#Big fucking City Nights gets blasted when this is all over

[viky-somebody]

thank fuck theres Scorpions in these trying times aye

#viky stuff #slower songs for today #Big fucking City Nights gets blasted when this is all over

[iamcalmdammit]

Sleepless night || [Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader]

note: this was supposed to be something completely different but then simon turned into a lovesick puppy somehow. what do you think?

Simon could only hear the sound of an explosion nearby and see the smoke from where he was, but Soap was close, he reported it was the same building you were in. His heart was racing, his thoughts wandering a little too far as he thought about the worst case scenario.

"Echo 3-7, come in," There was no response. "Echo 3-7, do you copy?" He forced himself to sound calm, but in reality he was everything but calm. He was losing his mind, getting into a thought spiral he was afraid he wouldn't be able to escape until you finally said something. "Y/N, please, say something," he tried again, this time sounding desperate.

"Lt., I have a visual on her, she seems to be okay," came Soap's voice through his earpiece.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Positive. From here it seems like she's trying to use her radio."

Right, it must be it, it just doesn't work properly after you being so close to the explosion. Maybe you didn't even hear him calling out for you. "Must be the result of the blast," he noted eventually.

"Probably. I'm on my way there." Some time passed in silence which made him think Soap didn't feel like chatting this time around. But he was wrong as the sergeant broke the silence not a whole five minutes later. "So her real name is Y/N?"

After letting out a long sigh, Simon closed his eyes. "Yes," he replied, knowing well enough what was about to come.

"Why did she tell you?"

"She had her reasons."

"You two are close, aren't you?"

"Not anymore."

"I bet she has seen you without the mask," Soap said and it was clear through his voice that he was smiling to himself.

"She has."

"You were dating, weren't you?"

Okay, this was getting out of hand. "Don't push your luck, sergeant," Simon warned him.

"Okay, fine, I'll stop, sir."

"Thank you. What's your status?"

"Almost there. No sight of the attackers."

Good. At least you weren't in danger now. He could only hope you had no injuries of any kind, like a nasty internal bleeding you didn't notice due to the spike in your adrenaline level. He couldn't lose you, not now and not like this.

There were so many things he wanted to say after what had happened between you. He fucked up big time and it was by now crystal clear to him that you had to talk about your relationship. You had to fix it. He had to fix it.

"She's fine, Lt., only has a couple of bruises and cuts," Soap's voice came through the earpiece again. "Her radio is dead, we'll stay together from now on."

"Copy. I'll get the car and pick you up. Stay where you are."

"Understood."

The car ride back to the team's temporary base passed in complete silence. You didn't say a word, mostly focused on the city around you instead, while Soap was clearly torn between asking a bunch of questions from the two of you and keeping silent as it was none of his business. In the end he kept his eyes on your environment, making sure no one was following you.

You didn't talk to him. Aside from a short thanks back when you had gotten into the car in front of the building, you said absolutely nothing. He didn't mind as having a conversation in front of the others now would have been torture. It was hard to control his emotions and since you didn't want the rest of the team to find out about your history, it was best to keep quiet for now.

Late at night, around two or three in the morning, Simon woke up. He was staring at the ceiling for a while, thinking about you. Again. But this time he had enough. He couldn't wait any longer. So he quietly stood up and walked over to where you were sleeping.

"Hey, Y/N, wake up," he said, gently putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Why?" you asked groggily.

"Let's talk."

"Now? What time is it anyway?"

"Late, but it can't wait."

"All right."

The pair of you walked to a room far from the others and he quickly put his hands on your shoulders as he looked you in the eye. "You sure you're okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"I'm glad to hear that." Biting on his lower lip under the mask, he thought about how to proceed. It was a dangerous conversation that could go wrong any second. "After seeing the place explode I thought I'd lost you," Simon admitted after some thinking.

You let out a short laugh upon hearing this. "It's not that easy to get rid of me."

"That I know."

Silence fell between you and he could see you were struggling to figure out what to say. "Is this why you woke me up?" you asked in the end.

"No, I actually wanted to tell you something," he quickly replied before gulping. "I fucked up, I know that now."

"Took you long enough."

You were right, he couldn't argue with this statement. "Every time I saw you with Alex, knowing how much he knows about you--the real you," he began uncertainly but didn't finish the sentence just yet. After inhaling and exhaling, he eventually said, "It was too much and I definitely misread the situation."

"And?" you asked expectantly.

"You're just friends, more like siblings. I get it, I have no reason to be jealous."

"Thank you. What changed your mind?"

"Time," he said. "I thought a lot about what went wrong after we broke up. Also… Yeah, it probably helped that Alex came to talk to me about it. He told me how badly I hurt your feelings."

Letting out a groan, you put a hand on the back of your neck. "I'll have to talk to him about boundaries," you said quietly.

"He was just worried about you."

A few months ago he wouldn't have thought of protecting Alex, but here he was, trying to do it. He was important to you and Simon didn't want to stand between the two of you. He had to get over his stupid jealousy.

"You know, I was wondering if we could start again," he spoke up again. "I miss you. I never thought I would ever say something like this, but I can't sleep without you next to me. I can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't focus. I can't live like that."

"I know the feeling," you noted quietly. "You left me, Simon. You said things that really hurt me. I spent days blaming myself, that maybe you're right, that maybe I let him too close."

Shaking his head, he quickly stepped closer to put a hand on the side of your neck, caressing your jawline with his gloved thumb. "You need a friend you can talk to about the things you do on the field, I didn't get that back then, but I get it now," he explained with a smile you couldn't see now.

Smiling yourself, you reached out and took off his mask. "You're lucky you're cute," you told him.

"You think I'm cute?" You nodded. "Marry me," he blurted out.

"What?"

Yeah, what? But as he thought about it, it wasn't a joke or anything. "I'm serious," he told you. "Let's get married."

Shaking your head, you stood on your toes to kiss him gently. "We barely agreed to give our relationship another shot, I think it's too soon," you said with your hands on his chest.

"Come on, in our line of work we shouldn't wait with things like this. Let's celebrate that we found someone who can understand why we do what we do, someone who wouldn't judge the other for the things they do on the field," he tried.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" you asked with your head tilted to the side.

"For a couple of hours, I guess." You laughed and put his mask back on. "Hey, I know it's not that long, but I'm serious. Think about it. Please." Before you could say anything, you both turned to the door when you heard footsteps. "Not a word!" Simon warned him.

Soap opened his mouth, but in the end decided to put up his hands and go back to the others without saying anything.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare

[ragingbookdragon]

Make Me Sway

1930's TF 141 x Reader

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I have so many AUs planned but @temeyes said run with this one so I shall :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She wakes with a startle, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling which turns into an unfamiliar room. Fancy, obviously a wealthy owner, the room’s almost as big as her entire apartment. She sits up and blinks, looking down at herself—still dressed in the clothes she was in last night, save her shoes.

“Finally awake?” Her head swivels to the side to see a young man standing with a calm smile on his face. “Hi, I’m—”

She scrambles off the bed, puts it between them and she looks around for an exit to flee from.

“Woah, calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He takes a step closer, and she reacts, grabbing the lamp from the bedside table, yanking it from the wall and flipping it upside down to use as a weapon. He snorts, trying to hide it and puts on a firm look. “Will you—will you please put the lamp down?”

“W-where am I?” she asks, keeping the bed still between them; she waves the lamp at him. “Who are you?”

“My name is Kyle and you’re here at my boss’s mansion.”

“Where is here?”

“Just a few miles out of New York City. Countryside.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she says in shock and when he takes another step, she waves the lamp and moves to the end of the bed. “Back! Get back!”

Kyle throws his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, easy. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

She looks around the lavish room, it’s green, calming, the wood is cherry, and she breathes in the scent of lavender. “Why am I here?”

“I can’t answer that,” he says and takes a cautious step forward. “But I can get my Captain so he can. He told me to watch you until you woke and take you to him when you did.” He looks at her, deep brown eyes firm but kind, trusting. “I can take you to him, but I need you to put the lamp down before you hurt yourself.” She lets him get close, hands him the lamp. “That’s a good girl. Now—”

He starts talking but she lowers her gaze to the gun sitting in his between his pants and shirt, tucked neatly at his hip; it only takes a split second to decide, and she yanks the revolver from him and points it at him as she backs up and now, he looks even more worried.

“Easy,” he says the word lowly, a warning; looks at her shaking hands. “You don’t even know how to shoot a gun, I reckon.”

“I can learn,” she retorts with a wavering confidence. “I’ve learned a lot by doing in the moment.” She thinks of all the things she’s learned in the nursing ward she’s been in for the last two years.

“Why don’t we—”

The gun aims over his shoulder and a blast rings out in the room as the glass picture on the wall shatters.

“Christ!” he shouts, ducking. “Are you fucking mad! You could’ve fucking shot me!”

“No, but I’m sure I still have a few rounds in the chamber,” she replies. “Perhaps you should go get your Captain, hmm?” she waves the gun to the door. “Run along.”

Kyle lifts his hands over his head and backs up slowly to the door. “Crazy, fucking bat—” he hurries out and she lowers the gun, hyperventilating, tucking herself into the corner; a quick look out the window dismays her idea to jump out the window—she’s on the second floor high up.

It’s only a few minutes before a knock sounds on the door and she lifts the gun again as a calm, deep voice comes through. “Can I come in?”

She swallows thickly and backs closer to the corner. “I have a gun!”

“I’m well aware,” the voice replies humored and in steps an older man, early forties, clean kempt and clean shaven, light brown and dusting gray mutton chops; his eyes are soft, a bit crow-footed around the edges, times of worry and weariness evident, but his expression and body language appear non-threatening. “Gave my Sergeant quite a wake-up, didn’t you, love? I’ve always loved a woman not afraid to make her peace,” he notes with a grin, and she can’t help but let out a startled laugh.

She watches as he walks over to the table in the corner and plucks two hardwood chairs up and sets them down in the middle of the room, followed by a small table from the window; he sets them a distance away, a safe distance and sits down in the chair closest to the door.

“Care to sit?”

“Not particularly,” she says and waits for him to speak, but he doesn’t, only smiles when the door opens and in steps the same young man but he’s holding a silver tray with a tea kettle and a few small cups.

“Tea, Captain,” he murmurs and sets it down on the table before leaving.

“Thank you, Kyle,” he says and looks at her. “You look awfully taut, love, come have some tea and we’ll sit a while and discuss what’s going on.”

She looks at it dubiously. “And how do I know you haven’t poisoned it?”

He blinks and pours himself a cup before blowing and taking a sip. “Wouldn’t drink it, would I?” He can tell she wants to argue but doesn’t know what to say and he smiles, nodding to the chair a few feet from him. “You’re confused, scared, and untrusting. Take a seat and I can help clear up some of those for you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me?” it’s a stupid question to ask really, naïve even, but still, she can’t help it.

He laughs. “If I was going to hurt you, I wouldn’t have you up here in my guest bedroom.”

She purses her lips and tips her head side to side; can’t argue with that. Taking a seat, she lets him pour a cup.

“Sugar?”

“Two, please.”

He nods. “Sweet love, aren’t you?” handing her the cup, he holds out his hand. “May I have Sergeant Garrick’s gun back, please?” His tone is kind, but it’s obvious he’s a man who isn’t to be argued with and she hands the gun over. “Thank you, love.”

She holds the cup in her lap, watching the steam waft up to her face. “Where am I?”

“At my mansion just outside of New York.” He takes a sip. “First, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies for what occurred last night and how you unfortunately were involved.”

It takes a second and her memory flashes.

The guns went off before she realized what was happening, bullets ringing from over the street. One of their faces appears in her vision and then other faces, fingers pointing at her and she felt her heart drop into her stomach as she picks her bag from the ground and ran down the alley.

It’s only a moment before a weight like a train hits her back and she falls to the ground, sliding in dirt and grime behind the dumpster as she scrambles for her bearings. A cocking echoes and she looks over, the barrel of a gun in her face and she pleads with the man, “Please, please, I don’t want to die!”

He curses at her, screaming and then he looks down the alley he came in from and curses again, running off, but not before yanking her bag up and taking off with it.

Two more men run to her, and she slips in the watery mud as she tries to get up and run, but then one of the men’s arms are around her waist.

“Hold it, lass!” She starts screaming, and then his hand is over her mouth. “Stop fucking screaming! You tryna call the fuzz!”

His hand is over her nose, and she thrashes wildly in his grip as oxygen shorts from her lungs.

“Careful, Johnny,” the other warns. “Price’ll be livid if you kill her.”

Her vision blacks out, consciousness bleeding away as his response turns to mush in her ears.

“John and Simon weren’t supposed to do their mission in the neighborhood they were in. It’s my fault you were involved with it.”

She blinks the memory of the night before away and looks at him.

He looks almost ashamed. “Believe me, I’ve already expressed my anger thoroughly with them. They’ll both be in here to apologize at some point. John, especially for how he treated a young lady such as yourself.”

“…I take it you’re not exactly ‘law-abiding’ citizens?”

His eyes find hers and he smiles, holding out his hand. “Jonathan Price.”

She takes his hand and shakes it. “(Y/N) (L/N).” she looks him over. “You’re a mobster, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to call myself a well-distinguished businessman who simply operates outside the rules of engagement.”

“Long way to call yourself a criminal,” she snaps and sips her tea.

“Probably.” He gazes at her. “What happened last night was a fight over territory with a rival gang. You weren’t supposed to get involved.”

“Really? I had no idea?”

She knows he doesn’t take kindly to the sarcasm, but he can’t blame her. “That being said, it’s already through the channels that you’re somehow involved with my group. They’ve put a hit on you.”

Tea goes down the wrong pipe and she coughs, massaging her chest as she manages, “I’m sorry? Can you repeat that?”

“Because John and Simon brought you back, the others have assumed you’re a part of the one-four-one. They’ve officially put a target on your back.” He takes her shock in stride and in return calms, “I don’t intend to let anyone, or anything hurt you before all of this is cleared.”

“I’m going to die?”

He blinks and shakes his head. “No, you’re not, love.” Reaching over with a gentle hand, he places it on her wrist and looks into her eyes as he promises, “I won’t let anyone hurt you as a result of my men’s piss poor planning. You will be safe until it’s over and can return back to normal life.”

She breathes deeply, looks at the hand on her wrist. A stranger’s hand shouldn’t be so peaceful, so gentle, but his words sway her into a peace, and she exhales, her shoulders drooping. “I…but I have my job, my life. I…how am I supposed to live?”

Price frowns and pulls his hand away. “For now, I’ll contact your job and have you put on an extended leave, we’ll call it a family emergency.”

“The hospital would soon rather fire me.”

“Not on my watch they won’t,” he replies with a grin. “I’ll have your apartment cleared of your necessities and brought here, the rent paid for the next few months, depending on how long this takes.”

She looks around the room. “I’m supposed to live here for this time? All day, every day? Like a bird in a cage? A prisoner?”

“Of course not. My mansion is yours to explore freely. I have acres of land that are patrolled regularly so you’ll be safe anywhere. The only rooms that are off limits are my office which connects to my bedroom, and the rooms of my men unless they allow you into them.” He looks at her. “I have an extensive library and gallery, a decent stable with horses, a vast kitchen—the choice is yours to go wherever and do whatever. If there’s something you’d like, simply ask and I’ll see to it that you get it.”

“And what if I want to go into the city and go shopping?” she challenges. “A girl can’t stay cooped up forever in a nest. She’ll go insane.”

Price smiles but it’s evident he’s already thought of her question. “We’ll see what we can arrange.”

She lets out a sigh and sinks back into her chair, all of it suddenly hitting her and she tears up, setting the cup down to wipe her face as tears begin to fall. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry. I don’t usually cry like this.”

He simply hands her his pocket square from his suit and says, “Cry all you’d like, love. It’s my fault you’re in this mess, and I promise to get you out of it smoothly the best I can.” Another few moments of her crying before she sits up straighter and wipes her eyes one last time and he smiles. “Done?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then perhaps, if you’re up for it, I’d like to introduce you to my men.” When he sees the pause on her face, he adds, “We don’t have to now, if you don’t, but given that they’ll be looking after you, it’d be important to get it over with.”

She nods her head and sighs, “I understand.”

Price smiles and looks to the door. “Boys.”

The door opens and in files three men one after the other, the first, a tall blonde with a black face mask to match the all black suit he’s in, the next, a slightly shorter man with a head of shaved sides in a blue, pinstriped suit, and the third, Kyle, the man she’d met previously in a green and brown plaid suit.

Price gestures to the first, “My second-in-command, Lieutenant Simon Riley, my first Sergeant John MacTavish, and you know Sergeant Kyle Garrick.”

She swallows thickly and looks over them with quickly warming cheeks. “How do you do.” She meets eyes with Kyle and offers him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for…shooting at you.”

The others snicker as Price shoots them a disapproving look and Kyle simply smiles back and shakes his head. “S’alright, sweets. No harm, no foul.”

Price looks over all of them fondly then back to her. “These are men I would gladly lay my life down for. I trust them beyond measure. None of them would ever hurt you.”

She glances at them, and they all show looks of pride but also have a demeanor of respect and determination. “Um, I’m (Y/N).”

The second one, John, grins at her. “Bonnie lass, ain’t ya? Definitely wouldn’t mind taking you on the town.”

Her cheeks get hot, and she looks at her hands, as Price scowls at him. “MacTavish, don’t forget you still owe Miss (L/N) one massive apology.”

John’s own face turns red as he looks at the ground, mouth snapping shut, and this time, Simon and Kyle laugh at him.

Price turns to her and smiles. “They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but a good lot. I’d like to have them rotate turns on keeping you company, if nothing else so you don’t go insane all alone here.”

“Oh, alright,” she agrees. “Will it be every day or every other…?”

He looks back at the men and then back to her. “Perhaps every week? I think a week with each one would give you adequate time to become comfortable with them. Less confusion to figure on who’s day it is when it’s simply someone’s week.”

“That sounds fine,” she nods and clears her throat. “Well, who is going to be with me first?”

Price smiles and pats her knee before standing and walking to the door. “I’ll let you have the honors of such a decision, love. That being said, I have some business to attend. I’ll see you all at dinner.” He looks at the masked one. “Simon, if she doesn’t choose you, I’ll need to see you in my office.”

“Yes sir,” he replies lowly, never taking his eyes off her as Price shuts the door behind him.

She’s left with the three men, an apprehensive look on her face as she stares back at the three men. “So…how’s everyone’s morning going so far?”

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader imagines #task force 141 x reader imagine #task force 141 imagines #task force 141 imagine #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader imagines #tf 141 x reader imagine #tf 141 imagines #tf 141 imagine #tf 141 #jonathan price #captain price #price #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #cod #cod imagines #cod imagine

[waywardcrow]

Haircuts and coffee.

Summary: A little story about how Fairy and Bucky meet and how far Fairy could go to protect someone.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader.

WC: About 1600 or something.

TW: Very poor science kwnoledge by me, a pair of assholes talking shit, language, references to Bucky’s past as the Winter soldier and the abuse he suffered at Hydra's, physical violence (don’t try this at home), goofiness, someone trips and falls, fluff and feels, reader it's pictured to don't be above 5'3 but I try to don't specify too much, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Everybody talked about “the incident” for a while.

That’s what Tony decided to call when his favorite lab tech decided to blast a not tested powerful weapon at some jerk agents.

In your defense, he had it coming.

Agent Smith was rude, obnoxious and misogynistic, he smelled like instead of water he used his awful cologne to shower and he made the mistake to be rude to Sergeant Barnes in your presence.

Three weeks ago Sergeant Barnes was found innocent of all charges against him and Captain Rogers took him to the Avengers compound so he could start living there while he finished his recovery, you remembered how happy he was that morning, not even Tony’s teasing could get under Steve’s skin and you were so happy for both of them, obviously not everyone shared the feeling.

There were some people whispering, not very enthusiastic about having the former Winter Soldier living there, free, but you decided to don’t engage with them, Agent Hill made very clear you couldn’t keep getting into fights with your coworkers even if they never were physical.

You weren’t a violent person but also you weren’t one to stand and watch something happening when you knew it was wrong.

So you focused on your work.

A simple weapon that could be camouflaged like a normal glove but it had all the power of Tony’s blasters, it was a delicate experiment because the material wasn’t resistant enough to the power source so it ended on fire or the blast wasn’t powerful enough, firing some sparks that only will scare you and no one else.

Tony told you over and over again to don’t pressure perfection which was bullshit because the man survived on caffeine and impostor syndrome most of the days, just like you. You continued to work until you were sure it was good, that’s why you decided to try it in a safe environment and, it was then when it happened.

You heard a couple of agents talk on your way to see Tony, they were watching Sergeant Barnes from the hall without an ounce of shame while he poured some coffee for himself in the kitchen, what you heard made your stomach drop.

“I don’t know why they let him out, he’s a fucking freak” Agent Smith said with a vicious smile in his very symmetrical face.

“Yeah man, they should never left him leave prison” the other, Jameson, agreed.

“They actually should send him back to Hydra, so he gets what he deserves”

At that, you saw Sergeant Barnes flinch and you realized he could hear them even if he was a very good distance.

It broke your heart.

He was so polite when Steve introduced you, he had such a kind smile when his best friend told him he would take him to the best burgers in the city that night as celebration and you read some of the files years ago when Nat put out all of SHIELD and Hydra’s information, you knew things you wished that could get erased from your mind and specially you wished the man in front of you never would have to suffer them, ever.

So yeah, you threw Hill’s advice through the window and went to agent jerk and agent douchebag.

“Take that back, assholes”

You were well aware how you looked, a small nerd with very big glasses and a very short skirt facing some six foot something idiots who could kill you in a heartbeat. Your mother always told you to stop being too impulsive but your father always smiled about it, calling you a troublemaker.

“Don’t get your nose in things that doesn’t concern you, lab rat” Smith didn’t like you, not so much after you declined his offer to go out which was predictable from someone like him, beside him Jameson let out a laugh that made you see red.

“I said: take it back and apologize”

Smith got too close to you for your liking, enjoying being able to stared down at you, like you were nothing.

“Or what? Are you going to cry? Or would you ask your new friend to kill me like he used-“ you didn’t let him finish, with a flick of your wrist, he got send backwards alongside his buddy, making both of them fly across the hall to the empty conference room to end in the garden, a floor below.

You looked at your hand, the good news was your experiment worked, the bad was Maria would not like this.

That was how you ended in disciplinary action, thankfully Tony and Steve interceded for you, watching with Friday’s help the footage of the incident, Smith and Jameson had to apologize to Sergeant Barnes and you didn’t have to do the same with them. When they presented a complain, Tony swore the footage of the incident was gone and there was no way they could prove you hurt them. Also he promised them they would have nice assignments waiting for them after their recovery… in Alaska.

Maria was not speaking to you, tired of cleaning everyone’s messes. Yelena gave you lots of high fives that made you want to hide when someone else watch you both, and Steve, he was thankful for your intervention and you didn’t regret it but his friend couldn’t look at you in the eyes anymore.

It wasn’t that obvious because as part of you punishment, you had to spend a lot of time in the training facilities with Nat, Maria was convinced that it was perfect because you hated exercise and she was right, you were in hell.

Even if Nat was one of your best friends, she was a relentless trainer, tough and disciplined, all you weren’t when it came to run in circles.

“Come on, Fairy” she yelled at you from her position, very ahead of you “I need you to run like Pedro Pascal is waiting for you!”

The sweat was blinding you, your lungs felt on fire and still you managed to scream at her like a suffocated turtle.

“Don’t you dare use Pedro’s name in vain!”

The redhead laughed, running backwards like it was easy, for her it probably was and then you saw him.

Not Pedro Pascal, of course, although you were sure he was friends with Pepper and she didn’t want to tell you.

You saw Sergeant Barnes coming towards the run track, it wasn’t strange since he and Steve used it a lot but his hair, it was different. He had cut all his long locks leaving only a very modern haircut that make his cheekbones more evident.

Before you could think about closing your mouth, your foot got caught in something and you fell.

It was so embarrassing being in the med bay for this.

Sam would never let you hear the end of it, Yelena got the footage and made a tik tok reel just for you, Morgan was the only one who took pity on you and left you a bag of Sour patch when she went to see you.

You were fine with all of that, the teasing of your friends and even your sore wrist but your literal high school celebrity crush saw you hit the dust, all because you were so busy staring at him. It was a good thing he was avoiding you.

Because life loved to make fun of you, he went to see you at the med bay.

“Hi miss, Fairy, I mean miss Fairy” he wasn’t sure he could get to call you by the pet name everybody used with you even if Steve had introduced you like that. Bucky knew your real name, of course, but you seemed to like being called Fairy and if he was honest with himself, it suited you.

“It’s everything ok, Sergeant?” your first instinct was to check on him and it didn’t went unnoticed by Bucky.

“Yeah, I am” he put a cup pf coffee in the bedside table and looked at you like he wanted to run from there “I came to see how you are, it was a very bad fall”

Your cheeks burned, why did this have to happen to you? If seventeen year old you could see you right now, she would slapped you for making this impression on Bucky Barnes, your favorite Howling commando, the reason you wanted to join SHIELD and even when you couldn’t, you still tried to do something good with your life.

“Yeah, it wasn’t- I mean, I’m fine” you smiled but it looked more like a grimaced gesture.

He wasn’t convinced, your arm had scratches and your left cheekbone was red, Bucky felt bad for waiting until this happened to talk to you.

“I brought you some coffee, Steve told me you like it like this” he lied, Bucky had observed you enough to know how you liked it, which was natural since you drank it like it was water. He fought the urge to hide his gloved hands on his pockets “I didn’t get to thank you”

“What for?” you asked before taking a sip of your cup, it was perfect.

“For standing for me, that day”

His voice sounded small even being this close to you and he hated it.

He hated you heard what they said, he hated that you felt bad for him and that he found you so beautiful when he had no chance with you.

Biting your lip, you left your drink and looked at him in the eyes.

“I didn’t want you to think they represent us, they don’t, there’s a lot of douchebags but there’s also a lot of good people here and we will support you” it sounded so cheesy but it was true, what kind of superheroes organization they would be if they don’t take care of their own people?

Bucky stared at you, not wanting to believe you were real, why were you being so kind with him? And why did he wanted more?

“Thanks, Fairy” this time, your pet name sounded sure on his tongue and it made you smile.

“No need to thank me, Sergeant”

“Please, call me Bucky”

Hello! I wanted to write this so bad and I didn't care if it was very self indulgent and silly, I needed this, I love Fairy and Bucky so much and I hope you love them too, let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader

[jksprincess10]

The neighbor’s daughter 3.Hello again

A/N: I wanted to make this part more story-driven, but it’s still smutty. I want to make more chapters, but it’ll be a short series.

Summary: You bring your new lover to a party. 

CW: talks of cheating, anxiety, bj, rough sex, unprotected sex, age gap, alcohol, weed consumption, fluff city.

I suggest to read the other parts before:

Part 1

Part 2

In some ways, everything was easier now that your dad knew about your casual relationship with Joel. What made it harder was… you didn’t have “the talk” with your lover. You didn’t want to put a label on your relationship, knowing that you would leave for New York at the end of the summer. You didn’t want to break Joel’s heart. And you didn’t want Sarah to get attached to you, that’s why you were planning on never telling her. But Sarah was a smart girl, she knew something was going on.

You were both getting attached. It was dangerous.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Sam, pulling you away from your thoughts.

Party on sat at my place. U down?

Like old times? Sure.

U can bring your sweet neighbor 😉

 You didn’t know if that type of crowd was Joel’s thing. He was… older and more responsible after all. He was more of the quiet type, spending a night sipping on beers with your dad rather than partying with young adults.

Still, you asked.

Party at Sam’s on Saturday. You’re invited as my +1. Do you want to come?

Do you want me to come, hun?

Yes. But only if you want.

I’m in. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together.

 **

Joel hadn’t been to a party in what… 10 years? He was nervous, even though you spent hours reassuring him. He wanted to make you happy, and your happiness was more important than his nervousness.

He left Sarah at her uncle’s house before he parked his truck in front of your house. When you got out after hugging your dad, you were wearing a cropped blouse and a matching mini skirt, that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Joel looked at you, mouth wide open. He calmed down to wave at your dad, who was looking at you through the window.

“Knowing this was a fashion parade, I should’ve dressed better.” He said as you took place in the passenger seat, after letting out a whistle.

You rolled your eyes at him with a smile.

“You’re perfect.”

Joel, on the other hand, was wearing a simple olive-green V-neck shirt, a leather coat over it and tight dark jeans. His curls were slicked back, giving his hair a more put-together look. You were so used to seeing him in his work clothes, covered in wood dust, that even this was the biggest change for you.

While he was driving, he put his hand on your thigh. You could feel his fingers tapping your skin nervously. You put your hand on his to stop him from fidgeting.

“Joel, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous as fuck.”

“Why? You’ve met Sam, kind of.”

“Yeah, it’s just not my kind of crowd, you know? What if they find it weird that you’re bringing an ol’ dad with you?” He asked as he parked in Sam’s street. He stopped the car and turned to look at you.

“First of all, you look 30 tops, tonight. Second of all, I don’t care what they think.”

Three words were burning your tongue, but instead, you added:

“I really like you, Joel. Don’t worry.”

He nodded with a smile, before leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“I really like you too.”

When you both got in Sam’s backyard, the party was already well started. Popular music was blasting on the stereo, drunken young adults were dancing. You saw a lot of familiar faces from high school, people you did theater with before going to New York.

Sam waved at you, and you two went towards him. You gave him a big hug.

“So happy to see you.” He acknowledged Joel’s presence with a nod. “There’s only… one problem.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Chad is here.”

“What the fuck? He ain’t even friends with you.”

Joel placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Turns out Darcy, who did theater with us, is his new girlfriend. They worked together on some project in New York and he’s visiting.”

Was it the girl he cheated on you with? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

“It’ll be fine. There’re enough people here, I might not even see them.” You tried to reassure yourself.

Sam disappeared after, getting dragged away by the guy he was seeing.

“So, Chad? Your asshole ex?” Joel asked, concerned.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to leave, hun?”

“No. I just want a drink, frankly.”

“I got’chu.” He laughed and dragged you to the nearest icebox.

You took a Smirnoff, and he took a generic beer, when you heard a song from Metric that you liked.

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again

You dragged Joel with you as he protested, but you gave him no choice but to dance with you. He managed to keep his nervousness away as you were dancing ridiculously with him.

I'll send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh

From you

You looked so pretty like this, hair moving with your head bangs, arms in the air, and screaming the lyrics. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chad, but you ignored him, your eyes coming back to Joel’s face, to stay grounded.

The song changed for a Doja Cat one, that was Joel’s cue to stop. He had his hands on his knees, panting.

“Damn, we’ll have to dance more often. You’re out of shape.” You laughed.

“Shut up. I’ll go get us more drinks.”

You stole a kiss from him, before you watched him leave. Chad took this opportunity to approach you. You gave him a polite smile. He presented Darcy. She was objectively a pretty girl, long blonde hair, green eyes, and all in curves. Too pretty for a pathetic guy like Chad.

“Respectfully, I don’t really wanna talk to you two right now. Wasn’t expecting you to be here and it’s ruining my vibe.” You snapped.

“Damn. Still not over me?” He asked with a stupid smile.

“Oh I am, I just feel like I don’t have to keep any kind of friendship with you. So kindly, fuck off.” You retorted with a forced smile.

Joel came back and gave you another bottle. When he saw in what kind of situation you were in, he threw his arm around your waist and pulled you close in a protective way, staring at Chad like an angry guard dog.

“Didn’t know your dad liked parties.” He said as he looked at Joel from head to toe.

Darcy tried to pull Chad away, but he gave her a slight slap on the hand. Asshole. She grumbled something and left him there.

“Joel’s not my dad. Turns out older men are more serious and don’t have a tendency to cheat on you. Crazy, right?” You argued sarcastically.

“I think you should be takin’ care of your own girlfriend, bud.” Joel added in a firm tone.

Chad scoffed and left.

“I just need a minute…” You said to Joel, before you went inside Sam’s house, disappearing in the closest bathroom.

Chad’s encounter didn’t destabilize you as much as Joel almost calling you his girlfriend. Minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, before Joel came in. This bathroom was tiny, just enough for you two to fit in it.

“Are you okay, hun?” He asked, brows furrowed. “We can leave.”

“I’m okay.” You sat on the counter to give him more space, legs dangling in front of you. “Are you? You look pissed as fuck.”

“Being called your dad wasn’t in tonight’s plans.”

“He was exaggerating, Joel.”

You hooked your legs around his waist to pull him closer, looking up at his face. Your hand caressed his scratchy beard slowly as you tried to make him smile. Your soft touch took some of his tension away and he relaxed his tight jaw.

“Did you… insinuate I was your girlfriend?” You finally asked what was on your mind.

“I guess I did. What should I call you?”

“Yours.” You shrugged as you responded.

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in, his lips inviting you to a soft kiss. You tangled your arms around his neck to bring him closer, deepening the exchange as your tongue found his. When he left your lips, his mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck, where he sucked a faint red bruise. You moaned softly, before pushing him away.

“Later.”

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes.

“I promise.” You added.

“It’s just… you in that mini skirt is totally doing it for me.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“That’s the point.”

He left the bathroom after leaving a small kiss on your lips. You followed him back outside, where Sam checked in with you.

“You wanna smoke, babes?” Asked Sam as he gave you a tight hug.

You looked up at your lover, almost asking for permission. He shrugged.

“I’m the driver, so without me. Go ahead, hun.”

While you were sat in a circle smoking with a few friends, some drama unfolded. Darcy emptied her beer on Chad and they both left, yelling at each other.

“Good fucking riddance.” You laughed.

For the rest of the night, Joel stayed by your side, watching over you and making sure you drank plenty of water.

**

You were walking back to his truck, his arm locked tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. He helped you climb to the passenger seat, where you pulled him in for a long kiss. You tasted like weed and cheap alcohol.

“You’re a mess, hun. Let’s get you home.” He pulled away and stroked your cheek affectionately.

You pouted.

“Want you.” You moaned. “You’re so hot.”

He laughed as he climbed in the driver seat, putting a protective hand on your thigh as he backed from the driveway.

Joel didn’t understand. You couldn’t wait. You undid your belt and he looked at you.

“Put your belt back on.”

You shook your head and creeped a hand to his side, feeling his bulge through his tight jeans. He breathed in heavily, looking annoyed.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

With expert fingers, you undid his belt and freed his member from his pants, which was already hard from your past actions. You took the base in hand and took all of it in your mouth. Joel’s fingers were holding on the steering wheel for dear life, his knuckles turning white. He shot a few glances at you, but kept his eyes on the road. He grunted, between anger and arousal. You bobbed your head up and down in a fast pace, feeling the saltiness of his pre-cum on your tongue.

The ride to Joel’s house was a short one, but you did manage to tease him enough. When he was parked, he pulled you off him by your hair.

“Go inside.” He ordered.

You snorted, happy to see him so annoyed. He dressed himself and held you by the arm to pull you inside his house. Once the door was closed, Joel pushed you against it, attacking you with a hungry kiss. Then, he lifted you up and held you as he went up to his room.

“Pull up your skirt.”

You laid on the bed and you did, the fresh air of the room hitting on your wetness. He groaned as he saw that you weren’t wearing anything under the mini skirt. Two fingers crept up inside you without more prep. You were still clouded on weed; you could barely feel the pain.

While he kept fingering you, he pulled down his pants and his boxers, just enough to free his member. He was in a hurry, no time to take off all your clothes. He didn’t seem to care either about making you cum, he just wanted to release the tension. You couldn’t blame him and seeing him so desperate for you sufficed to arouse you.

When the last of his patience disappeared, he pulled your thighs, so you’d be on the edge of the bed as he was on his feet.

“M’gonna make you pay, hun. Want you to feel this tomorrow.”

He buried himself inside of you in one clean movement. You stretched beautifully around him, the rest of your body staying relaxed as you couldn’t even reach him. You were a mere spectator to his pleasure; he was using you.

His name left your lips weakly as he was thrusting deeply into you, keeping a rough space to speed his release. Like he finally remembered you were there, his fingers caressed your bundle of nerves to help you chase your high. When you did, you tightened around him, and he spilled his warm liquid inside of you.

**

Joel was half asleep, looking so peaceful like this, curled up against your back, but your anxiety wouldn’t leave you. The feeling had started when you had “the” talk in the bathroom, it had left for a bit, but it started to get heavy again.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He sleepily asked.

“You know… we don’t have to… I just don’t… I just don’t wanna break your heart.”

“What are you talking about?” He grumbled.

“Seriously. We don’t have to be a thing. You know I’m going back to New York at the start of the semester…”

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on.” He seemed more awake when you turned around to look at him, eyes glowing with tears. Joel wiped them away and kissed your forehead. “Let’s not make this complicated, hun. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. You’ll always come back to me or I’ll get to you.”

“You have your own life here, with Sarah…”

“Then I’ll build you your own Broadway here if that makes it easier for us.”

You smiled through your tears and he hugged you tighter.

#Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #db ! joel miller #dbf ! joel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x you

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, language

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

February 2004

Des Moines, IA

You gripped your knife tightly in your fist, the blade pointed towards the ground as you crouched silently forward, choosing your steps very carefully. About 5 feet away from the runner, you stupidly stepped on a piece of glass you didn't notice embedded on the thin carpet. The runner whipped around with a scream, lunging towards you snapping its teeth in the air. You sidestepped it at the last minute, kicking and making it fall face first onto the ground. You jumped on its back and jammed your knife deep into its skull, blood dripping down to absorb into the floor as you panted heavily.

"What the hell was that?!" Joel yelled, whipping the back door open. You felt the cold blast of air hit you, even from all the way across the restaurant. You tugged on your knife, removing it from the runner's head and wiped it on the back of its shirt before putting the knife back on your hip.

"There was one left, must've missed it," you called back to him, brushing yourself off and walking towards the back of the room.

"Shit, I swore I got 'em all. You good?" He said, looking you over with his flashlight as you approached. You held up your hand to your eyes to block the beam of light.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I fucked up," you said, lowering your hand when he aimed his light down, satisfied you were not harmed. "I stepped on some glass, had to get creative. You think we can stay here the night? I think these cushions come off the booths. Not sure we can find any extra blankets here, though."

"We can put on layers, we've been through worse," Joel said, already yanking on some of the booth cushions, pulling a few out on the floor to sleep on.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then check the kitchen. I'll be right back," you dropped your pack on the ground and strolled off towards the women’s room in the corner. Once you were done, you stared at yourself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, shocked to see how different you looked. You hadn't seen a mirror in several weeks. Your face looked more hollow, you definitely had lost some weight. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail you typically kept, realizing that it was the longest you’ve seen it since you were little. You tried running your fingers through it to manage it a bit, but it seemed hopeless. You gathered your hair back behind your head and slid the hair-tie over it once again.

You didn't find much left in the restaurant kitchen, which was a huge disappointment. You were running low on food, having walked through thick forests and then open prairies for the past two weeks, not coming across any shelters to raid. Joel had purposely redirected you to this city in the hopes of restocking your food supplies and taking a short break from sleeping in the freezing cold wilderness. Luckily, your bow and arrows proved very useful, and kept the two of you fed when you had barely anything else to survive. Joel had never used a bow before yours, so you had taught him the basics from what you could remember. He seemed to have a knack for survival. He caught on very quickly and soon became better with it than you.

You sighed as you opened the last cupboard door, finding it just as empty as the rest. You were about to close it when a colorful wrapper caught your eye, shoved all the way in the back behind some pots. You reached your arm in as far as it could go, your fingertips barely grazing the item before you managed to pull it forward a smidge and grab it. You could have cried you were so happy with what you found.

“Joel!” you called out as you walked back into the dining room, heading towards the small lit up area he made for the two of you and your sleeping bag already rolled out on your cushion. “You’ll never believe what I found!”

He turned around from adjusting his own sleeping bag. He immediately spotted the jar in your hand and groaned. “Peanut butter!” he exclaimed with relief, “Fuck yes.” He sat down on his cushion to dig out the spoons from your packs. You both ate in silence, enjoying eating something other than rabbit or squirrel for the first time in weeks. You still had some provisions in your packs that lasted you about a week after you left Chicago, but as you traveled more out west, the options became limited, and the weather slowed you down significantly, causing you to eat through a lot of your food. You had become dependent on the wildlife for sustenance, and you got lucky, but it was getting old.

Joel had been kind enough to bury your parents before you moved on. He didn’t want you to have to help carry their bodies, so he had to make do with burying them where they were killed. He found a broken shovel about half a mile down the road in an abandoned mechanic’s shop, and it took him the rest of the day, but he made sure they were taken care of. He even found some large rocks to mark their graves. He was worried about you for a long time after that. You were distant and didn’t speak much. He didn't know what to do, other than giving you space and time to process your grief, while taking on as many of the responsibilities he could to keep you both alive. He insisted on being the one to hunt as often as possible. He sought out as many safe places indoors to set up camp as he could, even if it meant wasting half the day’s sunlight, he would sacrifice it so you would be more comfortable. He stayed in those places a day or two longer than he wanted, just so you could possibly sleep a little more soundly. It hardly mattered anyway: he wasn’t convinced he would ever find Tommy, or even if he was still alive. There didn’t seem to be much rush to your journey anymore, but it gave you something to fight for, so he kept pushing forward.

Then, one day, he did something to make you laugh. He couldn't even remember what it was, but hearing the sound made him desperate to make you do it again. So, the next day, he tried telling you a shitty joke, and you laughed again. Every time he heard it, he felt his chest loosen and his breathing eased. You seemed like yourself again, but he could tell the deaths of your parents changed you. You became more hardened, more focused, and angrier at the world around you. He noticed the way you took down infected with such ferocity, such disdain. It used to bother you, but now you could kill one without blinking an eye. He knew it was foolish to expect your innocence to remain intact, but every night he still wished he could somehow shield you from it all.

Somewhat full, you laid down on your cushion and wrapped yourself in your sleeping bag, exhaling softly and closing your eyes. Joel gazed at you a little longer than he should have before he leaned over to turn the lanterns off. Tomorrow, he knew you would have to venture back out into the cold and find some more food. He had hoped this restaurant would have had more than enough, but someone before him must have thought the same thing. He turned his head to glance over at you again in the darkness, listening to your steady breathing. He still ached for you, desperately. He hoped he didn't read the signals wrong that morning in your bedroom - there was no way he could have - but the more time that passed, the more unsure of himself he became. He was so close. So close to tasting you again, holding you in his arms, protecting you from the evil surrounding you.

He stared up at the ceiling and focused on falling asleep. He needed to be alert and well rested so you could finally find some food and get back on the road.

The two of you were walking down the street the next morning after having eaten the rest of the peanut butter and not much else. This part of town seemed to be abandoned by people, but you did come across a few infected. Most of the time, you heard them clamoring about in a closed up building you passed, but a few did cross your path that you had to take down. Joel had a theory that the infected slowed down in the colder months, that maybe they went dormant, or it was just harder for them to move. Whatever the reason, he seemed to be right. Even when you did come across one, they seemed a lot slower, making your job much easier.

As you made your way towards the end of the road, the houses and trees cleared and you could see further ahead, smiling when you saw a familiar logo. You turned to Joel, who seemed to notice it, too.

"I don't think I've ever been so excited to see a Walmart before," you said, smiling in his direction. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's a big store, we gotta be real careful. Ain't no way we can clear the whole place by ourselves," he told you as you entered the parking lot. "Gotta stay close together and be silent. No guns. Let's just stick to the grocery section, take what we need, and get the hell out." You nodded, looking at the building as you approached it from the outside, trying to listen for any noise coming from within. Joel put his hand out on your arm to stop you, making you twist around and giving him a confused look.

"I mean it," he said, looking serious. "Could be a whole hoard in there. And it'll be dark. It's risky."

"I know, I'll be careful, I promise," you gave him a look just as serious to prove you were paying attention. His eyes shifted back and forth between yours before nodding his head in the direction of the store.

You both stepped quietly inside the store through the broken sliding door, clicking on your flashlights and looking at your surroundings before making a move. Your attention went up to the signs hanging above the aisles, spotting the grocery section was straight ahead past the cash registers. The two of you crept forward, careful not to step on anything that would give away your position. You walked through the bakery, surrounded by moldy bread. So far, the place seemed quiet, but that didn't necessarily mean it was empty.

The store was reasonably picked over but there were a few things left on the shelves you could use. You packed your bag with rice, chicken broth, a few cans of dented soup, and a jar of pasta sauce. For the sake of being extra quiet, you motioned with your finger for Joel to step forward, and you stretched to whisper in his ear.

"We should check out the stock room," you said quietly, your breath tickling his neck. It wasn't the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded and suppressed the urge to shudder. He picked up his bag and led you to the end of the aisle, looking both ways before leading you to the swinging doors on the wall. Joel held out a hand for you to stay put while he pushed the door open a crack, sweeping his flashlight across the room. It had aisles, just like the store, but it wasn't as neatly organized. Once he confirmed it was safe, you both entered, scanning the shelves to pinpoint where the groceries were stocked. Your flashlight landed on a corner of the room where you recognized boxes of crackers and cans of vegetables. You nudged him with your elbow, and you both made your way over, checking down every aisle before advancing.

Your jaw dropped at the amount of food that was left. Someone had the same idea as you, it wasn't fully stocked, but it was much more well stocked than the shelves out front. You hurriedly packed your bags with as many useful items as you could carry. You were so hungry, but you had to resist the urge to rip into anything right then and there, afraid the noise of a wrapper would possibly draw attention.

You were just finishing up when Joel wandered towards the end of the aisle, his flashlight settling on something shiny the next aisle over. He squinted and bent down to get a closer look through the shelves. By the time he realized he was looking at blood pooling around a dead clicker, it was too late. A pair of arms reached out behind him, yanking him backwards. A hand covered his mouth and an arm squeezed around his neck, making his vision go fuzzy. His eyes shot over to you in a panic. You were still crouching over your backpacks, facing away from him, and zipping them closed. He brought his hands up and laced them together before driving his elbow behind him, hitting the man right in the diaphragm. The grip on his throat instantly loosened and the man doubled over coughing. You whipped around now, your knife already in your hand. You watched as Joel brought his knee up to the man's face twice, blood bursting from his mouth and nose, staining Joel's pants. Joel drove his knife into the man's eye, his body twitching before slumping on the floor at his feet.

Joel looked up just in time to see you dodging the knife of a second man, kicking him in the groin before shoving your knife between his ribs. He ran down the aisle to you, hearing the man's raspy breaths as blood filled his lungs. You pulled your knife out and stabbed him again, this time closer to the heart. The raspy breathing stopped, and his body relaxed against the linoleum floor. Joel sighed in relief, slowing his pace, his heart pounding.

Then he felt something hard hit the back of his head, causing him to fall forward, his vision narrowing as he fought the urge to pass out. Joel felt the heavy boot of his attacker sticking to his back as he tried to push himself up, but his head was swimming, and he couldn't find the strength. He collapsed back on the floor with a grunt, blinking his eyes frantically trying to clear his vision. He was struggling to breathe with the weight of the man's foot pressed on his back, and once again raised himself up to try and roll over when the pressure on his back was suddenly gone. He gasped for breath, pulling himself into a seated position and shaking his head wildly, his vision finally clearing.

You had tackled and pinned Joel's attacker on the ground, sitting on his chest as you struggled with his knife between the two of you, the blade pointed downwards towards his throat as you gritted your teeth and pushed down with everything you had. His feet kicked wildly underneath you, trying to roll you off, but you weren't budging, your eyes burning into his as the blade scratched at his throat. Joel stumbled to his feet, still dizzy, as he struggled to make his way towards you. With a loud grunt, you put all your weight onto the hilt of the knife, lifting off his chest and finally piercing through his skin until you could feel the tip of the knife make contact with the linoleum. He laid underneath you gurgling as blood poured from his neck, his eyes wild with fear. You panted heavily, letting your muscles relax after the strenuous fight. With your weight off his chest, the man was able to grab a second knife you hadn't noticed from his belt and stabbed frantically at your side, which you tried to swat away before his arm grew weak and he stopped breathing.

Joel's arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the dead man, turning you around to look at you closer with his flashlight. Your face was splattered with blood, your hair wild, covered with sweat and still gasping for air. He aimed his flashlight lower and noticed a big red circle of blood staining the side of your t-shirt. His breath caught in his throat and the adrenaline sharpened his vision as he lifted your shirt up gingerly. You winced when the fabric peeled away from your skin, not realizing you had been hurt until that moment.

"Oh, fuck," Joel whispered and his breathing picked up as he glanced around for something to stop the bleeding. You had been stabbed along your ribs and down your side. He couldn't tell how deep the wound was in the dark, but it was enough to cause you to bleed heavily. He grabbed a used rag from his jeans pocket, pressing on your wound firmly, making you cry out in pain. He wrapped your hands over the rag and instructed you to press as hard as you could. He ran back to grab your packs, slinging both backpacks, the rifle and the bow over his shoulder. When you saw him trying to pull everything onto his back, you held your hand out to him.

"Give me my pack," you rasped. He shook his head, still trying to find a way to carry it all. "Give it to me!" you raised your voice in a harsh whisper now, giving him a look that meant were serious. He relented, gently putting the straps over your shoulders, then pulling out a new rag to wedge between your side wound and the strap of your backpack.

You leaned on Joel as he led you out of the back room, pausing briefly to make sure there weren’t any others, then headed back towards the front door. It began snowing while you were inside, and the wind was picking up, making it difficult to see. He looked around, desperately trying to find a safe place to take you.

Across the street he could make out a strip mall, and one of the buildings looked like it was a dentist's office. It was a long walk across the big parking lot, but he moved as fast as he could while you leaned on him for support. He propped you up against the building to catch your breath as he used his knife to work the lock of the office open.

"Stay here," he instructed. You nodded weakly; your eyes half closed. He pushed the door open and checked to make sure the small office was empty of threats before taking you inside. He helped you sit down in one of the exam chairs, pushing it back so it reclined. You stared up at the ceiling and at the lamp dangling over your face. Joel pushed the curtains open in the room and looked down at the wound on your ribs, noticing the amount of blood increased due to the walk across the street: it was now trailing down past your hips and nearly touching your mid-thigh. He took the soiled rag from your hand and replaced it with a fresh one while he went to work ripping open drawers and cabinets. He finally found a needle and thread and a stack of stainless-steel bowls. He set the needle aside and picked up some of the bowls.

"You keep pressin' as hard as you can, you hear me?" he said, and you nodded as you draped your other arm across your eyes. "I gotta go out and get some snow, I'll be back in a minute. You holler if you need anythin'."

Joel stepped out the door with the bowls in his hand, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. He scooped up snow into the bowls, grateful it had begun to storm since it would hide your tracks and keep any raiders away.

He came back into the room and saw you had nearly bled through another rag. He set a couple bowls aside to melt into drinkable water and took a handful from another, pressing it against your wound. You hissed at the contact, but after a minute the numbness from the cold made your muscles relax.

Joel dug around in his pack to find some rubbing alcohol he had taken from your apartment months ago. He found another clean rag to drench the alcohol in and removed the snow from your side.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt. You need to hold onto somethin’?” he asked you, trying to hide the tremor in his hand. You shook your head, turning your face away from him and gripped the arm of the chair anyway. He pressed the alcohol-soaked rag onto the stab wound, finally cleaning some of the blood away to get a better look at what he was dealing with. You groaned and your body tensed, but you remained as still as possible while he cleaned you up. He could see a stab wound between two of your ribs. It didn’t look very deep, but it was wide. He made his way down your side, cleaning the blood up as he went with the snow and then the rag, refreshing it with alcohol when he needed to. There was a longer gash down the length of your side, maybe about five inches long. It was wide, but it was shallow. There were a few other scratches as well, but those would be fine to heal on their own. He gauged the main problem would be the wound between your ribs, and the long gash.

He turned around to prep the needle, filling a bowl with some rubbing alcohol and pulled out more rags. Turning back to you, he was startled to find you looking at him. He swallowed, bringing the needle and black thread towards you.

“Are you ready?” he asked you, and you nodded steadily, but he could see the fear in your eyes. He laid a hand on top of one of yours reassuringly. “I got this, I got you,” he said. You turned away from him then, staring at the wall opposite you as you braced for the pain. The first few times he pierced you with the needle hurt the most, then as you got used to the pain and knew what to expect, it got a little easier to handle. He took his time with the stab wound, he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to redo that later, then let you have a break before starting on the long gash. He told you it would only need a few stitches, just where the wound was the widest so it wouldn’t scar too badly. That part ended up hurting the most since it was closer to the bones of your ribs and there was less fat to cushion the pain.

Once the stitches were done, he rinsed everything with the rubbing alcohol from the bowl, his hands and needle included. He made a mental note to keep that needle in his pack in case one of you got hurt again.

“You hungry?” Joel asked you, and you nodded eagerly but then winced at the pain the movement caused. He dug around in his pack for some of the food you had grabbed from Walmart and set you up with a few things to eat, then went to explore the rest of the office in hopes of finding some medicine. He got lucky in the dentist’s actual office, finding a few bottles of antibiotics and some pain killers in his desk drawer. He made sure you took two antibiotics with your food before finding something to eat for himself. He sat hunched over against the wall in the room, looking down at his food and avoiding eye contact. You adjusted yourself in the chair so you could look at him and let out a whimper when the movement was too much. He shot up to help you, but you waved him off.

“What’s going on?” you asked him directly, staring him down. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with grief and anger.

“This was my fault,” he said bluntly, a clipped tone to his voice.  “I wasn’t payin’ attention, I should’ve seen that guy comin’, and it got you hurt. If somethin’ worse woulda happened, I never would’ve forgiven myself,” his voice broke at the end of his sentence, looking away from you so you couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. We got jumped, don't beat yourself up about it. Please," you told him, trying to catch his eye again but failing. "Joel?" you said, but he turned away, rubbing his hands up and down his face like he always does when he's frustrated. "Joel!" you called out again, this time more firmly. He stilled, and slowly turned to face you, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Us or them," you said, staring intently at him, desperately trying to communicate the words you couldn't say.

He let out a shaky sigh, and nodded, breaking eye contact with you and gazed out the window at the snow fall. "Shoulda been me," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well," you grunted as you struggled to sit up in the chair, "I'm glad it wasn't because I couldn't carry all our stuff and you out of there," he turned his head to look back at you, then giving him a smirk, added, "I would've left you for dead."

His lips twitched as he tried to hold back his grin at your joke, not ready to forgive himself yet. He cleared his throat and leaned over to sling your backpacks over his shoulders.

"The dentist had a couch in his office. C'mon, grab my shoulder, lean on me," he said, bending forward so you could get yourself into a standing position. It took a few tries; the pain was worse than you had expected now that you were moving. You slowly ambled down the hall with Joel, and he got you stretched out on the couch before he unzipped your sleeping bag and rested it on top of you like a blanket.

He rolled his own sleeping bag out on the floor next to you, grateful the couch came with two pillows. It had been a long time since either of you slept on one. It was still daylight out, but the blizzard made it darker outside. Joel let you rest while he went around the office to see if there was anything else of use now that he wasn't so frantic. He had completely missed the small break room towards the back of the building. He found some unopened bottles of water, snacks, a couple cans of soup and crackers. He spread all the usable food out on the table but brought the crackers back with him to check on you. You were still laying stiffly on the couch and staring at a stock photo of a beach on the wall, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you in pain? I got some pills from the drawer," Joel dug out the bottle and read the warning label. "They sound pretty strong." You shook your head, not wanting to dull your senses in case of another attack, but now that the stiffness was setting in, the pain was getting worse. You glanced out the window, seeing the storm outside. Deciding it was unlikely anyone would be out in the snow and find you, you changed your mind and stuck your hand out to him. He dropped two pills into your hand and gave you a water bottle.

"Here, have a little somethin’ more to eat with those, don't need you gettin' sick," he said, offering the crackers in your direction. You took the sleeve from him and munched on one slowly as you waited for the pills to kick in. Joel walked around to the desk and collapsed into the leather chair, kicking his feet up on the desktop and mindlessly flipped through open patient charts left on the desk. You shoved another cracker in your mouth and watched the snow coming down outside. You sat up a little more on the couch. The movement made you feel dizzy from the pills, but you hardly felt a thing at your side when you moved. Your eyes drifted lazily to Joel’s broad figure sitting behind the wooden desk. It brought back memories you hadn’t thought about in months. Memories of a different time, when you would sit on the other side of his desk all flustered and nervous.

He looked up and caught you staring at him. “What?” he asked, a bemused expression on his face. You shook your head but couldn’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. Goddamn pills.

“Nothing, it’s just funny…” you started, trailing off and then giggled, causing Joel to raise his eyebrows and grin.

“Those pills must be workin’, huh?” he asked, his grin widening. You nodded, stifling your giggles and took a deep breath.

“I was just thinking, everyone used to be so scared of you in the office, they would warn me to steer clear of you, that you had a horrible temper. And look at us now,” you let out another giggle before continuing. “What the hell happened?”

He smiled at you again and tipped his head back on the top of the leather chair to look up towards the ceiling, remembering life the way it was before.

“Yeah, I was an asshole, wasn’t I?” he said, making you laugh harder now, then you clutched your side with a small wince. “Hey, take it easy, you might not feel anythin’ but you can still pop a stitch.” You quieted your laughter now, knowing he was right, and chewed the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, reminiscing about those days just 6 short months ago. Joel rolled his head to the side to look at you. “I didn’t scare you, though,” he said quietly, not sure why he was encouraging you while you were in this state.

You glanced back at him and shook your head, then held up one finger. “Only once,” you said definitively.

He stared at you and held his breath. He knew exactly what you were referring to: the argument the two of you had that was never brought up again. The day he called you a whore and ruined everything. He was the first to look away, casting his gaze back down on the desk before him. He should have apologized by now, he should have explained himself, but he always found an excuse to avoid it. Today’s excuse was you were too loopy on the pain pills and that conversation needed to happen when you both had a clear head. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you waited for him to say something. Anything to take back what he said. 

“I think you should get some sleep,” he finally told you, dropping his hand and looking up at you. You knew he was going to avoid talking about it, but you were still disappointed. The pills had really taken effect now as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You sighed, scooting down to lay flat on the couch and pulling your sleeping bag over you. You closed your eyes but couldn’t resist saying one more thing.

“I would do anything for you,” you whispered before nodding off. Joel’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as he tried to hold back the tears that unexpectedly sprung to his eyes.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, but you were already asleep.

The storm let up after another day, which was just as well since it allowed you more time to heal. Joel didn’t want to stay long at this place, worried that the attackers had a larger group and would come looking for you. Once the snow stopped and you had replenished your backpacks with more rags, first aid, and the food from the break room, you were off at first light. You both realized quickly that you were making terrible time since the snow was knee deep and you were already struggling to stay balanced due to your injury. After a very slow mile, Joel had found a sturdy fallen branch for you that he broke down into a more manageable size, allowing you to use it like a cane in the snow. You had to admit that it made traveling a lot easier, but you were still fighting to hide the throbbing pain at your side. After another hour, Joel agreed to let you rest. He made sure you took your antibiotic and ate some more crackers. Your feet felt numb, even though you had 3 pairs of socks and thick hiking boots.

"Joel," you whined, looking up at him standing guard as he surveyed the thick forest around you. "How much longer are we going to walk? This snow is so deep, and my side is killing me."

"I gotta find us somewhere safe, then we can stay there til you're all healed up and we'll wait out the rest of winter, I promise," he said, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze, "I'm gonna take care of you."

You sighed and regretted complaining almost immediately. You could tell he was still beating himself up over how you got injured and you didn't want to keep reminding him of it. He was shouldering too many responsibilities and you could see the worry and anxiety behind his eyes.

"Alright, let's get moving, I'm good," you said, using your stick to pull yourself back up into a standing position. Joel glanced over you once more to make sure you were, in fact, 'good' like you claimed. Satisfied, he turned and led you through the woods. The trees were thick, mostly pine trees that kept all their needles in the winter. It was good to keep you hidden but it was also bad because it could keep someone else hidden, too.

After another few miles, Joel paused a moment to examine his map. He had a general idea where you were, but he didn’t exactly have a destination in mind. He just figured he would know it when he saw it, and it turned out, he was right.

His head was down examining the map in his hands as he walked through the forest and approaching a clearing. Now he wasn’t sure he knew where you were, since the location on the map still showed greenery up ahead. He was mumbling to himself about getting turned around when you gasped, and his head shot up.

You had stumbled across a small neighborhood of about ten or twelve houses, all surrounded by the lush forest you had just hiked through. He had to blink a few times, feeling like he was looking at an oasis in the desert. As you approached the neighborhood, you passed a sign that read 'Hidden Springs - lots starting at $200,000'.

"Man, they really knew what they were doing when they named this place," you joked as you walked side by side down the abandoned street. The houses were all finished except for three which were partially constructed, forever frozen in time.

"This must be a new neighborhood, that's why it ain't showing up on the map," Joel said excitedly as he spun around to make sure you were still alone. "I haven't seen any tracks or smoke or nothin', this place is off the grid," he turned to smile at you. "We can work with this."

You grinned happily, so relieved to finally have found a place where you could rest for more than a couple nights.

"Well, which house d'you want?" Joel asked, looking at all the houses up and down. They were mostly two-story houses, but there were a couple of small ranch homes interspersed. You spotted one in the middle of the neighborhood on your right-hand side and pointed to it. it was a white two-story house with blue shutters and a red door.

"I've always wanted a wraparound porch," you said. "What do you think?" He couldn't keep the smile off his face, the whole place seemed too good to be true and best of all, you would be happy and safe.

He made his way up the front porch to peer inside the windows. He didn't see any movement, and fortunately it looked like the previous owners had a chance to move in, spotting the fully furnished living room. He had insisted on making you wait outside until he could be certain the place was abandoned before letting you in. The house was beautiful and practically brand new. You drifted from room to room to get a feel for the layout: the stairs and a hallway leading to the kitchen faced you right as you walked in the front door, a living room to your right and a den to your left, and a half bath attached to the hallway. The kitchen had a small mudroom attached, which led to the backyard. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom was the only room that had windows facing the front of the house, so you chose to stay in that room, both of you slipping into the king size bed without even questioning if you should sleep apart.

Chapter Thirteen

Taglist: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

[writethebodyelectric]

To Love, Honor, and Obey

A John F. Kennedy Fanfiction

Summary: In the late 1950s, your husband, Senator John F. Kennedy, brings you to dinner with his congressmen colleagues. When you start to tease him under the table, you quickly realize you may have bit off more than you can chew.

Further Information: 18+, includes smut, swearing, public humiliation, and maybe dubious consent

Word Count: 2.7k

When Jack had asked you to accompany him and his brother to a ritzy restaurant downtown to celebrate the bill he passed to increase the minimum wage, you’d eagerly accepted. As much as you cherished your peaceful nights alone with the baby, you’d been missing Jack a great deal. His long hours at the capitol building and regular trips back to Massachusetts in tandem with your new-mother exhaustion meant that, lately, the majority of your interactions consisted solely of you blinking suddenly and blearily awake in the evening to him bunching your nightgown skirt up into your armpits for a quick fuck before he, too, rolled over and passed out. When you woke back up in the morning, naked and sore, he was gone again.

That isn’t to say you disliked these little late-night rendezvous of yours, though. In fact, you had a particularly mouth-watering, albeit hazy, memory from the night just before he’d asked you to dinner—you’d been laying half-asleep on top of him, moaning languidly as you enjoyed the rhythmic jerk of his hips into yours, when suddenly he cupped your face in his big, calloused hand and said, “Look at me, honey,” then reached his climax at the exact moment the two of you locked eyes, rolling his head back and muffling a groan through clenched teeth. You figured it was the total, submissive surrender he saw in your woozy gaze, a look he knew only he would ever see, that really did it for him. These encounters were bound to result in another pregnancy soon, which was yet another reason for you to appreciate them. Jack’s menagerie of siblings loved to half-jokingly remind you that a Catholic marriage wasn’t truly successful until it produced at least five children.

But, regardless of the intermittent fun you and Jack still had, you’d been excited by the prospect of some long-overdue actual conversation between the two of you that this dinner could offer. But once two whole hours had passed after you sat down and you and Jack had hardly said more than a few sentences to each other, you realized how foolish you’d been to hope for anything more.

You were seated at a large booth in the back corner of the restaurant with Jack’s brother Bob, Bob’s wife Ethel, and a few other senators and their wives. As if that wasn’t already enough to steal Jack’s attention away, to your chagrin, your little section had seemed to transform into the social hub of D.C. almost as soon as you all arrived.

You didn’t think you would ever grow accustomed to how similar this supposed democratic utopian city could be to the average American high school—everyone knew each other, and everyone wanted to be seen rubbing elbows with the popular kids. Years ago, your husband had gladly assumed the role of D.C.’s reigning prom king (whether this was fortunate or unfortunate for you, you still weren’t sure), which meant that every five minutes or so, a new politician or CEO would materialize through the thick ring of cigar smoke surrounding your table and practically dive forward to shake Jack’s hand, effusively congratulating him on his new bill. Vice President Richard Nixon had actually pulled up a chair and sat down with you all for half an hour.

You were starting to feel sort of like a sulky child waiting for her father to finish mingling at a party—not only because you were more than ten years younger than your husband and probably more than twenty younger than his colleagues, but the constant whirl of booming voices together with the four-piece band blasting swing music from across the room was more than enough for you to quickly abandon any attempt to get a word in edgewise. For a while now, you’d been silently holding Jack’s hand in your lap and twiddling with his long fingers, praying that your constant touch would serve as a subconscious reminder that it was far past your bedtime. All you’d gotten from him so far, though, were the usual check-up glances he’d brush your way every so often, placating you for a brief moment with his gentle smirk. Despite your grievances, you always flashed him a good-humored smile in return. Above all, your appointed duty as Mrs. John F. Kennedy was to follow his lead and make him look good.

You finally reached your wit’s end, though, when Dean Martin (you weren’t fully certain why he was even in town) strolled up with this rosy-cheeked blonde on his arm. You hadn’t the faintest idea who the girl was—yet another of Dean’s extra-marital conquests, surely—but you certainly clocked how beautiful she was and how she couldn’t have been older than twenty. As she sauntered up to your table, you noticed how Jack raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat as if Dean was a waiter who had just arrived with a silver platter. You felt your fingers tighten around his hand.

The first thing the blonde did was, without so much as a glance in your direction, offer Jack her dainty little gloved hand. “Senator Kennedy,” she tittered, “how do you do? It’s such an honor to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” Then she blurted out a surprisingly topical and informed joke about certain dastardly Republican congressmen and their attempts to squash workers’ unions across the country. Like trained dogs, the table waited mid-motion for Jack to break into an approving smile before they all started to chuckle. Then Jack turned to Bob and, with a stream of cigar smoke shooting from his nose, said, “She’s quite the firecracker, eh?” Bob responded with a wolfish, droopy-eyed grin, and the girl let out a chirpy giggle.

You knew you couldn't expect a man to completely ignore such an attractive woman, especially a man with Jack’s appetite (once, at a dinner party a few months into your courtship, he had drunkenly informed you that he suffered horrible migraines whenever he ever went more than twenty-four hours without intercourse). But still, that didn’t mean you would sit idly by while his depraved mind began to wander.

Dean was in the middle of saying, “Jack, the missus looks dashing as always” and you were smiling graciously as, under the table, you made the admittedly desperate, split-second decision to get Jack’s attention by pulling the hem of your cocktail dress up over your knees.

When you placed his hand down on your thigh, covered now only by a thin stocking, you glanced up to see his ears shift backwards on his scalp in a slight, almost-undetectable expression of surprise. “I can’t believe my luck,” he was telling Dean, and then, without missing a beat, he turned to wink at you before hooking a finger under one of your garter belt slings and snapping it playfully against your skin, sending sparks up your leg.

This wasn’t the first time he’d touched you below the belt outside the privacy of your home. He was known to occasionally slip his hand up your dress in the back of a limousine or give your butt an appreciative pat while walking behind you at some social event. You would always gasp and squirm away, your cheeks pinching into a nervous smile. But, luckily for him, the toe-curling embarrassment that normally engulfed you at the mere thought of engaging in public sexual behavior felt strangely dull tonight, like the wipsy, half-formed thoughts you had just before you fell asleep—maybe this sudden shift was, as a matter of fact, a result of how deliriously tired you were.

While Jack continued to talk to Dean, you grabbed his wrist and tugged it a tiny bit further up your thigh. You watched his nostrils flare as if someone had just told him a joke he wasn’t sure he should laugh at.

Once his initial shock at your change of heart regarding public affection wore off, you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to keep moving his hand further and further up your leg. This would not only serve to keep his focus on you and you alone for the rest of the night, but it would ensure that this wearisome dinner wouldn’t go on for too much longer. You fully expected Jack to take you home within ten minutes of him first touching your leg so that he could properly satisfy his newly-stoked sexual hunger.

But then, your whole body twinged as, in one abrupt movement, he completely overrode your little plan and went to press his knuckle against the fabric covering your labia. Instinctively, you grabbed onto his bicep with the ferocity of someone trying to catch their balance before they fell.

“You alright there, Mrs. Kennedy?” Dean asked.

You snapped your head to look up at him. His bushy eyebrows hooked towards each other in concern.

“Oh,” you said, “yes….” Your forehead flared with heat as you tried to think of an excuse as to why you’d latched onto your husband so abrasively. The sizzling of Jack’s mischievous gaze into the side of your face certainly wasn’t helping. What in heaven’s name was he playing at? Rubbing your panties in the backseat of a car was one thing—but at a crowded restaurant? Right next to Bob and Ethel?

After just a beat too long, you finally decided to tell Dean, “I just—Jack and I just love this song.” Jaw clenched, you forced yourself to turn and beam up at your husband as the band floated through the opening notes of “I’ve Got a Crush on You.”

“Oh, we sure do,” Jack said emphatically, which was jarring when paired with the way he then tilted his head down at you like a professor who’d just caught his student in a fib. You were almost entirely certain the two of you had never before listened to this song together.

Jack was still boring into you with those intense, dark-sea eyes as he angled his knuckle up towards your clit and began rubbing up and down, up and down. Against your will, your stomach seized with pleasure, and you dug your nails into his arm.

By the grace of God, one of the other senators’ wives piped up then, keeping the conversation seamlessly flowing. “Donna and I saw Sinatra perform this song in Vegas,” she said. Once all eyes had swiveled over to her and the table began to discuss this revelation, Jack took the opportunity to lean clandestinely towards you.

“You know better than to start something you can’t finish, kid,” he murmured into your ear. You felt your spine lock up, an instinctive reaction to this particular dark and unpredictable tone of his. You forced yourself to take deep, slow breaths through your nose. Cigar smoke puffed against your cheek and billowed across your eyes as Jack continued, “Is this all because of her?”

You turned, the bridge of your nose skimming across his, in time to watch him cock his head in the direction of Dean’s date. You glanced over toward her, and you were mildly startled to find that she was looking right back at you. With a too-wide smile plastered on her face at whatever one of the other senators was saying, she looked quickly back and forth between you and Jack—at the way he loomed over you while you likely appeared oddly stiff and flustered-looking—before turning sharply away.

You lifted a hand and pressed the backside of your trembling, manicured fingers against your cheek. As you’d suspected, your skin was burning to the touch and only blazing hotter as your thoughts began to run amok. The blonde couldn’t possibly suspect something was going on under the table, could she?

Meanwhile, Jack took your stupefied silence as a “yes” in response to his question and clicked his tongue in a quiet tsk-tsk. “I thought so,” he said. “I wish you wouldn’t worry about other girls. You’re much prettier than she is.”

“Jack—” You were interrupted by the squeak that popped from your mouth as he increased his pressure on your clit. You clenched your legs around his forearm in a futile attempt to stop him.

“What?” he breathed, undeterred.

When you tried again to speak, your voice sounded small and distant under the sickening throbbing sensations that blared like alarm bells through your midsection. “You’re the devil.”

He gasped softly in mock outrage. “The devil?”

Despite it all, you couldn't help but let out a little wheezing laugh at your own melodrama. “Yes.”

He chuckled, too, and you thought he was about to say something else when one of his senator cronies said, “Isn’t that right, Jack?”

After searing you with a smoky look that clearly meant Don’t think I’m done with you yet, Jack leaned back to rejoin the conversation with startling ease. He puffed on his cigar and, with one relentless hand still tucked under your skirt, said, “Well, I wouldn’t blame Ives one bit for retiring after the year we’ve had.”

You started to wonder how the hell he had possibly been following the senators’ conversation while simultaneously whispering to you, but you didn’t have much time to ruminate; you could feel yourself growing more and more air-headed with each circle his knuckle made on your clit.

As Jack continued to talk, you were almost certain you saw the blonde’s curious eyes follow the length of his arm down to where it disappeared in your lap. A fresh wave of nauseating embarrassment spilled over you, and you were reminded of a particularly debauched dream you’d had a few months ago in which Jack brought you to one of his Senate hearings and instructed you to give him a blowjob while everyone watched. Strangely, you eagerly complied, gagging and sputtering while the old men around you whistled and cheered Jack on. You woke up feeling sick to your stomach, your heart racing, and yet, you also noticed that yours and Jack’s thighs had gotten all wet with your arousal during the night.

You felt your hips twitch with confused, guilty excitement, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were thinking about that dream or because you were now almost certain that the blonde knew exactly what Jack was doing to you down there. It occurred to you that she was likely jealous. She probably wished she had someone like Jack who would take such good care of her, someone so movie-star handsome, someone who could make her wake up in the morning, gasping, from a horrendously dirty wet dream.

Suddenly, you found yourself dangling right over the edge of orgasm.

As soon as you heard Jack stop talking again, you seized the chance to tug on his shoulder and whisper, “Jack, you can’t—I’m about to….” Apparently, you’d never quite left behind your tenure as a prim Catholic schoolgirl because you simply could not get yourself to say the word “come” in front of all these people, even if only Jack could hear it.

But before Jack could even react, Ethel poked her head out from around his shoulder like an adorable little gopher.

“Y/N,” she said, her mouth melting into a cartoonish, open-mouthed frown, “you don’t look too good, sweetheart.”

The muscles in your body flash-froze as all eyes, once again, turned on you. You knew the proper thing would be to respond somehow, but you kept your lips firmly sealed, paranoid that some kind of wanton moan would tumble out if you opened them. The big, hot water balloon in your lower stomach was stretching, getting ready to pop. Telepathically, you begged Jack, Please, please don’t make me come.

At the very last moment, as if he’d been listening to every single one of your thoughts, Jack yanked his hand away. Eyes fluttering, you planted both hands on the cushion underneath you to brace yourself, feeling suddenly like you’d just finished a sprint. Thankfully, you heard Jack take all the attention off of you as he announced to everyone, “I think Mrs. Kennedy and I are both a little tired. It’s about time for us to head home.”

#john f kennedy x reader #john f kennedy fanfiction #john f kennedy #smut #jfk x you #jfk x reader #jfk #john f kennedy x you

[raspberryjars]

It’s You.

word count: 2,621

summary: hobie’s on the subway when he sees the most beautiful guy he’s ever laid eyes on. unfortunately he doesn’t get his number, name, or even to talk to him. but, what if they met again?

tags: miles morales x hobie brown, miles morales & gwen stacy, hobie brown & gwen stacy, no powers au, subway meet-cute, but also introduced by a friend, they’re all around 20

Tag list!! (Lmk if you would like to be removed or added)

@spo0kypigeon @not-gifted-but-burned-out

His headphones were on, music blasting, and nothing was on his mind except the different possibilities for dinner that night. The noises over the people and trains of the subway muffled as he scrolled aimlessly through his playlist. His eyes glanced up for a second, and shit.

Holy shit. Really that was all he could say. No other words came to mind at the sight. There was this guy, this bloody beautiful guy. He was sitting directly across from him, texting or something. He also had headphones on, some fancy bluetooth ones, the type people put stickers on to make them seem cooler. He wondered what he was listening to, the guy, based on his look it could’ve been some hip-hop, rap, something like that. Maybe not though, he knew better than anyone not to make assumptions based on people's personal styles. This guy could be a die-hard swiftie or something, he didn’t know.

But, God, what he did know was that this guy, no matter the music taste, was absolutely gorgeous. Like not the in-your-face, look-at-me, I’m-amazing, type. More like a cool mysterious way, the way someone that doesn't know they’re stunning is. Yeah, that’s what it was.

He had curly brown hair, tight coils fluffing messily around his head. A glint of a silver nose ring that looked good against his warm skin tone. Full lips that admittedly were a bit chewed up, but honestly who even cares? And christ this guys eyes, big, and brown, and shiny. With long lashes too, he was basically perfect.

And just as he was about to stand up, and sit himself next to this beautiful stranger, the fucking train stopped. Pretty shit timing, and just as he was wondering if he should just do it anyway, the stranger stood up, looked around for a few seconds then walked right out of the doors and away from the possibility of giving Hobie his digits.

Just his luck really.

Alas, not the end of the world really. Plenty of lookers in New York, he’d probably forget about this guy by tomorrow.

*

Shockingly, he did not in fact forget the stranger. The guy had plagued his mind for bloody days since the train. And it really didn’t help that all his New York friends were busy until later in the week, so his only distraction was walking ‘round the city. Which actually made it worse since he’d realised that this mystery lad probably lived around here, meaning they might run into each other, however slim the chances may be.

If he was being honest with himself the guy probably hadn’t even noticed him, too caught up in whoever he was texting. And if he had noticed him, he’d probably been a little weirded out by the staring punk on the tube. Or he had noticed and hadn’t given it a second thought because, to be honest, most people probably don’t think about random strangers for days on end do they?

So, whilst he had nothing better to do other than sit around waiting for Gwen to be free or thinking about this train-guy. He’d taken to walking around the city, up and down streets, round and round subway stations, through alleys and side streets, pretty much anywhere that looked interesting. Just listening to the streets was cool enough. What people were doing, where they were going, what people were wearing was cool too.

But the main thing that was on his mind, obviously, was train-guy. Whether he liked it or not the guy had wormed his way in and taken over. His days were full of thoughts of warm brown eyes and tight curly hair. Bluetooth headphones and nose rings showed up everywhere he went, and he even had to talk himself out of piercing the other side of his nose so he could buy himself one too.

He was fucking obsessed with this guy and he was never going to see him. Ever.

*

(23:57) FROM: Gwendy

hey hobes. free tmrw if u wanna do smthn, lmk.

miles might be there too btw.

miss u.

Fucking finally. It felt like years since he’d arrived on American soil, and even longer since he’d seen Gwen. Seeing her would absolutely take his mind off the mysterious train-guy. He could tell her all about it and she’d laugh, call him stupid and then he’d forget. And god knows it was time he met Miles. He’d heard practically everything about the guy but hadn’t seen or met him somehow, be good to finally put a face to a name.

(00:02) TO: Gwendy

yeah sounds good

c u tmrw does 3 work 4 u?

miss u 2 luv x

He heard Gwen’s reply ping on his phone but he ignored it in favour of staring at the ceiling of his mate’s mate’s spare room. Finally his boring as shit week would be improved. And just as he drifted into sleep he wondered about what Gwen’s hair might look like and if she knew any boys with dark brown curls.

*

He slowly blinked open his eyes to the same ceiling he’d fallen asleep too, and groaned loudly as he wiped his eyes of sleep. God he hated waking up, it didn’t matter what time it was, you could wake him up at 8 at night and he’d still complain about not sleeping enough.

He rolled over and grabbed his phone from where he’d left it last night, checking his messages with Gwen. Three did work for her, and she can’t wait to see him. He glanced at the time.

Ten-thirty-two, not too bad. He could probably sleep a bit more before he had to get ready. Just to be safe he told Gwen to call him at two, and once he knew that she would, he turned back over and went to sleep once again.

*

He woke with a start to the fucking annoying ring of an iPhone, Gwen had remembered to call.

“Hey Gwendy, what’s new?” He croaked, voice cracking harshly with sleep.

“Nothing really, what about you dude?”

“Not much, I should prob’ly start getting ready, yeah? I’ll see ya soon love.”

“Yeah see you soon man.” Then she must’ve hung up because the line went dead.

He groaned again and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Thinking about what he should wear as he walked to the bathroom. He had his jeans, probably a safe choice, then he’d have to find a shirt, and just his battle jacket should be fine, it’d been a hot week.

He picked up his toothbrush and squeezed out a blob of paste before rinsing it with water. To be honest he could probably just ditch a jacket all together, he thought as he brought his toothbrush to his mouth. Be good to wear it just in case though he decided, rinsing his mouth out as he did so.

He found himself rummaging through his messily packed bag for a shirt, as he’d worn the same one for the last few days. Fucking finally he found one, for some reason he’d brought way too many trousers and the ratio of top to bottoms was way off. He did find some pretty cool tartan pants though, and surprisingly a matching pair of socks. Which with his track record was like spotting a unicorn.

As he finished dressing himself he realised that he should probably ask Gwen exactly what they were going to do and where they were going to go.

(14:18) TO: Gwendy

oi what are we doing 2day

Less than a few seconds later the little bubbles appeared, he liked how fast Gwen replied, practicality and all that.

(14:18) FROM: Gwendy

not too sure.

meet at mine, we can decide later.

see you.

(14:19) TO: Gwendy

k

c in abit x

Another thing he appreciated about Gwen was that she didn’t give two shits about how he texted, he’d had problems with people before because he was ‘too dry’ or something. He never really understood that, he texted how he texted it didn’t matter how he got his point across as long as he did.

He had a few minutes before he needed to leave to go to Gwen’s, so he grabbed his jacket and headed to the kitchen.

He hadn’t seen much of the guy whose place he was staying at. He probably woke up much later or earlier than himself. It didn’t really matter though, not like he was best friends with the guy. Actually he couldn’t even remember his name.

He grabbed an apple and headed over to the doorway, it always took him awhile to put his boots on, good to not rush and stuff.

So as he laced the top few eyelets back up, he wondered about who this Miles guy would be, probably pretty chill if Gwen's stories were anything to go off. Either way it’d be cool to meet him.

He zipped up his boots finally and stood up, grabbing his bag before he left the flat.

He stood outside the door rummaging through his pants for his headphones for a few seconds before finding them. All coiled up, which meant he had to spend some more seconds detangling them so they were wearable.

Once he had his headphones in and his music blasting, he set off. Walking down to the subway, which of course reminded him of the train-guy. But after today he wouldn’t have to think about him too much, thankfully.

As he descended the steps taking him to the underground he kept thinking about the train-guy. It really was a shame he didn’t get his number, he was really fit. And even if he didn’t like guys or whatever, still would’ve been cool to have more friends around here. Give him more people to see other than Gwen.

Unfortunately though, he didn’t get his number, or say anything to the guy. So as he was sitting on the subway, just a few minutes away from Gwen’s place. He thought about what would’ve happened if he had spoken to the guy.

There was no use thinking about it really, but he’s allowed to do something whilst he waits. Free country and all that lying shit.

Just as he could feel his mind slipping into a tangent of the shithole that is America, the subway screeched to a halt and the doors slid open.

Fucking finally. He pushed himself up off of his seat and out the doors, taking note of all the different people around him, as he walked up the stairs he felt the slight breeze return and as he walked down the road he found himself grateful he’d brought his jacket.

He faced her door after a quick climb of the stairs, ringing her bell and ignoring the awkward stares coming from the old couple shuffling past him on the landing. Thankfully just as it looked like one of them was going to say something to him, Gwen’s door opened and Gwen herself stuck her head out.

“Hobie! Hey dude, come on in, Miles isn’t here yet but he’ll come by later, I missed you man!” She grinned. Her hair was shaved on one side and long and pinkish-blonde on the other.

“Hey Gwendy, missed you too,” He laughed back, “Loving the hair, suits you.”

“Yeah thanks!” She said, opening the door further and ushering him through to her living room.

She had a nice place, blue walls covered in stickers and posters, mismatched furniture with assorted blankets and pillows piled up on each piece, and of course the drums in the corner of the room.

“D’You want anything to eat?” She asked.

“Sure I’ll have anything.” He replied, her whole flat screamed her, little bits of Gwen jumping out at him. It was nice to see, it hadn’t been long since she was crashing at his for weeks at a time because she didn’t have a proper place to call home.

Obviously that wasn’t the case anymore, now he could come and crash at her place if he needed too. He was honestly so glad that she’d gotten all her shit sorted.

“Hey man, hope you’re good with whatever these bar things are, my dad dropped them off the other week.” Gwen said as she walked back through.

“Yeah all good no worries love.”

“I’d ask you what you wanted to do but we should wait for Miles before we decide anything, we can do something here if you want though?” She said as she put the box of peanut bars on the coffee table.

“Yeah sure sounds good, now what exactly is a peanut bar?” Hobie laughed. “Is it like, made of peanuts or is it like peanut flavoured?”

“Fuck knows,” Gwen snorted, “My dad keeps leaving loads of shit like this, I think he’s getting them for free from somewhere.”

“Probably.” He agreed, as he reached for one of the bars. “There’s no way he’s actually buying this stuff as a gift for you.”

“Ha, yeah, you never know with him though. He could be in one of his weird phases. Like that time he only ate soup for, like, 6 months.”

“Shit yeah, or when he only wore orange adidas pants when he wasn’t at work?” He smirked as he took a bite. “It’s not too bad though, I’ll be honest.”

Gwen smiled at him, “Yeah they’re okay.” She seemed to want to say more, but the doorbell buzzed suddenly.

“Miles!” She exclaimed. “Seriously man, you’re gonna love him!”

“Yeah I’m sure I will Gwenny.” She was probably right too, the guy did sound quite cool, graffiti artist, crazy smart, into hip-hop and rap. They’d probably end up pretty good friends after today.

He heard the door open and close and then Gwen’s and what was most-likely Miles’ voice as they walked through to where he was. They’d probably leave Gwen’s, go for a walk or something, maybe he’d ask Miles to show him some cool graffiti stuff if he seemed into it.

And just as he was thinking of other things they could do instead of just sitting around at Gwen’s, not that he was seriously opposed to doing so, he saw Miles walk through the doorway. And holy shit.

His luck was unbelievable. There was just no fucking way. Miles was the train-guy.

The same coiled, brown hair, The same silver nose ring, the same fancy headphones around his neck, and christ, the same stunning brown eyes. As he gave him a once over, marvelling at his incredible luck and silently thanking the universe for this second shot at this beautiful guy, Miles must have recognised him too or something.

His eyebrows raised and he stood a little straighter, fighting back a grin, “Holy shit. I saw you on the subway the other day right?”

Holy shit. The train-guy, well Miles really, had noticed him too. This was absolutely the best day of his very dull week, probably the best day of his fucking life.

“Yeah! I remember, you were texting!” Okay that wasn’t weird at all, tell the guy that you took note of and remembered exactly what he was doing why don’t you? He thought to himself. Thankfully, Miles didn’t acknowledge this slightly creepy statement and just grinned back at him.

“Shit wait, Hobie’s the hot punk you saw on the subway the other day? Man if I’d have known I would’ve set you two up or something.” At Gwen’s words, Miles flushed bright pink. It was actually pretty cute if he was being honest.

But also, he, Hobie Brown, was super hot train-guy’s, hot subway punk? Nevermind, this was absolutely the best day of his life.

Lmk what you thought and also check out my ao3!!

#raspberryjars #miles morales #miles spiderman #punkflower #spider punk #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #no powers au #subway meeting #gwen stacy #spider gwen

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

Syzygy: Some Closing Thoughts

I'm writing this at 8pm on my backyard porch, under the wavering light of a distant full moon.  Hello, moon! Please don't kidnap me. I just wanted to hang out with you for a while as I collect my final thoughts. It's a pretty cloudy night tonight, so it's not properly visible, which I suppose is the cloud cover shielding me from a terrible lunar fate. It gives a deliciously hazy atmosphere for the absolute essay I'm about to write.

Apparently, the Farmer's Almanac says that tonight's full moon is a 'Pink Moon', which sounds like it'd be a very pleasant viewing experience. I imagine pastel frangipanis spontaneously sprouting all over the moon's surface, covering every inch of its rocks and crags until the soft pink glow is visible from all the way down here on Earth. Unfortunately it's not named 'Pink Moon' because of that; there's some American environmental factors, etc.

I think it's kind of charming that there's a list of names for every possible full moon, as if the moon's putting on different masks or incarnations every time it tilts just enough that we can see its full face. I'm looking at a list of them now instead of writing these final notes like I probably should. The names are so delightful. Strawberry Moon. Sturgeon Moon. Apparently last month's full moon was Worm Moon. WORM MOON. I could go on. I won't. Let's talk about Syzygy instead.

Syzygy is... Man, where do I even start with this? Let's try the beginning. I started writing Syzygy in February of 2021, after ruminating on it for probably a few months before that, as I often do. That's three years ago, so my memories of the reasons why are a bit fuzzy, but I think I did it for two reasons: one, a desire to have a long-form meaty slowburn fic for a beloved rarepair in the tag so other people could enjoy it, and two, a fascination with the idea of fractured identity, what it means to be a Side without a Centre. The whole thing with the alternate-history steampunk swapped-around Earth came about naturally from that.

Except that's actually kind of a lie, because that's not the beginning, this began in 2020, when I wrote a pitch for a local station that was accepting radio play submissions (rejected, of course) featuring a hardboiled noir detective in a starlit city whose latest client was a tiny shiny girl asking him to solve her father's murder. And that's also a lie, because I think it really began when I tried to write an original novel in high school where the protagonist's name was Avery Allen, because I liked the way the name tripped off my lips.

My stories are always built on each other, especially stories I never get to write. They all recycle into each other in a weird blend of concepts and characters. 2021 was when I sat down and told myself I was going to write the Thomceit time loop fic, and I dove into it with aplomb. I can't recall the exact timeline of events, but at some point I underwent some truly gnarly health problems that left me unable to use my hands for extended periods of time, and so the fic that was meant to be for a Big Bang ended up... Just sitting in a folder for a while. But me and my beta managed to pull it the fuck together, and after adding some extra bits and pieces (the cutaways were a LAST MINUTE ADDITION even though I think they're some of my favorite bits in the whole thing) I started putting it all up.

Okay, there we go, that's enough of an abridged history of this thing. Let's just say: I never expected as many people to like it as it turned out, I thought that it would be a niche little fic for a rarepair, and I was honestly pretty content with that. So it was delightful to see so many people getting so into it, I have enjoyed the FUCK out of all of your comments and theories and predictions. It's been delightful when people predicted a plot point correctly, and honestly even more delightful when they predicted incorrectly. I've had such a blast.

As for the writing... Suffice to say I have many notebooks full of notes and thoughts, more than one spreadsheet to keep track of time loops and lore, and a semi-complete list of all of Virgil's tarot cards, which one day I'll probably polish and share properly, because I think the concept is neat. But that's kind of how it always goes with my writing.

Naming every inspiration for this would take forever and I'd still miss a few, but I'll just throw out a key few ones, because I gotta:

17776: What Will Football Look Like In The Future, because when I first read it I got the wrong idea and thought that Juice (Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer) was short for Betelgeuse (the star), and that sparked a whole thing about living stars in my brain. Also, just the general way that the worldbuilding and absurdity is handled in that world, it scratches my brain just right.

Welcome To Night Vale. I don't think I need to explain this one.

Madeleine L'Engle's writing, particularly A Wind In The Door, particularly-particularly the bit of it where Proginoskes explains why, precisely, he has to remember and Name every star in the universe. Fucking beautiful book.

A particular Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fic I read years ago and haven't been able to track down again, which also features two people stuck in a time loop who are initially unaware that they're in it together AND dying at the same time. I believe they also meet on a bus? The details are fuzzy. The worldbuilding and descriptions of that fic were so stunning to me, it had me unable to read anything for a solid few weeks, it is definitely a superior work to mine in every respect. If anyone finds it, let me know, I don't think I finished reading it and want to know how it ends.

An unpublished fic that I had the privilege to read while it was being written, that changed my brain chemistry re: the Sides unknowingly existing without Thomas. The Flowerwall Cafe originally hails from this one, too, graciously borrowed and greatly beloved.

Both Ghibli films in general AND Dianna Wynne Jones books in general, and obviously the intersection between the two, Howl's Moving Castle, which is fascinating in how both mediums handle the setting.

The Doctor Who audio drama Scherzo, which is a wild ride, and there's a major plot point revolving around the two main characters holding hands and fusing gruesomely into each other - and another involving an in-story fairy tale.

There was no huge inspiration for the clockwork city and weird steampunk carriages, apart from (perhaps) Fallen London. Certainly, the idea of a background organization that wants to kill the sun, who also happens to be a sentient being, is cribbed from the Liberation of Night.

Syzygy also happens to be packed full of many obscure references to... like... personal projects of mine, some published and some unpublished, as well as a lot of my friends and co-writers, and some really REALLY niche stuff that only I will ever properly understand. I buried a lot of myself into this story, is what I'm saying. Juice hails from a completely different project (a TTRPG with my friends, of which she is a beloved and cherished NPC), the in-universe author for Avery Allen (and Mallory Wynn too) are named for a fictional TV author I created when the writing discord was making a nonexistent fandom, Logan's dumpling recipe is my favorite recipe of all time.

I have an apartment ghost, too. I talk to it regularly.

Final thank-yous, because I want to post this very very soon, I've been typing for too long and the mosquitoes are starting to get to me. Thank you to:

Everyone on the TSS writing server who listened to me complain while I was writing it the first time round, and has subsequently listened to me complain while editing it these past two years. So many people in there are responsible for little bits and pieces - phrasings, words, nicknames, jokes - and I couldn't begin to name everyone who helped.

Saphira and the rest of the people who are currently working on making a full-cast audio drama out of this fic (???) (???!!!!??) (!!!!). It is SO baffling to me that it's happening, I'm in complete disbelief whenever we talk about it or I see the script or I get asked logistics questions, I'm terrified and thrilled to see how it turns out, what the fuck! The very existence of that project has ended up influencing a few things about this fic's endgame, too.

Everyone who's commented extensively, commented entire academic analyses, commented numbered lists, commented laconically, left a single emoji in the comments, left kudos, bookmarked it, sent me asks on Tumblr, given me thumbs-ups on Discord, or even just silently read the fic without interacting at all. Your witness brings my words to existence. Love you love you love you.

And Len, who lives in my brain and my body and my heart and my throat, and who is honestly singlehandedly responsible for dragging this fic out of the depths of Google Docs and into the arms of AO3. They've already said I don't need to thank them, but come on, I totally do. Len is the best beta, and puts up with all sorts of deranged nonsense from me, because I have an unhinged writing process where I don't think about anything before I put it down on the page, and I use way too many connecting-dashes and not enough semicolons. Kisses kisses kisses. Thanks for doing this with me, and I can't wait to do it again.

Myself. I managed to write this and I managed to finish it. That makes me a pretty cool person, all things considered. I'm glad I did this.

What next? I've got to rest. Well, I need to get some things done... and then rest. I've been juggling a hellish amount of projects for a while now, and now Syzygy's finally cleared from my plate, I'm going to try to let the others get cleared too so I can take some time and be less stressed. The Locked Tomb AU will be ongoing, as I get through final edits of chapters, so keep an eye out for that - if you're interested in a fic that's rather less starry and shiny, but very much Thomceit and death themes, check it out  - and then....... Well, whatever comes next, whenever I have the energy to do it. I adore writing in this fandom. I'll be back with something weird soon enough.

Ad astra, baby! It's been a blast.

- Min (2024)

#Syzygy #author's note

[blushweddinggowns]

“Just hold still…and done!” Nancy grinned as she capped the eyeliner. She brushed a lock of hair out of his face before declaring, “You’re officially stage-ready.”

Eddie turned to look at himself in the mirror, instantly pleased with what he saw. Steve always said that his big-ass Bambi eyes were his best feature, and the eyeliner really was making them pop. Add that with the tight jeans, the leather jacket, and the combat boots, and Eddie actually looked like he belonged on a stage. 

He looked good, but he only cared so much about his own thoughts, “You think Steve will like it?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Like you have to ask. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Eddie grinned at that. He could only hope that his reaction would be that good, “And it will last all night?”

“At least for 12 hours,” She reassured, “I used the good stuff. This eyeliner lasted on my mom for a fifteen-hour plane ride once, with layovers. You’re ready.”

Eddie nodded. That was basically equivalent to spending a wild night with Steve, the odds were in his favor. He reached over to give Nancy a one-armed hug, taking the time to hover for a second before she gave him a subtle nod. 

“God, you’re such a lifesaver,” Eddie sighed as he squeezed her to his side, “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Nancy snorted, “Are you kidding me? My dad would ground me for the next five years if I got caught. And you know I love you guys but I can barely deal with Steve gushing over you on a normal day, let alone one where you actually look hot.”

“Awwww, you think I’m hot?” Eddie cooed, laughing at the way it made her cringe.

She was already gathering everything back up into her makeup bag, trying and failing to hide her little smile, “Don’t push it.”

But he did, of course he did, the whole way back to the Wheeler house, earning himself a sharp pinch to his arm more than once. He dropped her off at home, promising that they would call her first thing in the morning to say how it went. Then he picked up his boys and the four of them were off, all of them excited out of their minds. 

Eddie had never imagined that he would be playing on a real stage, in a real city. It had been a silly little radio contest for a charity event, first five callers got the privilege to audition to be a one-time opener for Metallica, a band that Eddie adored but the rest of the world hadn’t seemed to have caught on to yet. It was a one-time thing, paired with some great luck for the station to catch them for a single night before their next album release. But still, it was a big deal, especially for people like them that had less than zero connections. Steve was the one who insisted that they call in. Eddie had just never thought that they would have actually won. 

But they had, and the prize was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet a band that Eddie just knew was going to be huge one day. Plus, free hotel rooms for the weekend? What more could a guy ask for? 

It was a fun drive, of course it was. You couldn’t get Eddie, Freak, Gareth, and Jeff in a room together without it being a blast. The only problem was that he already missed Steve. Which was, admittedly, stupid as fuck considering that he’d see him in a matter of hours. He just hated that he had to sneak out for this. Or more aptly, he hated that his parents forced him to sneak out for this. But they had a good plan here. 

He’d lie and say he was going to bed early to prepare some bullshit elaborate date for Nancy, one that would involve him being gone for all of Saturday. He’d sneak out his window by seven, drive the two hours to be there just in time for the curtains opening at nine-thirty. Then they’d spend the night together like they had been every night for years, his parents none the wiser.

The shitheads. 

Saturday night and Sunday would be a little trickier, but Steve was coasting off the fact that his parents usually forgot to say goodbye when they left for a trip. They had a red-eye flight at 3 am, and Nancy was already prepped to make a fake phone call to ask if he could stay for dinner Saturday. With any luck, they would forget about him entirely, both of them too tired to think about the fact that they wouldn't have seen their son for nearly two days. The last bit was more of a gamble, but Steve wasn’t about to let his parents' wrath ruin his shot at a romantic and paid-for weekend with his boyfriend. Besides, when it came to Nancy, his mom basically never questioned anything. Hell, she was basically on the edge of planning their fucking wedding at this point, beyond ecstatic that Steve had finally gotten himself a permanent girlfriend. 

God, that girl really was a lifesaver. Eddie was almost surprised at just how much he liked her, and not even because she was beyond useful when it came to hiding their relationship. She was just…kind of cool? He didn’t know how else to describe it, but her whole gun-toting, no-nonsense, and slightly bitchy persona was really doing it for him. Honestly, on a bad day, Eddie was slightly afraid of her, but he kind of liked that too. The fact that she could go from scarily intense to sarcastically hilarious just equated to a winning personality in his book. And that wasn’t even counting how happy she made Steve, and vice versa. 

Sometimes he’d wander into the room that they were supposed to be studying in, only to find the two of them completely off the rails either talking about their shared passion for musicals, high school gossip, or more often than not, Steve Harrington approved seduction methods for her to try out on Jonathan Beyers. Or Tom Cruise, depending on the timing. 

They wouldn’t even notice that he walked in most of the time, too caught up in laughing with each other. Maybe it was weird, but sometimes Eddie would just watch them for a minute. Steve would be all giggly and smiling and adorable, and it just made Eddie feel warm. Hell, even seeing Nancy happy was enough to make him smile most days, the girl deserved it after everything she’d been through last year. She was a good person and a good friend. And Eddie was going to get her so many corny Indy souvenirs for covering their asses tonight. 

They were all nervous as hell when they finally got there, but actually getting to meet the band while they were setting up went surprisingly well. Though that mostly had to do with the fact that they had prepared for it. They had a fool-proof system of aggressively stepping on each other’s feet when one got a bit too fangirly. And though it left all four with some bruises, it did manage to stop Gareth from telling James Hetfield that he would totally marry him if he was a chick. They made a good impression, Eddie was pretty damn sure of it considering they offered free tickets for their next tour. 

It was fun, even if he was still nervous as all hell when it was their time to play. He had never felt this anxious walking out on stage before. Maybe that had to do with the fact that it was a real stage, but still. He wasn’t the type to be nervous about performing at all, whether that be at the Hideout or hopping on lunch tables for an impassioned speech. 

He swallowed as he looked out into the crowd, heart pounding in his chest as he realized just how many people were there. It was a far cry from the Hideout where they would be lucky to get ten people to actually notice when they were finished. But this had to be a hundred plus. Eddie’s eyes zeroed into the front row, scanning it for the one thing that could calm him down. It didn’t take long to spot him. 

There he was, smack dab in the middle of the row, completely out of place with his adorable pink polo. He was leaning against the railing, hearts in his eyes as he waved up at him. Eddie grinned, his nerves disappearing the second Steve blew him a kiss. Just the sight of him was enough to bring Eddie back down to earth.

He stepped up to the mic, guitar in hand, and started to sing.

Excerpt from chapter 14 of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #stranger things #very indulgent chapter #before the drama of season 2 #and i know thats not how radio contests work or where metallica even was but #lucky for me its all fantasy lol #this is sfw but the fic itself is not #secret relationship steddie #beard nancy wheeler #steddie childhood friends au #steve and nancy friendship #eddie and nancy friendship

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 10 - The Finale!

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9

MASTERLIST

It's the end doo doo doo doo! The final match of the season, the ending. I really hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. I've had the best time and I'm really proud of this one! 💜

Chapter 10

You hadn’t considered that footballers or their coaches would get nervous. But the tension in the run up to the Man City game was palpable. The whole town seemed on edge, Roy included. He’d spent each one of your Lexie nights at your house, it felt a little odd that he was there observing your boring mum routine of washing, cooking and carrying the mental load of knowing where Lexie needed to be, when and everything else in between. He didn’t ask to stay, even though you’d wanted him to, he’d said goodnight each evening and gone back to his place. By the time Lexie was back to her dads, you’d worked out that he’d been there every evening not just because he’d wanted to be, but because he’d needed to be. The build up to the game had him restless and distractible and the time with you and Lexie managed to relax him far more than sitting in an empty house, or going over and over the match with Jamie, or Nate or whoever else was free for a pint. When you’d gone to him just a day before the match, the only solace he’d found from the plays, the tactics and the team, was in you. He took his time, undressing you slowly and kissing every inch of skin as it became exposed to him.

"Let me take care of you," you whispered. You felt his head shake as he kissed down your neck. 

"I've never needed anyone like I need you." He muttered, swiping a calloused thumb over your hardening nipple, "you look so fucking beautiful like this." You rolled your hips against him, 

"Please, Roy. I need you-" you all but begged. All night he'd taken the lead and given you everything, losing himself in the feel of your body against his. When they won the next day, you were euphoric. Lexie and Phoebe had been in bits when the camera had focused in on Roy and Nate discussing something over an iPad and they could see that Roy was wearing his Richmond colours friendship bracelet. The late journey back from Manchester and the subsequent celebrations meant that it was Tuesday morning before you saw him again. You’d joined the slip road to the school, queuing for the carpark with the windows down and blasting 90s dance music when his car had pulled alongside yours. You and Lexie had been so engrossed in singing/shouting Robin S ‘Show Me Love’ - complete with 'big box, little box' hand dancing - that you hadn’t even seen him until Phoebe had called through the open windows. 

“Morning. Congratulations on the win!” You’d called out.

“Morning. Nice dancing.”

“Especially for you.” You winked. You’d ended up parked at different ends of the carpark so he and Phoebe had waited for you by the gate as you walked down to them. You’d pulled out your phone to take a call from a recruitment agency so he’d walked alongside you while you talked and the girls ran ahead. “And that’s in Richmond? Wow, ok that sounds really interesting. Absolutely yes, send my CV over if you think I’m in with a shot. Actually, just send it over anyway - I’d be mad not to at least try,” at the front of the queue at the gates, you handed Lexie her bag and gave her a kiss whilst still on the phone, “Ok, could you just hang on one second please?” You moved the phone away from your mouth and stepped up on tiptoes to give Roy a lingering kiss. The other playground parents looked on, wide eyed. “I have to go, I love you. See you later.” You whispered, taking up the phone again and going back to the car, your hand holding onto his until you couldn’t reach any further. Lexie was with her dad during the beginning of that week so that she could go with you to the final Richmond match at the weekend, so after work you’d gone straight to Roy’s. You hopped up to sit on the counter while he cooked.

“Ted’s staying.” He told you, hands on your thighs.

“Really? That’s great!”

“He got to work this morning and Rebecca was in his office. She only fucking told him she was in love with him, that she’d help his ex get a job here if she wanted to move, she’d help them find a school for Henry… pretty much told him she’d do fucking anything if he’d say.” You leaned forward, eager to hear more,

“And did he tell her?”

“Yeah, told her he was in love with her. We walked in to find them nearly going at it in the office.” You shrieked,

“Oh god that’s so cute! At least you all know before the weekend as well.”

“Settles the lads down a bit, bunch of fucking kids sometimes.” You slid forward to wrap your legs around his hips. “Any news on that job from this morning?” His hands move up your thighs and around your waist so he can kiss your neck,

“Not yet, the agency is putting me forward. It’s in Richmond though, which would be amazing. I should hear more tomorrow.”

“And how you feeling going into your last week?”

“Happy. Scared. Nervous.”

“We’ll figure it out, you know. I won’t let you fucking drown. Season finishes at the weekend, so this time next week I’ll have loads more free time for a few weeks. I can help with Lex while you do what you need to do.” He’s turned the pan off and pulled you off the counter, taking you over to the sofa, dinner forgotten for now.

~~~~~~~

You took a further call from the recruitment agency the following day. Their client was interested in meeting you but needed an informal off-site meeting. You arranged with the recruiter to meet with them towards the end of the week just outside of town. To say you were surprised to see Keeley Jones and Rebecca Welton being led to your table was an understatement. You shook hands and sat back down before your legs could give out. The mums might have been all good, the kids, but maybe you were about to be ousted by two of the most influential women in Roy’s life? You clearly looked terrified because Keeley, to her credit, took your hand and held it,

“Oh fuck, you look so scared! I’m so sorry we ambushed you, are you ok?” You think of the night before when Roy had cooked your favourite meal while you’d taken Lexie to swimming lessons and then onto her dads. When you’d sat in his lap and pushed your fingers into the knot in his shoulder to try and relieve some of the stress of the final week of the season. When he’d lost all patience and decided on a different way to unwind, which had mostly revolved around keeping his head between your thighs for as long as you let him. You think about your 4am wake up call that morning, and the 6am follow up, where he’d interlocked your fingers above your head and pressed you into the mattress as he whispered “I could do this forever”. Whatever had changed their mind in the time since the gala, you couldn’t let it derail your future.

“Look, if you’ve suddenly come to the realisation that I’m not good enough for Roy then that’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it. But I’m not going to be scared off. He loves me and I’ll take that for as long as I possibly can because I am so, so in love with him and I will spend forever making him happy in any way I can. I’m really sorry, I’m sure you’re both lovely women and I know he values your opinions, but if he’s ever going to change how he feels about me then he’ll do it himself and he’ll tell me himself. And congratulations by the way,” you turn to Rebecca, “I heard that Ted is staying and that he finally told you he loves you. I’m so happy for you.” Keeley smiled at you while Rebecca looked curiously. 

“Are you sure about this?” She asked Keeley,

“I’ve been doing some digging. Trust me, Rebecca.”

“We’re not here to try and break you and Roy up.” Rebecca said finally,

“Oh. Well then I don’t understand?”

“I’d like to interview you for a job.”

“Sorry, what? Shit, have I just fucked it up completely?”

“Nahh!” Keeley said quickly.

“Well-” Rebecca interrupted.

“No, she hasn’t. We probably scared her half to death, Rebecca! Give the poor woman a minute to recover.” You finish your water and take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, really I am. I got completely carried away and I shouldn't have gone off like that.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, smiling at last. “And thank you for letting me know just how much you care about Roy.” You nod, making peace. Keeley whipped out some paperwork from her bag.

“So! Like Rebecca said, this is I guess, a final stage interview without all the previous stages? We already know about you, we'd love to know more. Our previous Director of Comms was Leslie Higgins, he moved into the Football Ops role quite a while ago now and there’s never really been the need to replace him. He and Rebecca have sort of taken on the various tasks and it’s worked fine.” She pauses for Rebecca to step in and continue,

“Now though, we’re one game away from maybe winning the Premier League just one season after coming back from relegation. That’s practically unheard of. The huge, growing success of the club, the opportunities with the Champions League next season and our plans for the future mean that we need to strengthen the internal team. KBPR can only do so much - they have other clients and I can’t ask Keeley to devote all of her time to the club.”

“We think,” Keeley started, “that with us, and Leslie and you… we could be a real Fab Four. The core AFC Richmond decision makers - with the coaches input of course.” You are stunned, to say the least.

“When you say you’ve done some digging, what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well, when you told me who you worked for and what you’d worked on, I realised that we’d met before. I’ve been asking around people who have worked with you or who have come across you in a professional capacity to learn more. When I liked what I saw, I took it to Rebecca.”

“With Ted confirmed as staying now, I have some big plans ahead for Roy. We have some very big plans ahead as a club.”

“And you don’t think it would be weird? Me working with you, for one,” you gesture to Keeley, “or with Roy?”

“I’ve been at the club probably at least two or three times a week since the day you blocked him in on the school car park. He came in ranting and raving about some idiot driver and every day, I’ve heard him fall more in love with you. If he found out there was a way to have you in the same building every day, I think he’d be beating Rebecca’s door down himself. And working in the same building doesn’t necessarily mean you spend every waking hour together. You still have crucial jobs to do. And as for me, I'd love to work with you.” Rebecca nodded in agreement.

“The job is nothing you don’t already know, the only difference is the industry.”

“Exactly, my football knowledge is… limited at best!”

“We’re a family, we wouldn’t let you drown.” Hearing Rebecca use the same phrase as Roy struck a chord with you.

“I take it you have a job spec, contract, everything I need to read through and make a decision?”

“An interview is as much about you deciding if we’re the right fit for you, as it is for us to decide. I think you’ll find that the club's current standing means we can afford to give you a generous package, and the locality means we can support a better work-life balance.”

“Take this, read it and see what you think.” You take the folder.

“As his friends, do you think I should tell Roy now, or decide based on him not knowing? I assume we’ve met here because he doesn’t know, and inviting me to Nelson Road would be a dead giveaway?”

“Perhaps tell him about the role first and then bring in where it came from. Let him help offer an opinion based on the job alone.” Rebecca suggested. “And I do so hope you’ll agree to join us, I think you could be a truly great asset to the club.”

~~~~~~~~

You’d kept the folder at your house, not daring to leave it in a bag or your car in danger of accidentally taking it to Roy’s. Being at yours also meant you could be ‘busy’ and have Lexie as a buffer and it also being your last week at your current workplace, this also gave you an excuse for being more distracted than usual. The last game of the season was doing the same for him so his being distracted also helped you. The intimacy of spending time alone at Roy’s exposed all of your vulnerabilities. You’d spent so many nights laying in the dark in his arms listening to him talk about his family and career, and have him ask about yours, it was impossible to hide anything from him. You’d mentioned the role to him, you’d had to since he knew about the original recruiter call, and he’d reacted to it exactly as you hoped he would - excited for you to have such a great opportunity, close to home, with a package befitting your knowledge and experience. You wanted to wait until after the West Ham game to tell him exactly who the role was for. Lexie was spending the night before the match at Phoebe’s for a sleepover. The night before the Man City game meant you knew exactly how he'd want to forget the West Ham match and this time, you'd planned accordingly. You'd finished your final day at work early and had blown the cash from your leaving card on the most beautiful lingerie set you'd ever seen. You'd come back via Nelson Road to borrow his keys, and gone back to his to cook. When he got back late that afternoon, you'd set up outside under the secluded canopy in his garden with soft lights, blankets and cushions. You handed him a beer and led him outside, brought food out - including dessert, and then when you'd eaten and cleared up, you stepped in front of him and slipped your summer dress down your body. He reached out and took your hand, you'd sat in his lap with your legs either side of his. He ran his finger over the cup of the bra, 

"Holy fucking shit, you're perfect," 

"Distracting enough?"

"Yeah I'd say so." He said gruffly. “It’s a good fucking job I just need to stand on the side of the pitch now.” He laughed. 

The match was intense, unexpected drama on the sidelines and Isaac’s incredible goal had everyone holding their breath for another goal or for news from the Liverpool game. When the win came, no one seemed to care what the final table result was. The fans flooded the pitch to be with their team. You, Sara and the girls had stayed back a little, you could see better as Coach Lasso danced with his team surrounding him. When you let the girls onto the pitch, they run straight to Roy and he ends up with Phoebe on his front and giving a piggyback to Lexie at the same time.

“Don’t come crying to me later when you can’t walk.” You tease, finding a route past Phoebe to give him a kiss.”

“You’re not gonna fucking take care of me?” He asks, faux outraged.

“Every. Single. Day.”

“Dad!” Lexie calls, she taps Roy’s shoulder and he lets her down. Andy is coming across the pitch from the away fans side.

“Alright love.” He scoops her up and hugs her. “Congratulations,” he says to Roy who nods without greeting. “Dunno what old Mannion was doing. Made us look like fools. Do you ehh, do you know if our gaffer is ok?”

“Yeah, that old twat is fine. Just a bruised ego and a picture of his balls on the front of every paper tomorrow.” Andy shrugs.

“I uhh, I wanted to apologise to you both. I was a real dickhead-” Roy snorts a laugh, “worse than that, then. I’m sorry. I’ve been watching since the game finished. You look happy.” He turns to you,

“I am.” You say shortly, unsure whether to trust the apology.

“Good. I mean it, you look happy together. And Lexie tells me so all the time. I’m… happy for you.” You thank him and he heads off with his mates to the pub. You’re left with the feeling that you might never be friendly, but you can at least be cordial. Relieved of carrying the kids, Roy pulls you into his arms.

“He’s jealous.”

“Of me?” he laughs,

“Of me, you muppet.” He leans down to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear, “because you're the one. You're it. You're the only one I want for the rest of my life. And he knows he fucked it up.”

“Hmm, you're pretty irresistible yourself.” The kiss you leave him with leaves you both breathless,

“Think we can find somewhere-”

“No way, there are hundreds of people here. I need to tell you something later.” He looks curiously at you, but you both get caught up in another ‘Richmond til we Die’ chant when Jamie, Keeley and a raft of players come over to find Roy. A little further through the crowd, you see Ted sweep Rebecca into his arms and kiss her. Even an hour after the game had ended, the club was still heaving with people. The fans had gone on to celebrate elsewhere but the families and friends of the players and staff remained. Rebecca had instructed the bar to stay open, insisting that she’d cover the bill. Phoebe and Lexie were still running around on the now empty pitch with Leslie’s younger children and other player’s and staff kids. You’ve told Sara about the job and you can’t wait to tell Roy. He’s sitting with Nate, both of them animatedly discussing Jamie’s Oscar winning performance with Coach Beard. 

“Have you got an answer for me yet?” Rebecca asks, sitting next to you in the dugout.

“Yes, I think I do. I’d like to run it by someone in particular first though.” You catch Roy’s eye, he looks surprised but happy to see you talking to Rebecca. She waves her hand to call him over.

“Coach Kent, congratulations.”

“You too.”

“I meant your excellent girlfriend, not the match.” He cocks an eyebrow at her,

“Thanks then. She’s fucking brilliant.”

“I know. Thought I might poach her from you?” The furrow in his brow deepens with his confusion. You stand up and kiss the frown away.

“The amazing job I’ve been offered? It would be here. Working for Rebecca.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice light but nervous for his response.

“Here? Every day?” 

“Yeah,” you start to mistake his hesitation for annoyance, “but if you think that’s really fucking weird, then I can tell Rebecca to stuff it - no offense, Rebecca - and I can carry on looking and something else will turn up-”

“I don’t think it’s really fucking weird. I think you should say yes. You should definitely fucking do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.” 

“You’d better come over tomorrow then, sign your contract.” Rebecca says with a smile. “Welcome.” You and Sara party on the pitch with the team until the girls start to flag and it’s time to go. You insist Roy stay,

“I’ll see you tomorrow, go - have an amazing night, you’ve earned it. I’m so fucking proud of you.” You kiss him and he waves you off. 

~~~~~~~

You’re reading in bed when the door knocks so quietly you think you might have imagined it. Lexie is practically comatose in her bed, the combination of exhilaration and fresh air has completely wiped her out. You creep down the stairs in one of Roy’s t-shirts and open the door. Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep with an arm slung around Roy.

“Tried to get him to come to a club with us, but he made us bring ‘im ‘ere instead.” You stifle a giggle, you can see that Roy’s nowhere near as drunk as Jamie but he’s still looking at you with total adoration.

“Thanks Jamie, I’ll take it from here. You have a good night,” you look around him to the taxi down the path. Isaac and Colin are both waving madly at you. “Be safe, boys.” You wave to them and blow a kiss before slipping your arm around Roy’s waist and guiding him inside.

“Night Coach,” Jamie grins.

“Night Tartt, fuckin’ love you man. Fuckin’ love all of you.”

“We know. And we wouldn’t have been on that fuckin’ pitch without you.” Jamie gave you both a little salute and ran off back to the taxi.

“Come on, coach. Time for bed.” You lead him upstairs and sit him on the bed so you can take off his t-shirt, then you drop to your knees and unlace his trainers. You pull his hands to get him to stand up, running your hands around the waistband of his dark jeans and pulling them down. Once they’re free of his hips, he sits back down. “Come here,” you whisper, climbing into bed and pulling him with you, his body between your legs and his head on your heart. 

“Feels like I won the whole fucking thing.” He whispers against your skin as he falls asleep.

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent smut

[abiiors]

stealing sweaters 🧶 // george daniel x reader

promptober '23 - day 17

a/n: fwb!george smut. that's it, that's what this is... cw: smut, finger fucking basically... wc: 1k

this is only the second time george has stayed over at her apartment. his place is usually more convenient since it’s right in the middle of the city but her place fascinates him. 

an eclectic bedroom filled with plants and trinkets and so many books—all second-hand, well-loved paperbacks that he's seen her hunched over multiple times. not that they have lived together all that much, just stolen mornings spent together when he asks her to stay under the guise of making her breakfast and coffee. evenings here or there when he calls her over and nonchalantly mentions he has “accidentally” ordered extra food. 

she agrees of course, she always does. 

even now, even in her apartment, george knows she’s in the kitchen making them coffee and maybe some eggs from the smell of it. 

remnants of last night are all around him, messy sheets, both their clothes scattered on the floor, her heels haphazardly thrown in one corner of the room. george stretches and gets out of bed.

his jeans are by the foot of the bed, his boxers only a few inches away but for the life of him he can’t find the sweater he was wearing last night. 

soft, warm brown cashmere that he’s owned for years. 

george shrugs and pads barefoot into the kitchen. the sweater can wait—he’s only shirtless, nothing she has’t seen before. but his questions resolve themselves soon enough, as soon as george enters the kitchen and stops at the entrance. 

a paramore song blasts from the speakers, one of her favourites, while she stands near the hob, bobbing and singing along to the song. and george is delighted to see that she’s just in her underwear—the same lacy little thing she wore last night—that, and what suspiciously looks like his cashmere sweater. 

the eggs cook on the pan but she’s more focused on using the spatula as a mic. so focused in fact, that she doesn’t notice when george walks up behind her and pulls her into a hug, pressing her flush against his chest. 

“mornin’,” he breathes into her neck, laughing at her little yelp. he already has a semi from just waking up and now that she’s pressed up against him, he feels himself grow harder. 

“george,” she hums and subtly grinds against him. “didn’t hear you come in.”

george grins, pressing little kisses down her neck. her hair is tied up, but little strays escape, tickling him. “you were busy being hayley williams,” he teases. 

he grips her waist, pulling her back into him. his cock is proper hard now, aching for a release. he needs to touch her, needs to feel her clench around him again. george wastes no time sliding a hand in her underwear.

“last night wasn’t enough?” she laughs but tilts her head back and sighs all the same. george dips his fingers lower, finding the bundle of nerves. 

“can never get enough of you…” he murmurs in her ear, nipping at her earlobe, “and i can’t let you go unpunished now, can i? thief!”

she laughs coyly at that, and george feels the softness of his sweater against his chest. it’s big on her, of course, ending at her mid thighs and sleeves going well past her hands. george has to push the sweater up, holding it at her waist so he can touch her boobs with his other hand. she’s so warm under his sweater, so soft and sweet, moaning and responding to his touch perfectly as he circles her clit. 

george has goosebumps on his skin—from the chilly october air, he tells himself. he swipes a finger through her folds, collecting the wetness and dipping the tip of his finger into her. 

“fuck george…” she moans, “need–need you please.”

and how could he deny her when she asks so sweetly… george plunges a finger in her, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb. the trembling of her legs, her jaw slack with pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut are all like small rewards for him, all of it making the fire in his blood burn hotter. 

he adds another finger, plunging them in an out and hooking them at the last second and she almost falls to her knees, hands coming up to grab the counter. 

“oh my god, oh fuck,” she cries out, “more…like that…”

her voice is soaked in desperation. she grinds her pretty pussy on his hand, dripping onto it and greedy for more. george increases his pace. 

her nipples are rock hard between his fingers, almost as hard as his cock which twitches in his pants now. he wants to be inside her so badly. just the thought of it almost has him cumming in his pants.

“you’re close, baby. i can feel it,” he whispers in her ear gruffly, continuing to move his fingers in and out of her at a bruising pace, roughly pressing her clit each time. his sweater is bunched between them, her back and his front soaked with sweat. 

george no longer has goosebumps on his skin, now he has a wildfire spreading through his whole body. 

“mh-mm,” she moans, “gonna cum george, shit!”

and when his fingers hit home again, he parts them, stretching her out more, pushing her over the edge. a cry splits through the air as she gushes all over his hand, legs trembling so much that george has to hold her up by her waist. the shit-eating grin on his face never wavers once. not even when he’s aching for his own release. 

he could stay like this forever, hand buried inside her, fingers lazily moving in an out as she rides out her orgasm. he could stay like this forever…if it weren’t for the burning smell that fills the air. 

her eyes fly open. 

“shit shit shit, the eggs!” she cries, sounding so much different from before. they’re unsalvagable now, blackened almost. but george smirks. 

“don’t need eggs for breakfast…”

she turns to him in curiosity, eyes widening when he brings his soaked hand to his mouth, fingers still glistening and sticky. “got all i need right here,” george grins and sticks them in his mouth. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiamars

add yourself to the taglist

#promptober75 #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george daniel smut #george x reader #george x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #george daniel #smut writing #minors do not interact

[scoops-aboy86]

♠️♥️Famous Rockstar Eddie leaving the spotlight mysteriously and going off the radar for the next 10 years. Unbeknownst to the world, it was because he broke up with his then secret boyfriend Steve Harrington. Steve wanted to settle down, Eddie wanted to play for the world. The love never left but they both had dreams they wanted to pursue. Then very randomly he's spotted by paparazzi with a cute hubby, a wedding band on his finger, and 100lbs more than he had 10 years ago, enjoying brunch like he wasn't quote unquote "missing" to the public. 😂

Aww. I’m picturing a mostly amiable breakup… They’re both bummed to do it, but Eddie wants to leave and Steve wants to stay. It’s the 80’s, so no cell phones, no email… Much harder to keep up a long distance relationship. Both of them feel like they’re setting the other free. 

~

Cut to ten years later. Corroded Coffin made it big, and they’re coming up on the end of a tour that they’ve already said will be their last public appearance in a while. Gareth has a fiancé he wants to settle down with, Jeff is already married with a kid on the way, and Freak is thinking about going back to school for… something, he hasn’t decided what yet. 

Eddie is toying with the idea of doing a solo album or something, nothing big, but music is his life. It’s basically what he replaced Steve with after the breakup. He’s maybe leaned into food a little, especially during tours, but mostly burns it off with his on-stage antics. Over the years, he’s stuck pretty exclusively to hookups and situationships, nothing serious. As long as he has his music, everything’s fine. 

Which is why he’s dreading the end of the tour. After the second to last concert, right after they get to the next city, he does something he doesn’t usually do: he goes out and gets fucked up. (He saw what drugs and alcohol did to his parents when he was little and things were starting to fall apart, and No Thank You, but. It’s not bad if he only does it once, right? It’s fine.) 

The city happens to be Chicago. Eddie goes out, accepting just about anything anyone hands him like a moron… and wakes up having blacked out on everything except the vague impression of pop music blasted too loud for even his concert-hardened ears. The bed he’s in is comfortable in a very not-hotel-room sort of way and smells like the essence of a warm hug. He burrows into the blankets and pillows on the principle that maybe if he snuggles in deep enough he can hide from the raging hangover. 

It doesn’t work, of course, and a few minutes later he drags himself across the room on all fours to hurl his guts out into a waste basket. Which turns out not to have a liner. Oops. 

That’s when the door opens, and a mildly exasperated voice says, “Eds, seriously? I left you a bucket on your side of the bed.”

Blearily, Eddie turns and sees, of all people, Steve Harrington. Standing there in a yellow sweater and both hands on his hips like a blast from the goddamn past. He’s still handsome, still has the amazing hair, and the glasses he’s wearing lend a new kind of adult-ness to his face that hadn’t been there when he was twenty. He looks good. 

Eddie, meanwhile, feels like a stepped-on cockroach. It’s not fair. 

“Woke up facing this way,” Eddie rasps, but his heart leaps at the way Steve says your side. Like it’s still his. And it’s true, he does still prefer the left side of the bed, despite usually sleeping alone. “How are you… here? Where am I?”

Steve brings him a glass of water. “This is my apartment, I’ve been here for about three years now. I brought you here last night after you propositioned me because, and I quote, ‘You look just like the love of my fucking life that I walked away from like the dumbest idiot alive, wanna fuck and maybe marry me if my dick’s good enough? I’m kind of rich and famous, I could write so many songs about your eyes.’”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie takes a sip of water, feeling like he might throw up again from embarrassment. “Did we…?”

“Nah, you passed out practically before finishing that second sentence. I carried you here to sleep it off, and answered your cell when Jeff called to check on you.” Steve, helping Eddie stand up at this point and guiding him back to the bed, raises an eyebrow. “He was extremely thorough in explaining that you don’t usually do things like this.”

Eddie groans. “Fuck… Is he sending a car or something? We’ve got a concert in… in… soon.”

“Two days,” Steve fills in easily. “Don’t worry, you have time to recover. I’ve made breakfast, if you think you can stomach it.”

Groaning again, Eddie face-plants into the pillows and realizes that wonderful scent is Steve and that’s why it was so nice when he first woke up. That smell still means home to him, even after a decade apart. “No, can’t do cereal and pop tarts right now.”

Steve snorts. “Excuse you, but one of us has learned to cook over the years and Jeff assured me it wasn’t you. There’s bacon, eggs, pancakes, and fresh strawberries. Vanilla ice cream in the freezer, too, if that still helps settle your stomach.”

“…It might,” Eddie mutters into the pillow. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready, there’s clothes at the end of the bed, and Advil and more water on the desk. I’m just going to, uh, take this basket out to the dumpster.”

Sorry, Eddie bites on his tongue to avoid saying. He’s just now realizing that he’s stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, which, like. Doesn’t even show off the coolest of his new tattoos. Not that that’s important, fuck, but it’s the first thing his hungover brain spits out about the whole situation other than, you know. 

The fact that he randomly ran into The Ex of All Time while so loaded he doesn’t even remember it happening. And Steve is acting like this is just normal even though they haven’t even been in contact for years. 

Eddie falls asleep while freaking out about this, and feels marginally more human by the time he wakes up. The clothes Steve left him are… Christ, it’s one of his old Metallica shirts, and the sweatpants that were technically Steve’s that Eddie had always stolen to sleep in, back when they were together. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. Stumbles his way out of the room to a bathroom, noticing along the way that the couch has a pile of folded blankets at one end. Because Steve probably slept there instead of his own bed. 

“Coffee?” Steve asks when Eddie finally puts in an appearance in the kitchen, passing him a mug that’s already doctored exactly the way he likes it. Eddie takes it and sips cautiously, but his stomach seems to have settled now and nothing bad happens, so he takes a longer, grateful gulp. 

The food is still waiting for him, kept warm in the oven with tin foil over the plates and heat set to low. Eddie sits down and feels something well up in his chest, in his eyes, at the first bite of scrambled eggs; it’s like eating clouds, they’re so damn fluffy. 

“‘S good,” he mumbles through a full mouth, then swallows and turns his tired eyes towards Steve. “I… I didn’t even know you’d moved to Chicago.”

Steve gives him an amused smile. “It wasn’t exactly news worthy of Rolling Stone, dude. Don’t worry about it.”

“Kinda have to,” Eddie mumbles, and jams bacon in his mouth. “I mean, I—Holy fuck, Steve, this is good. Are you a chef or something?”

The smile turns sheepish. “Sort of. It’s a long story, but I kinda teach cooking classes now? It’s a program for teens and preteens who’ve had trouble at home or with the law and need, like, better outlets that are also practical life skills. Robin’s girlfriend hooked me up, she teaches yoga and self-defense stuff at the same place.”

“Wow.” Eddie stares blankly at him for a second, before physically shaking off the surprise and looking back down at his plate. Steve had spent the past decade learning new skills and helping kids, whereas Eddie has written songs about sex, drugs, rock and roll, and… Steve’s eyes. “That’s great, Steve. You sound really happy.”

Because he does. And Eddie feels really, really bad about barreling accidentally back into Steve’s life, probably throwing a huge monkey wrench into it since there’s no way a guy this handsome and this good and this fantastic in the kitchen isn’t seeing anyone. He’d be snatched up in a second by any discerning man or woman with, like, eyes and a heart and taste buds. Which is what Steve deserves, really. He deserves someone who won’t run off at the first whiff of potential fame and fortune somewhere he can’t follow. 

“I do alright,” Steve replies modestly. 

“I’ll replace your waste basket,” Eddie blurts out. Because Steve deserves someone who doesn’t ever get fucked up enough to puke in and ruin his stuff, even if it’s not something he does regularly. “And, this is great, really, thank you for breakfast, but I should get out of your hair. I’m… sorry for ambushing you last night, or whatever it was I did, I can’t even remember—”

His hand is clenched around his fork so tight that his knuckles have gone pale, and he almost jolts out of his chair when Steve puts a hand over it, massaging his grip into loosening slightly. “First of all, I got that thing at Costco,” Steve informs him. “It’s not a big deal. Second, you didn’t ambush me. I mean, I was surprised, for sure, but… it was nice to hear that I’m still the love of your life.” Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Really nice, Eds. And third, you didn’t exactly walk away. You asked me to come with you, I was the one who wasn’t ready to leave Hawkins then. We agreed, remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He feels like careening back into Steve’s orbit now must count as some sort of violation of that agreement, or something… and yet Steve is still holding his hand. 

“I actually…” Steve hesitates, looking unexpectedly shy for someone who Eddie must be bothering. Then, instead of finishing the sentence, he lets go of Eddie’s hand to pull something from his back pocket and lay it on the table.

It’s a ticket. A VIP meet and greet pass for the Corroded Coffin concert in two days. 

“Everybody pitched in and got this for my birthday,” he says sheepishly. “They went on presale on the exact day, Dustin kept saying it was a sign.”

Eddie, who’s never paid much attention to ticket sales in general, much less the dates they become available, can only stare at it. His throat feels tight knowing that he would’ve seen Steve anyway, that it could’ve happened while he was riding the adrenaline high of performing instead of feeling like roadkill freshly scraped off the asphalt. 

“Which, if it was a sign, I’m guessing it wasn’t on purpose, since you didn’t even know I live out here now,” Steve continues. “But, well, they got it, and… I told Robin I wasn’t sure if I’d go, but I knew from the second I opened the envelope it was a done deal.”

“What about… A-aren’t you seeing anyone?” Eddie asks. He remembers, in wistful, rosy detail, Steve being in his element as a boyfriend. Knows that he loves having someone to share everything with, to learn through and through, to kiss and murmur I missed you even if it’s only been an hour, even when it wasn’t safe for two guys to do that openly in small town Indiana and he’d had to limit himself to a fleeting touch and saying it with his eyes. 

“No.” Steve shrugs. “I tried putting myself out there on and off, but there was never enough of a spark to make it past three or four dates. I always knew you were it for me, Eddie, even if we never got another chance. And this…” He taps the concert ticket. “I was going to ask if you wanted one, because god knows I’d give it to you. You don’t have to answer now, because going by how you look you must feel like crap—”

“Oh fuck you, dude.” Never one to sit stoically through Steve’s teasing, Eddie groans and hides a grudging you’ve got me there smile behind a handful of his own hair. 

Steve grins. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding or looking sorry at all. 

Which is where they leave it, for now. Eddie finishes his breakfast, clearing his plate and dishing up seconds because once he starts eating in earnest his stomach settles and he’s starving, and it’s all so good. And it’s not like they’re magically back together—Steve had slept on the couch instead of in the bed with him, they haven’t been close enough to share so much as a meal and conversation like this for ten years, but it’s a start. A chance to get to know each other again, see if they still fit. 

~

Fast forward another ten years. Eddie’s solo career is doing well but he doesn’t do public appearances, got all of his recording done at home in his private studio. He’s pretty much a homebody, which surprised some of the people who know him but not the ones that know him well. 

Steve still has the same job, not because he needs to work but because he loves it. He’s also Eddie’s de facto private chef, and he loves that too. 

But he’s not cooking today, because it���s their anniversary and Eddie is dead set on painting the town red. “Of course I still want to,” Eddie assures him again, nuzzling sleepily up against his unofficial husband (they’re holding out until it becomes legal in either Illinois or Indiana, whichever comes first) when Steve wakes him and asks if he’s still sure about their brunch reservations. “I want to take you out and show you off. Remember how I promised you how rich and famous I am and how cool that would be?”

Steve huffs in amusement, leaning into the nuzzling. “First of all, it was more of a statement than a promise. The actual promise was to write so many songs about my eyes. Second of all, you don’t remember that.”

“Kept the promise either way, didn’t I?” Eddie nips at his collarbone, bare because Steve never was one for sleeping with a shirt on, even when the weather turns cold. “I’ve written songs about your eyes, your smile, this ass…” He grabs at it with a little growl, leaning more of his weight onto Steve to reach and enjoying the way his sweetheart happily squirms. 

“Mmm, yeah,” Steve sighs. “But we could still stay in… have breakfast in bed…” His own hands find Eddie’s love handles and settle there. “Not have to get dressed.”

“Nope.” Eddie props himself up on one thick arm and kisses him on the nose. Then yawns hugely. “It’s about time I get some fresh air, and I’m taking you out, baby.”

So Steve crawls out of bed, fetching Eddie the clothes he asks for and gamely taking suggestions for his own outfit—though he anticipates every article with a smirk, starting to grab each hanger before the words are fully past Eddie’s lips. Jeans that are just a little on the tight side and highlight the ass that Eddie so loves to grab (and sing about grabbing, the horny lovesick goblin man), a t-shirt that shows off his muscles and broad shoulders (because he may be turning forty next month but he takes damn fine care of his body), and the leather jacket from Eddie’s Corroded Coffin days that no longer fit their original owner. 

Because Eddie, who loves Steve’s food, has put on at least a hundred pounds in the past decade,maybe more. Most of it has gone to his belly, but he’s pretty round and soft all over—except his ass, for some reason, which is his excuse for how much attention he regularly bestows on Steve’s. 

That’s not why he’s stayed out of the public eye for so long though. It’s more because he got his fill of being a rock star, being recognized everywhere he goes, being photographed all the time and known for his wild antics. He’d wanted that when he was younger, so badly, needed the accolades and acknowledgement as someone who hadn’t gotten a lot of that as a child. But that rock star life took him away from Steve for so long, which he both regrets and doesn’t because it all worked out in the end. He’d been in it just as much for being able to make and share his music, too, which he can still do, so he’s happy. Happy and so, so in love. 

Their day is back to back reservations at various restaurants, all selected by Eddie because of dishes he knows that Steve will want to try and recreate at home. “Inspiration for your craft,” Eddie tells him with a wink, his own cheeks pink and grin lazy with the pleasure of overindulgence. 

Pictures are taken, more by cell phones than paparazzi because it’s the 2000’s now (not long before the Supreme Court of California issues a finding that allows that state to start issuing same-sex marriage licenses out on the West Coast, and Steve and Eddie fly out for Robin’s backyard wedding). They circulate the internet, with thousands of people weighing in on whether that really is Eddie Munson, the “missing” front man from Corroded Coffin. There are comparisons between old photos and these new ones, in depth analyses that range from “he wouldn’t get that fat” to “wow he really let himself go” to “looks like he’s living his best life.”

Eddie and his sweetheart—who is a total unknown except to some of the kids at the program who see the pictures and flip out because since when is Mr. Harrington so close with a famous metal guitarist omg, he’s so lame with all his sweater vests and dad jokes—remain unaware and unbothered as Steve helps Eddie tuck his already full belly back into his pants, get him all zipped up again, and leave brunch for their next stop. 

And they have a very lovely day.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added): @hotluncheddie @tangerinesteve @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax

#wg steddie #scoops words #chubby eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #this can be read as post-canon or no UD... i didn't have either particularly in mind while writing #♠️♥️ anon #ask #slight dumbass use of drugs and alcohol

[lfcslut]

my mistakes were made for you

hakim ziyech x reader

words: 4.8k

warnings: 18+ ONLY! jealous hakim, kind of an asshole hakim, mentions of alcohol, LOTS OF ANGST, a fair amount of fluff, and SMUT at the end - unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), pet names (baby, angel), dirty talk, aftercare, etc.

summary: you run into hakim at the club a few weeks after he broke up with you, and jealousy gets the better of him…

I wanted to write something angsty and smutty for hakim and it somehow turned into this. I swear I didn't intend for it to be so long! I hope you all enjoy <3

The kick drum was blasting in your ears and the taste of vodka was lingering in your mouth. It had been a few weeks since your breakup, and your girlfriends had somehow managed to convince you to go out with them, promising you that it would make you feel better. And in some ways, you were feeling better, but that might just be the liquor talking. You had started the night at your best friend's place for a pregame and had made your way to a local bar for some drinks. By now though, it was well past midnight, and your friends had decided that they wanted to go to a nightclub. You had your reservations about coming here - you knew that this was a club that was often frequented by football players, including players for a certain club that your ex-boyfriend played for. It had been at a club just like this that you had met him over a year ago now. But London was a big city and you knew that you were being paranoid - after all, what were the odds that you would end up at the same club on the exact same night?

You were sipping on champagne and dancing with some of your girlfriends when a man came up to you and asked you to dance with him. He was handsome - like, movie star handsome - with dark hair and dark eyes. He reminded you a bit of your ex, which made your heart sink a little. You hesitated at first, but your girlfriends egged you on, so you said yes. It didn't hurt that he was good looking, too. I hope he isn't a football player, you thought to yourself, having sworn off any and all athletes ever since your break up. He took your hand and led you out to the middle of the dance floor. You were nervous at first, but when one of your favorite songs came on, your confidence grew.

"Hi, I'm Adam," said the man in front of you, as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Hi, Adam. I'm Y/N," you replied, knowing that he wouldn't remember your name and you wouldn't remember his by the end of the night, but not caring much in the slightest.

You had been dancing for a few songs when you felt someone's eyes on you. You glanced behind you and looked up at one of the private sections of the club, where you saw a couple of familiar football players. No, it can't be, you thought to yourself as you began to recognize some of the men from the Chelsea football club team. Your eyes scanned the group as your stomach churned. Please don't be here, please don't be here. But your prayers weren't heard because your eyes soon landed on the man who was quite obviously glaring down at you - your ex-boyfriend, Hakim. You felt your cheeks turn red with heat and you quickly turned away, knowing that he had definitely seen you looking at him. Fuck. You hadn't noticed him and his friends come in, or perhaps they had been here the whole time. The look on his face as he stared down at you and Adam had been one of pure anger, intense rage, and perhaps (and maybe this was just the lighting in the club, or maybe it was wishful thinking) a smidge of sadness? You recognized that look - it was the same look that you had on your face in the days after the breakup, when you had been scrolling through Instagram, looking through the profiles of all of the girls Hakim had started following since he had ended it with you. Fucking asshole didn't wait long, did he?

"Everything okay?" asked Adam, and you eagerly nodded your head.

"Yeah, perfect," you replied. Without thinking, you turned around so that your back was to his chest and began grinding into him. His arms grabbed your waist as you pressed into him. You didn't know what had gotten into you - this wasn't like you at all to grind on a strange man you had just met - but you didn't care. Adam put a hand on your chin and turned your face around towards him, and before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth. You turned around and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, but the kiss didn't last long because you soon felt an arm separating the two of you.

You opened your eyes and saw your ex-boyfriend standing in between the two of you. His hand was on Adam's chest and his eyes were dark, filled with rage, glaring at the man whose tongue had been down your throat mere seconds ago. You had never seen Hakim like this before, and for a second, you were worried that he might punch Adam.

"What the fuck, man?" said Adam, looking up incredulously.

"Get the fuck away from her," said Hakim.

Adam stared back at Hakim for a minute. You held your breath - Hakim had never been the fighting type, but then again, you had never seen him in a situation like this before. You finally breathed a sign of relief as Adam took a step back, likely realizing that this wasn't worth the effort. "Whatever, man," he scoffed, looking at you and then back at Hakim, before walking away.

"What the hell was that?" you said angrily, your relief now turning into annoyance.

"I should be asking you the same question," he said, his eyes still not leaving the back of Adam's head as he walked away, ensuring that he didn't dare turn around and come close to you again.

"We were just dancing!"

"That looked like a lot more than just dancing to me," he said, and his brown eyes finally turned to look into yours, causing your stomach to somersault.

"Well, what do you care? You're not my boyfriend anymore, remember? I can do whatever I please." You felt the anger building up within you, and all of the emotions from the past few weeks started coming up again. This man in front of you - this man who you had loved so deeply, who you would have done anything for - had broken your heart, left you crying in your bedroom for days, and just as you were starting to feel like yourself again, he had the audacity to show up out of nowhere and ruin that?

Hakim's eyes softened as he could tell that you were upset. He hesitated for a moment. "Y/N, I'm sorry... I just couldn't stand seeing him with his tongue down your throat and his hands all over you."

"God, I can't believe you! You broke up with me, remember?" Tears began to well up in your eyes, and to prevent yourself from totally losing control in front of Hakim, you turned away and stormed towards the exit.

To your dismay, Hakim followed. "Baby, please-" he said, as you left the club and stepped into the cool London night.

"Don't call me that! You don't get to call me that anymore!" The tears were now fully running down your cheeks, but you didn't care, you were just so goddamn angry. "You don't know what it's been like, the past few weeks! And just as I'm starting to move on, you have to show up and ruin it."

Hakim put his hand on your shoulder, but you shoved him away. You could tell from his face that he now regretted what he had done in the club. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to hurt you like that, I promise," he said quietly, looking down at his feet, feeling ashamed. "But don't think for a minute that the past few weeks haven't been tough for me, too, okay? You're not the only one who's been suffering."

You scoffed at this. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," he said, looking up at you. "I wanted to call you the second I left your place that night. I wanted to take it all back, everything I had said, but... I was ashamed."

He looked earnest, but your heart didn't want to believe it. The possibility that, while you were bawling your eyes out over him, he was feeling the same way... no, it couldn't be true. If he really meant this, why hadn't he reached out? You had spent days waiting for him to call or to text, and based on his Instagram, it seemed like he had been too busy partying with other girls to apologize to you for the way things had ended.

"I don't believe you," you said, and you turned away from him, walking to the end of the block to hail a taxi.

"Y/N, please. At least let me drive you home."

You ignored him, and instead flagged down a car. As you were about to open the door to the backseat, you felt Hakim's hand on yours. "Please. Please give me another chance, Y/N. I love you." You looked up at him and saw that he was now the one with tears forming in his eyes.

For a second, you thought about it. You thought about all of the memories you had shared together - the dinners, the birthdays, the game days, the family gatherings, the picnics, the trips to Amsterdam and Morocco, the plans for your future together. But despite all of that, you pushed his hand away, opened the door to the taxi, and got in.

"King Street, please," you said to the driver as he pulled away, leaving Hakim standing alone on the sidewalk.

---

The next few days were almost as terrible as the days right after your breakup. Your girlfriends had been blowing up your phone - they had all seen the confrontation with Hakim in the club and wanted to know if you two were back together. You didn't have the heart to tell them what had really happened, so you ignored all of their texts and calls. Instead, you spent the next two days lying in bed, eating takeout and watching silly movies.

Hakim had also been calling and texting you, but you had been ignoring those, too. You didn't want to hear any more of his excuses.

On Sunday, you woke up to your doorbell ringing incessantly. You had gone to bed late last night after staying up watching Netflix and drowning your sorrows in wine. You groaned, turning over to look at the clock and seeing that it was well past 1pm. You hoped that whoever it was who was at the door would go away soon, but after another minute of the doorbell ringing nonstop, you finally pulled the covers off of you and went searching for some pants. You realized that you had been in the same pajama tops all weekend and hadn't showered since you had gotten home from the club, but you hardly had the energy to care at the moment.

You grumpily opened the door to see your sister, Amelia, standing outside holding takeout bags.

"Well, well, well. Look who hasn't been returning my calls," said Amelia, walking past you to make her way in. You rolled your eyes at her and closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

"Well, I heard what happened the other night, and since you weren't answering my calls or texts, I thought it was my sisterly duty to make sure you were okay," she said, as she plopped down on your couch. "Do you have anything to drink, by the way? I'm parched."

Annoyed, you walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a half empty container of juice. "So does everyone on earth now know what happened at the club?" you asked, thoroughly irked that your friends had told your big sister about what had transpired between you and Hakim.

"Not everyone, but since you've been sulking around all weekend and have refused to speak to anyone, the word got around."

"Well, I'm sorry I haven't exactly been in a chatty mood," you said, bringing two glasses to the living room table and sitting down on the couch across from Amelia. You eyed the takeout bags that were on the table, and Amelia grinned knowingly.

"Taco Bell, your favorite."

You couldn't help but smile as you reached for one of the bags. Even when she was annoying the living shit out of you, your sister knew how to make a bad day slightly better.

"So, tell me," said Amelia, taking this opportunity to pry some more information out of you. "What happened with you and Hakim? You never even told me why you two broke up in the first place."

You sighed. "He completely blindsided me. He broke up with me out of nowhere and didn't even give me an explanation. Then he has the audacity to get mad that I'm dancing with someone else at the club."

"Well, I heard that you were doing a little more than just dancing..."

"Okay fine, we made out a little! So what? I could have had sex with him in the middle of the dance floor and that still doesn't mean Hakim had any right to interfere!" You said, exasperated.

"You're right, Y/N. That was an asshole move on his part," Amelia responded. "So what was his reasoning behind what he did?"

"He made up some bullshit about how he regrets breaking up with me and wanted to take it back as soon as he did it, which I don't believe for a second."

Amelia frowned. "Why not?"

"Because if he wanted to take it back, then he could have done so! He could have called, texted, something. Instead, he was out partying while I was in bed crying." Your voice was rising, and you could feel the frustrated tears starting to come up again, so you took another bite and washed it down with some juice to distract yourself.

Amelia was silent for a minute, taking a bite out of her own food, which only irritated you further as you really wanted to hear what she had to say.

"What?" you finally said, annoyed by her silence. "I know you have something to say, so just spit it out."

"It's just... you two were so good together. I agree he did a shitty thing, but maybe he really does regret it, Y/N. You know how men are - they'll never admit that they were wrong. Maybe he was just... embarrassed."

You paused for a second, thinking over what she had just said. Hakim? Embarrassed? You highly doubted that. "Well, that isn't an excuse. An entire year I spent with him, and for him to just end it and then disappear like that? That's fucked up."

Amelia nodded, agreeing with you. The two of you finished your food and you changed the subject, asking about Amelia's life and your family. When she finally left, you decided to hop in the shower and get ready for the week ahead of you, but your mind kept wandering back to what Amelia had said. What if Hakim really had meant what he had said? What if he was just too ashamed to admit he had made a mistake? That certainly didn't justify his actions at the nightclub, you thought to yourself. But maybe you had been a bit too harsh on him...

---

The next day was Monday, and you were kicking yourself that you had to go into work. Despite spending most of the weekend in bed, you were still absolutely exhausted. You knew it was going to be a busy week at work, too, and you were beginning to wish that you had just called in sick. You rode the train in the morning, and when you finally got inside your office, you noticed a beautiful bouquet of roses sitting on your desk. Thinking that it might have been Amelia or one of your friends attempting to cheer you up, you picked up the card and opened it.

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry. Please forgive me.

Love, Hakim

So Hakim had sent you roses. You were surprised, as he had never sent flowers to your work before, even when you were dating. Hakim was romantic, but in a quiet, intimate type of way. He wasn't one for flashy, public gestures like this. You stared at the last line - "Love, Hakim" - for a minute, your thumb circling around the word "Love" as if to make sure that was really what it said.

"Ooh, who's the lucky guy?" Your co-worker, Debbie, popped her head into your office. "Is it that ex of yours? The footballer?" Debbie meant well but she could be rather nosy at times. Still, she was probably your best friend at work, so she had known about Hakim and had been there in the days after your breakup when you were an absolute mess.

You just smiled and said, "Yeah, it's from him."

"Well, whatever it is that he did, I'd forgive him if I were you. I mean, those flowers are beautiful," Debbie chuckled and walked away.

They are beautiful, aren't they? you thought to yourself, as you moved the bouquet to the windowsill and sat down at your desk, suddenly feeling a little bit better about the day ahead.

Later that night, you got home from work, exhausted but determined to cook yourself dinner instead of getting takeout for the fourth night in a row. You kicked off your heels and didn't even bother changing out of your blazer and pencil skirt. You opened your fridge and groaned, realizing that you had very limited options as far as ingredients went. So instead, you reached for a bottle of white wine, and poured yourself a glass.

You had just sat down on your couch and were about to turn on the TV when the doorbell rang. You let out a loud groan. You hoped it wasn't Amelia again, though you wouldn't mind another round of takeout if she were to offer. But when you opened the door, it wasn't Amelia standing in front of you, but instead, it was Hakim.

"Hi," he said shyly, wearing a sweatshirt and track pants. His hair was wet from the rain.

You were too surprised to speak for a moment, but when you finally regained your composure, you muttered back, "Hi."

Hakim paused for a second and then asked, "Can I come in?"

You're not sure what possessed you in that moment, but for some reason, you nodded your head and let him in.

He stepped inside of your flat - the flat that he had spent countless nights in, that he had almost moved into for a few weeks when his own place was undergoing renovations. It hadn't changed much since he had last been in here on that night that had changed everything for the two of you.

"You can sit," you finally said after a few moments of the two of you standing awkwardly in the foyer. Hakim obliged, following you into the living room, where you both took a seat across from each other.

"I hope you liked the flowers," said Hakim.

"Yeah, they were nice, thank you," you answered, looking down at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with him. "Um, do you want something to drink?" you asked.

"No, I'm good, thanks," he responded. After another moment of brief silence, Hakim cleared his throat. "Look, Y/N, I know you probably hate me right now, and you have every right to. You don't have to forgive me, in fact, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But please believe me when I say that I never stopped loving you and I never stopped regretting ending things with you. Yes, I went out for a few nights after we broke up, but that was just to distract myself from what I did. You can ask any of the guys, I was an absolute mess after it ended between us. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life."

You looked up at him, and you could tell from his face that he was telling the truth. "I believe you, Hakim. But that doesn't change how much you hurt me."

"I know, baby, and I'm so, so sorry for that," Hakim answered, moving so that he was now sitting on the couch next to you. "I never wanted to hurt you, ever. I was just scared. We had started talking about our future together, and I've never had that conversation with anyone before. I panicked."

"Well, if that's the case, then you talk to me about it and we have a mature conversation. You can't just end things and then disappear from my life because you're scared."

"I know, I know, I should have just told you. That was my mistake," he answered, taking both of your hands into his. Despite how angry, frustrated, and sad you had been towards him, you couldn't help but feel a deep twinge of affection and love towards him - this boy, sat next to you, who was oh so stupid and immature but oh so perfect for you at the same time.

"Will you forgive me, baby?" he asked, and how could you say no? You nodded, and you both leaned in for an embrace. When you both finally let go, Hakim put his hand underneath your chin and asked gently, "Can I kiss you?" You didn't respond, but instead pressed a soft kiss to his lips. God, how you had missed those lips. Your hands folded around the back of his neck as you pulled him in closer.

"God baby, I missed you so much," he whispered, and you simply whimpered in response, taking this opportunity to push your tongue past his teeth. Your tongues danced around each other as he pulled you in closer, so that you were practically sitting on his lap. After a few minutes, you pulled away, looked up at him and said, "Hakim. Take me to the bedroom."

He grinned at you, and before you knew it, he had picked you up and was carrying you to your room, all while continuing to kiss you on your mouth, your cheeks, your neck. You were so entangled in him that you didn't even notice that you were in your bedroom until you felt the soft bedding underneath you and him on top of you. Your hands moved all over his body, underneath his shirt, as you begged him to take it off. He obliged immediately, pulling his shirt over his head, and then turning his attention to your top. He took your blazer off and unbuttoned your blouse only halfway down, too impatient to fully take it off you. You pulled your bra down to make it easier for him, and as soon as your breasts tumbled out, his mouth was all over them.

"I missed these," he muttered in between his licks. He popped one of your nipples in his mouth while his hand played with the other one. You moaned at the stimulation, and your hand instantly reached for his crotch, while your core ached for him to be inside of you. You unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick, already hard for you with pre-cum glistening from the tip. You instinctually moaned at the sight as your hand worked up and down his shaft.

"I want you to fuck my mouth" you whispered, and Hakim groaned in response. He lifted you up from the bed, and you kneeled before him, licking up and down his length before taking the entirety of him in your mouth.

"You sure about this, Schatje?" he asked, using his old Dutch nickname for you. You nodded. "Let me know if it gets too much," he said, before beginning to thrust into you. You gagged and whimpered around his cock, tears beginning to spill from your eyes as his dick hit the back of your throat over and over again. "Fuuuuck," said Hakim, his head tilting backwards and eyes closing. "That feels amazing." He kept going for a few moments before pulling out of you gently, bringing your mouth up to him to give you a soft kiss. Your cheeks were stained with tears and mascara, and he pulled away from you to wipe them off your face. He then gently pushed you back onto the bed and brought his head down towards the place where you needed him the most. He pulled up your skirt, once again too impatient to take it off fully, and blew hot air onto your panties before pushing them aside.

"Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy," he breathed into your cunt before using his tongue to lick it up and down. "So wet already just from sucking my cock?" he chuckled, and you were too intoxicated by his tongue to retort back. He began lapping at you before moving to suck on your clit the way that only he could. No man had ever eaten you out as divinely as Hakim. He began to run his finger up and down your slit, coating it in your juices before bringing it up to your mouth for you to suck. "Mmm," you moaned while you sucked on his finger, licking your own wetness off of him. It turned him on how much you enjoyed tasting yourself.

"Tastes so good, doesn't it, baby?" he asked, before bringing his finger back down to your core and pushing it in slowly. He curled his finger into you, hitting the spot that only he knew how to hit, and before you knew it, he had slid another finger into you. The knot in your lower stomach tightened and you began to see stars. You knew that you were close, and he knew it too, because he sped up his pace, fucking you with his fingers while sucking on your swollen clit. "Let go for me, darling." That was all you needed to come apart, screaming his name as he continued to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth through your high.

For a second, the only sound in the rom was that of your heavy panting. Hakim came up to face you and began planting kisses all over your mouth and face. "You look so pretty like this," he whispered, but you were too busy riding out the lingering pleasure to respond. Once you had come down from your high, you grabbed his face and brought his mouth to your lips, sloppily kissing him. "Hakim," you said in between kisses, "Please fuck me."

You didn't have to ask him twice. He grabbed his cock and aligned it with your entrance, coating it in your juices before pushing all the way in. You cried out in pleasure - the familiar way he stretched you out was too much to bear. Hakim looked down as his dick slid in and out of your pussy.

"Fuuuuck, you're squeezing me so tight, baby," he cried. The lewd sound of his dick squelching against your walls filled your bedroom. You sat up on your hands and looked down, this new angle increasing the intensity with which you felt him inside of you. You screamed out, and began to bring your hand to your mouth out of habit, but he moved it away. "No baby, I want to hear you." With his permission, you cried out his name, begging for him to go faster, and he obliged.

Sensing that you were close to unraveling again, he brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing circles into it. "Fuck baby, keep doing that, don't stop," you whimpered, as you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm of the night.

"I'm close, angel. Where do you want it?" he asked, his voice strained and his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his high.

"Inside me. I want it inside me, baby, please."

Your words sent him over the edge and you followed not long after him. He cried out your name as he came deep inside of you, your clenching pussy milking him for every last drop of his hot cum. He leaned against your chest, his head falling beside you, as you both tried to catch your breath. He stayed inside of you for a moment before pulling out and rolling beside you.

"I love you," he whispered, bringing your face close to his.

"I love you, too, Hakim," you whispered back.

"Let's clean you up, darling. You ready for a shower?"

You nodded, and wrapped your arms around him as he carried you to the bathroom, just like he had done countless times before.

#hakim ziyech #football fic #football imagine #football smut #football angst #football fluff #football fanfic #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer fic #footballer smut #hakim ziyech imagine #hakim ziyech fic #hakim ziyech fanfic #hakim ziyech smut #hakim ziyech angst

[palmtreesx3]

Act 2 - Exploration

Lubrication (Steve's Chapter)

<;- Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ->

Series Masterlist

Get in the mood for this installment:

Series Playlist

Lubricant Mood Board

Summary: (9.3K) While Robin and Alex approach serious relationship territory, Steve still finds himself bubbling around the city solo. Steve is now spreading is wings, nonetheless, finding things (albeit tentatively) that he genuinely is enjoying for himself, not for others. We see Alex and Steve connect and start to build a relationship and loads of supportive friendship from the ladies towards their #1 guy. The antics in the shop are going full force and a memorable night comes from one charismatic customer interaction and more chance meetings with you encourage Steve to seal the deal. Seeing Steve start to loosen up is the name of this game. So slide in and enjoy this chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, sexual innuendo aplenty, Drag Queen's and LGBTQ+ culture, failed dating, male masturbation, shop talk, porn watching, fluffy f/f affection and one-sided lust.

The sound of rubber hitting the pavement follows Steve along, while the sun is cresting along Lake Michigan and bouncing prisms off the skyscrapers along the lakeside trail. Sweat is trailing from the hairs on his neck, down the curve of his spine and the wind is whipping at his face. The last three weeks, Steve has taken up running in the early mornings. Something he used to do out of obligation but is now doing by choice. Stripping away the "expectation" of running for distance or speed or endurance and settling into the idea of running for the feeling, the self care.

 It's not that he's feeling self conscious, really, but the softness around his tummy does make him pause in the mirror lately. He never noticed before how much being truly active made him feel good. That being athletic wasn't just about a big win or suffering through the aftermath of a loss in his living room at the hands of his father. So here Steve is with another new hobby and a little more self discovery, and the time he spends running and thinking allows him to be just a little more level headed than he ever was before.

He's been exploring this idea that he spent so long running from, that being alone doesn't need to be lonely. He's discovered that independence was about surviving on his own and going through life with absent parents - still making it to each game not only on time but early, never missing a doctor's appointment, eating dinner and not surviving on pizza. This is something different. This is doing things alone because you want to, experiencing things for yourself, being comfortable in your interests and and comfort in knowing who you are and who you might want to be. Autonomy, individuality. 

In his post-run haze, Steve is sprinting up the steps after his morning run one day when he's abruptly stopped in the hallway by a swinging door to his face and an angry teenager storming out of it right into his path. He's heard them before - his neighbors - probably the worst part of their apartment living situation was whatever went on over there. The boy, whoever he was, was loud, angry. when he was actually home and wasn't angry, he was blasting music that made the walls shake. He was mean. And most times the girl would not respond. Her voice wouldn't be heard over his. Every so often she'd stand her ground and shout back, but when she did there were always slammed doors, the bang of fits on the wall. All things that made Steve's skin crawl. 

This time, he didn't hear the shouts or the argument but he saw the aftermath. The tear stricken face of the redhead girl who didn't look up from her feet as she stormed out, and walked right into his chest. "Sorry. Fuck. Sorry." She snapped as her striking blue eyes bore through him like he should be sorry for what he said - when he didn't even say a thing. "Hey hey hey… you good?" Steve reaches up to grab her shoulders and look at her directly. 

"Yeah I'm fuckin' peachy. What do you care?" She bites back harder. 

" I- I'm your neighbor, Steve. I mean, I … "

"Oh, so you hear all the shit my brother of the year says to me then, huh? Don't look at me like that." There's that bite again. "I don't want your pity."

"No, no. It's not like that I… I'm just."

He's caught off guard by the healthy eye roll he receives by the young girl who moved to push past Steve, who still finds himself holding her shoulders in place as some form of comfort or grounding. "C'mon, don't be like that. I'm not trying to be an asshole, just… where are you going? "

"Over the rainbow. Fantasia, Sesame Street. Literally anywhere but with that dickwad."

"What about .. would you just come in our place? Hide out there for a while?"

" Are you some fuckin weirdo? I don't even know you. " 

" I know… I know, I just… you shouldn't have to run like that. Just, c'mon. I'll leave you alone, just… come hang out in our place. Robin's in there. We… we can just - please let me help you out." He has no idea why he feels the need to help this nameless girl so badly, he just knows that he does. 

"Listen. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need you. I was fine before you moved in, I'll still be fine now that you're here." 

Steve knows when to stop pushing, even though his stubborn streak tells him to keep going. This time he decides to bite his tongue and let it go. "For what it's worth, I used to think I didn't need anyone else either." And with that he walked around her and left the girl standing in the hallway. Looking back one last time before walking through his doorway he catches her standing in the hallway for a beat, before storming towards the elevator doors. 

Things have been slow this afternoon, only the dull buzz of the cc camera system running in the background and the mundane tapping of the duo on the glass case counter. Steve and Robin are killing time behind it, perched on backless stools, legs kicked up along side one another on the glass "Alex is really just...dude. She makes me feel so mature. Like… I don't feel like a bumbling idiot band freak for once in my life. I think this is going somewhere Steve. You gotta meet her. Okay? You gotta. I don't think I can get any more serious with her unless you meet her and like her, too."

"Robbie, just bring her around. Stop over thinking things. Jesus Christ. I love you. I'm sure I'll love her too. Just… invite her over or something. Not everything has to be a big event."

And as if he could smell that a serious conversation was going on without him, Murray busts in to the store floor. "Hey  video store boy, I gotta job for you today!" he tosses a giant box of used porn tapes up on the counter. "These puppies need to be rewound and checked so we can do a discount sale." 

"Ah fuck. I left these days behind me, man? Wait - did you say checked? Like for what? "

"Quality, damage, ya know… .looks like you're watching some porn today, Romeo! You can use the back room, buddy boy. I won't judge you if you want to spank it while you watch ‘em through. S'been awhile, right? Can't let Robin and her little girlfriend be the only one getting off around here."

Steve scoffs at Murray's comment. "The fuck, man? That was uncalled for."

Robin stifles a giggle. "He makes a point, Stevie. You haven't had much luck since nightclub chick on the first weekend. This might be a record drought for you. Are you even trying? I thought you were going out some of those nights? Nothing work out?" 

"Robin. C'mon. I'm not talking about this with you …both of you …now." Steve doesn't want to explain that he's gone on a few dates with the girls he meets out at the bars or clubs, but those nights Robin is out, that's when Steve has been going out, sure, but it's been solo. Sitting at different restaurant bars, sampling new foods, trying to figure his life out. 

And as if the Sex Shop Gods heard his prayers, the bell rings signaling a customer.- the first one all afternoon. "I'll do your stupid tapes after this." He grumbles; a charming customer service voice turned up full throttle after that "Hello sir! Welcome. What can I help you with today? " 

The suit clad man, Steve estimated to be in his mid 40s, joins Steve at the counter and in hushed tones asks for some help picking out a good quality lube. "Yeah man, let's get you hooked up." He claps his hands together and leads the man to the racks across the store.

"Boys sensitive. Still got some shit going on, yeah?" Murray mumbles to Robin. She sighs and just nods in his direction. 

"Yeah, man. I thought he was keeping busy, going on dates or whatever when I go out with Alex but something isn't adding up. He went through a phase where he was striking out with every girl left and right when I met him, and this isn't the same… " she trails off.

"... Prince Charming is still falling short." Murray finishes, as he gazes at Steve across the store. 

Steve emerges from the back room hours later, rubbing his hands down his face looking exhausted. " Rob, you gotta come back here with me. I can't watch one more of these pornos by myself. I think I'm going delirious - oh shit. Sorry I didn't know we had a customer. Sorry."

"Steve. Dingus. Chill. It's… not a customer. This… uh. This is -"

"Hey, what's up? I'm Alex. And you're Steve. Cuter up close." She winks at him, eyes glistening with mischief as she leans in with an outstretched hand. Her firm handshake taking Steve by surprise. 

"Oh fuck. Hey. It's good to meet you Alex. .. what do you mean cuter up close?"

"Uh yeah. I mean I'm pretty sure I left out that part about when we met. She… she thought you were my boyfriend - "

"Typical. " Steve cocks his shoulder up in a shrug. 

"- Exactly. That's what I said. But anyway. She thought we were dating because she'd see us at the coffee shop and she was… "

"I was admiring you guys from afar. Thought you were the fuckin cutest pair. Called you Coffee Shop couple in my mind." She confidently explains.

"Stalker. " Steve teases. 

"Robs, I like him. Yeah, so until I ran into Robin that day by herself I was just daydreaming of this unattainable coffee shop couple. I guess if you're not real, at least I could settle for half of you,"

"The better half," Robin muses. The twinkle of a Tamagotchi goes off in the background. 

"Go care for your spawn, Robin, or you're gonna owe me another drink tonight." Steve teases. 

"Fuck! I don't have the extra cash to carry your drinking habits this week, Harrington." She shouts as she sprints off to the break room to fetch her keychain. 

"She's something else." Alex says, now left alone with Steve for the first time." Sorry if I came off stalker-y. I tend to come on strong."

"Funny enough, I actually know the feeling. You're fine. You make her happy and that's all I ever want for her." He smiles. 

"You're a good friend, Steve." Alex gets out, before Robin barrels into the store floor again swinging her keychain, shit eating grin on her face. "It lives to die another day! No drinks for you tonight, Harrington." 

"You guys need some company? What's on the agenda this afternoon? I'm free for the next few hours?" Alex leans back on the counter looking between the pair.

"Well …  dingus here just was asking for some company as he reviews the secondhand pornos in the back room. Quality checks on the pros knocking boots. Wanna come?" Robin offers. "I got snacks."

"Oh hell yeah, I'm coming" she responds quickly, grabbing Robin's hand and following her to the back room.

What the fuck, Steve thinks to himself. He's never met someone as bold and free as Alex and he's only known her for 15 minutes. He shakes his head and comes to the conclusion that yes, he's gonna spend his afternoon watching pornos with his best friend and her girlfriend. All for a paycheck. Can't make this shit up. He runs his hands through his hair and follows the pair back behind the drapes. "Alex, as the guest of honor, you pick the next one. Anything on the pile. I'll rewind and get it rolling."

This time it's a totally kitschy plotline where the maid gets herself stuck in the oven while she's cleaning it rolls on the box screen television in the back. Robin is sat on the old couch with Alex next to her, arm tossed over her shoulder rubbing her thumb along her exposed skin. Steve perches himself along the arm of the couch, back to the wall, legs kicked up the trio laid back with a soundtrack of moans and groans in the background. Steve's eyes are flitting between the screen and the two girls on the couch before he breaks the silence. 

"So we're either gonna make this funny, or it might get totally weird, what's it gonna be?"

"You mean you don't want to sensually watch this girl get a banana in the fruit salad while we're both here? Don't enjoy watching some random dude fill the cream donut with your best friend and her girl?" 

Steve groans and her never-ending wild euphemisms for sex before Alex throws a wide, teasing grin his way before saying, "Look at her tits. No wonder she got stuck. They have to be the size of watermelons."

Robin giggles before her own observations come tumbling forth, "Listen, we all know a man is basically the least appealing thing on the planet to me, but that guy's legs look like a chicken. Am I wrong?"

"Nah, he needs to go for a run. Do a leg day or something." Steve laughs back. "I'm surprised he even has any power behind that thrust."

And things go on like this for the rest of the afternoon, fits of sarcasm, giggles, and gaping mouths, especially for Robin as she wails out and hides her eyes every time a guy slips it in on the screen, Alex teasing her relentlessly "C'mon! It's just biological. That guy's dick actually isn't that bad. He's got some girth." A louder groan comes from Robin as she tries to block out the words from her ears. "Robs, it's like… it's probably like when I use three fingers instead of two, you like that."

"Nope! Nope. I'm out. I'm done." Steve yells, throwing his hands up in the air and pushing off the couch arm where he was still lounging. "I don't need to hear that shit. Fuck right off, both of you."

Robin's face is a mix of pure embarrassment intermingling with absolute entertainment. Her shocked face morphing into a shit eating grin at Steve's uncomfortable pacing. 

"You two finish these tapes together. No funny business on that couch either because I nap there. None of this three fingers bullshit. Fuck. ROBIN. I… " Steve's ranting fades off into the distance as he walks through the curtain still blabbering, hands on his hips, leaving Alex and Robin full on cackling in the back room. 

Not twenty minutes goes by before Robin hears the ding of the bell and a voice that's not Steve's shout "What the fuck did you sell me? My dick is falling off!" The pair’s eyes go wide and dart to look at one another and back at the curtain before they both clamber over one another to push through the curtain. Just about the same time, Murray is emerging from his back office to see what the fuss is about. 

"You need to fix this!" The older suited man from earlier bellows at Steve across the counter.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about. Do you mean the tingling?"

"Tingling? My dick is gonna fall off, did you hear me?"

"What the fuck, man! Are you having a reaction?" Steve shouts back. 

"You did this to me!"

Steve’s voice wavers under the weight of the unexpected confrontation, stumbling over words as he attempts to respond. "I-I mean, seriously?" he shakes his head, expressing a blend of confusion and frustration. "I.. what-what the fuck. I didn't do anything!"

"Sir, sir, please calm down and explain what your issue is. If my Associate here made a mistake I'm sure - " he glares over at Steve "he will apologize. Right?" 

"Yeah yeah, Christ. Just… your dick isn't gonna fall off man, let's just figure this out."

And before any of them knows it, the man's dick is out of his pants and slapped on top of the counter for the whole group to see. Even Murray is surprised by this turn of events and hesitates before he can come up with anything to say. "Ok, what the fuck, man?"

This time, more calmly, dick still out on the glass, the man explains that he thinks his dick is going to fall off because it won't stop burning. Steve goes on to recount for the group that yes, that probably is true because the man picked out tingling lube, so he should, justifiably expect some tingling. "Why would I want my dick to burn like this? I thought that meant like… a good orgasm."

"No man, when I said this one tingles, I literally meant it tingles."

"So, that's why my asshole is burning, too?" The buttoned up man whispers to Steve sheepishly. "I- I used a lot."

"Yeah buddy. Yeah... That's… wh-why your asshole is burning, too. How about we… get ya a new one and send you on your way so you can shower? How's that? "

Things go on like this for about a week. Robin and Steve working and Alex popping in daily to spend some time there with them. Murray has taken a liking to her, too. Obviously, with her quick wit and bold nature, they're quite an unruly pair. Robin is often embarrassed as the two of them get into conversation (and sometimes debates) about work, life, Murray's experiences in the 70s, recreational drugs, politics, of course sex and more. Steve often is the brunt of any teasing, which he learns to take with surprising agreeableness, often waving them off as he walks away bitching, but not doing much to hide his smirk at the exchange either. 

In between Alex's shameless flirting with Robin, today's customer comes in and unlike the typical bumbling hesitation so many have when they walk in the sex shop, fresh with the self-perceived shame of coming in a place like this for pleasure, this one marches in with purpose. The man, with perfectly gelled platinum blonde hair and meticulously crafted eyebrows nods at the crew commingled around the register as he beelines it for the BDSM section. 

Its moments later before the man, wearing the tightest jeans Steve has ever seen (and that's saying a lot. He knows his are snug), smacks down the most high end leather whip that the store carries - handles laden in sparkling jewels, the smell of genuine leather catching their noses. "Hey man." He says to Steve, as he waits to be checked out. 

"Bitchin' choice" Robin compliments. 

"Yeah? You like this stuff?"

"Oh fuck no, it's still cool though."

"I gotta be honest, I don't either. But it's not for that. It's part of my outfit - my costume. I do drag and I needed a little something extra for the show next weekend. It just wasn't edgy enough for the new theme."

Alex is immediately interested. "Drag? What's your costume? Do you have a character?" Totally perked up and leaning in to hear more. 

"My drag name is Roxy Royale. We dance at The Rainbow Room downtown. It's a Dungeons and DRAGons show next weekend. I shouldn't spoil it and you should just come to the show to see what I'm wearing!" Emphasizing the drag when he speaks. 

He sees the varying levels of interest on the group's face, ranging from pure excitement to total confusion, the latter of which was written all over Steve's face. "Loads of people come. All different types." He looks directly at Steve and then back to the other two girls, "I promise, it won't make you gay, it's just a good time."

Robin and Alex chime in " .. already there buddy."  Alex looks at Steve, still looking kind of uncomfortable and says "Steve, c'mon. Stop being so Hawkins and let's go." 

Robin hums in agreement before she adds "But you're not wearing a polo." 

The anticipation buzzed in the air as Steve, Robin, and Alex stood in line outside The Rainbow Room, the venue hosting the Dungeons and Dragons drag show. Neon lights illuminated the night, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the excited crowd. Steve shifted uncomfortably, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity as he adjusted the collar of one of the new shirts he picked out with the help of Robin and Alex - his polo traded for a simple black short sleeved button up with a collar, Nikes traded for a new pair of Converse, much to Robin's delight. 

Earlier that night, after taking some extra time getting himself ready, he was nervous for the opinion of his friend. "Dude. Yes. Dude! Did you do that all on your own? Cuff up those pants like that? Hell yes. Let's fuckin' go!" And with just that little praise, he felt a little more at ease, but now standing there after Alex just popped open one more button at the top of the collar to show off a little more of his freckle spattered chest and a wisp of the patch of hair hiding underneath, he's trying hard not to be self conscious. 

This was a far cry from the small town house parties he was used to, and his heart raced at the thought of stepping into this new world, especially in these new shoes. Even those first few weekends out at the huge night club didn’t make him feel quite as nervous. Maybe it was a mix of the fact that he was standing in line waiting for a Drag Show and the fact that he’s wearing clothing that he bought specifically to prove to Robin that he can loosen up a little, but he’s feeling more like he doesn’t belong than ever. 

Robin, on the other hand, was practically bouncing on her toes. She couldn't help but shoot excited glances at Alex, who constantly exudes that confident aura that only amplifying Robin's enthusiasm. Alex's arm was casually draped around Robin's shoulders, and she leaned in to press a quick kiss to Robin's temple, a gesture that grounded Robin's nervous energy and filled her with warmth.

As they finally stepped into the venue, the energy enveloped them like a whirlwind. The air was filled with laughter, and the mesmerizing beat of music. Glitter and sequins adorned every corner, reflecting prismatic light off of every surface. The cocktail waitresses had hair teased high and arches in their lipstick drawn just as dramatically. 

"Wow," Steve breathed, his eyes wide as he took in the exuberant surroundings.

"Oh, I can get behind this! Look at these outfits! Everyone looks so AMAZING!” Robin continues to take it all in.

Alex smirks and leans over into Steve, their burgeoning friendship something Steve has found himself grateful for on more than one occasion already, "Don't worry, Steve. Your sense of adventure is about to level up."

They found seats at a table draped with a sequined tablecloth, the anticipation growing as they ordered drinks - one called Ruff'n'Tough for Alex, a Pop My Cherry for Robin, and Steve's, a Sex Panther, which made the girls grin wide and stifle back giggles when he ordered it from the cocktail waitress. 

Despite its delicate pink color from the grenadine, the zip of bourbon against Steve's tongue gives him some simple comfort. Gazing on at the stage adorned with a dragon-themed backdrop, and the lights dimmed as the emcee, Roxy Royale herself, strutted onto the stage in a dazzling, shimmering gown that seemed to change colors with every movement. The trio cheered loudly as Roxy brandished the recognizable whip during her lavish entrance.  

As the performances began, Steve's initial unease slowly melted away. The performers were masters of their craft and it was way less sexual than he honestly expected. The performers' routines merged fantasy, comedy, and sensuality and clearly took a lot of talent. Robin leaned over to Steve, her eyes showing off just how much fun she was having. "See, Stevie? It's all about embracing yourself. Not one person here is having a bad time. Look at them!"

Steve chuckled, feeling himself relax as he watched a performance that involved a sword fight with inflatable dragons, all set to a pulsating dance beat. He found himself clapping and whooping along with the crowd and he couldn’t even hide the fact that he was enjoying himself if he tried. 

Alex leaned over her girlfriend's lap and into Steve's space, her tone playful when she says "Steve… these performers sure know how to wield their swords, wouldn’t you agree."

Steve's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement dancing in his eyes. He shook his head and laughed, finally letting go of his reservations. "Total experts." He agrees. 

As the night unfolded, their table became a hub of excitement. They exchanged laughs, stories, and delighted gasps, camaraderie growing stronger with each performance. Steve found himself caught up in the energy, even joining the crowd in dancing as sparkling, iridescent confetti falls from the ceiling during the finale, the group clapping along to Madonna’s “Like a Prayer".  The three are shouting into the crowd, truly not having a care in the world.

Once the performances are over, the crowd congregates and enjoys the pumping beats of the music along with the performers on the dance floor. One big syncopated rhythm running through the entire crowd. Steve had shed his initial reservations completely and was now dancing with newfound confidence, amongst his friends and complete strangers, the dip in his shirt opening just one more button now - maybe by accident, maybe his fingers found their way there on their own and loosened it up just one more notch. Steve won’t admit this out loud, but everything here at this place feels so much safer and enjoyable than any night he’s spent with his friends out at the local clubs. 

When the familiar opening notes of "It's Raining Men" fill the air, the crowd erupts in cheers and claps. All the performers on the floor start catcalling all the men in the crowd as the music starts to pick up and the notes crescendo, energy building along with the beat. 

Suddenly, the room dims slightly, and a spotlight shone on a dazzling figure at the center of the stage. The performer adorned in shimmering hot pants, twirling a rhinestone bedazzled umbrella above her head holds the audience's attention. “I got one more for ya, Bitches!” She exclaims and with a mischievous grin, she scans the crowd. And in a flash, her gaze lands on Steve.

"Oh honey, look who we have here!" The drag queen's voice boomed through the speakers, her words carrying a blend of playfulness and allure.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he was being singled out and the crowd is cheering him on. He exchanged glances with Robin and Alex, who were clearly delighted by the turn of events, Robin clapping her hands and jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas. With hot pink tipped nails, the performer extends her hand, beckoning him toward the stage with a flick of her wrist. "C'mon honey. Don't keep me waiting."

With an encouraging nod from his friends, Steve found himself moving toward the stage, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness - but he’s surprised to notice it’s not at all the embarrassment he might have expected. The crowd parted like a sea, creating a path for him to reach the stage. 

Steve reached the stage, feigning as much of his King Steve confidence as possible on the way there, the drag queen held out her hand, her smile inviting and warm. "Come on, sweetheart! Let's show them how it's done!"

Caught up in the moment, Steve took her hand, feeling an unexpected surge of genuine confidence, so he dropped the act, giving her a real, thousand watt beaming smile - the kind he used to use on all the girls back in Hawkins to make them melt. The performer expertly led him into a dance, her movements fluid and engaging and Steve took all the bait. He threw his head back in laughter, matching her steps to the best of his ability while the cheers and whistles of the crowd fueled his ego. 

As the song reached its climax, the performer spun Steve around before twirling herself, their movements synchronized to the music and the crowd roared in approval, the energy radiating through the room.

When the song ended the performer pulled Steve into a theatrical bow, popping her hip out and gesturing towards Steve with open arms, the crowd erupting in applause once again. Steve's cheeks were flushed, happiness painting his expression while his chest heaved up and down from exertion.

After he stepped down from the stage hands reaching out to shake his, clapping at his back out of acknowledgement and camaraderie, he makes his way towards the bar near the back of the room to get himself a drink and take a seat. As he slides out the barstool and slides in, a sweet voice next to him says “Well that was unexpected, Pearl Jam.” 

His eyes snap open, lips barely touching the glass of beer he desperately wants to throw back for hydration, as he looks to his right to find the pretty girl he immediately recognizes from the Record Store. “Pearl Jam? I think that’s a better nickname for you - it’s good by the way. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I’m into it. So thanks, for that.” 

“Hmm, I’m glad you did. I feel accomplished when I do my civic duty and turn random cute strangers on to good music.” You say with a smile, and before Steve can respond, you’re up off your stool and lost in the crowd. Steve is left sitting there sipping his beer, shaking his head with a smile on his lips wondering what your name really is and what brought you here tonight, and only for a split second, did Steve wonder if he's ever run into you again.

By the end of the evening, early morning at this point, the trio finds themselves standing outside The Rainbow Room, faces glowing with joy and a lot of new memories. 

"I can't believe we almost missed this," Steve admitted with a smile, the words carrying a hint of wonder.

Robin bumped her shoulder playfully against Steve's. "Hey, sometimes you just have to roll a natural 20 on your courage check." 

Alex grinned and intertwined her fingers with Robin's. "And look where it took us. An unforgettable night with dragons, glitter, and Steve Harrington dancing on stage twirling an umbrella."

“Listen, and you’d never believe what happens next…” Robin shouts down the bar. 

“Robin! C’mon.” Steve begs. 

“Oh no, Red, you gotta tell us. Please, tell us what happened next.” Murray encourages. Their boss has joined the pair for a few drinks after a late night closing up shop and preparing for The Hideout’s semi-annual sale, so Murray can make room for new inventory after he travels to the annual Adult Novelty Trade Show in Boston in a few weeks. 

“Fine, let me do it. She….they picked me out and I went up on stage.”

“NO.” Murray gasps. Clutching his hand to his chest like he’s grasping onto a set of pearls.

Hopper is slapping the bar in laughter as Joyce pours Steve a shot “Here honey, it’s on the house for all this abuse you’re taking. If you had fun, that’s all that matters.”

“Hop, you should have seen him. It was amazing.” She shouts as she stands over by the jukebox. Before Steve’s brain catches up to Robin’s antics, he realizes too late what she is doing, and the opening bars of “It’s Raining Men” blare over the speakers. 

“NO NO NO!” Murray chants. “THIS was the song? Jesus that’s fuckin priceless, pretty boy.”

After some back and forth debate on whether or not Steve should give an encore performance on the bar of Bennys, the crew opts to forgo that experience in favor of another round. Steve’s treat if only to “Shut you all the fuck up.” 

The group settles into smaller conversations, Hop and Joyce getting the latest scoop on Robin and Alex and their most recent dates at the end of the bar. Joyce, looking on at Robin thrilled and proud like a mother, would be learning about her little girl’s first love. Murray is still seated next to Steve and, unlike his normal taunting of the boy, he genuinely starts asking Steve about how he’s settling in these days.

“Man, it’s been hard actually. I had no idea how little I had myself figured out until I came here. I feel like a fish out of water sometimes, but it’s kinda been fun trying to figure it all out.” Steve ruminates. “Thanks…for actually asking, though.”

“Red really is the only one lucky enough to bag a girl, though? Huh? I don’t mean to always tease, but what’s the deal? I know you got it in you. A face like that, I know. you know how to use it” He settles back into a slight tease. 

Steve takes a few minutes to tell him about Melissa - oh god, what a jab to the ego that was - and a few other mundane dates he set up with random girls he met the night prior at the club or the bar they went out to over the weekend. But what he can't figure out is why they all fell short. Every single one. Despite their agreeableness to meet him in the daylight, they had no real interest in being on a date with him, they only wanted to get liquored up and dance with him in the dark. He’s been either bored to death or strung up and eaten alive and there has been absolutely no in between. 

“Okay, but…have you ever asked a woman out on a date?” He holds his hand up at Steve to cut off his impending rebuttal “NOT a girl. A woman. And not some small town high school date to the movies or the make out point on the bluff. A date where you do something and learn something about each other?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but realizes he has nothing to say.

"Dude you gotta lube 'em up before you slide home. I get that you were prom king or whatever but that's not how the world works. Women. Real women are not going to just throw themselves at you because you can flip your hair outta your eyes. "

They both bring their beers up to their lips and Steve considers the man's advice in silence. “Because it sounds like you're trying to catch yourself a good woman but you're out here using bait for girls. Good women know their value and they don't sell themselves short. They did that. Some twerp like you fucked them up one time and they went on a path of self discovery. So if you're laying down fuckboy shit, that's all you'll get in return.”

Steve nods, taking in what Murray has to say and thinking hard. "Yeah, that…makes more sense than I want to even admit. Especially to you.” The pair exchange a glance and Steve stretches out his beer towards Murray, who bears his teeth wide as he reaches back to clink his glass with Steves.

"Stevie, c'mere!" He hears Robin call from her bedroom.

"What! Robin. I swear to God you two better be clothed." 

The door creaking open slowly, he's met with Robin and Alex laying with their backs on the floor, snuggled close together, legs propped up in the air on the bed. "Nah, no Afternoon Delight in here today."

"Robin, where in the hell do you keep coming up with these? For a girl who wouldn't talk about boobies with me a few years ago, this is ridiculous."

"What can I say, I'm coming -" she says suggestively with a wink "- into my own. "

"Ok that's enough Sex Talk with Robin, whaddya want?"

Steve jumps onto Robin's bed, bouncing a bit as the mattress settles, legs crossing theirs and looking down on the pair tangled on the floor. After a lead-in of stumbling, stuttering worlds from Robin, Alex interrupts her girlfriend to save everyone from the stress induced misery "As you surely can see, Robin is a little stressed." 

"Yeah, what about, Robbie?"

"This little lady here wants to see if you want to join us tonight."

He looks at Robin and then back at Alex confused "Were not hanging out tonight, it's your weekly date night? " 

The pair go on to explain how Robin is worried because Murray told her he's not actually going on dates when they are out on theirs and it's giving her a complex about leaving her best friend behind. For a moment he's irritated that Murray would open his cocky big mouth like that, but he takes a second to consider that it wasn't to talk about him behind his back and make fun of him. After their heart to heart at the bad, he can see that Murray actually means well. 

"Robbie, look at me. It's okay. I'm not sitting around moping. I… I actually go out on my own. Enjoy a meal, try a new drink. It's nice actually. Did you know I actually like red wine? And.. maybe I'll third wheel on another day - that's NOT your date night. I'll take you to one of the places I found. It's… I promise I'm actually really good with it. I don't feel lonely when you're out together. "And it's the softness in his moss colored eyes that's the only thing that put Robin at ease. She was just so concerned that leaving him alone made him feel the same as he did in Hawkins, but she could see that her friend was being honest. She could see that he meant it when he didn't feel lonely and she believed him. 

And so instead of quietly dusting off on his own after Robin leaves on her date, they get ready together. Alex assuring them that they both look great, Steve needing more encouragement than Robin as he digs into the pile of new clothing again, he eventually just lets the pair pick out his options, leaving him with well fitting black denim, opting for the comfort of the black chucks he's already taken to wearing. "Cuff 'em again, hot stuff. That was a good look for you." Robin mentions as she finishes off his outfit by handing him a deep emerald green short sleeve button up with subtle little vertical stripes running its length. 

"Do me a favor, and leave it open. Don't button yourself up. You get too stuffy." He glares at Robin, getting a little bold with her opinion "... Please." She tacks on with a forced smile.

The three exit the building together and even take the train as a group until Alex tugs at Robin's hand signaling the end of their ride. Steve has a few more stops, so he settles into his seat solo as he waves at the girls, shouting after them to have a good night and stay out of trouble.

The sun is setting over the city now, casting shadows through orange and lavender tinted clouds as he approaches a restaurant downtown that looks interesting and has space at the bar. It's a little more sleek than he normally would pick out, shiny bar laden with expensive looking cocktails and bottles behind the bar, patrons sprinkled through the dining area tucked in close to one another on dates or crowded around raucous tables fill of businessmen after work. Steve's moving his fingers and toying absentmindedly with the buttons of his shirt hanging loose as he slides in to the last open spot at the bar.

After enjoying his meal and having a few glasses of wine, whatever the bartender recommend, he sits back and enjoys a moment of people watching. Considering what kind of stories all of these other people have. If the bartender always lived in the city or came here running away from something; If the two women next to him fiddling with their wedding rings love their husbands at all after overhearing their complaints over cosmos all night; if the men in business suits at the corner table closed a deal today or are just so rich they do this every week.

He wonders if the girl sitting with his back to him is on a first or maybe a third… quickly deciding it had to be a first date by the way they weren't touching and how he saw her leg bouncing. But it's the way she throws back her half full glass of wine in one gulp tells him that she's not having a good time, so with nothing better to do he decides to watch someone else's date go down in flames, and continues sipping while glancing their way. 

Steve noticed that the date, buttoned up and looking a little stuffy with his hair slicked back, almost looking wet, and his fingers tapping along to nothing in particular on the table has not stopped talking - at least since Steve's last glass was refilled. Unsurprisingly, the girl raises to her feet gesturing in the direction of the bathroom, and Steve readjusts to make sure it's not so obvious he's watching. 

But it's on her way back, heels clicking along the shiny tiles of the restaurant that Steve chances a glance and knows exactly who this mystery woman is. Well, not exactly. He has no idea what your name is, but he knows exactly who you are. The girl from the record store. Pearl Jam. And it seems as though you recognize him, too, eyes catching one another just for an instant as you pass.

Now he’s distracted. You’ve never stayed put long enough in the two times you’ve crossed paths previously for him to truly take you in, so he’s doing it now. Drinking you in like the wine in his hand. He can see now, from this angle, the curve of your nose and makes particular note of the way your hair falls. He wonders for a moment what it feels like when someone runs their fingers through it. He sees the deep color of your eyes, and can tell by the way you’re sitting and carrying yourself in the face of a date that looks like a total douchebag that you aren’t easy to impress, nor are you easy to rattle. Stubborn, I bet, Steve thinks to himself.

Looking at his watch, one of the only nice things his dad ever bought him that he chose to bring along in this new life, he decides one more drink is about enough before heading home. Mid-way through his last glass, he sees the table you and the date were occupying is being bussed, presumed bad date over. Steve pays the bartender, and tips well. Probably too well for his Sex Shop Salary, but it’s at least one good habit he learned from his otherwise despicable father. 

Stepping outside of the restaurant, Steve immediately sees you standing near the curb across the street, searching through your bag with a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on your face. Steve observed from a distance, his curiosity piqued seeing you standing there alone. As you reach your hand out to hail a cab while continuing to rifle through your pocketbook, Steve hesitated for a moment before making a decision. He crossed the street, his steps purposeful. As he approaches, you looked up from your bag, and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Steve offered a friendly smile, hoping to ease any awkwardness.

"Need some help, Pearl Jam?" he asked, his voice carrying a touch of warmth.

You blinked in surprise, then sighed in relief. "Actually, yes. My date's idea of chivalry didn't include paying for the cab fare. Or my meal for that matter. Told me I seemed to be into feminism and all so I should have no problem covering my own meal. Can you believe that shit? So..I think I'm short on a goddamn cab and...." 

Steve chuckled, "Well, that doesn't sound very chivalrous at all."

With a sheepish grin, you shrugged. "Yeah, tell me about it. Lesson learned, I guess."

As the cab pulls up, Steve offers you a solution. “Which way are you going? We can share instead?” and he can see the relief roll off of your shoulders. 

“At this point, I don’t even care which direction you’re going. I’ll join you as long as it’s away from here.” 

Steve's lips twitched with amusement. "Sounds like you're having quite the night."

You rolled your eyes, then glanced at him. "How about you? Just leaving the restaurant? Where's your date?"

"Yeah, just finishing up, and there was no date. Just me." Steve replied. "Honestly, it's been a pretty uneventful evening until now." He flashes a smile.

And as the cab ride continued, both you and Steve found that the conversation flowed easily. Now, to his great pleasure, he knows your actual name. He knows that, though you look too young to be so accomplished, you work at Loyola University and are a professor teaching both psychology and art and blending the two as often as you can in special topic courses. He learns you have been in the city for five years, and you were at the Drag Show with some of your Art Department colleagues. When he realizes you're waiting for him to share the same details about himself, you see the glimmer of something that looks like shame in his eyes. 

"Well, I just kind of moved here. It's… it's going. Not exactly where I thought I'd be with my life so .."

"Steve, it's okay you don't have to be doing big things to be a good guy. You know that right?" You say, hand on his forearm in an attempt to encourage him, but instead its setting off electrical charges he can't ignore. 

"Yeah, I mean… well I was at the Drag Show because one of our customers was the Emcee and invited us. She.. uh, bought her whip from the store my roommate and I work at. It's not a long term thing - God at least I hope it's not - shit. But.. yeah it's what I'm doing anyway so… " he trails off and shrugs. Praying to God you don't think he's some kind of loser. 

And if you do, you don't show it. You don't press and you let him say just as much as he wants. The rest of the car ride is friendly and Steve has coaxed at least three fits of giggles out of you. He makes a mental note that he's done more in the 15 minute cab ride than he is sure your stupid date did all meal. 

As you reached your destination, you paid the cab fare with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the help and the company. You sure turned my date night around. I was so excited for dessert but that guy was so awful I needed to get away as quickly as possible. So I guess this cab ride was my sweet treat. " you said.

Steve nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "No problem at all. Hey, I know a thing or two about ice cream. If you're still in the mood for that dessert?"

You chuckled, the offer catching you by surprise. "Ice cream actually sounds pretty tempting right about now. Might be just what I need to soothe the sting of another bad first date."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't give a shit if you're a feminist, I still won't make a pretty girl pay for it. That's just stupidity."

The two of you walked into a nearby ice cream parlor, the neon lights creating a warm glow on your skin. As you shared stories over scoops of your favorite flavors, time seemed to slip away. You spent loads of time hearing about Robin and their awful job history, and spent some more dissecting each other's musical tastes, promising the boy that you had more albums up your sleeve that you think he'd be into, too. 

After the drag show and the unexpected chance meeting at the restaurant, hanging out with you felt like a natural progression. As you finished your ice cream, Steve looked at you with a grin. "So, now that we've established our mutual fear of bad first dates and love for ice cream, how about we make hanging out a more intentional thing? See if we have even more in common?"

You chuckled, a sparkle in your eyes. "I think I can get behind that idea." 

Coming up the elevator just a few minutes later, Steve was feeling lighter than air. He paid no mind to the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in the hallways or the predictable shouting from the neighbors place as he approached his front door. Jangling his keychain to get his key loose from the mess he notices that his Tamagotchi is… gone. It's the first one he's lost prematurely since Robin got the stupid things and he rolls his eyes knowing she's going to eat this up when he tells her in the morning. 

Walking into the foyer he notices Robin's shoes and keys on the hook, signaling that she and Alex must be tucked away in her room by now. He honestly doesn't want to hang out with them anyway. He shuffles down the hallway, running his finger along the wall lazily before slipping into his own bedroom. Closing the door behind him and pressing his body up against it, his mind drifts right back to how you looked in the back of that cab. 

God, how could one person he's run into a total of three times be wrapping themselves into his conciseness like a vine. Is this the thing Murray was talking about? The whole woman thing? Because you were not like any of the girls he has been taking to the coffee shop and never seeing again. Not like any of the girls who fawned over his megawatt smile and pulled their panties to the side just for the bragging rights. Not like any of the city girls who take take take at the club only to stumble their way home on their friends arms instead at the end of the night.

The thought intimidated the shit out of him. He could make a list as long as his bedsheets why someone like you shouldn't waste their time on Steve Harrington. Far from a King, yet you still made him feel worth your time. Maybe it was all for show, the guy you conned into paying the cab fare too distracted to notice. And you didn't have to try that hard. He was distracted, that's for sure. 

At first it was seeing your eyes up close. Bright and sparkling, eyelashes batting with just enough makeup to make you look more beautiful, not to make you beautiful. To make the color of your eyes pop. That was nice, but when you touched his forearm in the back of the cab, your skin soft and smelling of lavender and cedarwood, you filled his senses and made him twitch. And then when you leaned over the table in the ice cream shop to offer him a taste of your peanut butter swirl ice cream, the neckline in your silk top dipped low and showed off just a shadow of what you were hiding under there and he felt his heels tap on the floor to get his mind on something else. 

All those distractions were flooding Steve's senses right now, hitting him all at once. He moved away from the doorway and over towards his record player - slipping the only stupid album he wants to play right now out of its sleeve and onto the turntable. Lowering the needle, as the static breaks the air and the first bars of "Ocean" break the silence, he sighs. Leaning over his dresser he looks up at himself in the reflection of his mirror. Murray was fuckin' right. He thinks. He did need to stop being what girls want. He wants to be what you want. What a woman like you even deserves. 

Before Steve even knows it the black of his denim is pulled taught over his crotch and he shakes his head "Ah fuck… I… I gotta… " he whispers out to no one in particular as he unhooks the buckle of his belt, button and zipper following quickly behind. Haphazardly, he pulls the undershirt from where it's tucked in around his waist and frees himself, the throwing his head back to the melodies coming from his speakers, the heavy weight of his cock in his hand and thoughts of you running rampant through his mind. 

Fuck. He doesn't even know you. Barely. But he can't help but run his thumb across his slit all while thinking about that peek of collarbone you gifted him from across the table, whimpering as he gathers the bead of precum gathered there at his tip. Needing more, and fast, he has no time to rummage through his drawers or run down the hallway to the bathroom to find a bottle of sample lube he snagged from work. 

Still leaning over his dresser, arm braced over the top, Steve opens his other hand and brings it up, spitting a large glob into its palm before bringing it back down and around himself, throbbing and angry red with the thought of you. His cool palm finally moving, chasing a relief that he needs more than he knew, he finds himself gasping out your name - the one he learned just hours before - as if you gave him permission. 

It feels lewd. Like he's taking advantage of a woman that's too good for him. Even still, he can't help but close his eyes and imagine it's you burrowing between his thighs. Imagine what the wet of your soft mouth might feel like wrapped around him, or the skin of your palms working him up instead. Steve shivers as he thinks about it, thighs tensing underneath himself - the pleasure growing fast and twisting the knot in his stomach taught. 

It's only been a few minutes but he quickly sheds his button up and undershirt wiping up the sweat gathering on his chest, his neck, his forehead before throwing it to the ground at his feet. His fist is moving, but he's trying to pace himself, taking a slow breath in followed by a calculated exhale through his nose.

His eyes are squeezed shut and head thrown back, sweat dripping down the gullet of his neck, bared to a woman who isn't there to nip at it. Leave her marks. Christ, they would probably be hot. Bruises right next to red lipstick like the one you wore for your date tonight.

Body tensing, thighs tighten under him making his whole self drive against the dresser. He falls forward, forearm resting on the top of the furniture, forehead coming down to rest on his forearm, hand moving along his worked up cock at a feverish pace. Taking a moment to give himself a squeeze along his shaft, he relishes in the tightened grip, then circles his sensitive head before returning to his bruising pace. 

He's chasing that high, gasping out your name, labored breathing and moans Robin and Alex could certainly hear if they weren't up to their own bad deeds in the room next door. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck. Jesus, I wanna give it to you - shit." 

The warmth is bubbling over from his belly and down through the base of his dick, vein running up the underside pulsing along with his racing heartbeat. The warmth of more precome dribbles out of his tip, baiting him to keep going - not to let up. When his abs tighten this last time, he slaps the dresser in front of him as ropes of come spurt out, once, twice, three spurts covering his hand and dribbling down his crotch and onto his dark denim.

He hasn't come like that in forever. And all it took was a cab ride with you and imagining your mischievous, bright eyes when he came. Once he gathers himself, he glares into his own eyes through the mirror, running his clean hand through his hair as he still grasps his softening, dripping cock and says go himself "I can not fuck this up." 

Divider by @firefly-graphics

🏷️TAGLIST: @livsters @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist   @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @katie-tibo

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #robin buckley #sexshop!steve #sexshop!robin #platonic stobin #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley smut #steve and robin get a job #steve and robin 4l #steve and robin fanfic

[yourlocalmerchgirl]

Congrats on 100 followers 🥳 Could i please request Rafael Barba with enemies to lovers/smut? Maybe reader is a detective and they’re constantly butting heads over cases and they’re forced to work together on his office on a case to sort it out and things progress from there 😏

Anon! Thank you so much for this task! It was so nice to write someone thing for Barba again 🫶 I’m so sorry that it took me awhile to get this to you! I started one but didn’t like how it was coming out so I started over and came up with this. It’s a little different than you asked for it’s more lovers-enemies-lovers with smut and a healthy does of everyone’s favorite bestie Carisi! I really hope your enjoying it. If not I can try to write something else for you!

Warning: MDNI 18+ NSFW

Fighting, mentions of alcohol. Undefined age gap. Mentions of therapy. Reconnecting. Strong language. Unprotected P in v. Pet names

You were getting ready to go out, so excited to see your old friends. One of your best friends bands was touring and they were playing in the city tonight. You hadn’t seen any of them since the last time they came through and they called to ask if you’d come out and run their merch table for the night. Rafael wasn’t super happy about you going. With the types of cases he dealt with every day he always worried about you when you went out without him. You didn’t go out often like this unless you had friends coming through to visit.

“What’s the plan again?” he said for piece of mind.

“I’m walking to the venue now while it’s light out to meet up with everyone for a pre show dinner. Then Carisi is going to pick me up after since it’s right near the station and bring me home. If he doesn’t the band will bring me home or I’ll just walk to the station”

“You know I can come pick you up?”

“I know, I asked Carisi because I know you’ve been working so late and are stressed with work, so I’m just trying to let you rest”

“I’m not going to get any rest worrying about you”

“Rafa, I’m going to be fine. This isn’t my first time on earth” you giggled

“I’ve gotta get going to dinner, I love you!” You said as you stopped to give him a big hug and a kiss.

—————-time lapse————

The show had just started and you were all set up at the merch table.

9:30 Carisi: Hey, it’s been a quiet night so I’m out now. You want some company or I can come back later for you.

9:31 (Y/N): yea! Come check out the show, I think you’ll like it. You can help me sell merch!

9:32 (Y/N): I put your name on the guest list. So just give the door guy your name and they’ll let you in.

About 15 minutes later Sonny shows up, a couple drinks in hand. “This is awesome! Are these your friends?” He said excitedly. “I got you a drink if you’d like one”

“Sure, Thank you! My friends are up next”

You didn’t drink much but you, Rafael and Sonny went out for drinks sometimes so he knew what you drank.

Your friends band takes the stage and you guys are having a blast. After they played Carisi bought a round of drinks for the band and the two of you. You were so excited to see him having such a good time and you were excited to have people from both of your worlds together.

You guys were all hanging out around the merch table with the band and this guy comes up and starts talking to you.

“Are you here with anyone? Can I buy you a drink?”

With out thinking you reach for Carisi’s hand, who’s standing behind you. When you do he turns around and puts his arm around you while your still holding his other hand.

“Sorry I’m here with my boyfriend” you said

Carisi pips up with a “beat it pal she’s taken.”

The guy apologizes and walks away. Your thanking Carisi for going along with it when your hear someone yell “what the fuck is going on here” You turn around to see Rafael. “Why is your arm around her?!” He yelled.

“Rafael it’s not what you think, please don’t yell.” You said. You could feel your face turning beat red. Everyone was staring at what was going on.

“Well it certainly looks like you two have something going on behind my back”

“W-what? Rafa do you hear….”

“Get your stuff we’re leaving” he said cutting you off.

The car ride home was silent, neither of you said a word. You just sat there looking out the window not even looking at him. He barely put the car in park before you got out and headed inside to the elevator. He caught up to you while you were waiting for the elevator.

“So your not just not going to say anything?”

“I’m not doing this right now. I’m not going to get into a screaming match with you in the common areas of our building. It’s late, I’m not going to ruin anyone else’s night with this.”

Once inside our apartment he started in again. “So how long have you and Sonny had this thing going on?”

“There’s nothing going on with Sonny”

“Your really going to stand here and tell me that holding hands all cozy with my best friend is nothing?”

“It’s late and I’ve been drinking. I don’t really want to get into a screaming match with you over nothing right now. This guy was bothering me so I told him Sonny was my boyfriend. That’s literally all it is.”

“You expect me to believe that” he sneered

“Jesus Christ Rafa! I’m not fucking Sonny and Sonny is not fucking me! I was just trying to keep myself safe from someone who was bothering me, if you refuse to stop and think about things rationally and listen to me then that’s not my fucking problem.”

“If that’s true, then why the fuck was he there already? I though he was just giving you a ride home” he shouted with so much anger in his voice. The tone of his voice made your eyes well up with tears.

“He texted me part way threw and said it was a slow night, he was out early so he came to the show.

He just stared at you, like he didn’t believe you.

“I don’t know what you want me to fucking say Rafael if you don’t believe me ask Liv. We all know you love talking to her anyways.” You regretted it as soon as it left your lips. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way.

“Don’t ever fucking say that again he shouted before smashing the glass of scotch he had in his hand against the wall.

Compete shock rushed over your face. He had never done anything like that before.

He looked over at you to see you start trembling. You could feel your chest start to feel tight as a rush of dizziness followed right behind it. You knew you were having a panic attack.

“C-Cariño are you ok? I…I don’t know what came over me” his voice cracked.

You couldn’t get any words out, you just sat there trembling with you head in your hands trying to breath normal.

“Are you having a panic attack, let me help you Cariño”

Your head sprang up fast when you heard his foot steps getting closer to you.

“Don’t fucking come near me Rafa” you said putting your hand out to stop him.

He stopped dead in his tracks his eyes filled with tears and regret.

“I need to lay down, this is all to much for me right now, I need to relax so I can get this panic attack to subside.”

“Let’s go to bed” he said reaching out his hand for you.

“I…I’m more comfortable staying out here”

You curled up on the couch and stayed there until he finally shut off the lights and went to bed. You knew he would never be physical with you but the whole situation really shook you up. His wanting to protect you from the world was turning into jealously and it was escalating.

1:10am (Y/n): I’m really sorry about the situation tonight. I didn’t want any of that to happen. I was just trying to be safe.

1:11am Carisi: I’m very sorry too. I’ve never seen him like that before. Are you ok?

1:12 (Y/N): I’m really shook up, we got into a really bad argument once we got home. I really don’t think I can stay here right now. Do you think your brother in law would let you borrow his truck?

1:13 (Y/N): I don’t know where I’m going to go but Rafa and I need sometime apart.

1:15 Carisi: Stay here, you’ll have our own space and all the time you need to figure things out. I insist, I want you to be safe and feel safe. Can I ask did something happen? Did he hurt you? I’ll come there now.

1:15 (Y/N) I can’t do that to you, he already doesn’t believe that nothing was going on he might never speak to you again if I move in there. I don’t want to do that to you. No he didn’t hurt me.

1:16 Carisi: I’m not just his friend. Your my best friend as well. Your like my little sister and to me this is part of the promise I made him a long time ago that if he wasn’t around for any reason I’d do everything in my power to keep you safe.

As you wake up to a knocking on the door, you realize you must of finally let your body fall sleep. As you walk towards the door you hoped it wasn’t one of the neighbors that heard the fight last night. You didn’t even notice what time it was. You were still wearing last night clothes. You must of fallen a sleep in them. You catch your reflection in the mirror in the hallway. Your eyes were puffy and red from crying. You don’t bother checking the peep hole to see who it was. You open the door slowly to see Carisi standing there. “Shit shit shit is it already that time” you though to yourself. You hadn’t gotten any of your stuff ready. Looking down at your feet “I’m really sorry I have nothing ready yet, I woke up to you knocking on the door. I must of finally fallen asleep and not woken up when Rafael was getting ready for work.”

“It ok, I brought some boxes for you, I thought you might need some I don’t mind helping you”

You go into the bedroom and start packing up your clothes and personal items out of the bathroom while Carisi packed up your stuff from the rest of the house. Most stuff was Rafael’s or your stuff together so you didn’t have a ton of just your own stuff. The two of you finished packing and got the truck loaded up. “Go ahead down and I’ll be down in a minute, I want to leave a note for Rafa.”

Rafael,

I think it’s best for us to take a break and for me to not live here right now. I’m truly sorry for what was said on my part to upset you. You are my world but I need to figure out what’s best for me.

♥️ Cariño

The car ride to Carisi’s place was quiet. You were just so mentally and physically exhausted, your heart hurt and you really just didn’t know what to say.

You guys got everything all moved into the your new room, it would just take time to get settled. Carisi had gone out before he picked you up and bought you a bed so that would have one.

You were eating dinner in your room with the door shut. Not because you didn’t want to eat with Sonny but because you were trying to decompress from the last couple of days and just zone out without having to talk. You also didn’t want Sonny to see that you weren’t very hungry because you didn’t want him to worry.

You start To doze off when you hear Rafael’s voice talking to Sonny.

“Do you know where (Y/N) is? She moved her stuff out but I don’t know where she went.”

“She…she is here, but I’m not really sure if she wants to talk to you right now”

“What do you mean?”

“I should of known she was here, where is she? Is she in your bedroom?”

You here foot steps start to move around.

You open your door and step into the doorway.

“It’s ok Sonny I’ll talk to him….as you can see I’m here in my own room. Not in Sonny’s room because once again we’re not together.” You say with complete exhaustion in your voice.

Sonny goes into is room shutting the door to give you privacy but knowing he would come right out if things got heated.

“I got the note you left” he said talking it out of the pocket of his dress pants.

“If your not messing around with Carisi then why did you move in here?”

“Because I needed somewhere safe to live while I figure out what to do.”

Cutting him off as he started to speak.

“And before you start. I’m not saying it’s not safe at home. I’m saying we need some time apart to work on ourselves before we think about getting back together.”

“I-I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why you needed to move out and move in here if nothings going on. We can work things out.”

“If you don’t understand why you smashing a glass against the wall in our kitchen wouldn’t absolutely terrify for me, then I just don’t know what else to say to you. I shouldn’t of made the comment I did about Olivia. I admit that and I’m sorry that I said it, I regretted it the second that I did. But the anger in you voice and in your eyes that night when you threw that glass was scary. I’ve never seen that in you before. You got so heated about a situation you wouldn’t even let me explain to you. So I felt it was best to leave for a while. I love you so much Rafa, but the way our relationship has been functioning for a while now isn’t healthy for either one of us. We both need to work on ourselves if this is going to work. You need to work on not treating everyone in your life like there a victim from one of your cases. You need to trust people more and not work yourself to death constantly. That night I did something I’ve been doing since I first started going out to concerts with my friends, which was tell any guy that was being creepy or making me nervous that I was dating which ever guy friend I was there with so that they would back off or leave me alone. It’s simply something I’ve done to keep myself safe over the years.” By this point tears are streaming down your face. Sonny must hear you crying because he comes out of his room.

“It’s ok (Y/N) go into your room I’ll check on you when he leaves” he says softly before turning to Rafael.

“Think you should go Barba, the last few days have been a lot for the both of you.”

“I-I fucked up so bad Carisi”

“If she needs time and space then give her time and space. It’s apparent to anyone who sees you guys that you two are madly in love. You just need some time apart to work on yourselves and if meant to be, you guys will find yourselves back to each other. Until then I will keep my promise to you and keep her safe anyway I can and make sure she has what she needs.”

t felt good to be back home in Manhattan, you had been back and getting settled in for a week. You had been in (state or country) helping Casey after the birth of her baby and loss of her husband for the last nine months. But you came back when her mom was able to move out there with her. It’s was a nice cool fall day, your birthday was in a couple of days so you decided to go to your favorite coffee shop, grab a drink and wonder around. When you walked in your favorite baristas we’re excited to see you. “(Y/N) your back! Would you like your usual?!” One shouted. You pay and move to the pick up counter to wait for your order.

“Here’s your order (Y/N)” “Thank you, I can’t believe you guys remember my order” you say smiling from ear to ear.

As your putting your straw in your drink you hear a voice from behind you.

“Cariño is that you?”

You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“Rafa!” You exclaim as you turn around with a smile, and without thinking you put arms open to give a hug.

He squeezes you tighter than he ever had before. The biggest smile across his face.

“I’m surprised to see you here” you say.

He blushes a little “ well I started coming here after you left to work on cases…it reminded me of you. I-I didn’t know you were back”

“ I’ve only been back for a week” you reply.

“Would you want to take our coffees and go for a walk around Central Park? I hear the trees are beautiful right now.” He asks nervously rubbing the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous.

You grab your stuff turn back around and reply “I would love that” unable to control your smile.

You underestimated how happy you would be to see him, to hear his voice.

“Ok, I’ll grab my stuff and we can go!”the smile never leaving his face.

“Shall we” he says holding his out hand to motion leaving.

“We shall”

He held the door open for you as you guys made your way to the park.

You two wonder around the park chatting. You start fawning over the colors of all the leaves.

He lets out a chuckle with a warm smile.

“What?” You reply chuckling yourself.

“You’re so cute when you get excited about something that you love. It always makes me happy seeing you so happy and filled with excitement about something.”

You blush not really sure what to say. You manage to softly say “Thank you” as you try to stop from completely turning red.

“I always loved our fall trips upstate to go to all the farm stands around your birthday, so we could get all the fall treats”

Him saying fall treats remind you that you have a apple hand pie still from the coffee shop in you purse.

“Well speaking of fall treats” you say pulling the hand pie out of your purse. You both bust out laughing about it.

“Want half?” You say as you break it is half.

“Your so damn funny” he says as he takes the half.

“What can I say I like to make people laugh.” You say teasing.

“Want to go sit by the water and watch the ducks?” You suggest

“Sure, I’d love too” he reply’s

You two find a bench to sit at away from everyone else.

“We’re you back home staying with family when you were away?”

“Oh Sonny didn’t tell you? I thought for sure he was telling everyone”

“No I didn’t ask him anything other than how you were, I didn’t want him to feel any pressure”

“No I was in (state or country) staying with Casey”

“I was out there helping her out with her new baby”

“Did her husband recover from his accident?”

“I can’t believe you remembered about his accident”

“No…no he didn’t….he passed a couple weeks after I-I…after I moved out” you said looking down at ground. It made you sad thinking about both events. Not wanting to be reminded of either. Tears started to slowly fall from your cheeks. You try to turn away so that he doesn’t see you, but he does. He reached his hand over gently whipping the tears from your face. You lean into his hand a little, you missed everything about him. He slides closer to you on the bench putting his hand on your thigh, hoping you meant to lean into his hand. You leaned your head down onto his shoulder. You both let out a comforting sigh at the same time. You lift

you head up to look at him.

“Cariño I am so sorry for everything that happened. I regret the the moment I ever started treating you like that. But most of all I regret the night I smashed that glass and scared you. I’ve thought about that moment and the look in your eyes since the day you left. I fucked up, I know I did, I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’ve been working on myself to change for the better. After the way we left things with our final conversation, it made me realize how jaded work and all the cases were making me. I realized I truly was treating everyone in my life like victims in my cases. I was running myself ragged, not taking care of myself properly which made me on edge and angry all the time. I’ve started going to therapy every other week, a couple days a week I don’t work as late and if I am going to work late I’ve been trying to bring it home with me more or go the coffee shop instead of just going to the bar and doing it. Which in turn has made me cut back on drinking. I’ve missed you terribly (Y/n)”

“Oh Rafa I’ve missed you terribly too” you say reaching up to cup his face in your hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“I’ve been really hard to work on myself too. I also started going therapy while I was out there. I found a therapist from here that would do virtual session so that when I came back I could still go. I’ve been focusing on trying not to hold things in until I snap and everything comes out wrong. It’s a work in progress but I’m trying hard. Some of the things I’ve said to you or the way I acted wasn’t fair and for that I’ll always feel guilty for.”

He puts his arm around you and pulls you close to him squeezing you tightly.

He puts his head in the crook of your neck, you could feel his warm breath lightly on your neck. You two stay like that for a few minutes melting into each others arms.

Your phone rings and you step aside to answer it. He hears you say, “I’ll be home for dinner, why are you being so weird” before saying bye see you soon as you hang up.

You walk back over to the bench and sit down.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You turn to him quickly while scrunching your face up at him.

“No you loser, it was just Carisi.” You say teasing. Followed by “I haven’t been seeing anyone” in a softer tone.”

The look of relief washed over his face.

“Me either” he said softly.

“Did you get invited to dinner at Sonny’s tonight by chance?”

“I did…” a puzzled look on his face.

“He’s up to something he’s been weird all week since I got back…I think he’s planning something for my birthday”

“ Yea I was under the impression that we were video chatting with you for you birthday”

“Who’s we?” You ask inquisitively.

He shrugs knowing he probably said to much but he was also equally confused.

4:15 Carisi: When you get here will you come in and get her to wait a a few minutes and then have her come in? It throws the plan all off you guys seeing each other lol. Everyone else doesn’t know she will be here and she doesn’t know everyone will be here it’s a surprise for her but there’s also a surprise for everyone.

4:25 Barba: she knows somethings up but sure I’ll get her to do that. Sorry, weren’t expecting to run into each other. But I have to say it’s so nice to see her.

He stands up from the bench, and holds out his hand. “Shall we? I’ll walk with you” he says, not wanting to be apart from you. He wanted to hold on to the feeling of being in your company again for the first time all over again.

You look up at him with a smile, the sun lit his face up perfectly. “I’d love that.” You say as you take his hand and stand to meet him. He quickly laces his fingers with yours causing you two to hold hands. You didn’t even flinch, it just felt right. You guys just strolling through the city holding hands making your way back to Carisi’s apartment. It felt as though time stopped and you two were the only people on the planet.

“Ok so Carisi wants me to go in, have you wait 10 minutes and then you come in. Don’t ask me why.”

“Hahaha ok”

So he goes inside, you hang out in the lobby of the building for 10 minutes then head up to the apartment.

You unlock the door and slowly open it to a dark apartment. You turn around shut the door and take your shoes off. As you turn back around all the lights flick on and everyone jumps out and shouts “Happy Birthday (Y/N)!!” Even though you knew something was going on, your completely surprised by the party. “Amanda, Liv, Finn, Rafa I can’t believe your all here!” You say starting to cry from pure joy, it had been so long since you had seen your friends. “Dodds and some of the rookies took over for the night so we could all come, we wouldn’t miss it for the world, we’ve all missed you.” Liv said but everyone echoed the same sentiment. Your excitedly catching up with everyone when there’s a knock at the door.

“(Y/N) you should answer the door.” Carisi says a smirk on his face.

“I swear to god Sonny, if this is going to embarrass be in front of everyone I’m gonna kill you!”

You open the door cautiously, knowing it could be one of those famous Sonny pranks. You’re completely shocked when you open the door.

“Oh my god, Nick!” You shout In excitement.

You hear everyone behind you “What?! Amaro’s here?”

Carisi shouts “Surprise everyone!”

“I can’t believe your here!” you say before he gives you the biggest hug.

“Well Carisi said you could use some cheering up, so I thought it was about time I made a visit back to visit everyone” he said happy to see all his old friends again.

You were as close to Nick as you are with Sonny, after all he’s the reason you have all these amazing people in your life. He’s the reason you met Rafael and ended up with him. You met Nick through a friend you made when you first moved to New York, she was dating one of his friends at the time and the 4 of you guys would get together sometimes. You and him hit it off quick and became fast friends. Nicks wife was in the army and overseas for a couple years and you were new to the city and didn’t really have many other friends, so you guys would hang out often on his days off to offset each other’s loneliness. One night when your best friend from home was in town visiting you, you ran into Nick out with the squad celebrating the end to a case with a drink. That was the night I met Rafael for the first time.

After taking a trip down memory lane in your mind you snap back to reality. You motion everyone to come in for a big group hug, you start tearing up as everyone is hugging each other. Amanda noticing your crying. “(Y/N) is everything alright?

“I’m fine, all of you guys are all the most amazing friends a girl to ask for. I’m so lucky to have all of you guys in myself. This is truly the best birthday ever. “

Everyone gathered around the table for a incredible Italian feast. Sonny cooked all your favorite Italian dishes. You had a couple drinks and just sat there taking in how good it felt to be surrounded by your friends again. Dinner wrapped up and everyone had cake and sang happy birthday. Liv and Amanda said there goodbyes as they had to go in and take over for Dodds. Sonny, Finn, Rafael and Nick set up to play a few games of cards.

You hang out with the guys for a little while while they were playing poker.

You stretch and yawn. “Well enjoy your poker and beers boys, I’m gonna go lay down and watch tv”

“You really outdid yourself Sonny, thank you so much for making this happen.” You say as you thank everyone for coming and say your good nights.

You put on your comfy shorts and top and curling up in bed, putting on one of your favorite comfort shows. You’re dozing off when you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you tilt you head up and sleepily say “come in.”

You watch the door open and see that it’s Rafael.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” he says rubbing the back of his neck.

“No it’s ok, I was just comfortable” you say shyly.

You pull the blankets back a little.

“Rafa, Will you lay with me and watch a movie?”

His face lights up. “Id love too Cariño”

Fin, Nick and Sonny watch him go into your room and shut the door.

“Saying goodbye my ass, those two are defiantly getting back together” Fin jokes.

“Is it ok if I get more comfortable and just wear my undershirt and my suite pants?”

“Of course it it is” you say moving over in the bed to make room for.

He climbs in the bed, gets comfortable and then puts his arm around you rubbing your back with his hand.

You slide down laying on your side and nestle you head on his chest with your arm around his stomach.

You tilt your head “is this ok? I can move if it’s not” You ask with nervousness in your voice.

“No this is ok, I-I missed this” he says kissing your forehead and pulling you in tighter.

You hand the remote to him “you want to pick the movie?”

He puts on one of your favorite movies you two like to watch together.

In this moment your so relaxed, the feeling of him softly rubbing his hand up and down your back and the smell of his cologne put you at ease. You missed everything about him. You dozed off for a couple minutes but you were awoken by him playing with your hair. You tilted your head back to look at him, giving him a cute sleepy smile.

“Your getting tired Cariño, should I go?”

“No it’s ok, don’t go” you barely got the words out of your mouth before he leaned down and kissed you passionately. You sat up, putting your hand behind his head kissing him back. He licked your bottom lip for entrance, which you granted him. Your tongues dance together, your whole body burned. His touch sent shivers down your spine, making you instantly wetter than you’ve been. He moved to kissing down your neck and along your collar bone. You let out a breathy moan in his ear, as you do he pulls you on top of him. You sit up straddling him, you can feel his rock hard cock underneath you. As you take your top off he runs his hands all over your body, exploring every inch of it. He sits up too, kissing down your neck and the top of your breasts as he reaches around you to unhook your bra. He slids it off your shoulders and down your arms before throwing it on the floor. He kisses all over your breasts before making his way to you nipples, licking, bitting and sucking on them. Your body is on fire and your panties are completely soaked, you needed his body.

You step down off the bed onto the floor. You motion for him to stand too, getting down on your knees when he does. You undo his pants and pull them down, taking out his rock hard cock. You tease him at first running your tongue all around his tip. He lets out a deep breathy “fuck” as you take the the rest of him in your mouth, he runs his hands through your hair, leaving his hand on the back of your head. Your sucking gets stronger as as your motion gets quicker, occasionally pulling back to just the tip to tease him.

You stand up and turn your back to him, bending over in front of him. Pulling down your shorts and panties giving him a show.

“You’re so fucking sexy” he says in a deep voice as he comes up behind you spanking you hard and grabbing a hand full of your ass.

You stand up and when you do he wraps his arms around you from behind pulling you up against him, his hard cock pressed against your ass. He starts rubbing your clit, you throw your head back moaning as he starts kissing your neck at the same time. “Fuck me Rafa, I can’t take it any longer” you moan out already ready to climax, your body burning from head to toe. He bends you over the side of the bed. Running his hands down your back and spanking you hard when he gets to your ass. You moan out in a long breathy moan, enjoying every second of it.

“Spread your legs for me” he says in his deep voice as he’s rubbing your ass. He teases you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, before sliding inside of you. He grabs your hips as he pulls in and out of you, pushing deeper with every thrust.

“Mmm Rafa, I’m so close” you moan out.

“cum for me baby” he reply’s as he spanks your ass. His thrusts get faster as he reaches around you and starts rubbing you’re clit as he’s thrusting fast.

You push your self up with your arms arching your back. You start to feel your self release as you start to climax.

“Fuck Rafa, don’t stop I’m so close.” You scream as you moan out. As your muscles tighten and you climax all over his cock.

He moans thrusting all the way in before he pulls out, cumming all over your ass. It was something he liked to do, but he also did it because he didn’t know where you two stood and he didn’t know if you would want him to cum inside you. You slowly stand up trying to catch youre breath. He hugs you from behind kissing your shoulder and whispering, “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve really missed you too” you whisper back before you both climb back into bed.

“Come home, Cariño”

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #law and order svu #raul esparza #sonny carisi #anon ask #fanfic #fanfic wip