Seething, the man turned the gun on Clay, who discharged his sidearm, firing two shots into the arms dealer’s chest before he could blink. The group hurriedly moved Isla and her baby out of the building into one of their vehicles. Assuring the frightened woman that she was safe and going back to her father. Pooch voiced his concern over their lack of carseat.

“Then drive extra carefully.” Clay smiled at the rescuees, “Let's get you both home.”

Riding in the second Humvee, Jake stared down a silent Cougar. He offered no explanation as to why Y/N's drones were on the property or who he had called, but it was pretty easy to connect the dots.

---------------

Hours later, Isla and her daughter were safely on their way home. At Cougar’s request, and after a stop at the motel for much needed showers, the team waited at a bar in the city. Leaving one chair empty, correctly guessing who they should be expecting.

Jake was a bundle of nerves. The hand gripping his empty glass started to cramp as he watched the door. He wondered if they had Boys II Men on the jukebox to help set the mood. ‘Would that be too presumptuous? She probably moved on by now. Has a new special someone in her life. Somebody else loving her, touching her, making her laugh.’ He wouldn’t blame her. His amnesia may have been temporary, but the damage he caused wasn't.

“You stare at that door any harder and it will burst into flames.” Aisha refilled her teammates' glass, encouraging him to relax and breathe.

“She'll be here soon, won't she? She's still coming, right?”

Y/N took a deep breath before entering the tavern. Her former teammates were easy to spot. Cougar gave her his number when she quit, asking her to keep in touch. It took a few months before she found the strength to do so. Even after learning of her exs' recovery, she couldn't bring herself to return yet. She wanted her Jakey back, but was scared of his rejection. Plus she was on assignment, the timing was off. The weight of this reunion wasn’t lost on her. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you losers walk into mine.”

“Well that's unfair, you walked in after us.” Grinning ear to ear, Clay pulled her into a tight hug. “Missed ya, Y/N.”

“I had a few things to handle before getting here. So you beat me, but I've been dying to say it." She squeezed Clay tight before facing the rest. "I missed you all too. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t recognize you guys in all that fancy schmancy gear.”

Jake felt unsteady the moment she walked in, his blood roared in his ears. It was really her, his Angel, more gorgeous than ever. He watched her warm greeting with Clay, swallowing a lump in his throat. She was wearing the jacket he bought her. He hoped that was a good sign.

The group stood to welcome and embrace their former member. Jake waited through the exchange of pleasantries for his turn. Longing to throw his arms around his Angel and hold her close. It had been nearly a year since he’d done so. Ten months, three days and seventeen hours since he kissed her goodbye to go on that ill fated mission.

However, he noticed Y/N’s smile falter when their eyes met. Abandoning his desired hug, he forced a smile, awkwardly waved and sat back down.

“Hey Jake.” She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of her old love.

As everyone took their seats, Jensen glanced at the entrance then back at his Angel. “So are we um… waiting for anybody else?”

“Like who?”

“No-nobody. Nobody. Just wanted to make sure there was room for everybody. Everybody together again. It’s good to be together.” Jake took a long sip of his beer. His brain screamed with the knowledge that there was no boyfriend in the picture.

Y/N filled them in on her whereabouts since her departure. She’d gotten a job as private security for some rich asshole’s wife. Mostly involved keeping her in and others out. The winery was lovely, but the running of guns and heavier artillery, and the dabbling in human trafficking ruined the ambience. Of course, she knew he was dirty when she accepted the position, so Y/N did all she could to throw wrenches into his operations without being detected. Quietly dispersed his ill gotten gains into several hidden bank accounts, the biggest for Isla. She was helping the wife and baby prepare for a safe and covert escape. Simultaneously gathering evidence against the husband and his associates.

“It was all set to go down in a few days, and you guys just broke in and killed him. All that planning and hard work for nothing.” Y/N shoved Clay’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well it was the quickest way. Can’t argue that.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let months of work go to complete waste. So I allowed you guys to be the heroes while I tied up some loose ends. That’s why I was late. Had to reroute the latest shipments, funnel the rest of the money to charities, victims and of course, a nice sum for myself. Scrubbed the camera footage and removed any evidence of us or Isla being there. Then I alerted the authorities to handle the rest. They’ll find all they need to take down the whole thing.” She took a deep breath, trilling her lips to exhale. “But I’m still mad at you about it.”

Aisha offered compensation, “I don’t think anyone here will object if you want in on the pallet of wine we rescued."

“Bold of you to assume I didn't take my own,” Y/N laughed.

After a few rounds, the Losers felt they were sufficiently caught up on each others lives. Pooch and Cougar announced they were going to play stripes and solids, inviting Aisha and Clay as their opponents. It was obvious that was an excuse to leave the ex-lovers alone.

Jake wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. Putting on his most charming smile, he slid over next to Y/N. “G’day mate, fancy meeting you down unda. Maybe I can show you my down unda lata. I promise I'm koala-fied.” He tittered at his themed pickup line, but she didn't react. He desperately wanted to make her laugh. If she laughed, he knew things would be okay.

Trying to shake off the nervousness, he cleared his throat and continued his attempted seduction. “I like your jacket, where’d you get it?” He couldn’t backpedal fast enough seeing the alarmed look on her face. “Joke, really bad joke. Oh my god, I'm sorry. That was… Fuck,” he grimaced.

Y/N remained stiff and unsure. Wanting to give in to his flirting, but waiting for the other shoe to drop. The defeated look on Jake’s face broke her heart, so she attempted to bridge the divide with a safe topic, “How are Stephanie and Hannah?”

“They're good, they're good, um,” he scratched the back of neck, unsure how to proceed. His sister, having seen him at plenty of his worsts, forgave him instantly. His niece took a little bribery, but they were back to their usual shenanigans. “So, uh thanks for clearing the way for us back there, you know, after you shot at me.”

Her mouth dropped open, “Excuse me, I shot near you.”

“Tomato-tomahto.”

Cougar gestured with his eyes over to Jensen and Y/N, knowing he was striking out. Pooch got the hint. He called the man over and handed him his room key. Demanding he take it before he changed his mind. Jake practically ran back to the table to ask Y/N to his room to talk in private. He was amazed she agreed.

Aisha’s lips pursed watching the pair leave. “If he doesn't blow this, we'll have to put up with them being nauseatingly cute with each other again.”

“You don't want them to make up?” Clay rested his hands on her waist.

“I do,” she huffed. “Look, I don't know if I believe in that true love, princess bride, bullshit. But they are the closest I've ever seen to it... They belong together.”

“Agreed.”

---------------

The entire car ride to the motel passed in uncomfortable silence. Both anxious and unsure about the outcome of this night. Each stealing glances at the other. Jake noticed how hard her hand clenched around the steering wheel. Y/N caught sight of each time his hand reached for the radio before pulling away without turning it on.

Jake felt butterflies in his stomach as they pulled in the lot. Painful butterflies… Vampire butterflies. He drummed on his legs before hopping out of the vehicle. Y/N was quick to follow. They walked to the room without a word shared. Jake kept looking over his shoulder to make sure she was still with him. He swiped the keycard several times without success. The red light and negative beep mocking him. The twisting in his belly intensified. ‘Yep definitely vampire butterflies.’

Finally, the door flashed green and unlocked. He sauntered in, pretending to be calmer than he really was. Turning on the old Jensen charm, he bowed and waved his hand over the large bed. “Have a seat, m'lady. It’s not exactly the Ritz, but I hope it will be to your liking.”

“It's a nice room. We've stayed in much worse.” She spotted the bobblehead chihuahua on the nightstand, smiling coyly as she sat down. “So this is Pooch’s room?”

“Nah, it's mine. At least now it is.” He plopped down beside Y/N. “Sooo, how’ve ya been?”

“Good, until earlier today when I lost my job and residence cause some assholes charged in guns blazing.” Y/N sighed dramatically, “At least I can take solace in knowing Isla and her daughter are home safe. What about you?”

“I - I’m okay… most days. Um, so what's next for you? Seeing as how your life's been upended by a bunch of inconsiderate assholes.”

Y/N hummed, thinking of a response. “Well, I’ll have a lot of time on my hands, plus a bunch of money. So I'll probably make a few brothers and sisters for the F-team. Maybe one with a flamethrower.”

He turned to her with a lopsided grin. “That would be badass, like its maker.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered. He looked at her with such adoration, like she held all life's answers. That, that was her Jakey.

“Looks like the possibilities are endless now that you're homeless and unemployed.” Jake’s eyes squeezed shut, cringing. Not meaning to sound so callous.

She snorted, “I'm sure I'll be fine. I always land on my feet.”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief that she found humor in the situation. “Definitely, definitely… But if you're interested, I know of a job opening. Fast paced, high stakes, danger… romance,” he whispered the last word, blushing. “It’s with a great bunch called the Losers. I could put in a good word for you. In fact, I'm sure the two of us could strong-arm the boss to agree to any demands we want.”

“I'd have to move back to the states.”

“If you need a place to stay, your key still works… I um, kept the house. After you quit, I kinda skipped town. Woke up in Ohio about a month later. At first I completely panicked cause I didn't know where you were or where I was. Then it hit me that I REALLY didn't know where you were… and it was all my fault,” his voice cracked, on the verge of crying.

Her head lowered, unable to hold back her own tears. ‘If I had only waited longer.’ “You must be so disappointed in me for not sticking it out when you weren't yourself. I tried, I swear I did, but it was too much. I should have been stronger and held on until you were you again. I’m so sorry, Jakey.”

“No, Angel no.” he wiped Y/N’s cheeks with his thumb. “There's nothing to forgive. You didn’t abandon me, I drove you away. I don't blame you at all. Hell, I deserved it. I was a total asshole.” Jake took a deep breath, “I was so angry… I was in pain, confused. I felt trapped with no room to breathe. Was sick of everybody telling me things I was supposed to already know. Telling me over and over to relax and let myself recover when I couldn't calm down to save my life. I kept fighting with my sister, was short with my niece, rude and snapped at everyone… And you got the worst of it… When I saw you, there was something there in the back of my mind, just out of reach. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew your presence made my headache worse. So I aimed my frustration at you and chased you off. I can't say how sorry I am.”

Y/N gently touched Jake’s head, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing small circles with her fingers. The urge to comfort him stronger than any apprehension she felt before.

Jake leaned into her touch, “It's all better now. I'm better… I wish this was a cartoon so you could've wacked me in the head again to reset my brain and stop all the bullshit I put everyone through.”

She pulled her hand away too soon. “I'm glad you're better… You really hurt me, Jake, but you have to know I already forgave you.”

His eyebrows shot up, “You have? That fast? Are you certain, I mean…"

“It took some time. Months to push through that pain, but I'd be the bigger jerk if I didn't take into consideration that it wasn't completely your fault. You literally had a doctor's note to prove it.” Y/N smiled at him, brushing away a few more escaped tears.

“So you don't hate me?”

“I could never hate you, Jakey. Do you hate me?”

“Impossible.”

“It's going to continue to sting for a while though.”

He nods in understanding. Jake got on his knees before her, taking her hands in his, his face more serious than she's ever seen him. “I need you to believe me when I say I have NEVER thought those horrible things about you. You didn't deserve any of the awful things I said and I swear I didn't mean them. You’re my perfect Angel and I love everything about you. Every curve, every line, each and every inch of beautiful skin because it’s yours. You are the most incredible person I ever met and I can't stand knowing that I made you feel otherwise for even a minute. Please say you believe me.”

“I do.”

Jake leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her back.

Y/N returned the brief kiss. This was a good start, but she was exhausted. “It’s been a long day. I don’t know about you, but I’m wiped out. Can we pretend, just for tonight, that we’re good? That everything is back to normal? We can work on us in the morning, and everyday after, but right now I just need you and unconsciousness.”

‘She wants to sleep here, in my bed, with me.’ Jake jumped up, enthusiastically agreeing. His pants down around his ankles in an instant.

Her face became heated at Jake’s sudden nudity. Y/N bit her lips, shyly telling him she was going to change in the bathroom.

Jake realized he was jumping the gun. He pulled up his batman boxers, removed his shoes and remaining clothing. He turned the toy dog around, just in case. “Sorry mini Pooch, no looky loos.”

Y/N walked out in panties and t-shirt, tugging it down in an attempt to hide more of herself as she skittered to the bed and got under the covers. Jake frowned, he needed to mend his Angel's heart, squash the insecurities he created. He scrambled up the bed, took his glasses off and sat them on the nightstand. Hesitating at the edge of the bed.

“You can come closer.”

He didn't need to be told twice, scooting over and joining her under the covers. He sat next to her, tentatively wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Intent on never leaving her side again. “Hey, tomorrow, do you want to check out this awesome mini golf course I found? Just the two of us.” The smile that adorned his face when she agreed fell. His voice lowered to a whisper, “I'm terrified of screwing this up.”

“So am I,” Y/N admitted, lacing her fingers with his.

Jake kissed the top of her head. “I don't think I ever told you.”

“Hmm?”

“The moment I knew this was it for me… Remember our first comic con together, we had that bet going on over how many people we could get to follow us doing the bunny hop around the convention center. I said five, you bet nine, and we ended up having thirty-five people in line behind us.” He chuckled at the memory. “We had Link, predator, three Spidermans, a wookiee in a bikini and just so many others. I was behind you, my hands on your hips having the time of my life. And there was a moment midjump, midlaugh, when you looked back at me, making sure I was having fun too, and I knew with absolute certainty that I was going to love you for the rest of my life. That you were the one for me and there'd never be anyone else. That hasn't changed.”

Y/N’s eyes watered, an unreadable expression on her face. Somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “I knew then too. Slowly throughout the day, then all at once in one defining moment. You were like a squirrel darting around, but you never lost me. You held my hand the whole time, squeezing it when you felt me get nervous. And when we parted for even a minute, you always found me. But the moment that sealed it was when we stopped for refreshments. I couldn't drink my water properly because of my costume and seeing my struggle, without a word, you slid behind the counter, grabbed a straw and placed it in my drink, holding it to my lips. It was something so small but so considerate. I've never had anyone be so sweet to me. I never had anyone look out for me like you did. I knew you were the one for me.”

Not trusting his voice, Jake kissed the hand he held.

“I love you, Jakey.”

His heart skipped a beat. “I love you, my Angel.” The reunited couple shared another kiss before lying down. Y/N snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes. Jake wrapped his arms around her. “Would it be wrong if I copped a feel right now?”

She laughed, “I missed you so much.”

Jake blinked back tears. He thought he'd never hear that sound again. “I missed you more.”

A few peaceful minutes passed, her warm breath ghosting over his chest. He noticed she was trying to stay awake. Each time she began to drift, her eyes popped open to search for him. He rubbed her back to soothe her asleep. “I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere, Angel, I promise.” Jake made sure she was sleeping soundly, before he allowed himself to follow her into slumber.

---------------

Heading to his original room to get his belongings, Pooch was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Cougar, refusing to let Jensen and Y/N be disturbed, turned his friend around and led him to their shared room.

Pooch glanced back with a frown, “I'll guess I’ll get it in the morning.”

Cougar nodded, smiled and patted his shoulder. Tomorrow was looking like a very good day. The Loser’s would be a full team once more and his best friend would have the love of his life back. He didn’t save his best man’s speech for nothing.

The End

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all. I’d love to know your thoughts.

#jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen angst #jake jensen x you #plus size reader

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niffala · 1 year

Text

Love Me Again

Pairing: Jake Jensen & Plus-size OFC (Maisie)

Summary: Jake’s back, but the Loser’s sixth member is still M.I.A.

Warnings: fluff, angst, feels, bad attempt at humor, guns, killings, mention of memory loss, post breakup, enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a sequel to You Loved Me Once. Reader insert version found here. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

You Loved Me Once Main Masterlist

“No way man. I need a night to myself. The Pooch has earned this.”

---------------

“Eww... This guy’s got raptors picking at a bunch of bones and sinew on his property, always a good sign. You’d think he'd want to be more inconspicuous.”

Pooch’s face scrunched up at the image, “Pretty sure that's just a dead animal.”

Jake shook his head, pursing his lips in mock disapproval. “There's a lot of places to bury a body in a vineyard, all I’m saying. Keep the place tidy.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Aisha deadpanned.

“What do you call that… carrion, right?”

Clay grumbled from the front, “I'm close to calling it Jensen.”

“Yes, sir. I hear ya loud and clear. Shutting up…” he paused for dramatic effect, “now!”

---------------

Jake focused the scope of his rifle, aiming at the nearest flying pest. “Here birdie birdie…” ‘Wait. That - that’s.’ Still in disbelief, he shouted, “Guys! Guys, that's one of Maisie’s drones!”

Pooch was skeptical, “How can you be sure?”

“Cause they’re like my step kids. Franny, Freddy, Felix, Frank and Foxy. It’s been painted, but that's Frank,” he insisted before taking off, sprinting toward the assailing device.

Clay eyes widened at the other man’s actions, “Jensen, you realize it's shooting at us! Stand down!” Seeing his order ignored, he screamed at the rest of his group, “Cover his dumb ass.”

Disregarding his boss, Cougar pulled out his cellphone and spoke in hushed tones to the person on the other end.

Aisha grit her teeth at her teammate while continuing to fire at their opponents. “That idiot lost his mind, now our sniper decides to make a phone call mid battle. Are you ordering a pizza?”

“Don't forget the breadsticks,” Pooch chimed in. Laughing at the increasing absurdity of the situation.

“Understood. Our apologies. Copy that.” Cougar hung up and waited.

Cougar nodded, but walked right through the unlocked door instead. To everyone’s shock but his, it was clear. Raising his chin toward the staircase, he proceeded up them.

“Okay, so we're just following him then?”

Clay shrugged, “Good enough for me.” He had the Losers head upstairs, leaving the rest of the group to keep watch at the entrance.

Jensen scratched his head. Not knowing what to make of it. “What is going on?... Are you a T-1000… What's my dog's name?”

Cougar just looked at him and chuckled.

“You laugh, but I'm legitimately concerned.”

Clay took point, announcing his entrance into the room, “Honey, I'm home.”

“You lost, asshole. Now let them go and come quietly.” Clay slung his rifle over his shoulder and moved toward them, attempting to calmly apprehend the man.

The target pulled out a gun, shoving it into Isla’s side. “Stay where you are.”

“Don't be like that. This doesn't have to get more ugly than it already is.”

“Then drive extra carefully.” Clay smiled at the rescuees, “Let's get you both home.”

Riding in the second Humvee, Jake stared down a silent Cougar. He offered no explanation as to why Maisie's drones were on the property or who he had called, but it was pretty easy to connect the dots.

---------------

“You stare at that door any harder and it will burst into flames.” Aisha refilled her teammates' glass, encouraging him to relax and breathe.

“She'll be here soon, won't she? She's still coming, right?”

Maisie took a deep breath before entering the tavern. Her former teammates were easy to spot. Cougar gave her his number when she quit, asking her to keep in touch. It took a few months before she found the strength to do so. Even after learning of her exs' recovery, she couldn't bring herself to return yet. She wanted her Jakey back, but was scared of his rejection. Plus she was on assignment, the timing was off. The weight of this reunion wasn’t lost on her. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you losers walk into mine.”

“Well that's unfair, you walked in after us.” Grinning ear to ear, Clay pulled her into a tight hug. “Missed ya, Maise.”

However, he noticed Maisie’s smile falter when their eyes met. Abandoning his desired hug, he forced a smile, awkwardly waved and sat back down.

“Hey Jake.” She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of her old love.

As everyone took their seats, Jensen glanced at the entrance then back at his Angel. “So are we um… waiting for anybody else?”

“Like who?”

Maisie filled them in on her whereabouts since her departure. She’d gotten a job as private security for some rich asshole’s wife. Mostly involved keeping her in and others out. The winery was lovely, but the running of guns and heavier artillery, and the dabbling in human trafficking ruined the ambience. Of course, she knew he was dirty when she accepted the position, so Maisie did all she could to throw wrenches into his operations without being detected. Quietly dispersed his ill gotten gains into several hidden bank accounts, the biggest for Isla. She was helping the wife and baby prepare for a safe and covert escape. Simultaneously gathering evidence against the husband and his associates.

“It was all set to go down in a few days, and you guys just broke in and killed him. All that planning and hard work for nothing.” Maisie shoved Clay’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well it was the quickest way. Can’t argue that.”

Aisha offered compensation, “I don’t think anyone here will object if you want in on the pallet of wine we rescued."

“Bold of you to assume I didn't take my own,” Maisie laughed.

Jake wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. Putting on his most charming smile, he slid over next to Maisie. “G’day mate, fancy meeting you down unda. Maybe I can show you my down unda lata. I promise I'm koala-fied.” He tittered at his themed pickup line, but she didn't react. He desperately wanted to make her laugh. If she laughed, he knew things would be okay.

Maisie remained stiff and unsure. Wanting to give in to his flirting, but waiting for the other shoe to drop. The defeated look on Jake’s face broke her heart, so she attempted to bridge the divide with a safe topic, “How are Stephanie and Hannah?”

Her mouth dropped open, “Excuse me, I shot near you.”

“Tomato-tomahto.”

Cougar gestured with his eyes over to Jensen and Maisie, knowing he was striking out. Pooch got the hint. He called the man over and handed him his room key. Demanding he take it before he changed his mind. Jake practically ran back to the table to ask Maisie to his room to talk in private. He was amazed she agreed.

Aisha’s lips pursed watching the pair leave. “If he doesn't blow this, we'll have to put up with them being nauseatingly cute with each other again.”

“You don't want them to make up?” Clay rested his hands on her waist.

“I do,” she huffed. “Look, I don't know if I believe in that true love, princess bride, bullshit. But they are the closest I've ever seen to it... They belong together.”

“Agreed.”

---------------

The entire car ride to the motel passed in uncomfortable silence. Both anxious and unsure about the outcome of this night. Each stealing glances at the other. Jake noticed how hard her hand clenched around the steering wheel. Maisie caught sight of each time his hand reached for the radio before pulling away without turning it on.

Jake felt butterflies in his stomach as they pulled in the lot. Painful butterflies… Vampire butterflies. He drummed on his legs before hopping out of the vehicle. Maisie was quick to follow. They walked to the room without a word shared. Jake kept looking over his shoulder to make sure she was still with him. He swiped the keycard several times without success. The red light and negative beep mocking him. The twisting in his belly intensified. ‘Yep definitely vampire butterflies.’

“It's a nice room. We've stayed in much worse.” She spotted the bobblehead chihuahua on the nightstand, smiling coyly as she sat down. “So this is Pooch’s room?”

“Nah, it's mine. At least now it is.” He plopped down beside Maisie. “Sooo, how’ve ya been?”

“Good, until earlier today when I lost my job and residence cause some assholes charged in guns blazing.” Maisie sighed dramatically, “At least I can take solace in knowing Isla and her daughter are home safe. What about you?”

“I - I’m okay… most days. Um, so what's next for you? Seeing as how your life's been upended by a bunch of inconsiderate assholes.”

Maisie hummed, thinking of a response. “Well, I’ll have a lot of time on my hands, plus a bunch of money. So I'll probably make a few brothers and sisters for the F-team. Maybe one with a flamethrower.”

He turned to her with a lopsided grin. “That would be badass, like its maker.”

Maisie’s heart fluttered. He looked at her with such adoration, like she held all life's answers. That, that was her Jakey.

“Looks like the possibilities are endless now that you're homeless and unemployed.” Jake’s eyes squeezed shut, cringing. Not meaning to sound so callous.

She snorted, “I'm sure I'll be fine. I always land on my feet.”

“I'd have to move back to the states.”

“No, Angel no.” he wiped Maisie’s cheeks with his thumb. “There's nothing to forgive. You didn’t abandon me, I drove you away. I don't blame you at all. Hell, I deserved it. I was a total asshole.” Jake took a deep breath, “I was so angry… I was in pain, confused. I felt trapped with no room to breathe. Was sick of everybody telling me things I was supposed to already know. Telling me over and over to relax and let myself recover when I couldn't calm down to save my life. I kept fighting with my sister, was short with my niece, rude and snapped at everyone… And you got the worst of it… When I saw you, there was something there in the back of my mind, just out of reach. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew your presence made my headache worse. So I aimed my frustration at you and chased you off. I can't say how sorry I am.”

Maisie gently touched Jake’s head, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing small circles with her fingers. The urge to comfort him stronger than any apprehension she felt before.

She pulled her hand away too soon. “I'm glad you're better… You really hurt me, Jake, but you have to know I already forgave you.”

His eyebrows shot up, “You have? That fast? Are you certain, I mean…"

“It took some time. Months to push through that pain, but I'd be the bigger jerk if I didn't take into consideration that it wasn't completely your fault. You literally had a doctor's note to prove it.” Maisie smiled at him, brushing away a few more escaped tears.

“So you don't hate me?”

“I could never hate you, Jakey. Do you hate me?”

“Impossible.”

“It's going to continue to sting for a while though.”

“I do.”

Jake leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her back.

Maisie returned the brief kiss. This was a good start, but she was exhausted. “It’s been a long day. I don’t know about you, but I’m wiped out. Can we pretend, just for tonight, that we’re good? That everything is back to normal? We can work on us in the morning, and everyday after, but right now I just need you and unconsciousness.”

‘She wants to sleep here, in my bed, with me.’ Jake jumped up, enthusiastically agreeing. His pants down around his ankles in an instant.

Her face became heated at Jake’s sudden nudity. Maisie bit her lips, shyly telling him she was going to change in the bathroom.

Jake realized he was jumping the gun. He pulled up his batman boxers, removed his shoes and remaining clothing. He turned the toy dog around, just in case. “Sorry mini Pooch, no looky loos.”

Maisie walked out in panties and t-shirt, tugging it down in an attempt to hide more of herself as she skittered to the bed and got under the covers. Jake frowned, he needed to mend his Angel's heart, squash the insecurities he created. He scrambled up the bed, took his glasses off and sat them on the nightstand. Hesitating at the edge of the bed.

“You can come closer.”

“So am I,” Maisie admitted, lacing her fingers with his.

Jake kissed the top of her head. “I don't think I ever told you.”

“Hmm?”

Maisie’s eyes watered, an unreadable expression on her face. Somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “I knew then too. Slowly throughout the day, then all at once in one defining moment. You were like a squirrel darting around, but you never lost me. You held my hand the whole time, squeezing it when you felt me get nervous. And when we parted for even a minute, you always found me. But the moment that sealed it was when we stopped for refreshments. I couldn't drink my water properly because of my costume and seeing my struggle, without a word, you slid behind the counter, grabbed a straw and placed it in my drink, holding it to my lips. It was something so small but so considerate. I've never had anyone be so sweet to me. I never had anyone look out for me like you did. I knew you were the one for me.”

Not trusting his voice, Jake kissed the hand he held.

“I love you, Jakey.”

His heart skipped a beat. “I love you, my Angel.” The reunited couple shared another kiss before lying down. Maisie snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes. Jake wrapped his arms around her. “Would it be wrong if I copped a feel right now?”

She laughed, “I missed you so much.”

Jake blinked back tears. He thought he'd never hear that sound again. “I missed you more.”

---------------

Heading to his original room to get his belongings, Pooch was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Cougar, refusing to let Jensen and Maisie be disturbed, turned his friend around and led him to their shared room.

Pooch glanced back with a frown, “I'll guess I’ll get it in the morning.”

The End

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read. I appreciate you all. I’d love to know your thoughts.

#niffala fics #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen angst #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen #jake jensen x oc

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f-oighear · 2 months

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4, 7, 12, 17 and 25 for the Writer Ask Game 💘

Heyyyyy!

Thanks a lot for the ask 😊 Picking BC excerpts for you hehe. It's going to be a veryyyy long one so. Thankful for the cut feature. Here we go!

4. with dialogue i'm proud of

I can think of this moment in Your World where Nebra is joining the Bulls for dinner and there is a big, intimidating wall of text. I swear nothing has ever felt like an extended family dinner with several conversations happening at the same time than this:

“Take more vegetables!” “Say, captain! Can I go back on missions again?” “What about some time off?” “Keep your damn carrots!” “No. Not until you stop using ultimate magic every time you head out.” “Henry! Any progress on your magic, my man?” “Who put sugar in the salt shaker again? I’ll kill them.” “But it’s fun!” “I fucking hate carrots!” “It’s Luck.” “I-I’m not on call duty tonight…” “Carrots don’t like you either.” “LUCK.” “Where?” “Carrots like me.” “Which of my friends is on call duty tonight? Magna?”“Listen, we’re very grateful you learned ultimate magic during the war, but now it’s peace, so don’t use it to catch bandits.” “Carrots do not have feelings.” "You’re gonna accidently kill someone one day." “What about Raque? I miss the sand.” “I… think… it’s… going… great…” “I won’t! But let me go back on a mission… not a dungeon mission! A real mission!” “What’re you talking about? Nah, not me. Ask Vanessa.” “No one misses the sand.” “Nero said it, so it’s true.” “You don’t miss the sand– hang on sweetie, I heard my name. Yes?” “A watermelon, maybe, would have feelings.” “Water.” “Not me, uh… Nacht maybe?” “What’re ya using it for?” “Where’s Nacht?” “Who’s gonna deal with the body and hide it when you kill a civilian? Good ol’ me.” “How about going to the Underwater Temple too?” “Is anyone going to pass me the goddamn water?” “You’re kidding?” “I…stack…rocks…or…trees…” “Last time we went, we almost died.” “Captain, I think you’d need to tell the Wizard King about it.” “Th-There you go.” “We always almost die anyway. It’s a formality.” “Carrots must have feelings like the rest of us.” “D-Don’t say that when we’re eating them!” “Yeah yeah. I’ll see.” “Well I, for one, don’t want to die!” Besides a vague argument about carrots, Nebra was lost. So, she focused on the food.

7. that i nursed in a daydream before finally writing

ALRIGHT SO. One thing about me: I'm no visual writer. I don't see the scenes before I write them. I tend to hear them more (which is why my earlier works have very little description and more dialogue). And when I'm very lucky, I get a sentence that comes back again and again. BUT. There is a scene I saw clearly and kept going back to so I could describe it and it's very SPOILERY for the Soulmate AU. It's in I'll Follow:

“Let’s go somewhere else. I don’t want Noelle or anyone else to overhear.” They were so engulfed in their conversation that they didn’t notice how the room had gone silent around them. There was no music anymore, they had been dancing to the silence. Nozel kept his hand in Vanessa’s as he turned to look at what everyone was watching. The man was making his way through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting a glass of champagne that Nozel knew the man wasn’t going to drink, cheerily greeting all the noble guests they couldn’t not invite that seemed to be attracted to him like moths to light. Nozel’s hand went down to rest at his side, his hold on Vanessa’s hand loosening, and Nozel turned to the table right behind them, where Asta and Noelle had been sitting, happily chatting before the man’s entry. Now they were both staring at the man. Noelle’s face was white as a sheet, her eyes wide in terror. She looked petrified. Even with how far Nozel was, he could see her trembling. He wasn’t feeling better. But he had to protect Noelle. He had to protect his siblings. I can’t fail again. Not now. Nozel made his way back to the table, Vanessa’s hand still in his (he wouldn’t, couldn’t let go), her trailing behind him, and looked at Asta, who was trying to get Noelle’s attention but failing. Nozel wanted to ask him to look out for her. The magicless boy didn’t need him to ask, though. He draped an arm over his wife’s shoulders; he didn’t look calm, Noelle’s facial expression being enough for him to understand that what was happening was grave, but Asta certainly was calmer than Nozel. Their eyes met for a split second. Nozel couldn’t say a thing. He simply shook his head. I’m so sorry, Asta, Noelle, all of this is my fault. Then the man noticed them. All of them. And he smiled.

12. that has a particularly good bit of characterization

Ahhhh Nebra from the Soulmate AU, my beloved. I think. The Most Awkward Silva Dinner In A Century takes the cake. While Noelle's pov in Stargazers is triumphant, Nebra's side in Your World is so ugughhug. There is so much happening on Nebra's side and I hate that Noelle's the one paying for it again but this scene means so much to me and uhghgughh.

“So what if he’s a peasant?” Noelle retorted angrily, “That doesn’t change a thing!” “It changes everything!” Nebra shrieked back, her voice breaking. If he wasn’t a peasant I wouldn’t have to suffer like that. If he wasn’t a peasant, it would all be so much easier. If he wasn't a peasant, maybe I would've— “How dumb can you get!?” “Nebra.” Nozel tried to interject weakly. “So now suddenly you tell me I belong to that family and I don’t get to choose who I want to spend my life with? Didn’t you send me to another squad? Didn’t you shove me out? Didn’t you tell me repeatedly you didn’t want me as your sister? Which one is it? Pick one, it’s getting confusing now.” “You were never expelled from the family,” Nozel said. He was so calm about it. How could he be this calm? Did he not understand? Am I the only one here who gets it? Why am I the only one who understands? Why is everyone against me? “Might as well have been,” Noelle answered harshly. That would have been a good idea. Why hadn’t Nozel done that? After all… what had Noelle ever done for them? Nothing. What had Noelle ever sacrificed for them? I sacrificed everything. “You are a Silva and you need to start acting like one,” Nebra said harshly. “This is ridiculous. Is this your rebellious phase? At seventeen, aren’t you supposed to have grown out of that kind of behaviour?” Nebra glared down at Noelle. She would go through. She would break her. She would make her understand just how much she despises her. Now, suffer as much as I do. “So that’s how it is, uh?” Nebra continued. “You become a somewhat decent magic knight and suddenly you think you can do whatever you want? That’s not how it works. You are a royal. We don’t get to choose our partner. Why would you get to choose? Do you think you’ll get a free pass because you’re not in the Silver Eagles? Remember why you didn’t even join the family squad? Because you’re the shame of the family.” “Nebra, that’s enough.” Nozel said. I haven’t even started, Nozel. Noelle stood up and Nebra flinched. The angle was right. Noelle was smaller than Nebra– always had been, always would be– but something had changed, something that Nebra didn’t quite like. Her eyes are different. That look… “I’m done being called that,” Noelle said harshly. “I have always done everything to prove my worth to you, to our royal peers, to everyone…” Your worth? Oh yes, because you’re worth something… precious little Noelle that looks so much like mother. Can’t let anything happen to her, right? Sent to another squad… free of the burden of expectations by being the worst Silva to ever walk the earth. What about my worth? What about everything I gave up on? What about the burden that you are? What about how hard it was on the first daughter? I lost my mother and suddenly everyone expected me to become her? How can anyone compare to her? You were worth nothing so I had to be everything you couldn’t, wouldn’t be; while all you did was whine and cry and be useless. Don’t get me started on worth. You are nothing. “…I’ve proven my worth as a Magic Knight these past year and—” “Oh, you’re proving your worth now?” Hurt her. Be scathing. Make sure it stings. “By shagging a peasant?” Nebra stopped. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the peasant’s words. Be nice. “Nebra!” Nozel shouted. Shut up, Nozel. You don’t get to say a word. You traitor. You've done it twice now. You left me all alone. “How does it feel?” to give in Stop. Don’t insult her. “Is it exotic?” to finally be free Stop. Don't hurt her. …but what if I'm hurting? Then I strike back. “How does he—” “That’s ENOUGH!” Nozel shouted, slamming both his hands on the table, making plates, glasses and cutlery tremble.

17. from an unpublished WIP

Alright. I currently have a Nozessa WIP that is my main WIP besides the Angstpril WIPs. I don't know when I'll be done with it, but let me treat you to some Nozessa because it's been forever since I've written them!

From this-fic-doesn't-have-a-title-yet:

Making the batter had proved the easiest part. Vanessa had started to get a hang of cooking, and she had realized that, just as Nozel had always claimed, following the recipe did work wonders for baking. The cooking book was open next to the bowl and even if some pages were sticky with egg white, it was constantly glanced at. Well, mostly by Nozel. Baking was taking Vanessa’s mind off her recent realization, but as she worked alongside Nozel, she did find herself staring at his handsome face about as much as she was paying attention to the cooking book. That seemed a bit counterproductive. “How much is ‘a splash’?” Nozel said, squinting at the book. Vanessa raised an eyebrow and went to check the book, tracing her finger over the mention of a splash of rum. Well, she didn’t know how much a splash was, but if there was something she wanted to see again, it was tipsy Nozel Silva. “That should be about…” Vanessa grinned, tipping the bottle over. “This much.” Nozel grabbed her wrist rapidly, but not rapidly enough and the sudden grab only poured more than what Vanessa had intended. Vanessa could only burst out in laughter as Nozel, pale as a sheet, guided her hand and the bottle back to the table. Nozel stared at the bottle like it was some sort of bomb about to explode, but surely he knew it was too late. He stayed staring at the bottle an awfully long time until Vanessa decided to say something. “My, do you want to hold my hand so bad, handsome? We’re not done making that batter yet.” Nozel blinked, then quickly let go. Vanessa could hardly repress her giggle. She didn’t know if he had gotten used to the teasing or if he had let down his guard, but he seemed easier to fluster these days. The soft blush on his cheek was… cute. His cheeks beet red, Nozel pointed at the mix angrily. “That is definitely not a splash,” Nozel said. “You poured half the bottle.” “No, it’s…” Vanessa shook the bottle. She had poured more than half the bottle, but there was no need for Nozel to know that. “Barely one gla— don’t throw away the batter!” Nozel raised an eyebrow, the rest of his face completely still and expressionless as he stood in the middle of the kitchen, bowl in his hands, and stated with his usual seriousness, “It’ll be uneatable.” “We can’t know unless we finish making them… come on! Pull out a pan!”

25. that i consider a favorite

I love getting several 'your favorite' asks because hahaha I have many favorites. The Actor AU/Theatre AU is soooo self-indulgent I almost wrote it in French. I've decided that if I ever publish it, I'll include both Racine's original verses and a rough translation because, if I've never admitted it, I am absolutely in love with Racine's verses.

Anyway, I love this AU, and I love Late, in the rehearsal room:

“Yami said your family specializes in classical plays?” Asta said. “My family doesn’t exactly specialize in it,” Noelle said, turning a page from her book. “The Silver Eagles don’t play anything but Ancient tragedies or classical plays… and among the classical plays, they mostly play tragedies.” “Why?” Noelle looked down. Why? was a good question. Because it was a tradition. Because her mother, Acier Silva, a giant who played tragic heroine roles so vividly and so perfectly had made it impossible for the Silvas to be seen as anything else than perfect classical tragedy actors. Because Noelle’s father only wanted classical plays to be played. Because they were beautiful. Because they were magnificent. Because they had torn heroes who had to choose between love and power and always chose power. Because these were, for Niccolo Silva, the only plays he called ‘drama’ ; everything else was just street acting, mere vaudeville or cheap harlequin. Lower people’s entertainment. The Plebe’s Amusement. Noelle took a deep breath then said, “They just do.”

#asks-fo #black clover #bcsau #wip #bcsau spoilers #that one nozessa wip #writing asks

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hours2hours · 3 months

Text

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER FOUR

The sheet draping Toby’s corpse is the only barrier preventing a total meltdown in front of my friends. Ever since I first saw him in that cardboard box I haven’t had it in me to look at him, despite how much I’d give to see his face one last time.

Playing on the floor when I was just eleven years old, running through the streets at night, play-fighting in the park, and the very first day we got him as just a puppy. Of all the half-forgotten memories from my youth, that one has always remained crystal clear. He was sitting in my lap sleeping on the drive home, and I thought that a more perfect creature couldn’t exist. He was so tiny but had all the fight in the world in him. He was my only friend and partner in crime for years, he brought me comfort every lonely day and night, and now he’s just a corpse in a hole. I placed him down gently after Annie was finished digging, and even now, putting the dirt on him doesn’t feel right. He’s gone, yet burying him feels like I’m hurting him, like he’s just going to wake up with a mouthful of earth and worms.

I pat the earth on his final resting place and Ruby puts an arm on my shoulder. Though she was never as close to our dog as I was, I can still feel the sadness in her touch. When I look back to see the friends who showed in my time of need, I’m reminded of the real issues here. Miles was supposed to be here, right now he’s off alone and we’re all here worrying about a dog. The thought of forgetting Toby hurts so bad, but he’s gone, and Miles needs me. What’s dead is dead and should stay that way, even when it hurts like hell.

I walk away from the grave and sit in the lawn chair next to my campfire.

“Are you positive a human did it? Animal attacks in this area have gone up significantly recently.” Otto calmly chimes in.

“Only if a coyote can wield a knife,” I respond. Ruby sits next to me as I poke the fire. Our yard is a wreck, littered with remnants of a forgotten past. The fire pit is a ring of rocks inside the sand pit Ruby and I played in as kids, while old toys lay wethered and grey by years of rain and snow.

“I still think you should call the police,” Ruby says.

Annie scoffs, “Yeah, like that’ll help.”

“I don’t need the police,” I reply. “I’m gonna take care of it.”

“But that’s so stupid,” Ruby responds.

“What good would they do me anyway? Smalltown cops aren’t goddamn detectives Rube. They’ve probably got their hands full shootin’ innocent people.”

Annie cackles and raises a beer.

Ruby continues, “I know you got a criminal record, but you still need help.”

“Aren’t you behind on a hundred commissions? Mind your business.”

Ruby stands, “You better not do anything stupid, I won’t be the only surviving twin.”

“You know me. Mentally sound decisions only.”

“Strict rules in the Hawkins household,” Annie adds. “See ya later Ruby! And don’t worry, I’ll babysit your brother.” Ruby stands to leave, while Annie waves goodbye until she’s out of sight. The door shuts, and Annie leans over in her lawn chair. “Okay, down to business. Did you come up with any other leads?”

“Only Wendy, she’s the one who’d want my head the most.”

Before Otto can question the topic at hand, Miles enters the yard with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You weren’t interruptin’. Sit yourself down,” I reply.

“Sorry I’m late. Could barely convince Dad to let me leave.” Miles sits in the lawn chair next to my own. He moves close enough for our legs to touch slightly, sending a swarm of butterflies into my gut. “I thought he spent so long trying to get you out of the house,” I reply.

Annie lights a smoke and flicks one toward Miles. “You missed the depressing shit anyways.” Otto eyes the cigarette between Annie’s fingers, then Miles. “Are you doing okay?” Otto asks.

“Not really. I’d rather not talk about it, honestly. What were you saying about leads?”

“Right,” I eager to change the subject. “Wendy Anson. There’s a zealot or two in this town who’d wanna mess with me, but Wendy is the only one who’d go that far.

Miles shifts closer to me, and a smile tugs my lips. “You said you got her arrested, what happened?”

“Funny story actually,” I laugh nervously, patting the back of my head. “She used to sell me drugs, but I found out she was lacing her product for new customers.”

“Lacing?”

“Ya know, crack or whatever. It ain’t uncommon for dealers to try and get kids hooked on more expensive shit. She got a couple ninth graders hooked, one kid ODed an’ wound up in the hospital.”

“I remember that, the school held an assembly regarding drug use the next day,” Otto adds. Sometimes I forget just how little he really knows about his only two friends.

Pulling on the collar of my shirt I finish, “...so Annie an’ I busted into her house, stole her good supply, then ratted her out to the cops.”

Annie can barely contain the bellowing laughter. “Bitch got what was coming to her.” She crumples a can and cracks open another.

“Yeah, well, she got out of juvie a few months ago. If she figured out I was the one who snitched, I can see why she’d wanna fuck shit up for me. That’s not even mentioning that Aaron’s pickup spot was right next to the diner she works at.”

“Tha’s the only thing though. It seems like a really stupid obvious spot,” Annie says.

“What if she’s baiting you?” Miles adds.

“She could be, but the footage is our only lead, we need to go for it ASAP. If there’s even a chance I can find Toby’s killer I’m goin’ for it.”

“Footage?” Otto suddenly asks. Annie shoots me a wide eyed, ‘get me out of this’ look. But there’s no way I can explain last night without mentioning we kidnapped and tortured his brother.

“So uh, did you start studying for our history exam?” She laughs, switching the subject smooth as broken glass. Otto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. “We’ll go over the flipbook tonight.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” Annie nudges him in the shoulder.

Miles stares into his phone, face scrunched into a frown. From the way he constantly wraps strands of grass through his fingers, to the melodic tap of his foot, Miles’s stress is worse than I’ve seen. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but now I feel so useless. “Looks like I should be going,” he mumbles.

“Already?” Annie asks.

“Dad says the police came back, they want to ask me more questions.”

As if things had to get worse. “Here, I’ll walk you home,” I stand.

“Dad’s already here. Guess I’ll see you later.” Miles slowly walks to the front of the house, lingering at the gate.

“I hope Miles is okay,” Otto states. A car door opens, then closes, and he’s gone.

Annie cracks open another drink, “Well if I were him I’d be freaking the hell out. Did you guys hear all that crap around school today? People think he killed his own brother.”

“There isn’t enough evidence to be certain one way or another,” Otto adds.

“It’s horseshit,” I burst. “Mobbing idiots. Acting like they know everything about someone they've never met.”

Annie and Otto look at me wide-eyed, Annie’s eyebrow more knowing than I like.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Otto asks suddenly.

“You’ve been coming here for two years now.”

Otto squeezes Annie’d hand before inside my house. I know my outbursts make him uncomfortable, but this time I don’t care. I can’t stand mob mentality, I can’t stand people hurting someone who’s world is crashing left and right as we speak. I’m loudly tapping my foot on the rocks while Annie lights another cigarette with a huge grin on her face.

“What?” I ask more defensively than I mean to.

“Nothing,” she smiles.

“I’m worried about Miles 'cause he’s my friend.”

“Right, and like a mentally sound person, you responded accordingly.”

“God, shut up. Stop assuming I want every guy I meet now.”

“I’m just saying. You’re pretty quick to jump to the defense of someone you’ve barely known a year. What if he did kill Mateo? What if Miles is torturing him in his basement as we speak?”

“Just stop, okay? He’s not even…” I stop myself, struggling to force the word out of my mouth.

“You can say the G word. I know a lot of people in this town will wanna crucify you for it but it’s just us.”

“I’m just worried.”

#writing #creative writing #novel #gay #lgbt #mystery #thriller #trans #writing inspiration #lgbtq

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dxckgrxsonx · 2 years

Note

thinking about verbally teasing Dick as much as he does to you.

Maybe while he is fucking you from behind you are whimpering and grabbing the sheets so he goes "You are such a baby, I'm going to stop because you can take it" thinking you are going to whine and fuck yourself on his cock when he stops, instead you look over your shoulder and go "When did you start?". my boy would sNAP.

anyways I love you writing

Pairing - Dick Grayson X (F) Reader Words - 1.4k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Swearing - Degradation- Rough Sex - Choking - Multiple Orgasms - Hair Pulling - Begging - Mean!Dick - No plot, just porn. Notes - wHO gave you the right to say this to me?? How dare you put this image in my godawful brain. You’re so right, he would absolutely snap and make you regret saying it 😵‍💫 I’m about to explode hHhhh.

You think you’re going to tear a hole through the bedsheets. Fingers white-knuckled around the fabric and aching. There’s something keening and desperate swirling through your veins–something hot and alive under your skin. All the muscles along your back are tight and flexing as you struggle to form a coherent thought. You think you’re going to snap in half.

The only words echoing around in your skull are, Dick, Dick, Dick.

It’s almost criminal how he manages to switch your head off, turn it to the soft static of a dead TV channel and wring every last drop of pleasure from your body simultaneously.

You think it’s a talent, maybe halfway to a goddamn curse.

Face down ass up on the bed you think you’re ready to touch the edge of time itself, vision blurring black at the edges when Dick smooths his rough hand down your trembling spine–along the pretty arc of your back–to settle at the nape of your neck.

Flexing his hips he forces the last few inches of his cock into your cunt, moaning under his breath when your walls clamp around him like a wet fist. With his free hand he grabs your waist, your hip, the delicious curve of your ass, rocks you back on his length until you’re flush to his hips.

Holding you down with one hand he almost pulls out, leaving just the fat, leaking head of his cock in your slick hole. You whine, long and low, hips pushing back to try and get him inside you again. Dick chuckles, if you close your eyes you can see the pretty line of his mouth, see the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips—it’s infuriating, you want to swing it back around on him, take the control he has over you and wield it like a weapon.

“Please.” You gasp, writhing under his firm grip. “Dick, please.” You’re leaking around his cock, wetness dripping slowly onto the sheets below. Your face is burning, he’s never done this before, made you wait. Your shoulders flex as you twist your fingers in the sheets, a frustrated moan tumbling from your mouth. “Stop being so mean.”

Curling his fingers around his cock, Dick strokes himself from base to almost tip, “You know, I’d take you more seriously if you weren’t this fucking wet. I mean, baby, you’re literally dripping. Maybe I should jerk off just like this and come in your leaky pussy without giving you anything else, huh?” He muses and you shake your head, thighs trembling.

“No please–oh god–just…Dick please s’not fair.” Shushing you gently–mockingly–he hooks his thumbs under the swell of your ass and spreads your cunt apart, watches your swollen clit twitch as your own slick dribbles over it.

Grabbing you by the waist he thrusts forwards, hard and fast and utterly perfect. The thick girth of him stretches you open, walks the fine line between pleasure and pain and you’re ready to cry from it.

Gasping wetly you choke out broken moans, each harsh thrust forcing a needy wail from between your lips. Dick keeps you spread apart so he can watch the way his cock sinks into you, can watch how each time he pulls out he’s wetter than before, length shiny and slick. The sight is almost enough to make him empty his balls then and there, makes him want to bury himself in your sweet cunt and come until it’s leaking out of you.

Trembling underneath his firm body your knees shake, every muscle tense and threatening to collapse underneath you. Dick notices of course, he’s always tuned in, even when he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t mind that he notices, hell, it makes you even wetter knowing that he’s so tuned into your body that he recognises each little tell it gives away. You do, however, hate that he uses it against you.

“You’re such a fucking baby.” He mutters, pulling all the way out and leaving your cunt clenching on nothing. “I’m going to have to stop fucking you because you just can’t take it.”

Your reaction is reflective, you wonder if he’s managed to switch off your verbal filter. Or more likely, you want to tease him as much as he does you, even though your pussy is weeping for his cock.

“When did you start?”

The Earth holds its breath and you feel the air around you crackle violently, in the back of your head, you wonder if he’s holding his escrima sticks. The crackle feels a lot like electricity, almost like being struck by lightning.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair Dick wrenches you upwards until your back is flush to his sweaty chest. Your hands fly to your head with a startled cry, shaking fingers trying to dislodge his grip but he’s too strong, too unyielding.

“Excuse me?” He hisses, low and dark and threatening in your ear. His other hand snakes up your chest, fingers resting over your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, waiting. “You wanna say that again?”

Your mouth quirks up at the edges, thrilled at the reaction. Opening your mouth to speak, Dick suddenly tightens his hand around your throat, cutting your words off into a garbled moan. All the blood in your body rushes to your head, you feel drunk, giddy, nervous and so turned on you feel like you could come just like this, with nothing more than his hand around your neck.

“You’re such an ungrateful slut. Here I am, fucking you nice and hard, making you so wet you’re drenching my sheets and you go and say something like that.” His voice makes you quake, there's something dangerous lingering between his words. He’s too calm, too controlled. Relaxing his fist you suck in a breath and the rush of oxygen has you shaking. “M’gonna make you regret saying that, baby.”

His tone is dark and suddenly, you want to apologise.

Pushing you face down on the bed Dick shoves the full length of his throbbing cock into your pussy, the slick slide of him giving you something to clamp down on. A gasp heaves up your throat when he pulls back only to push forwards again, setting a punishing pace that has you mewling and clawing at the sheets around you in desperation.

The fat head of his cock brushes over that soft, sensitive spot inside you and you can’t help it, you come.

“I can’t believe you.” Dick snarls, not once faltering as you clamp down around him and start sobbing. “Cumming on my cock like a greedy slut after what you said. You don’t even deserve to come, baby. Don’t even deserve to be fucked.”

“M’sorry,” You cry, “Please, I’m sorry.”

Grabbing you by the hair he drags you up, presses you against his chest and keeps going. The new angle has your eyes fluttering shut, slick running down the inside of your thighs. Reaching behind your head with one hand you try to touch Dick, try to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull.

But he doesn’t let you.

Keeping one hand in your hair he uses the other to wrench your wrist behind your back. Holding it firm, Dick pushes it up the middle of your back until the discomfort makes you whine, tears burning at the back of your eyes.

Huffing out a laugh he presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, “Don’t bother apologising now, baby, it’s not going to make a difference.” Untangling his hand from your hair he reaches around your hip and finds your clit. Circling it with his fingers he shoves your wrist higher up your back when you squirm and thrash against him, trying to flinch away. “Am I fucking you now? Or is this still not enough for you?”

“Dick…oh–fuck! M’sorry, please, it’s enough–I swear, it’s enough.”

“I don’t know, baby. M’not convinced.” Ripping a second orgasm from your trembling body he groans as you clamp and throb around him, clit twitching against the pads of his fingers.

“S’too much, I can’t.” You heave, breath coming out in fractured pants.

“Be quiet.” Dick grunts, continuing to play with your swollen, oversensitive clit. “You’ll take what I give you and be fucking thankful for it.”

You’ve decided it’s a curse. Definitely a curse.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson smut drabble #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson smut #ending for this wasn't my best #sorry!!#anon I love you #asks #answered #ella writes

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

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into it | k. bakugou

➳ tags ;; smut, praise kink (so much praise kink),d/s undertones, dumbification fem!reader, unprotected, mild dacryphilia (what else do we expect lol), pro-hero!katsuki

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; my period came n it’s My Day so im posting this. sorry if i’m a little rusty! i haven’t written any nsfw since like? march.

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He know he’s spoiled you rotten.

He knows this fact better than anyone else in the entire world. It didn’t matter how obvious it was to others, he knew it and he knew it well. The way Bakugou Katsuki finds himself stuck by your side leaves him with more questions and answers. He’s developed quite the habit of listening to your every word, clinging off your little attention and praise like it was more important than anything else.

In a way, it was. That feeling he gets in his stomach, the pride in his chest when you bat long lashes at him and say “katsuki” the way only you ever could. You’ve got a grip on his being like nothing else. The world could be falling apart but he knows in his head he would be worrying about his baby.

He knows he’s in love and he’s strong enough to admit it. But there’s a difference between being in loved and being whipped beyond belief or comparison. He’s indefinitely the latter.

He’s whipped out of his fucking mind. It’s ridiculous and gets more ridiculous as the days pass. The way he pours so much energy into leaving you spoiled and sated. He was always the asshole, the tough guy - but these days he questions himself for just how soft he’s gone.

For you and only you. If anyone else had half the attitude you had with him, he’d probably rock their shit. With you, he merely sighs - grabs your face with strong hands and goes “why you bein so bratty huh?” until you’re confessing all your sins to him. It’s a religion of sorts, practice of worship. If you’re an altar, Katsuki feels like follower. Disobedience to your desires has always felt like sacrilege.

Bakugou knows he spoils you too much. You’re not much for material but when it comes to time and attention, he’s always making room for you. Sits you in his lap while he works as long as you behave (lets you stay even if you don’t). Comes home to you. Doesn’t go out unless he’s sure you won’t be lonely.

You didn’t particularly ask for any of it. You’re eager to let him be, but him? He seethes at the idea you’re getting your daily dose of love from anyone else. Turn his blood hot under his skin, makes his mind feel like it can’t sit still.

So you’re spoiled rotten whether you like it or not. Bakugou would be damned if anyone came near you with the intentions of what he always intends too.

You’re spoiled, to put it plainly. But Bakugou can’t say he hates it, no matter how much he tries

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“Such a spoiled fuckin’ brat, huh?,”

You shake your head, but your voice trembles in your throat when you try to reply. With the way Bakugos got your legs pinned, a hand resting on your navel with two fingers in your cunt, it’s hard to think at all. You squirm out of his reach, away from him. Everything in your body feels like it’s trembling and the pressure in your body has you dizzy and aching.

Your clit is swollen from what feels like hours of stimulation. His mouth latches onto the swollen nerves, and goes and goes - matches the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of you. Every movement makes you twitch - an aching fever in your core. It’s almost painful - completely overwhelming. Bakugous determination leaves little room for error.

“Ngh, I don’t ― aah, don’t mean to be”

He chuckles a little at that. You can feel it reverberate against your body. When your eyes flutter open to see him between your legs, you’re sure you’re gonna cum again right away. Bakugou fucks you open with two fingers then three - stretches you out till your nice and soft. It makes you feel gooey, cum and saliva pooling onto once stain-less sheets.

“Katsuki, ‘s enough, please - enough,”

“Not enough baby,” he bites your thigh with sharp canines, red eyes boring into yours “Gotta be a good girl ‘n give one more. Spoiled fuckin’ brats gonna take all of it, aint she?”

You let out something half-way between a whine and a whimper. The muscles in your thighs ache from holding still so long - from shaking. Your eyes roll up till there’s only white. Fuck you’re cumming again. How many times is it now? You can’t remember.

It aches. Your cunt like a play-thing against the wet muscle, thick fingers that stretch you much wider than you thought possible before. He gives and gives and gives - and you take like the spoiled and greedy brat you are. When he ruins your pretty pussy into stuttered, breathless and raggedy orgasm - you take it all so greedily.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cream on my fingers, princess,” and he grunts, uses his free hand to jerk his cock. It’s stiff enough to hurt, the ache in his balls unbearable. But he’s gotta get you nice and sloppy - he likes to give it to you all in one go after all.

Your brain feels like it’s melting, mouth dropped own and drooling. Katsuki is always so mean but not with you. With you, he’s whispering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin and biting claim into the flesh. You let him melt you into whatever shape he likes with the promise he’ll hold you through it.

“Gone and fucked you real stupid, huh?”

There’s an unmistakable affection in his words that makes you screw your eyes tight enough it hurts. Tears prick your lashes as another orgasm rips through - shreds you to pieces.

“Katsuki”

You hold your arms out for him, needing to cling - and he lets you like he always does. You kiss him desperately, tongue searching for desperate reprieve as he drags sticky fingers up to your mouth. You can feel his cock slide between your folds, heady heavy and throbbing against your clit.

It’s so, so hot. It’s molten, your brain and stomach turned to complete fucking mush. You whine again - loud into his mouth.

“Clean ‘em good or you’re not getting my cock”

You nod dumbly. His fingers slide down your throat, touch your tongue and stretches your mouth out.

“Haah,” he chuckles against your throat “So fuckin’ messy, huh? Your mouth and your pretty little pussy are so fuckin’ soaked for me, aint they?”

“Yeah, yeah - ‘s f’r you”

“All for me?”

You nod with his fingers in your mouth, smiling like you’ve won the fucking lottery as you look him in the eyes. So obedient and pretty and good. His dick aches.

“Mhm”

He has you pinned so easily underneath, grunting as your knees are brought to your ears. You yelp as he bends over you, sliding his cock against your clit - fucking right between as he looks at your desperate face. Your eyes gone hazy as you watch his cock almost catch on your hole but never quite hitting.

“’tsuki, hngh - please”

You’re distraught. So fucking spoiled - you’re in delirium begging for his dick. You need him so bad you don’t know anything other than digging your nails into his biceps and begging over and over and over.

“Fuck ― fuckin’ take this dick baby, shit”

Your brain turns to static when you feel him fill you up in one fluid motion. Katsuki is thicker than he’s big, stretches you so good you scream silently. Strong hips that make you ricochet right into the bed with each thrust, you can feel yourself cream over him. It’s humiliating.

He rolls your clit between his thumb and forefinger as he pistons you. Your body jerks so violently you almost lose hold - but Bakugou placates you with a tongue in your mouth. Kisses you messy with teeth and tongue - so salacious it has your cunt fluttering. His muscular body pins you to the bed, leaves you helpless and open wide for him to take.

Bakugou’s spoiled you so he knows how you need, knows how to make you cum even when you’re so fucked out you can’t feel the air in your lungs.

He french kisses you because he knows that’s how you like it - his spoiled, obsessive angel that can’t quite get enough of him. He knows just how your mouth likes to be occupied, knows just what nerves to hit.

“C-Cumming!”

Bakugou drops his forehead on your shoulder, mouth enveloping yours. He doesn’t say anything but his fingers grip into the fat of your thigh. You can feel him in your stomach, in your cevix

Bakugou cums in you hot and heavy and thick. He groans into your mouth - jaw tense and brows taught when he fucks his load into until it’s all mixed together.

His eyes open to check on you, his baby. Your eyes are red and puffy with tears - but you’re smiling lazily. Scheming. He squints

“What the fuck is it, brat?”

“.. You’re only gonna give me one?”

Goddamn it.

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#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #bakugou imagines #bakugou imagine #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha imagines #spice cake

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sugarylawliet · 3 years

Note

In Death Note, you know the part where the L placed spy cams everywhere within Yagami’s house?

What if Light and his girlfriend start doing the deeds to look like normal hormones teens?

YES OMG i’ve actually thought of this before so i’m so glad someone requested it LMFAO

> warnings: swearing, smut, degradation, sir kink, kind of exhibition??

Light tossed his backpack onto his bed, loosening his red tie before collapsing onto the bed himself, letting his exhaustion express itself in the most natural way he thought possible. It’s hard to act natural when you’re being watched; you almost forget every aspect of your daily routine, putting excessive thought into typically mindless tasks like walking around your house or laying on your bed to the point of obviousness.

“Light, wanna play video games?” Ryuk asked, standing before the boy.

Light fell back onto his bed, placing his hands behind his shoulders with a deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the performance he’d have to put on. How could he ignore Ryuk without giving off reactions to the shinigami’s words, tilts of the head or instinctive hums of agreement that could incriminate himself in a matter of seconds.

“You listening? Hello?”

Light only ignored him, grabbing a long beige coat from the closet before heading outside, Ryuk following close behind.

“Hey, Light, what’s with the brushing off? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

He popped his collar and rolled up his sleeves, checking meticulously for any bits of wire or chips of plastic that could be audio bugging him.

“Light! Hey!” Ryuk wined.

“There might be secret hidden cameras around the house,” The brunette broke the silence, his voice in a slightly raspy lowered tone, almost a whisper, “Or microphones, probably both.” He explained, going on to detail his clever methods of finding out if someone had been in his room- or if someone had opened his door, at least.

“Let’s go on a camera hunt! You got a plan after that?” Ryuk asks.

“Simple, make it seem like I have no idea the cameras are even there, and that I’m just a normal teenager. I’ll probably need some excuse for why I have that paper and lead in my door, they’ll want to know why I don’t want anyone in my room, what I’m hiding, and if the footage reveals I’m hiding absolutely nothing, that’ll look even more suspicious. Every teenager has secrets.”

“So what’ll you do?”

“You’ll see.”

_______________________________

“This feels objectifying, Yagami.”

You walk down the street leading to your boyfriend’s house, accompanied by the man himself as he explains his, quite frankly, pervy plan.

“Objectifying? We have sex all the time, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but nobody plans out when they’re gonna fuck. It’s just weird.”

“Hey,” Light stops walking, facing towards you as he gently lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger. The feeling made you melt, and he knew that very well. The way Light held your face and looked at you like you were the only thing on earth felt exhilarating, he could tell you anything in that position and you’d believe it. And that’s just what he does, constantly. “This is not an option, this isn’t personal business. This is about Kira. This is going to throw suspicion off me, okay? Do it. For me.”

You sighed deeply. He had you the moment he held your chin like that. “And there won’t be any explicit footage of us? There won’t be a camera like, right there?”

“I don’t know where all the cameras are, but there aren’t many like that in my room at all, we’ll be safe.” He lied, a practice that came so easily to him he no longer viewed it as morally wrong. It was just something he did, like going to school and eating dinner or doing homework, he also lied.

“Okay.” You agreed with a smile, prompting him to release his grasp on you and continue the walk home.

“I didn’t realize he went through such great lengths...might there be something in his room that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Soichiro Yagami remarked, watching Light fiddle with the thin strip of paper in the doorway and the piece of lead in the hinges as you stood patiently behind him.

“Well, considering he’s 17, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.” L responds, “I am a bit curious, though, as to what he’s hiding so admently.”

You enter Light’s bedroom with him, shutting the door behind you as you watch him toss his bag down besides his bed.

“Y/N, are you scared of me?” He turns to face you.

“Hm? Why would I be.”

“L, the best detective in the world, thinks I’m Kira when I’m not.”

Oh, Light.

“He makes me out to be some kind of monster,” He continues, “I’m worried you’ll start to believe him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Huh?”

Before you could register his comment, Light lunges for you, tossing you onto his bed before tickling your stomach and sides.

‘L-Light! St-stop! Please!” You cried between giggles.

“Make me.”

Understanding, you connect your lips to his, causing his hands to rub up and down where he previously tickled you. You moaned into the kiss as Light pushed harder into it, his desperation showing. You wished he would take his time, but you knew the real reason you were here. His hands slid down to your lower half, pushing his hand inside your pants and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist reflexively. He let out a chuckle.

Impatiently, he stood up straight, unbuttoning your pants before slipping them completely off along with your panties, leaving you in only your t-shirt on his bed.

“I figured,” L sighed, “You can close your eyes if you’d like, Yagami-san, but I’m afraid I need you here for legal purposes.”

Light crouched down onto the floor, lifting your legs to lay bent on his shoulders. Teasingly, he licked a line down your slit, earning a gasp from you. He straightened himself out again, moving towards your face. “L is watching,” He whispered, his hot breath on your ear, “Put on a show.” He smirked.

Watching? Had Light lied?

Light lowered himself back down to push his tongue inside you. His tongue wriggled around, exploring your walls with lust.

“Oh, Light” You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You knew L, you knew the whole task force for that matter. Your face flushed with embarrassment imagining any of them reviewing this footage and hearing your moans. Hell, Light’s dad worked with L, he could be watching for all you knew.

You jolted at the sudden sting of Light smacking your thigh with an open palm. “Don’t hold back, angel, and don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear all your pretty moans.” He said, removing himself from your core before pressing his lips almost to your ear again, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I want L to see how good I make you feel. Got it?”

You faintly nodded before he returned to your heat, dipping his tongue inside once again while his thumb felt your clit, rubbing it in circles. You knot your fingers through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to your pussy with a moan. He sped up his actions, practically abusing your clit while his tongue hit your g-spot, curling sightly upwords inside of you.

“Fuck, Light, I can’t, I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulled away, leaving you edged and wanting more. You pouted, sticking your lip out with a whine. Light, having none of it, roughly raked his hand through your hair, forcing you up close to his face by your scalp. “You listen to me.” He growled, the heat of his breath warming your face, “No whining, and no disobeying. Got that?” He yanked your hair with the last syllable for emphasis. You let out a weak “Mhm.”

He shoved you to the bed chest-first by your hair, never letting his fingers leave your locks.

“Ass up.” He commanded, you obliged slowly, legs feeling a bit sore from him eating you out.

Hastily he unbuckled his belt before folding it in half, smacking your ass with it leaving a slight red mark. “When I tell you to do something, you do it quickly.”

“Yes Light.”

You yelped as he smacked you again with the belt in the same place, the stinging leaving your ass feel like it was burning.

“Yes who?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed his khakis fully down before aligning himself with your entrance, rubbing his head up and down your slit teasingly.

“Sir please...” You begged.

“Please what? Say it.”

“Please, please fuck me sir. I want your cock, please.”

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.” Light slid himself into you with a groan. Slowly, he rocked himself into you.

“F-faster, please sir. Faster.” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets.

Light obliged right away, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask for it. He quicked his speed, pounding into you mercilessly. He licked his lips, relishing in the loud slew of moans and curses spilling from your mouth as he fucked you.

“Look at you, you fucking slut. Begging for me to go faster. You’re so goddamn desperate for my cock, you dirty whore.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, though degrading, the fact that Light liked you at all made you feel worth something. Light Yagami, Kira, the god of the new world, liked you. Though you’d never admit it to the stubborn boy, he could say almost anything to you, about you, and you’d still love him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He knotted his fingers back into your hair for stability as he thrusted into you even faster, burying himself deep into you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Light- sir, it’s so good.” You cried, feeling your orgasm creeping up once again. “I’m gonna...”

“Do it, come for me angel.” He encouraged, bringing his free hand up to play with your clit. The stimulation sent you over the edge. “Oh fuck, oh my god, fuck you feel so good.” You came loudly, only a little before Light did as well.

L watched Light collapsed beside you on the bed, only the sound of your breathless pants escaping the monitor. “Uh, they’re done, Yagami-san. You can...open your eyes again. Honestly, this security footage may be useless now, at the very least we cannot bring it to court, considering your son and his girlfriend are both 17. Perhaps this was his plan along.”

“You’re saying this makes you more sure he’s Kira?!” Soichiro raised his voice.

“Well, it definitely raises my suspicions.”

Light finally stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans. Before you could pull your bottoms back up, he picked up your panties from the floor, playfully spinning them around his index finger. “You won’t be missing these, will you?” He asks sarcastically, tossing them into the drawer in his bedside table.

“Ah, so that’s what he’s hiding. A valid excuse to not want family in your room but... unexpected, to say the least.” L remarked, still somehow watching the cameras.

#i feel like im bad at writing smut bye #consider this a present for light’s bday #light yagami x reader smut #light yagami x reader #death note #death note x reader #death note smut #L lawliet #light yagami

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

A Fireman & His Dalmatian {Adam Sackler x Reader}

@spookyyslutt

Bae saw ur requests were open and im a slut for Halloween As my @ suggests 🗿 Anyways I'd LUV ur take on going to a Halloween party with Sackler and him getting handsy while dancing before fucking you sensless in an empty room👀The poor soul that has to clean up Sacklers mess 💀

I had a ton of fun with this one lol!! enjoy, my friend :)

warnings. SMUT, humor, frat party things, grinding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, p in v, barebacking/unprotected sex, creampie.

(possible) tw’s. *very* heavy pda, public smut.

word count: 1.4k

Surrounded by drunk-off-their-asses college kids, you and Sackler sway with the rhythms of the upbeat dance song currently blaring through the speakers. Somehow, you ended up at this frat halloween party, thinking it’d be as fun as it was when you were both in college.

It was much less fun as a mature adult, for the record, but Adam always makes things fun. Just being with him is automatically a precursor of fun, so you’ve learned after several years of being with him.

This year, the two of you did a joint couples costume, him going as a shirtless fireman and you’re his Dalmatian, clad in a scanty little spotted dress with a fake tail on the back.

In true Sackler fashion, he’s been grabbing at your ass and pulling at your fake tail, whispering silly innuendos in your ear, like “Gonna fuck my sexy Dalmatian so fucking hard tonight” or “You were such a good girl today at the station, I think you deserve a little treat” all night long.

As the dynamic between you two heats up on the dance floor, the whispers and touches become bolder. His hands now forcefully paw at your hips as his pelvis presses roughly into your backside, breath hot in your ear.

“Puppy, my slutty little puppy...” He purrs in your ear, grunting softly when he thrusts forward. “You look so fuckin’ sexy tonight, been wanting to put my cock in you ever since you put that goddamn dress and tail on.”

You whine softly, circling your hips and pressing back even more against him. His lips curl up into a smirk, landing a harsh smack on your ass cheek.

“You’re gonna get fucked so hard tonight, puppy, mmm...gonna bend you over and drill you 'till your eyes cross.”

His hand suddenly wraps around your thigh, lifting it up onto his ready leg before tracing your clothed center with his middle finger. He growls lowly into your ear when he feels how hot you are already, hips thrusting violently against your ass.

“A-Adam, god, I--we--”

He presses down on your clit, causing your breath to hitch as your hips jump against his leg.

“Shit.”

“Mmm, what was that, pup? Didn’t quite catch it.”

You huff. “We ssshouldn’t be doing this h-here, too many people.”

“What, you don’t want all these horny frat guys to see what a little slut you are for me, puppy?” His tone is teasing, tantalizing as his fingers slip beneath your panties. “You don’t want them to watch you fall apart on my fingers, hm?”

Your eyes widen when you feel him prodding around at your soaked entrance, legs instinctively closing.

“Adam, oh my god, we’re literally in the middle of the dance floor right now.”

He smirks, chuckling in your ear. “So? You’re still gonna be my little slut no matter where we are, pup.”

You can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips at his husky words as they echo in your ear. His fingers suddenly press up into your entrance and you groan, head falling back against his shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Mmm, nice and tight for me, puppy.” He mumbles in your ear, scissoring and stroking inside you. “Mmm, and wet, too. So ready for my cock already, barely need anything to get you there, hm?”

You whine, hips bucking against him as he starts to fuck his digits and out of you at a rapid rate of speed. Your hips start bouncing gently on him, noises growing louder with each movement of his fingers.

“God, fffuck Adam...”

Adam grunts, now fully thrusting against your backside, cock straining up against the confining denim of his blue jeans. With your cunt wrapped so tightly around his fingers and his cock so goddamn hard, he’s practically foaming at the mouth to get you bent over and on his rod.

He pulls his fingers away abruptly and before you have time to complain, he’s scooping you up and rushing you to the nearest empty bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He’s throwing you down on the stiff mattress top before jumping on himself, pinning you to the surface. You barely get a breath in before his lips are attacking yours with hungry, desperate kisses.

“Lick me, pup, lick my neck like a fuckin’ dog.”

Oh Sackler, what a lovable weirdo, you think to yourself as you start lick at his neck. He groans, hips wildly bucking into you now as he flips you over roughly and yanks you up on all fours.

One hand tugs your dress up over your hips while the other desperately works to undo the button on his jeans. You’re wiggling your ass teasingly and he grunts in frustration, smacking your ass hard.

“Quit it, fuckin’ slut. Can’t fuckin’ focus on getting my goddamn cock out when you’re jiggling your fucking ass.”

You can’t help but giggle at his words. This earns you another harsh smack before he’s pulling his jeans down and tugging your panties to the side.

He scrambles to line himself up with your entrance, and as soon as he does, he’s thrusting in with a grunt.

“Fuuuuck pup, fffuckin’ little cunt.”

Your eyes widen before squeezing shut, jaw slacking. “Oh shiiiiit, baby.”

His hips immediately pick up a quick pace, skin slapping and squelching together. He digs his fingertips into your flesh, fucking you with all the force he can muster in this moment.

“Gonna w-wreck your fucking pussy.” He growls, pinning your head to the mattress with his hand. “Split you rrright open, right in fuckin’ h-half.”

You’ve been reduced to mere gasps and whines, body rocking back and forth violently with each of his sharp thrusts.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm! Fffuck, Adam!”

He’s fucking you so hard by now you can barely see straight, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll back into your skull.

“C’mon, pup, beg for it!” His voice is simultaneously low and loud, a deep rasp tainting his words. “Beg me to stuff my fat load in your fffuckin’ dirty, s-sloppy cunt!”

You whine loudly, drooling onto the sheets below. “P-Please baby! Please stuff me full, wwwanna be leaking when you’re done with m-me!”

Sackler grins, chuckling as he bends down to get closer to your ear.

“Oh trust me, pup, you will be.”

It doesn’t take much longer before he’s teetering on the edge of climax, the pace of his hips becoming rushed and sloppy as he becomes lost in his own pleasure.

He reaches around, fingers fumbling until they find your clit. After just a few circles, he’s got your thighs trembling and your knees quaking, bringing you right up to the edge of orgasm right alongside him.

“Ohhh baby, ohhh A-Adam!” Your eyebrows are pinned at the center of your forehead. “Gonna cum!”

“Yeah d-do it!”

His hips shift ever so slightly before pistoning into you even harder and this new angle allows him to rub up against both your clit and your g-spot, which sends you hurdling over the edge within moments.

Feeling your walls pulsing and spasming around him, tightening with climax has him careening into orgasm seconds after you. He buries each drop of himself deep inside you, keeping his hips pressed forward until he collapses next to you on the bed.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your highs side-by-side. You look over at him with a small grin, hand smoothing over his sweaty chest.

“Did we really just screw our brains out on some frat kid’s bed?”

He laughs, giving your hip a playful smack. “Hell yeah we did, puppy.”

The two of you laugh together as you sit up and situate yourselves, heading back out to the party soon after.

--- Later that night...

Chad can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he heads up to his room, dodging all the wasted partygoers. He just had an amazing first date with a girl from Kappa and he really can’t wait for the next one.

Nothing could possibly tamper his spirits tonight, not even the huge party currently happening in the house. He pushes his bedroom door open, immediately hit with the recognizable odor of sex.

He pauses in the doorway when he flips on the lights, staring in awe at the mess on his bed that certainly wasn’t there when he left. His navy blue sheets are wrinkled and stained with both white and dark mystery stains.

His nostrils flare, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before he spins around and storms down the hall.

“Jaaaaaaaaaaake!”

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

#bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #sub bakugou #sub bnha #ლ; blasphemy #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚

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chocolateheart · 3 years

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

ascendance - 01

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

SUMMARY: she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a misunderstanding dooms her to a life as an ascendance card under the watch of the executer.

A/N: i’m so excited to go back to my mob writing roots with this one. there’s a bit of a few twists and changes to the traditional mob writing i’ve done before and i am really excited to be sharing chapter one with you. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER

The ambience was dark, badly lit by the yellow flickering lights in the halls with echoes of the buzzing of the hot old light bulbs. There was no sound but that buzz and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the rotting wood floor boards. The scent in the air was putrid, a mix of what seemed like life meeting its end stage, cheap cider and weed. It was definitely different and he didn’t trust it.

At the end of the corridor there it was. 107. The 107th flat in purgatory with the door slightly opened. He pushed the door open, the smell getting more intense and his boots sticky with the liquor spilled on the floor.

- What did you do? - each word was punctuated with intense disbelief, as if this was all a nightmare.

- Bucky, help me!

PRESENT

The wind brushed and pulled her hair into different directions as she stepped off the train’s step. She rushed through the streets of New York, hair pin stuck in the middle of her teeth as she fought the winds to try and set her hair into an appropriate hair do while running down the street at the same time. The chattering people and the sun peaking through the clouds was hopeful as she grabbed her coffee from the same vendor off the side street as her eyes gazed upon the Metropolitan Opera House which had been gracing the New York landscape for longer than she had been on this earth and now she was part of it, she was a small speck in an almost 60 year long history.

Her smiled widened as her sneakers hit the pavement, eyes gazing over the fountain and the flags of the production coming down from the opera house’s arches. The same production she was part off. Sure, she was a chorus girl but the mere thought of singing on that stage, of watching that public in those red velvet seats under the chandelier just made it all more exciting. She walked inside the theatre through the stage door, meeting the manager at the door.

- Hi. - she leaned her hands against the desk where the manager was surrounded by attendance and cast sheets as well as a big laptop shining a blue light onto her face. The woman didn’t even look up, instead putting up a board with the names of all people in the production in front of her. - Do you need to see my ID?

- Just sign in front of your name.

Y/N giddily looked at the list of names, hers closer to the bottom but there, written in bold Arial font. She signed her name in front of her printed one with the barely working pen, before pinning it over the board and handing it over to the manager who pointed inside the opera theatre. She held onto her gym bag harshly, padding the sublime floors and looking around with such wonder one would believe she’d never been here. She’d been here before, she was here every month to watch a performance but now she was not guest, she was not just another person walking in with a ticket, she was part of it, she was part of the show. After years of doing community plays, workshops and failed auditions, she had gotten here and suddenly all those days spent in bed feeling miserable in bed after getting rejected yet again didn’t matter anymore she was here.

Her eyes glanced at every tiny little ornament in the opera house until she entered the theatre room. Her heart filled with joy and happy nostalgia as the red and golden tones of the room involved her. There wasn’t anyone in the theatre yet except for a few musicians from the instrumental pit and some cleaners so she was free to roam around. Her fingers traced the suede velvet of the red seats, finding a few missing binoculars on the grounds but not really caring.

- You! - she whipped her head towards the voice which came from a woman, probably in her mid 40s all dressed in black with a gold name tag slightly above her left breast.

- Hi. - Y/N smiled, extending her hand towards the woman. - I’m Y/N, I’m the new ...

- I don’t care, we need silk ribbons, now.

- Oh, I ... I’m new, I don’t know where I’d get silk ribbons, m’am.

- The costume room? Go, stop looking at me as if you were Bambi and go.

- Oh, okay.

She made her way hastily out of the theatre room wondering how she was going to find silk ribbons, where she was going to find them and why she had to find them. Maybe it was a hazing ritual for new people, after all, she had been into various hazings during her career, including downing a whole bottle of honey which she couldn’t even finish, only eating one fourth of it before becoming nauseous.

She stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering where the costume room could be. It couldn’t be on the top floor, that was usually where the bars and common rooms were so if the building followed regular construction protocols for opera houses, it was probably on the underground section of the house where the dressing rooms used to be. Y/N ventured into the lift, pressing the lowest number on the number chart of the panel until she reached the underground floor. Y/N looked around, people running in and out yet no one stopped whenever she tried to question where the costume room was. She had managed to find the costume shop but no luck finding the costume room until she was pretty much pressed against a dark door with those exact words by the passing crowd.

She twisted the knob of the costume room door, tumbling onto the dark room as a result. The room was filled to the brim with costumes on each side of the room, a plexiglass divider between the two sides which stopped every meter or so and also appeared to be divided onto female and male costumes with the ensemble costumes at the back. She padded across the concrete floors, looking through dresses and accessories for ribbons but no successful attempt. The ruffling from the other side of the room had her turning around, forehead furrowed as she walked towards the plexiglass divider.

- Hello? - she questioned, wondering if there was someone in this room who could help her find silk ribbons. Great, she had barely joined the company and was already screwing up. Great, Y/N. Way to go, Y/N.

She saw someone all dressed in black just like the women before, yet there seemed to be something which didn’t match up; black jeans, black shirt and black leathe jacket as well as a pair of also black boots, scruffed and probably entirely too old to still be holding up together. Her eyes caught his which despite the low almost non existent light of the costume room, were light, a sort of greyish blue like the calm sea before of storm. His gaze pulled hers in, like gravity and she couldn’t help but clutch the jacket next to her as a bad feeling along with something she’d never felt before settled in her stomach.

His hair was mostly pushed back yet the ones which framed his face fell like dominos. She moved along the side where she was to one of the plexiglass gaps and he did the same still maintaining eye contact with her, until the two reached the gap. She didn’t notice she was holding her breathe in until she breathed out.

- Hi. - her own hand gripped her wrist, shoe grinding against the floors. - Uhm, I’m new here and this lady sent me down to find some silk ribbons but I can’t find any. Do you ...

- I... uh ... I don’t know where they are. - he faltered for a few seconds before regaining his posture.

- Oh, I thought since you were here, you might be one of the stage managers.

- I’m not. - his tone was monotonous, almost as if he had the answer to her question before she even made it.

- Oh ... - she rubbed her neck. - Are you also looking for silk ribbons?

- I’m looking for the dressing rooms, actually.

- They’re down the hall. - she pointed at the door as if it was the “down the hall”. - Hum ... Are you new here too?

- Yeah. Thanks. - he walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out before catching her gaze once again.

Y/N remained in the middle of the room as if she were in a transe and maybe she was. It felt like she was falling yet she was firm on her feet and she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling of falling, it wasn’t feeling, it was hopeless falling and she wondered why looking at a man who looked like an 80′s glam rock reject made her feel like that, so lost. Maybe it was the respect he appeared to command by merely looking at her or maybe it was the nerves about being new and not being able to find some goddamn silk ribbons. Damn it.

- Call for 30 minutes before dress rehearsal. - the voice came from the intercom and immediately her mind dropped the idea of finding silk ribbons and moved to finding the ensemble dressing room and get dressed and ready. Damn it, this was going well.

She rushed down the hall, bag almost slipping off her shoulder until she saw the door with the ensemble plaque on it. The young woman peaked inside the room where pretty much everyone with a role on the ensemble were already sat down. She shyly walked in the middle row until she found her own little corner, her name written on a sticker on the mirror along with photos of how the makeup should be done as well as how to get the costume in correctly. The same goofy smile returned as she sat down and saw her name above her. It was fine, she was here, she was part of a company.

- Hey you’re new. - the girl next to her twirled her chair to face her. She already had her makeup on and hair pinned curled up and ready to put a wig cap on. - I’m Elliot but people call me Elle.

- Y/N, I’m the new chorus girl. First day.

- Aw, welcome. - she had a bright smile, inviting and almost as exciting as the whole experience of being there. - Do you want help pincurling your hair? I can get it done while you do your makeup.

- Yes, please. - she pulled out a big box from her bag which had all her makeup and pins.

Elle started pin curling her hair up while she put an inappropriate amount of blush on which was just appropriate to get on stage under the bright yellow lights. Turns out half the practice for opera is learning to do your makeup under bright yellow lights and then learning to sing. 10 minutes to rehearsal start, she was along with Elle going down and up to the main stage where most dancers were warming up. Elle left her to do so, leaving Y/N once again to just stand there, looking around like a little sheep in the middle of wolves.

- I’ve never seen you around. - her shoulders almost went up as he turned to see one of the principal sopranos, if not the principal soprano. She had seen all of her shows ever since she was a teenager and she had even wrote an essay for university on her for a module. Catherine Vargas, the best New York could offer, if not the best the world could offer. - I didn’t know they were still casting dancers.

- Oh, I’m a chorus girl, Mrs Vargas.

- A chorus girl? - she furrowed her brows at her, looking her up and down. - What type?

- The type who ... is in the back with the ensemble. - her voice lowered at least a few volumes down, back curved as if she were bowing.

- I know what chorus girls do. I asked what vocal type.

- Lyric soprano, m’am.

- A lyric soprano in the chorus. Interesting. Where did you train?

- Julliard, m’am.

- Julliard? - she looked her up and down again. - That is a great school. What is a Julliard graduate doing in the chorus line?

- Everyone starts somewhere. - she laughed nervously, scratching her arm as she did so.

- Not a lyric soprano from Julliard. Composers sure do love an ingenue, don’t they? Don’t worry, a few months with me and you’ll be supporting.

- That’s ... that’s really kind, Mrs. Vargas. Thank you.

- Don’t thank me. Could you get me some honey from my dressing room? I’m feeling a bit strained.

- It’s 5 minutes until rehearsal starts.

- It’s okay, chorus normally doesn’t do much during rehearsal. Can you get it?

- Yeah, I think so.

She straightened her crinkled skirt, looking behind her back before going down the stairs which led down to the dressing rooms. This was good, right? Getting into one of the main star’s good graces besides she was right, the chorus didn’t really get much attention during rehearsals, at least not as much as the main characters. It’s easier to get away with screwing up in the back than in the front, her teacher would tell her which would always earn a few laughs from her colleagues. Yet, Y/N hated to make any mistakes. She would stay up all night in front of a cheap piano she had bought from a charity shop, playing and singing the same 5 note progression until her flatmate yelled at her to shut up. For her, if it wasn’t perfect and if she didn’t get any criticism while performing it, she hadn’t done it right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day but what did matter was to climb up the ladder. She didn’t want to be a star, all she wanted was to be able to be on that stage forever with the spotlight shining on her and she knew there was only one way to climb up. Actually there were two, extreme luck and connections. Now, she didn’t have the best of luck so her major choice was to make connections and reach that status.

She made her way into the principal dressing room. It was probably one of the biggest she had ever seen, with expensive decor and various flowers covering it. She wondered how many flowers she received on opening nights if that was the number she had on regular days. Y/N made her way to the desk, opening drawers and more drawers to find honey until she found it on the lowest drawn. She went down on her knees to grab it, mindless and careless to everything that was happening until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her her.

Then everything went dark.

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