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#I very quickly shut him up with “it IS.”
anakinsdove · 2 days
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Sub sam monroe x fem friends hot older sister ❔
𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞
pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader
summary: it’s been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he’s still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn’t there before.
c/w: nsfw, loser Sammy, blowjob
discord - twitter: anakinsdove
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰 - 1,352
“What’s that for?” You ask your little rat of a brother why he’s suddenly carrying enough snacks to throw a party.
“Sam is coming over, he’s going to spend the night here” Your brother says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Who?” “Sam” he rolls his eyes “Oh! Sammy, blonde, walks weird?” “Yes…” he’s slightly confused at your description then he realizes you haven’t seen Sam in a while…. A long while?
“He dyed his hair” your brother ads “Seriously?” You say sarcastically clearly faking interest trying to find something worth watching on tv “And he walks normally” “I’m sure he does”
“Anyways aren’t you a little bit too old for sleepovers?” Your condescending tone is very annoying to your brother but that’s what sisters do. “Aren’t you too old for Halloween?” “Huh?” Your brother smirks pointing at your makeup, you respond by throwing the pillow on the couch with enough force it feels like a brick, he runs upstairs
“coward” you mutter to yourself and suddenly someone’s knocking on the door
Someone’s knocking extremely loud
You decide to ignore it as you keep painting your nails but the knocking is very persistent and it gets louder somehow accidentally painting your toe “fucking loser” you curse under your breathe and stand up walking furiously towards the door.
“What!?” Your tone is harsh and the boy takes a step back, Sam looks stupid as he makes sure he’s in the right house “I-is James here?”
“Sam?” You ask softly this time, your anger quickly dissipating from your features, eyeing him up and down… wow.
“Hi Y/N”
You open the door for him to come in as he awkwardly goes through the door, he tries to keep his hips as far he can from yours while walking in, you sigh at the awkward silence
“How have you been-“ “You look very different-“ both of you say at the same time “You look the same” he says “I looks twelve?” God you’re making fun of him
Hes about to answer when your brother comes down running from the stairs “Sorry dude I was taking a shit!” He greets him as you stand aside
“Don’t talk to her Sam” your brother says smirking “Shut up man” they run upstairs and you shrug trying to shake the awkwardness away
You keep trying to distract yourself with tv but it isn’t fucking working
Sam Monroe….
He looked so different from what you remembered, he’s taller, there’s a lot of piercings stuff on his face and you’re pretty sure he was wearing eyeshadow.. his hair now it’s black… funny because you remembered him being blonde and looking like a puppet, you giggle at the thought… Oh! and his clothes, he was wearing a Metallica t shirt, Vintage….
You moan and you realize you been rubbing your clit through your panties this whole time then gasping in embarrassment and closing your legs
What a slut… what if someone saw you rubbing your cloth on your living room, that would be a reason to kill yourself, what if Sam saw you like that?… that however doesn’t sound as bad
Control yourself Y/n
A few hours later the sun has set… you succeeded distracting yourself and as soon as Sam leaves you won’t have to see him again you’ll forget this awkward chapter in your life where you masturbated to the thought of your younger brother’s friend until… “Why me man!?” “Cause I’m about to win this level” “Youre shit at the game” “Shut up!” you hear the boys arguing upstairs “It’s just fucking popcorn Sam” your brother mocks him as Sam sighs coming down the stairs
You can’t help but look up at him “Hey” Sam stops midway “Hey” he tries to sound and look relaxed, but when did your boobs get so big?
“Pop corn?” You asks pointing at the box he’s holding in his hand “I’ll burn them” he says
“It’ll be my brothers fault” you laugh and Sam smiles “C’mon” you guide him to the kitchen and put the popcorn in the stove “You look very different too” he responds to your earlier conversation, you smirk at the opportunity of teasing “Really? I thought I looked twelve” “Fuck no” he suppresses a laugh and you nod playfully “Well, maybe a little” “Fuck off” you push him playfully and his back makes contact with the counter “You still have your dimples when you smile” your heart actually softens at his comment “You don’t look like a puppet anymore” he rolled his eyes “I meant that in some ways you look the same but in other- other ways you look very different” he stares at you collarbone
“Sam?” You take a step forward “It’s mean to look at girls boobs when they’re talking” he freezes “I was not-“ you grab his bicep “I always knew you liked me” Sam is really about to die or kill himself, whatever is option is quicker… instead he grabs your waits and pulls you to him then freezes again “You want to kiss me Sammy?” His gaze switches from your eyes to your lips, to your boobs that look so good in that thank top, then your lips again, his lips hesitantly meet you in a clumsy kiss… but then you find out he’s so hungry for this, teeth clatter and he hums into your mouth, his hands shaking as he holds your waist…. You pull away teasingly as he tries to chase your lips but you have other plans like kissing his neck
“Fuck” he moans, his little sound has you clenching your thighs, you need this boy asap…as you nibble and suck his neck then pulling away again “Sam” “What?” He says breathlessly
“Can I suck you off?” WHAT THE FUCK he nodds shakily and you get on your knees “J-James?” Sam’s says as he watches you unbuckle his belt “Don’t talk about my fucking brother when I’m going to give you a blowjob” “Sorry..” “He’s playing, he wont find out.” You try to reassure this poor boy as he nods shakily “I promise” you unzip his pants and take his boxers down urgently, it’s too much, you hear the popcorn popping, heavy breathe, the waves crashing distantly… his cock slapped against his stomach… Sam looks down at you in awe
You start stroking him, watching the angry red tip leaking already, “w-wait wait I’m gonna c-cum” Sam warns virgins you think to yourself and force yourself to stop stroking him, if he’s gonna fucking cum he’s cumming down your throath tonight “fine” you say angrily and take him down your throat “Fuck!” Sam moans as his shaky hand tangles in your hair pushing you down further “I can’t I can’t I’m sorry” his eyes roll back and his back arches, your wet lips wrapping around his thick cock…. Sucking him sloppy it’s just so much
He doesn’t know why god is on his side tonight but he’s not complaining, he beats himself mentally, he seeing stars, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and all that cringy shit he once heard, now he knows it’s real, he feels your tongue massaging the underside of his cock and you make something with your tongue where it licks at his balls slightly and-
“Fuck!” He yells as he cums…. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throath, he tastes salty…
Your doe eyes look up at him seductively as you keep licking his tip, his legs tremble as he spasms, he has to push you away so he doesn’t pass out
You finally release his cock from your mouth “breathe Sammy….” “Fuck sorry I-“ his breathe is heavy “Shhh….” You kiss his lips softly so he tastes his own cum…..
“You’re sleeping here right?” He nodds
“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” he nodds again and you know this boy is completely at your mercy
“Oh and Sammy….. your popcorn” you point to the stove and evident smoke “Shit!” Sam runs and trips over his pants, pulling them up quickly and trying to not burn your damn house.
masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers - @i92-93
(Im very sorry for the absence! I been pretty much busy and a little unmotivated to write but I’ll try to post another fic this week, this was a little bit rushed but I hope you like it)
@anakinsbbgirl
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miley1442111 · 13 hours
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weird facts- s.reid
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a/n: intended for fem reader, but imagine what you like:)))))))))
summary: you finally meet spencer's friends after a very long time, it's just... they don't know about you
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: general cm topics, talk of murder, kissing, suggestive
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Spencer felt ill. You weren’t picking up any of his calls, weren’t answering any of his texts, and you hadn’t been seen for a whole 24 hours. According to your friend who was staying over at your house last night, you had gotten a call from work and it meant you had to travel, but it was meant to be within the country, so why weren’t you answering?
“Pretty boy?” Derek called from across the bullpen. “We’ve got a case.”
Spencer quickly followed Derek into the conference room, even if his mind was elsewhere. It sadly, was a mass-murder scheme that they only had a few hours to figure out. 
“Oh yes,” Hotch said under his breath. “We have some help, these are Agents Riley, O’Callahan, and Dr. Y/l/n. They all work with unsubs like these everyday and the doctor here has a lot of background from her time overseas. Please use their help and expertise,” he stated before getting up and ending the meeting. The office was buzzing with movement, but Spencer was too awe-stuck to see you in front of him to move, or really notice the rest of the world around him. It had been 5 months since you’d seen each other in person. Both of your jobs made it practically impossible to see each other more than a few times a year but neither of you minded, you loved each other. 
“Earth to Spencer Reid!” Derek shouted at him and finally broke him out of his trance. 
“Yes?!” He startled, ripping his eyes from your figure immediately. 
“Can we focus on the case please? Not the pretty doctor,” Derek shot you a wink and you rolled your eyes, still unaware of Spencer’s being there because of your engrossment in your files. 
“Yes, fine!” He hissed, beginning the geological profile. 
“Spencer?” You ask, shocked at his being there. 
“Hey honey-” He smiled sheepishly as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. The rest of your team and his all looked on, deeply confused. Spencer placed a soft kiss onto your cheek as you smiled. Spencer was over the moon, you were here. You were in his arms. 
“You two know each other?” Agent Riley said with a smirk on his face. “Is that the boyfriend?”
You pulled away despite wanting to hold on longer. You picked back up your casefiles with a contented smile. “Shut up Riley.”
Spencer’s face was red as Morgan, Prentiss, Jj, and Rossi all looked at him in shock. 
“My man,” Derek smirked, giving him a less than soft slap on the back. “Congratulations, how new is it?”
“It’s been 4 years, 77 days, 5 hours and,” He took a split-second to look at his watch. “And 47 minutes.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped more. 
“You’ve been dating him for 4 years?” Agent O’Callahan practically shouted. “We only heard about him for the first time last week!”
“Can’t anyone have privacy anymore,” You muttered, diving into yet another casefile. 
“I have to ask you everything about this-” Derek turned to you but you cut him off. 
“No, you have to build your profile,” You reminded him. “Ask me everything when we catch these fuckers.”
They didn’t need to be told twice.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sat in the crowded bar, Derek on your right and Spencer on your left, his hand holding your thigh under the table.
“So, he tells you all the weird facts he tells us too, right?” Derek laughed, entertained by your relationship. 
“Yeah,” you shrugged. “But I enjoy ‘weird’ facts.”
Derek nodded his head. “You two are seriously perfect for each other,” he smiled. You could feel Spencer squeezing your thigh, his hands getting sweater by the second. 
“He definitely spits out random facts during sex,” Derek said to the blonde woman next to him and Spencer awkwardly cleared his throat, knowing his own tendencies to not shut up, even in the bedroom. You laughed along with them, not actually giving them an answer. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walked home with Spencer’s hand in yours. You had successfully caught the unsubs, you had stopped the attack, and now you had time to spend with your brilliant boyfriend. 
“Your friends care about you a lot,” you said as you walked down the dark street. Spencer chuckled.
“They like you a lot,” he admitted. “Probably more than they like me.”
“Spencer, Derek looks at you like you’re his little brother, stop it. They’re just happy that you’re happy,” you smiled. “You are happy, right?” You asked, standing outside his apartment block. 
Spencer chuckled at your question, like he could be anything else. You were the kindest, smartest, and most incredible person he’d ever met. You cared and loved him so deeply. You were his everything.
“I’m more than happy,” he smiled before pressing a kiss to your lips.. His glasses slightly hit off your nose but neither of you minded, his hands began to explore as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, pulling him upstairs his apartment block, ready for another night of ‘weird facts’. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, obx+)
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usedtobecooler · 21 hours
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live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader
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a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.
summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.
warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.
Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.
Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket. 
The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.
"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it." 
He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.
He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"
"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.
He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar. 
You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself. 
Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying. 
"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?" 
Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"
"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"
Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart." 
Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life." 
Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying." 
"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"
"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"
You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."
Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."
You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"
Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."
You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."
Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.” 
“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.
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The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.
As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."
Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."
Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."
You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment. 
"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead." 
Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.
"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.
You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.
As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both. 
The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.
Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes. 
You were a goner already. 
As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"
"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."
Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.
The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.
Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."
"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink." 
Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."
Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.
You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."
Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"
You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."
"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?" 
You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical." 
Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet." 
At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone. 
You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?" 
Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame." 
You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?" 
Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?" 
Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me." 
Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.
"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"
"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.
As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.
His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.
Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.
Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.
"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.
You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."
Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."
The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer. 
You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt." 
Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey." 
Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."
Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"
You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.
Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?" 
You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"
Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"
He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along.  And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy. 
You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."
You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.
"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?" 
"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.
You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.  
"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.
You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.
The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.
He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.
Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.
Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?" 
Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment. 
Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.
Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.
"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."
You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop." 
Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head. 
"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours." 
If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.
And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option. 
You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."
Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."
You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.
You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.
Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over. 
Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink." 
It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh. 
There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.
"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?" 
"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.
Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.
"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes. 
He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.
"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.
"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though." 
Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand. 
Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.
"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?" 
You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."
Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"
You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."
It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?" 
You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..." 
You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing. 
Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story. 
And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair. 
He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body. 
His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.
Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth. 
It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.
He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.
"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"
“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”
His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.
Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.
Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving. 
“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”
Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?” 
You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.” 
Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties. 
“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”
“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away. 
“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words. 
The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. 
Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way. 
The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh. 
“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”
It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge. 
The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more. 
So you do. 
“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build. 
You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark. 
His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting. 
“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?” 
The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh. 
Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process. 
“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty. 
You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.
It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.
He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own. 
It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.
You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”
Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”
The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.
“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.
“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 
You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make. 
He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.
You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway. 
“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.” 
You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”
Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”
You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?” 
Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”
You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement. 
He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.
“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch. 
He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies. 
His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.
God. He was going to be a stretch.
Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks; 
“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”
Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly. 
“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.” 
You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.
He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit. 
Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.
It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.
“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”
Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”
“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”
The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?” 
You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below. 
“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat. 
He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”
You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.
“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed. 
A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day. 
Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.
“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?” 
You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.
It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you. 
Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips. 
“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!” 
You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.
It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips. 
There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath. 
“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.
He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.
You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.
“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”
Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”
“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.” 
You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”
“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…” 
“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you. 
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part 2?
337 notes · View notes
munsonsmixtapes · 3 days
Note
Helloooooo
I'm newer to your page ive been slowly reading your amazing stories.. are you still doing your prompt list stories?? I seen 3 that could work.. 40,42 and 43.. and it made me think or something possibly like this..
Eddie and (maybe plus sized) reader have been together for a while.. she sees a pretty girl/groupie flirting with him after the show (but she doesn't see him walking away from her or telling her that hes taken/not interested.. Reader just gets feral when they get home.. not realizing she's ovulating or something.. and just like gets her frustration out by begging Eddie to claim her fully or something..
sorry my brain has been all over the place.. I just can't get enough of him amd some stories have brought out some sides of me that i didnt know i had haha)
Hope that made sense.. I have a hard time getting what I have in my brain out.. which is why I don't write haha
Hello, lovely! Welcome! Thanks for the request!
Not proofread!
Eddie x fem!shy!plus size!reader
cw: MDNI 18+, smut (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), mention of pregnancy
Ever since you and Eddie had gotten together, he had made your relationship his entire personality. He would mention you every chance he got, letting everyone know that he was a taken man and that he was very lucky to have you. Whether it was in an interview, he talking about one of the many songs he had written about you, or introducing you to someone, it didn’t matter. He was so obsessed with you and had to let everyone know just how much he loved you.
Amongst his many nicknames for you, “my girl” was by far his favorite. He used it so often, so much love behind the words that it was clear to everyone that he was head over heels for you. He’d even go as far as singing the song to you while you made breakfast together, spinning you around the kitchen as the lyrics fell from his lips.
“This? Oh, my girl got it for me.”
“The next song is about my girl. I hope you enjoy it.”
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girl.”
You were his favorite topic of conversation to the point where it seemed that everyone knew that he was taken just by how much he brought you up in conversation, often unprompted. And anyone who didn’t know or did and flirted with him anyway, he would shut them down so quickly once he realized what was happening. He already had the best thing and wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining it.
You entered the concert venue as everyone was packing things up for the night. Corroded Coffin had just finished a show which you hadn’t been able to get to until after your shift at the bar down the street. You felt horrible for missing it even though Eddie had insisted that it was okay. He just appreciated that you were going to be there at all with your very busy schedule.
You were let in through the back doors and made your way down the hallway to find the all too familiar mop of hair. He was usually waiting right by the door for you, but he wasn’t there. You were starting to panic, but tried to calm yourself down, telling yourself that maybe he was in the bathroom or grabbing his belongings.
You looked all around the building until you spotted him outside his dressing room…talking to a girl. She was beautiful and she was making him laugh. She reached up and touched his hair and instead of stepping in like you knew you should have, you just turned on your heel to leave. You couldn’t watch another second.
What you hadn’t seen when you turned your back was Eddie removing the girls hand from his hair before dropping it. Now he understood what was happening. He took a step back from her until his back almost hit the door.
The thing about Eddie was that sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirted with. That was something that he still wasn’t used to after years in the industry because of the treatment he had received back home. He just thought they were being friendly until the touches came into play and that was always telltale sign. And then he’d let them down easy, not wanting to hurt their feelings, letting them know that his girl was waiting for him back home.
“Oh,” his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I have a girlfriend.” The girls face fell and she almost seemed disgusted by the fact that he was in a relationship.
“Oh,” she pouted. He always felt bad, letting the girls down, but he knew that one of his band mates would be happy to take them off his hands.
“But you know what? I heard that Gareth is looking for someone to take home, if you’re interested,” he winked and her face lit up again.
“Really?”
“Really,” Eddie nodded and opened the dressing room door where the other members of the band were hanging out. “Go get ‘em.”
The girl entered the room and Eddie let out a sigh of relief before turning to his left only to see you turning the corner. He didn’t know where you were going. You always waited for him so he didn’t understand why you were walking away.
He took off, racing after you so he could catch up. He almost tripped a few times, but he got to you, draping an arm over your shoulder as he fell into step with you.
“There’s my girl,” he let out a contented sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple. He tucked you into his side but couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t grabbing a hold of him like you usually did. You always had to be touching him so something was clearly off.
“Nothing to say, hm?” he asked, his lips still pressed to your skin. You weren’t usually talkative after work because you were usually overstimulated, but you would normally at last give him some sort of greeting.
Had he forgotten an important event? Maybe your birthday? No, that had already passed. Maybe your anniversary? No, that wasn’t until next month. Whatever it was, he definitely needed to apologize.
You and Eddie didn’t fight often, but when you did, it didn’t take very long for you both to make up. He was normally the first to apologize, hating to see the angry look on your face. He just wanted to make everything right so you could cuddle up in your bed. He just wanted you to be happy and hated when he was the one to be the cause of your unhappiness.
But he wanted to wait until you brought up what was bothering you. He never wanted to pry and hoped that you knew that he was willing to listen to whatever was going on in your head, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.
So, you spent the whole walk to his van and the whole ride home talking about your nights. He listened to you tell him about what happened at the bar and he told you how great the show went, not leaving out any detail.
It almost seemed like a normal night except for the obvious tension between the two of you. Neither one of you were going to be the first to bring it up, so it sat between you, like a jack in the box and you both were afraid to crank it first, not wanting to see the thing pop up.
Eddie rested his hand on your thigh like he normally did and even thought you were upset with him, you weren’t going to deny his affection. You loved the way his rough skin felt on yours and you felt like you needed him to show you just how much he wanted you.
You wanted him compliment you as he pounded into you, causing you to let out countless moans. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere. Your neck, your tits, your pussy. You just needed his head between your thighs so badly that you were getting wet just thinking about it.
Eddie pulled up to the house that you shared and was quick to help you out of the van, still keeping a hold of your hand as he opened the garage door. You pulled your hand out of his as soon as the door was open and headed inside.
He needed to beg if he wanted to get lucky. Not that it would take much for you to give in. You would have done anything he told you just by him flashing his million dollar smile, his dark brown eyes shining.
Eddie followed you into the house and up the stairs, noticing how loudly you were stomping as you took each step. He usually liked pissing you off just to get the reaction he liked, but never to this level. He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know what he had done.
You got to your shared room and slammed the door once you were inside. Eddie winced at the sound and decided that he finally had enough. He had to get to the bottom of the problem.
“Alright.” He opened the door, not even bothering to close it. He couldn’t go any longer without knowing why you were so pissed at him. “What’s on your mind?”
How could he not know? He was laughing with another girl then acted like it was nothing? Maybe he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Maybe what you had wasn’t as special as you had assumed. Maybe this was just the beginning of the end.
“Nothing, Eddie. Let’s just go to bed.” You really weren’t in the mood to start another fight with him.
“No, we’re gonna talk about this.” He put his hands on his hips. Wayne always told him to never go to bed angry and he intended on sticking to that advice.
“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Tell me, angel,” he stepped forward. “Please.”
“I saw you with her.” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out who you could have been talking about.
“With who?” He had no idea what you were referring to and just wanted you to come out and say it.
“The groupie outside your dressing room.” Oh. He had completely forgotten about her as soon as she entered the dressing room. He couldn’t believe you were jealous of her. You were always the only girl on his mind.
“You’re jealous,” he chuckled and you just scoffed. You couldn’t believe that he was laughing at your pain.
“So what if am?” He wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily, but he appreciated the honesty.
“There’s no need to be jealous, honey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the one I love, remember?”
He had always said the word so easily, so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling you the weather forecast.
“You love me.” You crossed your arms over your chest, needing a little more than that to be convinced.
“Of course I do.” He gave your shoulders another squeeze before sliding his hands down to yours, holding them.
“Prove it.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. You wanted proof, needed it in fact.
“What?” He let out a scoff at your words. It wasn’t like you to have so much confidence in your words. You were usually so shy and quiet, but he liked seeing this new side of you.
“Prove it,” you repeated and he just let out another chuckle.
“How am I supposed to do that?” He stopped laughing once he saw you weren’t joking. You meant what you said, but he was going to do whatever you asked. He just wanted you to not be upset with him anymore. He needed to see your pretty smile.
“Beg.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke and Eddie’s widened at how authoritative you had become. You were so hot like this.
“Beg?”
“Beg,” you removed one of your hands from his and pointed to the floor. “On your knees.” He didn’t know why he was finding your bossy behavior so hot, but his dick was definitely hardening.
Eddie lowered himself to the floor, your hands still in his. He looked up at you and you loved seeing him from that point of view. He looked so small unlike his usual tall stature.
“I love you so much, angel,” he said, bringing your hands up to his lips. “So so much. You’re my girl and I’d never even think about cheating on you. You have no reason to be jealous, I swear.”
He grabbed a hold of your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found their way into his hair, giving his scalp a scratch. You figured he had suffered enough, but just needed one more thing.
“I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me how you were feeling sooner so I could reassure you.”
“I know how you could reassure me.” You were trying to sound flirty, but weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Flirting was always Eddie’s thing.
“How?” He asked, pulling back to look up at you.
“I need you.” Eddie was quick to stand up, trying to understand what you mean.
“I’m right here, honey.” He pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. His hand rubbed your back in a comforting manner and normally, you would have taken that, but not tonight. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours. His cock inside you.
“No, Eddie. I need you.” Your eyes darkened again and he was finally catching on to what you were meaning.
“Oh,” he let out a laugh. “That was all you had to say.” He hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his two. He took no time to lick into your mouth while his hands reached for the bottom of your shirt. He pulled it up over your head and let it fall to the floor.
You unbuttoned his shirt and threw it behind you before attaching your lips to his, taking no time to plunge your tongue into his mouth. You backed him up to the bed and pushed him down onto it before straddling his waist.
“You’re so hot,” he breathed as your lips moved down to his neck, giving it a suck before moving back up to his mouth.
“You’re hotter.” Eddie quickly flipped you over so you were the one on the mattress and you let out a gasp at the sudden movement. He straddled your waist and pinned your wrists to the bed before going straight for your shoulder.
“No, baby. You’re the hottest. Your body is fucking killer.” Eddie loved your body. You weren’t skinny by any means, but that just gave him more love on. He loved pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could find, loving to give special attention to your stretch marks. He thought they were cute and that they made you unique.
“You think so?”
“I know so, honey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Want me to show you?” His face lit up as he said the words and it made you even more wet knowing that he was so happy to show you just how much he liked your body.
“Please,” you whined and he kissed his way down to your chest, pressing a kiss right in the center of it, right above the middle of your bra. “Take it off,” you commanded.
He pressed another kiss to the skin and moved his hands behind your back, unhooking it as slowly as he possibly could. He could hear your sighs of frustration and tried to hold back his chuckle. He very slowly undid each hook and removed the bra completely, letting it clatter to the floor beside the bed.
Eddie then pinned you back down to the mattress and looked down at you with a devilish grin. He was always such a fucking tease.
“You’re even hotter than I remember,” he complimented as he stared down at your tits.
“I got hotter just from last night?”
“Sure did. Now hush, honey. I’m about to do my best work.” He moved one of his hands to your nipple, massaging it with the pad of his thumb, just enough for to make it hard before he brought his mouth to it. He licked a stripe across it before giving it a suck.
“Oh,” you let out a moan and he took that as an invitation to bring it between his teeth giving it a little nibble. “Oh, Eddie.”
He did the exact same thing to the other nipple, eliciting more pretty sounds from you and he was eating it up. He loved that only he could get that reaction from you.
Eddie kissed his way down your stomach and stopped once he got to your waist. He pressed a featherlight peck to each of your stretch marks before looking up at you.
“Can I remove-“
“Yes,” you cut him off, getting desperate for him to get it over with.
“Needy,” he chuckled.
“And you’re a tease. I need your mouth on my clit.” You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you in one quick more before letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile behind him. He then reached for your underwear and slid them off before tossing them behind him. He lowered himself onto his knees then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he got a look at your pussy.
“Already wet for me, hm?” His fingers lightly grazed your cunt and you gave him that look that he knew all too well. You hated when he messed with you like this, but he did it just to see that angry look in your eyes. It never failed to make him hard. 
“I think we both know the answer to that.” Eddie liked you best when you were like that, all angry and bothered.
“Wow, doll,” his fingers stayed where they are, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing. Eddie liked it when you begged. “That just might be a record.” 
“Stop fucking around.” You usually liked the little games he liked to play, but not tonight.
“Someone’s eager,” he teased with a smirk and you were honestly on the verge of pleasuring yourself since he was taking too long. This was always how it went so you didn’t know why you ever expected anything different.  
“Of course I’m eager, I’m-” your words were cut off when Eddie thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Oh.”
“That’s right, doll.” His fingers pumped in and out, causing you to let out a moan. 
“Eddie,” you whined and he just smirked. 
“Say my name, honey.” He continued, thrusting them harder and faster as you let out another moan, grasping as the bedding underneath you, needing something to grab onto.
“Need your mouth, Eds,” you mewled and he removed his fingers before draping your legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before diving into your pussy and you let out a gasp. He licked a stripe from your slit to your clit before shoving it into your pussy, swirling it around as your hands dug further into the bedding.
You let out a loud moan and Eddie only buried his face further into your cunt, grazing the thing with his teeth and that drove you wild. You almost screamed at the sensation and Eddie did it once more to hear the sound again. Your thighs tightened at the feeling, causing them the press against the side of his head and he spread them, removing himself from your cunt.
You let out a whine at his absence and he ripped off his pants, desperate to be inside you. He moved to his bedside table and reached for his box of condoms, only to find that it was empty.
“I’m okay with it if you are,” you told him, seeing what the issue was. And you were okay with it. You suddenly liked the idea of feeling his bare cock inside of you.
“You’re sure? What about-“
“If I get pregnant, I get pregnant,” you shrugged. The two of you had talked about having a baby and even discussed trying, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He couldn’t have been more happy, though. He loved the idea of having a baby that was a product of the two of you making love to each other.
“You want to have a baby with me?” His face lit up. Sure, being a rockstar was cool, but he was convinced that being a father and husband were the roles he was convinced he was put on this earth for.
“I’d be honored to have a baby with you, Eds.” You didn’t know why he was asking since you had talked about it at length.
“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he smiled, ripping off his underwear. He lined himself up with your pussy and slowly slid his dick into you. You let out a small noise as the sensation. You never had unprotected sex before so it felt a little odd at first, but you had to admit that you liked the way it felt, that there was no barrier between his cock and your pussy.
Eddie slowly thrusted into you, wanting it to be nice and sweet for once. He wanted this to be a sweet moment between the two of you. Something you’d remember for the rest of your lives.
His hands gripped your hips as he pumped in and out, paying you compliment after compliment, showering you with the sweetest words as he thrusted inside you, assuring you of his love for you.
You let out moan after moan as he pumped into you and you grabbed onto him, pressing your face into his neck. His thrusted a little harder and your fingers dug into his back, but not enough to actually hurt him.
“Taking me so well, honey,” he said, pumping a little faster and harder. He was just testing the waters to see what you liked without the condom.
“Eddie,” was all you were able to say, your words getting slurred as your head leaned back.
“I know, princess,” he brushed some sweaty hair out of your face. “Got one more for me, hon?”
“One more,” you repeated. He gave a couple more thrusts, these ones harder and faster than before and you let out the most pretty moans he had ever heard come from your mouth. He hadn’t thought you’d liked it rough, but he supposed his was wrong.
He pulled out and lowered you to the mattress before cleaning you up and getting you some fresh pajamas from the drawer you had them tucked away in. He helped you change into them then got into his own before getting you both under the covers.
You turned over to face him and you wrapped your arms around each other, tangling your legs together as you did so. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at you, the love of his life. God, he was so fucking lucky.
“I love you,” he smiled, bringing one of his hands up to your face and you smiled as well.
“I love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips in response.
“You’re going to be a great mom.” His thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek and you closed your eyes, loving the way it felt. You could tell he meant the words, not only because he never said anything he didn’t mean, but also because of the way he looked when he said it, his eyes all soft and sweet.
“And you’re going to be a great dad.” He felt himself tearing up at your words and yours teared up too. He pulled you in for another kiss and the two of you drifted off to sleep, thinking of nothing but cribs and high chairs and the extra bedroom you had that would have made a perfect nursery. Maybe if things went right, you’d actually be parents.
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Text
fresh out the slammer // mattheo riddle x fem reader
playlist : fresh out the slammer - taylor swift
summary : after a 6 month relationship with the narcissistic cormac mclaggen youre finally free and ready to move on asap.
gryffindor reader , y/n used , swearing
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"fuck you mclaggen!" you screamed as you ran out of his dorm , having caught him snogging a random ravenclaw girl.
your anger was going wild as he chased you down the corridor , shouting pleas of forgivness. but you couldnt help feel relieved to finally have an excuse to break up with him , the happiness and fury seemed to merge into one in your mind.
"mclaggen speak one more word and i swear to merlin ill FUCK YOU UP!" you screamed in his face making him abruptly stop before you turned around and stormed out of the portrait hole.
"yeah well youre ugly anyways!" he deperatly shouted after you as you laughed , making sure he would hear ,"and youre a bitch!"
"and your dick is small!" you shouted back at him , flipping him off just in time before the portrait hole slammed shut.
you let out a sigh of relief when it finally shut , the fat lady staring down at you with suprise before giving you a soft hum of approval , getting back to her normal position.
your whole face brightened into a grin as the realisation sunk in , you were single....but you were free from mclaggen!!
practically skipping to the great hall with a bright grin you waved and greeted every person that passed happily , many were confused by your happiness.
but your friends were even more confused when you ran into the great hall , sprinting to the gryffindor table and stopping infront of them.
"IM FREE!" you cheered before jumping up and down on the spot.
they all stared at you like youd gone mad as you quickly realised hogwarts gossip was quick- but not so quick your breakup from 3 minutes ago wouldve reached them yet.
"free from what?" harry finally broke the silence as you grinned at him.
"MCLAGGEN!" you squealed in excitement before sitting down next to ron.
they all seemed confused until hermione face morphed into pure shock , "you broke up with him?!"
both harry and ron quickly let out "ohh"s of realisation as you nodded with happiness , "i caught him snogging a ravenclaw , great right?! i was so angry at the time but when i realised i was free of him , i practically danced here!"
hermione held back a laugh , "y/n im so sorry thats awful!".
"the only awful thing about it is mclaggens breath," ron muttered as you laughed and shoved him arm causing him to gasp , "thats the first time youve ever laughed at a mclaggen joke , you usually smack the back of my head!".
"yeah well now that im not tied to that physco , i can laugh again!" you beamed like the sun as they all couldnt help but smile.
"im happy for you , happy break up," harry supported with a smile.
"thanks harry!" you then turned serious , "maybe i should be single for a while , i need to recover from the trauma that is being that goblins girlfriend."
ron snorted besides you as hermione let out a small giggle before spotting something behind you and smirking , "yeah i dont think being single will last too long."
"youre right , i just want to kiss someone right now ,because i can!" you laughed.
"yeah well i think i know someone very willing to volunteer for that," hermione said as you smirked and looked at her 'who?' she flicked her eyes back behind you , "riddle. the boy has been obsessed since third year everyone knows it."
"seriously?!" you asked in complete shock as heat rushed to your cheeks , the truth is youve liked him for a very long time , but his cold nature made you dismiss it as a unrealistic crush.
"y/n he hexed mclaggen twice when he found out you were dating." harry said blankly as if this infomation was well known.
"that was him?! mclaggen told me his nose was abnomrally large because the twins pulled a prank on him."
"oh yeah that was the twins but the boils all over his face and the uncontrollable itching? riddle." ron nodded.
"i just thought it was a rough week for him wow" you whispered , all the peices falling into place as you finally decided to turn around to look at mattheo.
and there he was , staring right back at you with his head in his hands , seemingly in a daze. until he quickly snapped out of it when you winked at him.
in mattheos opinion you were the prettiest and funniest girl he knew , and you didnt know him. so when you winked at him and giggled at the scarlett blush that formed on his cheeks , he nearly passed out.
"look at little mattys cheeks!" theodore teased having seen the whole thing ,"did the pretty gryffindor finally give you a glance matty?"
mattheo threw him a cold glare before looking at your back that was now turned to him , he had learned to tune out his friends teasing , especially since it had plagued him every day since third year.
but what he didnt expect was for you to get up out of your seat and run over to him with a bright smile , stopping infront of him and sitting down in the empty spot beside him. even his teasing friends had gone dead silent seeing the gryffindor girl infront of them.
"hi! mattheo right?" you grinned at him as he stared back with wide eyes.
"y-yeah yeah thats me," he struttered.
"sorry , i do know your name its just my friends call you riddle so much i had to make sure. i mean how could i forget such a handsome face?" you winked as everyones jaws dropped, mattheos especially.
"i- thank you..you....youre gorgeous!" the last part came out in a flustered shout as the whole hall turned around in surpise and his friends hid the giggled behind their hands.
you blushed. YOU BLUSHED?! mattheos brain was going into overdrive as the pink hue lit up your cheeks , he never knew it was possible for you to get even prettier.
"t-..thank you mattheo. look i know weve never really talked before , but ive always thought youre funny and nice eventhough you keep to yourself, and obviously hot" his face turned fully red as you so casually gave him the most compliments hes ever recieved in his life, "i was wondering if you wanted to go to hogsmeade with me?"
you smiled hopefully as he stared back with pure suprise on his face. you sat like this for a few moments as he recollected his thoughts , unmoving.
"YES PLEASE!" he said loudly making you laugh as people turned yet again.
"youre cute! see you there!" you said adoringly before kissing his cheek and walking back to the gryffindor table.
the whole of his friend group sat in silence before mattheo banged his head on the table letting out a loud groan of frustration, embarrassment rushing through his veins. this cued the loud howls of laughted from his friends.
"yes please!! he said yes please!!" lorenzo wheezed.
"ive never seen something so awkward in my life!" pansy choked through hysterical laughter , clutching dracos arm for support.
"mattheo for someone so cold and untouchable , you acted like a ten year old!" blaise laughed at him.
mattheo lifted his head from the table , face still as crimson as the ribbon in your hair , "remind me to throw myself off the astronomy tower."
draco dramatically gasped , "not before your big date!" he said in a sarcastic teasing.
and from the gryffindor table you also radiated a crushing embarassment , "i asked if he was called mattheo , UGH!".
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txtmetonight · 3 days
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I know I love you ✆
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call summary ⋆ ★ when a moment of realization flashes–and they know that they love you to the fullest of their heart
pairing *. * Ot5 TXT x Fem! Reader
genre⋆ ★ Fluff, slight angst in hyuka's
warnings *. Insecurities in hyuka's, bad grammar (semi-checked)
call duration⋆ ★ 2.6k
a/n*. * This was so fun to write lololol. also idk if anyone has actually noticed, but i'm slowly changing my format hehehe
taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet
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Yeonjun’s eyes seem to blur, but he supposes that's because the practice room he currently resides in is starting to get to him, like he's hearing voices. The mirror in front of him is dusty, and it's quite a sad sight when he looks at himself—hair disheveled and messy, with his cheeks bitten red like a tomato. It's past midnight, and he knows he should be home, but he can’t find the heart to get up and leave.
The dance isn’t perfect, not to his liking, and it kills him inside as his feet get sloppy and arms start to flail in a nonsensical manner. His legs ache with strenuous pain, but he gets up one more time. Just once more, he promises himself.
Yeonjun knows very well that his words mean nothing but a lie. It’s a never-ending loop that he can’t free himself from. He forces himself up, and his fingers flinch to turn on the speaker. He's hovering over the button, but he can’t seem to move it away.
The clock reads 12:34 when he gets a shrill ring—it scares him half to death. Yeonjun stalks over to his phone and picks it up with a slight interest. It’s you, he realizes, and he doesn’t waste a moment's second to pick up the call.
“Choi Yeonjun, where are you?!”
He chuckles into the receiver. You're amusing, and his eyes crinkle. “Still at practice…” Yeonjun could almost see your grimace on the other side.
You sigh, “Are…are any of the boys with you? Or are you overworking yourself again?”
Choi Yeonjun looks at the empty practice room. He wonders if he should just fib, but for some reason, you've always been good at spotting his lies. You call it your girlfriend instincts; Yeonjun thinks it's pure bullshit. “
The latter,” he finally responds.
You go silent on the call at his words, and he pulls back his phone to make sure the line hasn't cut. It didn’t, so he just stares at your contact photo with a smile. You’re very pretty. But your next blabber is definitely not.
“Choi fucking Yeonjun! You better get your ass back home before I leave you to the streets! Do you hear me?! I am not letting you pass out again! By the time it turns one, you better be here, or I’m stuffing you into our next meal.”
This time you actually cut the call. Yeonjun knows the meaning of your threats and isn’t one to test them, so he hurriedly packs his duffel bag before he locks the door. And as he does, he knows that he’s so unequivocally in love with you—it hurts in a good way.
Choi Yeonjun realizes two things that night. First, you’re entirely scary in your way. And second, he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime and many more lives beyond that with you.
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"You’re nowhere in sight. It’s quite unusual – really. Normally, you'd be situated on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book, but for some reason, you aren’t there. Soobin carefully shuts the door and quickly comes to the conclusion of your disappearance; you’ve gone to sleep.
Honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He came home a little late from vocal practice and was tired himself. All he longs to do is cuddle up to your side, preferably forever. Yet he knew from his upcoming schedules that it was going to be a while before he gets his proper break with you.
Still, he smiles at the thought of it. He lets his feet round the corner to the kitchen where he grabs a quick drink of water before making his way to your shared bedroom. Soobin’s arms feel heavy, and his throat is scratchy from all the singing exercises earlier today. All he craves are the warm blankets, but he’s abruptly stopped in his daydreaming about sleep as his hand grasps the doorknob.
“The audacity of this girl!”
You’re not sleeping as he thought you were. And you’re cursing someone out – how interesting. Slowly as ever, Soobin opens the door to find you on your stomach with a computer right in your face, aggressively typing something on the keyboard. Your eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t notice your boyfriend enter the room!
Taking advantage of your obliviousness, Soobin carefully toes his way to where you lie, just peeking over to see what got you in a twist.
Surprisingly enough, you’re writing a document-sized paragraph on Twitter. It’s filled with cruel words and language that he’s sure don’t comply with the app’s guidelines. He’s now filled with even more wonder.
“Hey honey… what are you doing?” he asks. You jump in your bed, accidentally smashing a couple of keys. Your eyes widen, and you punch a laughing Soobin. “What the hell! How long have you been there?”
He shrugs and takes off his jacket. “Long enough to question who you were bullying.”
You suddenly grow pink. “No… one?”
“Really?” Both of you know that he doesn’t buy the lie you try to feed him. So, you exhale in defeat and timidly stare at your fingers drumming against the computer pad. “Well, I dunno. Some girl was sending a hate train towards you, and I was just defending… your… name. I guess.” You grow quiet at the end, but it was loud enough for the boy to hear.
The silence in the air is loud, but before you could bury yourself in embarrassment in a heap of pillows nearby, Soobin bends to place a kiss on your cheek. He feels like he’s about to pass out, and as his stomach churns with its rollercoaster of emotions, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of love for you.
It expands in his heart and into his touch as he kisses you again – this time on your lips. He doesn’t know why, but his breathing starts to stutter when you kiss him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt this time.
He relishes the warm feeling before his fingers slide to where your keyboard was pushed to the side. He presses post, and your giddy grin is all it takes for him to kiss your lips again, his hands cupping your face. Choi Soobin thinks that he’s stuck in a pool of undying love – but he’d rather drown than live if his heart wasn’t for you to kiss."
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The house is quiet. Except for the quiet chatter of the TV and the slight hums of your voice, as you thread through Beomgyu’s hair.
It's gentle when your fingers softly scratch his scalp, and he feels himself falling into a state of relaxation, his heart thrumming vividly in his chest. Your legs swing next to him where he sits on the ground, playfully poking at his thighs in a comical tease, and you place loving kisses on his head, so tiny and feather-like that he must strain to feel them.
Yet, it makes him feel full and content, so much so that he's undoubtedly about to burst. Soon enough, a scene on the drama you two have been binging—filled with emotions—suddenly causes you to pause the show with a slight furrow in your brow. He looks at you curiously but knows exactly what you're going to say.
And he couldn’t be happier to indulge.
“Oh, that’s so stupid! Who in—what?!” you complain to him. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything but giggles at you. You’re entirely entertaining and quite endearing. As you rant and rant, Beomgyu notices that the strain in his jaw from earlier in the day—which he quickly attributes to being the loud one in the group, the mood maker—was slowly lessening. He could finally smile properly without such a painful toothache. So, he grins at you. You grin back, and it sends butterflies coursing down his throat.
Beomgyu also realizes that he hasn’t spoken once this evening. Yet he hangs onto every word you say, every little movement, every little quirk, and comes to the realization that you don’t expect him to chatter. You really don’t. And that’s what he supposes he really loves about you; that your words make up for his in the silence of times, and you don’t wait for him to do the same, for you know that he cannot.
Choi Beomgyu is a silent motor who dwells in the words of your love, where he will reside forever on.
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Taehyun can’t help but glance at his phone, and it’s becoming increasingly frequent as time passes by. He tries not to let it interfere with his dance practice, but he really couldn’t help it. It’s like a magnet, drawing him in.
His friends notice, but they don’t say anything at first; they merely observe his odd behavior. But soon enough, their silence couldn’t be held anymore. Soobin breaks first.
“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asks, pointing at the device that sits in a chair, right near where Taehyun has wiggled himself too. The boy in question perks up, his eyes flitting around the room, landing on each member before he turns back to Soobin.
“No,” he responds. Beomgyu scoffs at his obvious lying and points his arm at Taehyun’s phone. “Then why do you—” He then turns two fingers around and prods just in front of his eyes. “Keep looking at your phone!”
No one but Kai notices the tinge of red that flourishes on Taehyun’s ears, but his bashfulness could definitely be detected from the flustered smile that he delivers. “I don’t know what you guys mean.” Sure, he does. He was actually waiting for your daily afternoon text that you have yet to send.
Taehyun’s eyebrows furrow before he picks up his phone and scrolls onto your contact. The others sigh at his expense and leave him alone—most have an inkling about his unwarranted distraction, but Taehyun pays no mind to them. He’s on a very important mission.
Swift fingers dance across his keyboard before he shoots a very quick message. Taehyun’s very concerned by your lack of presence today, and his words are direct enough to show it.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Seconds later, several bubble pop up onto his screen. They seem to have a staring contest with Taehyun.
"Yeah. Open the door of your practice room. Kinda have my hands full :))"
The boy doesn’t hesitate to jog to the other end of the room and swing open the said door, to where, behold, you stand, with a great big smile and five plastic bags in hand. The sudden smell of food wafts through the area; and Taehyun doesn’t realize how hungry he really is.
You can tell too; you’d always had him figured out, however far you were from the love of your life. But he can’t stop staring at you until the boys come through and push him away. He guesses that they’ve smelled it too.
“Surprise! I figured that you guys could all take a break and eat lunch.” You press a chaste kiss to Taehyun’s cheek and push past him to put all of the stuff down. The other four boys rampage over to their own bags, screaming their thanks.
You just chuckle, but it slowly diminishes into a sweet smile when you find Taehyun still by the door. His eyes glow when they meet yours, and you gesture to sit next to you. “I love you,” he mouths. He decides that the way your cheeks puff and get red, or the way your lips curl, is what he wants to see in heaven. Or perhaps he’s already there.
It’s the small things, he supposes. The way you care. Like when you pour Beomgyu a drink and give Taehyun and Yeonjun your own food, insisting that you were going to shove it down their throats if they didn’t take it. Or when you ruffle Hyuka’s hair and adjust Soobin’s collar.
Later that day, Yeonjun carries thoughts. Thoughts that he whispers to Taehyun with a jolly grin after you leave on your merry way. “You better not lose her. I’ll kick you off the group if you do.”
Kang Taehyun has never believed in soulmates until you came along and stole his heart.
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It’s another one of those days. Where light usually shone, it was covered in bleak clouds, ones that Kai couldn’t escape from however hard he tried. He’s stuck in forever darkness that seems to consume him whole, eating away at his heart.
The pain is unbearable; it brings forth a few tears from his eyes. They feel like acid against his skin, and he wishes to be free from the pain of his insecurities. His hair flops in front of him, and one could assume that he uses it like a mask, hiding himself away until only a shell remains.
Kai doesn’t like looking in the mirror – he has known that from the moment such dark weather clouded his sight. And so, his reflection is slashed, covered in blood he has never asked for. It’s quite horrible when it's about himself. Then it gets worse when it extends to his bandmates – his platonic soulmates.
And finally, when his wobbly thoughts traverse your way, his stomach aches, and his heart falls apart into puzzle pieces that cannot fit. He greatly wonders how you can even put up with him and his miserable attire. Kai thinks that he’s tired of himself – but why aren’t you? As a solution to his problems, he has holed himself in his room, but you have a different answer to his questions.
You give three swift knocks on the door, each loud and firm, before you unlock the door and enter. Kai doesn’t dare to look you in the eye, but he feels your glowing stare on him. He doesn’t know what to do but weakly rejects your advance.
“Just… just leave me alone,” he says.
You don’t respond. He tries again. “(Y/n), seriously! Please!”
This time, your strides stop. And nothing more. Kai questions if you’ve melted to the ground, but alas, you have not when you sigh and exclaim.
“I would, but our son misses you!” Pause. What? Kai shoots his head up, in a query that shoots confusion down his spine. Yet he feels that tinge of a chuckle in the back of his throat. How do you do that to him so easily? When he stares up at you, your hands are behind your back, and you’re pouting. He decides to ask his question.
“What are you talking about…?”
You grin at him and swing your arms forward to reveal a tiny penguin plushie. “Our son, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him?!” Kai shakes his head. “No, of course not.”
This 'son' of his was actually a prize that was won from an arcade game. You’ve officially adopted him ever since. “Well… he told me that he really misses you.”
You take a step forward and lean down towards him. Your eyes observe his face, and they take in the expanse of his beauty. He wishes to cower away, but you don’t let him as you take your son’s tiny flappy fins and put it on your boyfriend’s face.
“We hate seeing you cry, my pretty boy,” you say as you wipe away his tears with the soft fabric. They soothe his burns. At last, you put the plushie away next to him and lean a little closer, just where his heartbeat resides on his neck. It beats with yours.
“I love you.” You kiss his heart.
Huening Kai thinks that you’ve just mended his puzzle-piece heart into such a beautiful picture of his irrevocable love for you – bigger and more stunning than any masterpiece created on this cruel earth. And you deserve much more.
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weskerssunglasses · 3 days
Note
Can we know wesker, leon, chris and jake's reaction(hcs) to fem s/o wearing a short skirt? 😳
*screams*
Rating: 18+
TWs: fem!reader
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Wesker
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I hate to say this, but... no outwards reaction IF you just show up wearing one. If you're purposely trying to taunt him with it, then it's a different story
Like we all saw what Excella was wearing and he didn't even blink. He honestly doesn't care what you wear, and might make an idle comment that you look nice, but he's not going crazy or anything. Though, you might notice he prefers to walk behind you when you dress like that- surely just a coincidence, yes?
Alternatively, if you're purposely trying to get under his skin by wearing one, he's all over you
Especially if you surprise him with it when he gets home from work
He really likes running his hands under the skirt to squeeze your thighs.... (+ if you sit in his lap you'll be out of commision for a few days)
Anyways, before I get carried away-
He likes it so much when you're trying to get a rise out of him because it feeds into his ego. Otherwise, he might get a little distracted by your thighs, but nothing major
Leon (RE4)
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Save him. Good lord
He's not sure if you're trying to initiate something or if you're just wearing a shorter than usual skirt, so he tries to figure out the line between sweet and flirty, but he fumbles last minute, and just ends up going "You, uh... look nice..."
Flirt with him while you're wearing it and it might kill him
He's no blushing virgin, so if you're flirting with him he'll follow suit, but internally he's dying because holy shit you look so fucking hot-
He finds his groove quickly regardless of if you're wearing it for him, or if you're just wearing it to look cute. He'll match your energy regarding it, but no matter up you'll probably end up with some lingering touches on your hips and waist
Oh, and if you're wearing it for him, match it with heels and a low cut top :)
Chris
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You get about a minute of ChrisR.exe has stopped working The first time he sees you in a mini skirt
The time on that goes down the more he sees you in them, but he always does get this look in his eyes, even for just a second, where it seems like his brain shorted on him
After he gets over that though, his reactions in public and in private are very different
Public: He's unlikely to say anything, but he'll be extra protective/jealous. Any guy who even breathes in your direction is getting snapped at
Private: ...😳
Jake
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He's insufferable. He gets unbelievably flirty and cocky about it
"All this for me?" Whether he's right or not, he's gonna think you wore it for him
If you wanna watch his brain shut off due to lack of blood flow, wear fishnets with said skirt
Gets mildly upset if you wear them in public
"Guys are gonna stare at your ass!" -Guy staring at your ass
Can't keep his hands off you though, so if he's with you he's your scary dog privileges. No one really approaches you
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marlynnofmany · 2 days
Text
Not Special, Part Two
(Part One is here)
Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.
But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.
He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.
He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.
When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.
The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.
He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.
Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.
Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.
He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.
Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.
“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”
“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”
“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”
“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”
“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”
“Fine!”
The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.
In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”
Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”
“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”
Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.
The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)
“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.
True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.
It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.
Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.
Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”
While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.
Then another, then, three.
Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.
No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.
Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.
This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.
Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.
Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.
Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.
“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.
“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”
“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”
“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”
Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.
He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.
Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out how to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.
Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.
They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.
He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.
And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.
Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.
Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.
They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.
“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”
“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.
The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.
Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.
Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.
“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”
“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”
“Nah, he can take at least two.”
Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.
Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.
“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”
“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”
“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”
“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”
“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”
Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.
He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”
“How in all the black holes—”
“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”
“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”
“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”
Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”
There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.
So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.
They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.
Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.
After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”
They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.
“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”
They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.
“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”
He got groggy approval to that.
Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.
I wonder what else I can do?
~~~~~~~~~
By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)
Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.
Onward!
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hanniedream · 24 hours
Text
drunken confessions with joshua hong.
warning: mentions of cheating but it doesn't actually happen, joshua is drunk.
a/n: the drunk shua brainrot is never leaving me i fear. and just so you know, whenever i post about drunk shua it's always @synthetickitsune's fault. always.
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you never fought with joshua. sure you had a few minor disagreements here and there as every normal couple do, but you can't think of a time when an argument between you has gotten this big. this time feels different, joshua had to physically remove himself from the situation and told you he had to go for a walk to get some air and clear his head.
a walk shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes, maybe an hour at most. at least that's what you thought, but the doorbell rings at close to 2am instead and you jump up from the couch where you had accidentally fallen asleep on while waiting for your boyfriend to come back so you can hopefully talk to him and clear the air before you go to bed.
you open the door to see a very drunk joshua being held up limply against seungcheol's side and you quickly move aside for them to come in.
"sorry for waking you," seungcheol says as he helps joshua lie down on the same couch you'd just gotten up from. "i was going to bring him back to mine but he insisted on coming back here."
you quickly shake your head, "don't worry about it. sorry for troubling you."
seungcheol smooths down his t-shirt as he stands back up then looks at you, "i don't know what happened exactly since he wouldn't say much, but judging from the way he was drinking earlier he must be pretty upset."
at the mention of your fight from earlier, you let out a sigh then give seungcheol a reassuring smile. "i'll talk to him tomorrow morning."
he doesn't say anything and only gives you a nod then heads for the door and you see him out with a quick "thank you".
turning around after shutting the door, you see joshua flip on his side as he tugs roughly on the collar of his button down plaid shirt. he must be uncomfortable. you pick out a t-shirt he often wears to sleep from the closet then go into the bathroom to get a wet wash cloth before coming back out into the living room.
"sit up," you tell joshua as you tap him on his shoulder lightly.
no response.
you attempt to pull him up into a sitting position and after struggling for what feels like forever, you finally succeed. with one hand, you brush his hair back from his face and start cleaning him up with the other. you're about to unbutton his shirt when his hand suddenly flies up to stop you.
"what are you doing?" he slurs with his eyes still shut tight, fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist.
"what do you think? i'm cleaning you up." you try to free your hand from his grasp but even while drunk, joshua was still a lot more stronger than you.
you try to undo his buttons with your other hand and you hear him mumbling something so you lean closer to him and you finally hear what he was saying.
"i'm in a relationship."
a fit of uncontrollable laughter escapes you at the ridiculousness of the situation once you understood what he thought was happening. you continue unbuttoning his shirt and you're about to remove it when joshua's hand shoots up to hold the collars together, preventing you from taking it off him.
"i don't know who you are or what you're trying to do," he struggles to get out between hiccups. "but i'm in a very loving and happy relationship and i hope you can respect that."
he throws his head back to rest against the cushion as he begins drunkenly rambling about how much he loves his "other half", how he pictures their future together and how he would never ever do anything to jeopardize that. you would definitely find the scene before you romantic and sweet if you didn't suddenly recall that right before this was your very first serious fight, the whole reason why joshua even got this drunk in the first place and now his intoxicated self is telling you how much he loves you and wants to potentially spend the rest of his life with you.
you don't have much time to be lost in your own thoughts and feelings though because joshua is trying to tell you something and he's signalling you to come closer.
"i can hook you up with a friend of mine though," he shoots you a cheeky grin and before you can even reject his idea, he's scrambling for his phone in his back pocket. the action nearly causing him to fall off the couch.
"soonyounggggg," he calls out loudly once the call gets connected and you roll your eyes. god, he sure is obnoxious when he's drunk.
he turns the phone over to you and you burst out laughing when you see an equally, if not more, drunk soonyoung looking back at you. his face was red and he can barely keep his eyes open.
"say hi," joshua instructs softly and you give the camera a half hearted wave. "soonyoung, would you be interested in meeting this person? like for a date?"
soonyoung leans closer to the screen and squints his eyes at you then he leans back with his lips pursed as if he's seriously considering joshua's suggestion.
"why are you not asking me if i'm interested in your friend?" you interrupt before soonyoung can answer.
joshua sits up slightly to look at you, "are you interested in meeting soonyoung?"
"no, i'm not."
"why not?" he whines. "soonyoung is amazing, he's cute and funny. oh, and he's a dancer too." he wiggles his brows at you suggestively.
you shrug, "i have a boyfriend."
joshua lets out a loud gasp as if you'd just told him something scandalous then he whispers, "why were you trying to undress me then?"
"because," you take his phone from his hand to end the call with soonyoung, "my boyfriend is drunk so i'm trying to get him cleaned up so we can go to sleep."
he looks at you with furrowed brows and you can almost see the gears in his head turning then he opens his mouth, "what has that got to do with what i asked you?"
"shua," you sigh as you rest your hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes and you can see how hard he's trying to focus. "you're my boyfriend."
his mouth forms an 'o' before he tells you, "well... y/n isn't going to like what you just said."
you figured trying to reason with a drunk man isn't going to lead anywhere so you give up and make him drink some water then tell him to get some sleep before heading back to the bedroom. you're nearly at the door when your phone vibrates in your hand and you find a text from joshua that reads: hey.., im nit surw what exavtly happrned bit appatentlt weve brokwn up ans im seeng somwone else mow
joshua wakes up the next morning confused and with a pounding in his head. he looks around to check the surroundings and flashbacks of what happened before he left the house last night comes rushing back to him. he rushes to the bedroom to check if you were there only to find the room empty and the bed was made. did you leave the house after him and spent the night somewhere else? he goes back to the couch to check his phone and sees the last text he'd sent you and panic grows in him, it reads like a break up text and he needs to explain to you that that's not what he meant. he checks his call log to see if he'd called you last night and finds that his last call was to soonyoung so he calls him to ask if he remembers what they had talked about.
"well, there was someone else there with you..." soonyoung closes his eyes as he tries to remember the details. "you said something about meeting for a date."
joshua's eyes widen. he'd brought someone else home? were you home when that happened? is that why you left?
all he can think about is how badly he'd fucked up and how he needs to fix this when he hears the sound of the front door unlocking and he quickly tells soonyoung he's ending the call.
"oh, you're awake." you glance at him briefly before kicking off your shoes.
he gives you a sheepish look then blurts out, "i didn't mean it."
you stop in your tracks then turn to him, "what?"
"what i said last night during our fight," he takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he's about to reveal, "...and that text. i'm not breaking up with you and i'm not seeing anyone else."
the mention of the drunk text made you chuckle and joshua shoots you a confused look.
"i'm not sure what happened last night but i asked soonyoung and he said i might have brought someone home with me," he looks at the floor because he can't bear to look at your face and see how hurt by this you'd be but he hears you start laughing even louder and his head shoots up. "you don't care that i might have cheated on you?"
it's funny how hurt he sounds when he asks you this.
"shua..." you're breathless from all that laughing, "how can you cheat on me with me?"
"what do you mean?"
"that person soonyoung saw on the call was me."
you sit down next to him and proceed to explain everything that happened last night including his drunk confessions and ramblings then you both start laughing at the fact that joshua called soonyoung to set you up with him and you stop when you suddenly remember that you were still in the middle of an unresolved fight.
"but i thought we talked it out last night," he looks up at you with his big, doe eyes and he knows it works like a charm every time, "with my love confessions and all."
"you couldn't even recognise me and literally tried to set me up with soonyoung."
a pout forms on his lips, "i was drunk and also an idiot."
"yeah, you are."
"but i'm an idiot who's very, very sorry."
"you'd better be."
"i am," he says with a firm nod then he reaches for your hands and is relieved when you don't move away. "and i'm also an idiot who loves you very much."
you're silent and he squeezes your hands gently, "i'm also an idiot who's begging for your forgiveness and will die if you don't forgive me."
you pull your hands out from his to hold them instead and you let out a sigh. "i'm also an idiot that's sorry about what happened."
joshua smiles at you then leans in to kiss you softly and you feel his smile grow when you kiss him back.
"so i'm guessing you don't want to date soonyoung?"
"i'm breaking up with you."
joshua pulls you back down when you try to stand up, "so you can date soonyoung?"
you shove him away, "now you're just pushing it."
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annwrites · 3 days
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt 1 | pt3
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
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The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
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Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
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Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
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Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
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While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
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When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
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seramilla · 2 days
Note
carmilla introducing vaggie to her girls. misscarriage
Carmilla: girls, theres someone i want you to meet
Clara: moma, we already know vaggie
Carmilla: si, but im introducing her as your sister
clara passed money over to odette: told you itd take less than a year for her to adopt her
carmilla: not quite adoption, remember when we died i was pregnant?
Odette and Clara return to the compound later that evening, filthy and covered in grime from a full day of excavating angelic weapons. They can't believe the sheer number left behind this time. Thanks to Charlie and the others at the hotel, there were more angelic bodies than Sinners; carrying not only weapons, but covered in armor. The sisters are tired but excited to get back to work the next day, to dig into the secrets their discoveries may uncover, and see what they can create from them.
After cleaning up, they notice the building is surprisingly quiet. Carmilla said she had work to do, and would wait up for them. The dark expanse of the warehouse is eerie, and their footsteps echo as they make their way to Carmilla's makeshift apartment on the second floor. They can see from the lights in the doorway that she's still awake; or at least still there, so they can tell her what they'd found. Upon opening the door, however, the two quickly realize their mother isn't alone. It's that girl...Charlie's partner. Vaggie. Sitting at their mother's side, Carmilla's hand on her knee, talking like they've known each other for years.
Carmilla is...smiling. And so is Vaggie. Odette and Clara stop in the doorway, staring at the two, puzzled, until they are noticed. Carmilla and Vaggie immediately stop talking when they see their visitors; Vaggie even shifts away a little, embarrassed. Carmilla stands abruptly, rubbing the back of her head with her claws awkwardly, but ultimately gesturing toward her daughters to come in.
"Girls," Carmilla says, a little catch in her voice. "Welcome back. You've met Vaggie, haven't you?"
"Yeah," Clara says, as she and Odette enter and shut the door behind them. "We met when we delivered that custom order to the snake man at the hotel. How's the weapon working, by the way?"
"Umm..." Vaggie flinches a little when Clara brings up Sir Pentious. She has such a look of profound sadness on her face at the mention of him, like she wants to cry. There's such a drastic change in the angel's demeanor, Odette awkwardly clears her throat and tries to change the subject.
"You're that angel that's dating Charlie, right? How are you feeling? Are you recovering okay? You had such a nasty scrape with the Exterminators."
"Oh! Yes," Vaggie says, seemingly surprised Odette would ask how she’s doing. “I’m doing a lot better, thank you. Charlie’s been taking care of me. And, uh...Carm--your mom, too.”
Vaggie’s voice is so much smaller and softer than either Odette or Clara remember. She’d been so full of energy and authority at the hotel; directing all the residents and keeping them out of trouble. It’s surprising this is the same woman in front of them now, acting all meek and mild in front of their mother. Hadn't she challenged her just several days prior? What happened since then?
"You've sure been spending a lot of time with Mama lately," Clara says, putting voice to the obvious. It's not so much an accusation, as an observation. There's no suspicion or malice in Clara's voice, just a lilt of a...question? Odette's thinking the same thing, if she's honest. Carmilla's been spending a lot of time with the angel. She doesn't mind, but...she also can't escape the feeling that something else is going on. Something she's not being told.
"Did you adopt her or something, Mom?" Odette asks, chuckling, trying to lower the tension building in the room. "She's strong. We could always use an extra hand around here."
The silence that permeates the space at her comment shocks Odette to her very core. Suddenly, both Vaggie's and her mother's eyes spike open, like Odette just mentioned someone had died. The change in their demeanor is palpable. Vaggie turns away, as if she's unable to look at the sisters anymore. Carmilla stutters again, trying to find her voice. She's been doing that a lot lately, where Vaggie is concerned. Carmilla can't seem to find the words to explain, and Odette and Clara don't know the right questions to get answers out of her.
"What? What did I say?" Odette looks at her mother, concerned. Carmilla looks like she's about to cry.
"It's not like that, mija," Carmilla says, unconvincingly. Oh shit, Odette notices, she is crying. "Umm, girls...come sit with me for a minute. Please? I need to tell you something."
They do. Vaggie moves out of the way so Odette and Clara can sit on the futon next to their mother. Carmilla reaches for the angel, too, trying to draw her in, but Vaggie just turns away, her back to the rest of them. She looks so small again, like she's curling in on herself. Carmilla looks like she wants to say something, but thinks better of it, and draws her attention back to the other girls.
"Clara. Odette. I'm going to say something, and I need you to...to keep an open mind. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course, Mom," Odette says, getting concerned at this line of questioning. "What's wrong? You know you can tell us anything, right?"
"Yeah! Whatever it is, we can take it. We're worried about you." Clara chimes in. As if her mother would ever doubt their resolve. Carmilla should know them better than that by now.
Carmilla pauses, for an unusually long time. Odette sees her trying to find the right words to say. Carmilla's hand then lowers, and she's...she's rubbing her midsection, over her pubic bone. Over her belly, like when she was...
Carmilla sighs, choking up again, but decides to just go for it anyway.
"All those years ago, when...when we died? Do you remember that I was...that I was with, aahhh...what state I was in?"
"You were pregnant, Mom," Odette says, squeezing her mother's hand, choking up at the memory. Carmilla had just found out, not even a few weeks prior. They hadn't even had time to celebrate. Her baby shower had been months away, and then their lives had been taken from them, snatched away like a thief in the night. "Of course we remember. You can say it. How could we forget?"
"Do you remember when we finally woke up, and how long it took for me to remember how we were killed? Clara, do you remember what you asked me?"
"I asked you what happened to the baby, and you said you didn't know. That it was just gone... Wait, Mama, hey! Are you okay? What's the matter?"
Carmilla catches them both off guard. She is actually sobbing now, out of nowhere. Face in her claws, digging them into into her forehead, and leaving red welts on the skin there. Her body shakes, wracked with grief, as if she's finally letting it all out, like she's been holding it together. For them. She probably has.
"I..." Carmilla starts, tears streaming between her fingers. "I can't! I'm sorry--I can't!"
Carmilla starts breathing rapidly, in-between sobs, like she's hyperventilating. Odette can't remember the last time she's seen her mother this way. Not since...
She and Clara are on their feet in an instant, about to wrap their mother up in their arms, and console her. Hug her, hold her, or...something. Anything, to get her to calm down and tell them what's going on.
They would have, anyway, except suddenly, Vaggie is there, already doing it for them.
"Carmilla, hey!" Vaggie says, squeezing Carmilla's shoulders from behind, much more level-headed and put together than the moment prior. She almost looks like she's back to her normal self. Brave...or at least she's trying to be. "Carmilla! Carmilla, stop! It's okay. You don't have to do this."
"I do!" Carmilla shouts, turning her head to look at Vaggie. The angel is surprised -- the matriarch's eyes are glowing. But around the edges, they've softened, and there's so much blue mixed in with the red.
Odette notices, too. Carmilla's eyes haven't been that way since...well, since they were alive. Like...like the human part of her is trying to fight to the surface. Resurrected by memories; ones she's being forced to recall, that she might rather have forgotten, to spare herself the pain.
"I have to tell them, Vaggie. They need to understand."
"Understand what, Mom?" Odette asks. She knows she shouldn't keep asking this. It's stupid. It's obviously hurting her mother. Odette's probably pushing a line here, that shouldn't be crossed, and she knows it. But her curiosity is killing her, all over again, and she just can't help herself. She needs to know what's wrong, so she and Clara can fix it.
Vaggie surprises her again.
"Let me do it, then," Vaggie says, forcefully, insisting, trying to get Carmilla to see reason. "You've been so strong for me. You've helped me so much. Let me do this for you."
"Vaggie, you don't have to...please, just give me a moment. I can--"
"No. This is hurting you. I want to help." Then, without hesitation, the angel looks at Odette and Clara, straight in the eye. Odette sees pain there, too; so much pain, and loss, but Vaggie pushes past it, and tells them, point-black, "It's me! Carmilla lost her baby, and it was me! All the Exorcists! We're lost children! We all died before we were born! They did tests on your blood when I was in the hospital, and you're all a match! Carmilla is my mother. You're my sisters! I know this may be hard to believe, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but you have to--!"
Vaggie doesn't get a chance to finish her tirade. Suddenly, a body collides into her front, wrapping its arms around her snuggly, in an almost too-tight bear hug. The angel stumbles on her feet, and may have toppled onto the floor, if the other person hadn't caught her.
That's when Vaggie notices the other person who has her is Clara, her arms grasped around her middle, with her face buried in the fallen angel's neck.
"I knew it!" Clara proclaims into Vaggie's skin, letting go of the smaller woman just enough to look back at Odette, sitting on the futon with their mother in a shocked stupor. Carmilla is looking at them, too. "I fucking told you, Odette! I fucking told you!"
Odette stands, and then immediately collapses to her knees. Despite her addled brain, despite her racing mind, and despite the absolute lack of belief she's experiencing in that moment, she still has enough of her wits about her to say, "Shit...sis, you were right."
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danoslvrr · 2 days
Text
“angel” - aj takers x reader
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-‘๑’- you find him playing the piano in the living room after a heist. he’s been injured and desperately wants you to clean up his injuries and kiss him better.
-‘๑’- warnings ; fluff, blood, descriptions of injuries, comfort, kissing.
╰┈➤ aj sits in the living room, his hands bruised and beaten. his blonde hair is messy, though you can’t tell as it’s covered by his hat. his blue eyes are watery, trying his very best to focus on the piano in front of him, but he just can’t. he needs you. now more than ever.
suddenly, he hears footsteps from a few feet away. he looks up, cocking his head to the side as he stares at the person in front of him with bright blue eyes. he stares at you with a smile on his face, holding out his hands, gesturing for you to come sit on his lap. you obey quickly, walking over to him and positioning yourself on top of his thighs.
he takes off his hat and places it on your head, whispering “hi, angel.” he’s always soft and gentle with you, as if you were a precious doll he couldn’t bear to break. a small sigh escapes his lips. “how did your heist go, jay?” you ask, brushing his blonde hair out of his pretty face.
he sighs heavily, removing his hands from your waist. he holds them up, almost in defeat. “aj!” you exclaim, frowning at him. he chuckles. “it’s nothing, doll. just some scratches.” it’s obviously more than that, his hands bruised and slightly bloody.
“let me clean you up.” you say, and he quickly shakes his head. “no, angel. ‘s fine.” “aj!” you groan, pouting at him, your lower lip jutting out. “fine, fine,” he says through a nearly silent chuckle. he shakes his head, putting his hands on your hips to gently lift you off of his lap.
he takes your hand, guiding you towards the bathroom inside your spacious penthouse. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, his hands on either side of him. you dig through the medicine cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit. he winces when you apply rubbing alcohol to his left hand, his right one slightly shaking as he holds himself up.
“angel, angel, easy,” he murmurs, a deep, husky whisper. he lifts up his right hand after you’ve cleaned and bandaged his left one, already contemplating how much worse this one is gonna hurt given as his right hand took the most damage. you apply rubbing alcohol and he winces again. “angel,” he breathes, his left hand just barely holding him up as he tries to ignore the sting in his right hand.
“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” you whisper frantically, panicked by his reactions. he must have gotten hurt really bad, given as he never reacts this way to a little bit of rubbing alcohol. you quickly bandage up his hand, then cup his face in your hands.
you bring his head into your chest, allowing him to rest against you. a small kiss is placed to the top of his head, your hand cradling his head. he sighs, looking up at you innocently. “give me a kiss, angel, please?” he begs, his eyes soft and a small pout forming on his face.
how could you possibly say no? you tilt his head up so he’s sitting straight again and gently lean in and kiss his pink, plump lips. his blue eyes flutter shut, sighing into your mouth. his breath is warm against you, and he tastes of alcohol and mint.
you two kiss for a while, lost in the others touch, smiling into one another. finally, he pulls away, almost breathless. he places his forehead against yours, still grinning. “i love you, my angel.” he whispers.
“i love you too, jay.”
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brodieland · 20 hours
Note
Jason Grace as Percy when he forgot about everyone but Annabeth?
Jase only remembers reader, his best friend (who he is in love with but haven't confessed to each other yet) And everyone stays because they realize their connection And maybe at night they try to talk about it and he's being completely direct like "I think it's because I love you, like Percy doesn't love Annabeth" and reader is like ?????? "I love you too but that was abrupt" MVNZVKZJKSFKSA SORRY I LOVE HIM
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Prophecy-Crossed Lovers!! ´ˎ˗
Jason Grace x Fem!Juno!Reader Synopsis: after Jasons disappearance, you just had to tell him how you felt the next time you saw him!! Tag(s): reader starts unclaimed, prophecy of EIGHT, cursing if it must be said I suppose Word Count: 3042 A/N: you absolutely ATE with this one holyyyy, also I really need to stop saying I suppose its actually a problem omg
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"C'mon Jase, its okay not to be so humble all the time," you joked.
"What," he chuckled. "All I'm saying is that when you like your job it isn't hard."
"You risk your life every time you step out of camp Jupiter, you can brag you know."
"Fine, maybe I am humble."
You and Jason were out around 9PM, walking around New Rome together just talking and laughing like normal. He was your best and you were his. You both had a massive crush on one another, but with his job taking on all his time, you wouldn't assume he had the time for crushes, so you kept your mouth shut. Then again on his defense, he just didn't think you liked him back.
"C'mere," you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the nearest bakery. "Let's get some cupcakes!"
"You just love to run though my wallet don't you?"
"Well, I mean, if your offering," you both laughed. Jason paid for the both of your cupcakes, you got strawberry and he got vanilla.
"Here," the cashier handed you both the baked goods. "I added on the couples discount for the two of you."
The cashier winked and walked off, leaving you and Jason hot in the face. You both looked at each other, quickly looked away, and walked off and sat outside together at a table together.
"Cashier was funny," he mumbled into his vanilla treat.
"Yeah," you mumbled back.
"We're best friends right?"
"Yeah, I'm always here for you, you know," you slid you hands across the table, and he held them in his. You both were very close with one another, and the line between friendship and romance was so blurred neither of you dared to speak up on it. Why possibly ruin what you have?
"We should head back, its getting late," he smiled.
"Yeah of course," you both stood up, not letting go of one another hands as he walked you back to your cabin. It always a goodnight when Terminus doesn't start a riot. "Well, goodnight Jason, see ya tomorrow."
"Of course, goodnight Y/N," he waved as you shut the door behind you. Walking through the doors of the fifth cohort, you walked over toward your bed trying to sleep. You tossed and turned till finally falling asleep an hour later.
You woke up in your bed, except you didn't really wake up. The air around you felt like static, and when you stood up, it felt weird to move. You were in a dream, a demigod dream.
You don't remember the last time you had one, so you were nervous. When you looked at your feet, there was a faint golden trail leading you somewhere. You followed it, then you realize you're walking towards Jason's cabin. When you walked in, all the beds contained a sleeping camper except for one. Jason's bed.
You were weirded out, you walked toward and saw the bed was empty and made. You walked toward the bathroom, to see no one was in there. Looking at the clock, it was 6AM, not even Jason wakes up this early.
'He's gone.'
You looked around, not seeing anyone who could've whispered that in your ear.
'He might even die before he comes back.'
You start freaking out, even hyperventilating, dreams intensify emotions and this was absolutely terrible.
'Will the memory of you alone be enough to bring him home, back to you, alive?'
You shot up in your bed, absolutely coated in sweat. Fellow campers were starting to crowd around you, looking at you with concern.
"Hey.. Y/N are you okay," one girl asked.
"Yeah, you were, like, groaning and you sounded like you were having a nightmare," another boy said.
"What time is it," you spat out.
"Like 9:50AM," someone said. You eyes shot open as you threw your blanket off and ran toward Jasons cabin. You slammed through the doors, and only saw some stragglers hanging behind, they were normally early risers here.
"Have any of you seen Jason," you asked frantically. There were confused murmurs of nos and nopes running through the room. Reyna walked out the bathroom in her normal attire as you rushed toward her. "Did you send Jason out?"
"No, I woke up later than normal, I thought he'd be out with you or something," she responded.
"No, he's not," you nodded.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes."
She quickly led you toward her Preators office, beckoning you to sit in front of her. As you explain to her the dream, you can see in her eyes as her expression starts going sour.
The next few months were depressing to say the least. He was your best friend, and the guy you're in love with, so him being missing is like, well, you're missing. Right now you were sitting in your bed reading a book and a newcomer, Hazel Levesque, comes and sits by the end of your bed. You two became close, she knew what it was to lose someone close to you.
"Y/N," she said softly.
"What's up," you looked up at her.
"Can I asked you something," she asked, and you just nodded. "What was Jason like. He must've been pretty awesome, since you know, how longs its been, and... yeah."
She didn't want to cross the line and say more, but she didn't have to. Everyone knew of your feelings, except Jason. You started going on and on about Jason, all his amazing qualities. His loyalty and kindness that knew no bounds. You stopped before you started gushing about just how hot and good-looking he was, and then had just found yourself daydreaming about what he could be doing right now. Had he made new friends, found a girlfriend maybe?
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"Dude, I'm working as fast as I can," Leo complained.
"I know you are, sorry man," Jason apologized.
"Whats up with you bro?"
"We need to go back to my camp, what if she's still there? It sucks that she's all I can remember but can just barely remember what we were before leaving. It's just stressful."
"For a guy with amnesia, you use the word remember a lot," Leo joked and Jason just rolled his eyes. "But seriously dude. Spill. Whats she like, she's got to be amazing if you swerve all the, and may I add, really hot girls here for the literally memory of her."
He sighed and took a seat on a nearby work bench, while Leo continued working on the Argo II, "She was my best friend. Ever since I'd made it to camp Jupiter, she'd been by my side. She made me laugh, she helped me to get over my Preator troubles, she just was there for everything. And before you ask, she's beautiful."
Leo just listened to his whipped friend go on about about this mysterious girl. "You sound like Annabeth, but at least she's actually dating Percy."
"Are we talking about how whipped Jason is," Piper said as she announced her presence.
"You guys are so annoying sometimes," Jason laughed.
"Careful, if she's everything you hype her up to be, might just have to steal her away from you," Piper joked.
"You might have too, maybe then he'll finally get the, whats the word, ambition? To make a move," Leo added. Jason sighed, looking disappointed. Leo took the chance to walk up next to him and comfort his friend.
"I just wish I knew what she was to me, was she just a friend? Because I don't think people spend this much time thinking about someone whose just a friend."
Leo rubbed circles onto his friends back. "Must suck being anemic."
"Amnesiac."
"Whatever," Leo smiled, he leaned in pretending to plant a kiss on Jason's cheek, before he laughed and swatted him off. Leo went back to working on the Argo II, while Jason and Piper went off and did their own thing.
"Hey, you think you could send an Iris message to a Roman," Piper suggested.
"We'd never even heard of them over there, so probably not," he groaned. Piper felt bad, but thankfully by just about next week they would be flying out to camp Jupiter to pick up the rest of the eight.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"He sounds amazing," Hazel smiled.
"Yeah, he is," you smiled back. Before could say anything else, another newcomer, Frank Zhang, came running in.
"Hey Hazel," he stumbled. He was adorable, and clearly had a thing for Hazel.
"Oh hey Frank," she waved. "Is it time for our guard duty?"
"Yeah."
"Bye Y/N," she waved. You waved back as you watched them walk off together. 'adorbs.'
You decided it was time to get out of bed and go for a jog. Something you did before with Jason before he left. After about half an hour, you were walking towards the mess hall for some food. Except you were quickly stopped when you saw a bunch of people running off somewhere together, so of course you followed.
They all ran toward the camp entrance, and what you saw was insane. He was making typhoons like it was nothing, was he a god? Frank and Hazel stood back in disbelief as they watched this rugged looking guy take down two gorgons like it was nothing. He was so powerful, and had been out in the world. Maybe he knew something about Jason?
After the whole incident unfolded, you noticed an old lady standing off to the side. She thanked - Percy, his name was Percy - for bringing her to safety, then she started... glowing?
Gasps were flying around as people started kneeling, but you couldn't tell why. "Why aren't you kneeling like everyone else?"
Instead of an old woman, she looked somewhat younger, taller, and more regal looking. "Who.. are you?"
People started murmuring around you, "My my, I'm Juno," you inhaled sharply. "Unclaimed I see. Don't worry my darling, soon enough you'll play your part."
Then, she disappeared. People were struggling to look between you and Percy, not knowing what was more shocking anymore. Reyna quickly whisked the both of you, with Hazel and Frank, to her office. She sat down, you zoned out as she asked your two cabin mates what happened, then interrogated Percy.
"Y/N, what Juno said.. have you had anymore of those dreams," you shook your head, disappointed you couldn't help more. She understood and let yourself be excused. (You pressed up against the door and listened to Reyna quickly offer Preatorship to Percy, and him claim to have a girlfriend and turn her down. Wow.)
Percy walked out the door and you quickly stopped him, wanting to have a word. "Percy?"
"Y/N?"
"I need to know, while you were out there what was happening, and did you ever meet a guy named Jason, or at least heard of him? Please, I really need to know."
"Sorry, no. All I remember is my Annabeth, and that I really need to make it back to her... Is Jason like, your boyfriend or something," he asked. You looked down at your feet, softly shaking your head again. Percy put his hand on our shoulder before speaking up again. "I'll help find him, alright?"
"Alright," you smiled.
Quicker than you thought, though you weren't surprise at this point, Mars made an appearance and for some reason Percy seemed to know him and wanted to rock his shit??? Whatever. Not the point. He got sent off on a quest with Hazel and Frank. Now you were alone again, but whatever. Not like they'd be gone long, you supposed.
As quick as they left, they were now back to camp. Safe and sound might be a strong way to put it, but they were back. You took the three of them to your favorite bakery in new Rome for some brownies. Coincidently, this was the last place you went with Jason, but that wasn't the point, or maybe it was, shut up.
You were looking down into your brownie with a neutral expression when Percy suddenly pulled you out your gaze. He was pointing into the sky, and there it was. Percy told you his Greek friends would be on their way, but you hadn't realized that they spared no expense it seemed. The four of you went running, and the closer you got, the more you noticed it. Or him.
There he was, standing in his Preator's uniform on the front of the ship, you almost broke down right there, but you stayed strong. There were four people on the ship and they all dropped down from a ladder, except one. You saw him from afar waving his friends off as he walked back inside.
You stood there starstruck, and when you turned to Percy, you both had the same look on your faces. It was like time froze, and you two went running. Percy landing into who you assumed was Annabeth, and you in Jason's arms. Jason hugged you tight enough to swing you around while you snuggled into his neck. "I missed you Jase," you whispered into his neck.
"I miss you too," he said as he pulled away. You both turned when you heard a thud, Percy was getting judo flipped. LOL! "Anddd she missed him, too."
You laughed and walked toward them. All the romans around were weary when Reyna left to speak with Annabeth while you and Jason left to speak alone. "So... where've you been?"
"It's a really, reallyyy long story. But first things first, we need the rest of the four."
"Percy, Hazel and Frank," you spat out with no hesitation.
"Your not gonna offer to come?"
"What help could I really offer? I'm not even claimed," you shrugged.
"Y/N..."
"What? I mean... it sucks but it's true," you sighed.
"I want you to come with us."
"You think I don't want to? That's all I want, I don't want to see you leave again without me. You don't understand what it was like staying here without you for all those months Jase," you didn't want to sound whiny, gods only know what he's been through, but still.
"You're coming with us because-" BOOM! Both of you whipped your heads around and saw the ship everyone flew here on was firing shots. Without a second thought you both went running and saw the Romans trying to fight off the Greeks. You tried helping Jason to stop the fight, when suddenly you saw something flying towards his head.
"JASON," you yelled as you ran your way towards him. You saw him on the floor passed out and ran by his side. You watched as a native girl helped to hold off the Romans while you sat by his side. You saw more people approaching from behind and grabbed the dagger you always keep by your side and started fending more people off.
One person, one person who completely ticks you off was making his way, and it was Octavian. "Why're you defending these traitors??"
"They're not traitors," you started. "They're gonna be the ones to save the world. And don't you ever talk on Jason that way again."
You slammed your dagger back into Octavians chest and slammed him into the ground, then you noticed a glow from above you. You looked in a haze and saw some rings and flowers above you. You'd never seen this before, nor did you know it was even possible.
You had just been claimed by Juno. And were now sure that Jason was right.
You turned and saw Jason starting to sit up, "Frank," you yelled. "Grab Jason and we have to go!"
You had recently learned about Frank's new ability and did it come in handy. The eight of you rushed onto the ship and said bon voyage as fast as possible!! The first moments of landing were rough, between Percy grilling some latino on what happened on the ship, and you helped Jason onto his feet while he directed you towards his room to lay down. "Some preator I am, huh?"
"Lookin very snazzy in your uniform Jase," you chuckled as you took a seat in front of him. "Did you see, I got claimed."
"I can't believe I missed it," he groaned. "By who?"
"Juno."
"Hm. Juno and Jupiter," he chuckled.
"What were you gonna say? Like earlier, before the explosion happened?"
Jason paused, all the confidence he had slowly draining away, but he pushed through anyways. "That I didn't want to be separated again. That I think I'm in love with you."
Your jaw slightly dropped and your eyes widened. "That was abrupt." Not at all what you meant to say.
"Abrupt? That's.. it?"
"Well I mean, I know I love you, so you thinking you love me too is nice to hear, but still, you really just spat that out didn't you," you laughed, causing him to laugh, too.
"But I really do, and I wanna say it before I accidentally go missing again," he joked.
"Hey, chill with that."
"Too soon?"
"Quite," you smiled. You looked into his icy blue eyes, then down to the scar on his lip and the way it moved when you smiled. Without thinking you just went for it and kissed him. You had the sides of his head in your hands as Jason pulled you closer by the waist. You took the chance to move your legs around his waist. His grip on your body tightened as you slid your tongue along his.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"You think he finally said something," Leo said while he was chowing down on some ice cream.
"I hope so," Piper made eye contact with Leo. "Wanna find out?"
"100%," the two walked to Jason's room. Leo held onto the doorknob and silently counted to three before throwing the door open. "Hey guys!!"
Leo and Piper were starting to regret walking in without knocking. You both sat there embarrassed with your frizzled hair and no shirts, awkward!! Jason just groaned and threw a pillow at the duo standing at the door as they laughed and shut the door behind them. "This might be our sign to start knocking."
"Just might be.."
63 notes · View notes
ancientschampionau · 23 hours
Text
Double Trouble... switched?
A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.
Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd
And specifically this post, and this comic :3
Have fun :D
Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P
(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.
His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.
That can't be right.
Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.
Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.
But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.
Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!
They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.
Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.
But maybe Dream had been wrong.
Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?
Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.
Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.
Yes, his best friend will help.
Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.
This... is not his room.
It isn't any room he recognizes.
It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.
Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.
That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.
Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-
Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.
He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.
He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.
He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.
He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!
Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.
Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.
Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.
There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.
Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.
Which means.
He is not at home.
Dream is in Nightmare's home.
-------
Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.
When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.
Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.
Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.
The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.
Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.
Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.
Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.
Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.
He needed to get to them.
Which meant.
Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.
This is starting to get annoying.
Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.
Only for Blue to have shown up.
Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.
"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.
Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?
Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.
Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.
Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."
Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.
"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.
Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.
...
Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.
Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"
Nightmare nods "But of course!"
Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"
----------------
Dream doesn't know what to do or say.
What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?
Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?
Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.
Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?
Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.
Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?
Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...
Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...
If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?
Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?
Dream just... didn't know.
"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"
Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.
Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-
Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."
Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.
Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?
Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"
Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.
Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.
Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.
Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."
Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"
Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.
"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.
Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"
Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?
Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"
What does he mean CATS?!
Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"
office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.
Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.
Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.
Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.
Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.
Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.
Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.
Okay... Now...
Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.
He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.
Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!
--------------
Nightmare hates this.
His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.
Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!
Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.
Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.
Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.
Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.
Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.
Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.
Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.
One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"
Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"
The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"
Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.
The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"
Deep. Breaths.
They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"
"No."
they blink. Nightmare stares back.
They frown "Waht? Why not?"
Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"
The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."
Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.
The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"
Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.
Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"
Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."
Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.
While they earned nothing.
How does Dream deal with them?
Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."
Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."
Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.
Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."
Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.
Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."
They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.
-----------
Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.
The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.
So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.
Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.
Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.
Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-
"Sup Boss!"
Oh are you kidding him?!
Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!
It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.
Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."
Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?
Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely
Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"
Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"
Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.
Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."
Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"
Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"
A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"
Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.
Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"
Horror speaks up "Again."
Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.
It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.
Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"
His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.
Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.
Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.
Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.
There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.
Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.
Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.
Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.
----------
Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.
Blue looks over worried "Dream?"
Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?
Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.
Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."
Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.
A portal opens before them.
Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."
They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.
Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.
More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.
Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."
Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"
Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.
Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."
Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"
Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."
Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.
Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.
Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.
Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-
His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.
Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."
Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."
A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.
Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."
Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."
Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.
Nightmare frowns "You can say no."
Dream blinks "Excuse me?"
Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."
Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."
Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."
Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.
Both have a lot to think about anyways.
---------
"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"
66 notes · View notes
holly-opal · 2 days
Note
Prompt: Some random kid (Reader) finds Mr Puzzles' head and repairs it, pretty much causing him to become their adoptive dad (since their og dad left)
(This is platonic, of course)
You pulled the red wagon carrying the broken TV to your little cabin. It was just a regular day for you, walking around seeing if you can find something useful like food, tools, some baby wipes for showering, and maybe even some lost toys or technology that could use some fixing. Looks like today day is your lucky day. Just kidding, that day will be when you actually get parents. Since your real ones abandoned you and left you to die in the slums. You carried the TV to the table and let out a hefty sigh. Goddamn that TV was heavy. You examined the TV carefully, it looks like there are no internal damages, only the screen needs fixing. Thankfully, you had just the fix! With a little bit of glass and super glue, you can fix it. You carefully put the shards of glass in, put in a nice dash of glue, and- "OUCH!" You yelled out as you felt harsh stinging in your palm. You cut yourself. Tears weld up in your eyes as you went to get the bandages, you quickly put one on you and went back to work. And you were done! Sure you got a few cuts and put a little too much super glue, but at least it works! You picked up the TV and put it down onto the floor, you sat down and started flipping through the channels. You found a nice kids channel and began watching it. You were smiling and laughing all the way, it made you forget how miserable you were, living scrap by scrap, going to bed hungry every night, anf always worrying someone will try to steal your things or hurt you.
As you were watching tho, the TV suddenly turned into static, you groaned and tried to hit the TV to get it to work. It didn't really work. You almost got up to fetch your tools, but then you heard... Crunching noises. Squishy, gooey, crunching noises. You looked at the TV and saw that it was sprouting arms, legs, a torso, an entire body. It was tall as hell, taller than any adult you have seen. The TV stopped playing static and was replaced with a face, a wide colorful smile and crazy eyes. You screamed and ran out of the room. You went into the small bedroom and went into your cot, you hid under your blanket and hugged your teddy bear tightly. You were shaking and whimpering, you shut your eyes, hoping that it won't see you and will go away. Suddenly, you were picked up by someone and you screamed, you kicked and wiggled, but it was no use. The TV man was looking at you, his eye brow raised.
"Now now, is that any way to treat your guest? Running and screaming?" He asked you. You gulped and shook your head, he laughed and set you down onto the ground. You backed away from him in fear. The TV man put his hands on his hips and looked around. "Where is the engineer that fixed me? I want to thank them!" He asked. You called down a bit, maybe if you tell him that you were the one who fixed him, he'll be grateful and not eat you alive. You pointed at yourself. "U-Um... I fixed you actually..." You said timidly. He frowned, he cocked his head at you in confusion, you internally prayed you didn't make him mad. He scoffed and walked out of your room, you followed him out. He was looking around the cabin, it was very small, and it didn't have many things in it. He seemed disgusted at the sight of your house. "Where are your parents? There is no way a child could fix a TV by themselves. And this place is awful! This is no place for a little kid!" He asked. You rubbed your arm in silence, looked away from him, remembering how your parents left you in the dumpster when you were only three years old. You had someone to take care of you, but they left you too. Nobody seemed to like being around you. They always seemed to leave you behind like a discarded doll. Something clicked in him, and he understood everything. You were an orphan.
"I.... I see..." He said with a sad tone. You went up to him and hugged his legs, you didn't mean to make him sad. He patted your head and smiled, and crouched down to your level and gave you a big, wide smile. "My name is Mr. Puzzles. And you, my dear?" He asked. You smiled back, you shrugged. That seemed to strike a nerve with Mr. Puzzles. They didn't even bother to name you? He pinched your cheek in a loving manner and picked you up, he cradled you in his long ass arms. "Well you simply must have a name! Hmmm... Which name, which name... Oh! How about Y/N?" He asked you. You nodded your head and clapped in excitement, you always wanted a name, but you could never think of one. He laughed and spun you around in a circle. He put your down and crossed his arms. "You could come with me to my studio! You wouldn't have to live here much longer, because no offense, but this place is very dirty and broken." He said. You nodded in agreement. The house was very bad. You only stayed because it gave you shelter from the rain. You grabbed your bag and started putting your stuff in it. Your tools, teddy bear, clothes, trinkets you made, etc. Once you were done packing, he picked you up and put you on his shoulders. You giggled and held his head for stability. You got a new home! And a new parental figure! This really IS your lucky day!
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musings-of-a-rose · 20 hours
Text
Jump Then Fall - Chapter 4
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Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”
Word Count: 5000
Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!
Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: Well, we've finally reached the end! I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. I really do love these 2 and would welcome any asks about them! When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30 but in this part, Javier is 36 and Vanessa is 25.
**Shoutout to @vanemando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
--If you like this, please let the algorithm know by reblogging! This way it can be shared with multiple people (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
Jump Then Fall Masterlist
General Masterlist
Javier Peña Masterlist
<<Chapter 3<<
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I don't see him until lunch the next day as he and Chucho had run into town for a few things. They both come in with some grocery bags and set them on the counter.
"They were out of broccoli so I got green beans. Will that work?" Chucho asks as he hands me a bag of fresh cut green beans.
I take them with a smirk. "Why do I get the feeling they weren't out and you just didn't want to eat the broccoli?"
"She's got you there, pops." Javier chuckles as Chucho punches his arm.
"Pendejo."
"Alright, alright. Get cleaned up and I'll make you both some lunch. Extra broccoli for you, old man."
Chucho hides a smile, grumbling as he heads upstairs to his bathroom. Javier stays in the kitchen with me, helping to unload the bags.
"New relaxation thing?" I raise my eyebrows at him.
"What?"
I gesture towards his mouth. "The chewing gum."
"Oh. Nope. Giving up the other one. I'm trying the Nicorette thing."
I close the refrigerator door and look at him. "Really?"
He shrugs. "It's a nasty habit, or so I'm told."
I turn away from him quickly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up at face at his use of my words.
"Well that person must be very smart to say that."
"I think so."
-------
I don't find the time to tell him the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Despite having a lot of chances to. Javier always finds his way to me around the house, chatting and asking me questions. I try to ask him some too, but his eyes grow dark and distant and he shuts in on himself, no doubt recalling the horrors of his time pursuing Escobar. I stop asking.
"Vanessa! We have to go or we'll be late to Danny's wedding!" Chucho yells up the stairs at me, just as I'm putting on my mascara.
"I'll be right down!" I take one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress. It was bold, for me anyway. Spaghetti straps and a form fitting dress that stops just above my knee, a lacy slip over top of it all that's long sleeved. It's a dark green color, always one of my favorites. I'm not sure it's entirely wedding appropriate, but it's the only thing that I liked that fit me decent enough. My hair is down and loosely curled and I turn my head back and forth to make sure the bounce had stayed.
I grab my clutch and head downstairs. Chucho stands at the foot of the stairs, smiling at me.
"You look beautiful, Vanessa."
"You're just saying that so I won't make broccoli next week."
He chuckles and gives me a hug. "You caught me. Oh, when's Alex back?"
"Next week."
"Pops, we have to get going or we'll..." Javier comes walking back inside the front door, red flannel shirt tucked into tight jeans that hug his body in all the right ways. He stares at me, his eyes moving up and down my body until Chucho elbows him in the stomach.
"Fuck! You uh..you look uh nice, Vanessa."
"Nice?" Chucho says, chuckling in disbelief. "I thought you knew how to talk to women." He heads out the door, leaving Javier and I standing in the entry.
"You look really..handsome." I manage to choke out at Javier. "Now come on. Your dad will kill us if we're late."
I move to hop in the truck and then realize the stick shift will need to be right between my legs if I wanted to ride in the front.
"I'll get in the back," Javier speaks into my ear.
"No you won't. The bed is dirty and I will not have my son walking into church covered in-"
Javier puts his hands up. "Ok, ok. We'll figure it out."
I get in, taking Javier's offered hand to help me up into the cab. I slide across the bench, looking down at the gear shift as Javier slides in next to me. I try to move my legs but there's nowhere for them to move to.
"Tuck them next to my leg." I look up at Javier, the closest I've been to him since that night.
"Are you s-sure?"
"Yeah. I won't bite." I swear he mumbles "Unless you want me to" under his breath but maybe I'm projecting.
We make it to the church on time. Well, early actually as Chucho wanted "a good seat." We get out of the truck and to my surprise, Javier offers me his arm again. I take it, using him to help me out of the cab, smoothing down my dress when I finally plant my feet on the ground. But he doesn't let go, doesn't drop my arm, letting me choose if I wanted to hold onto him or not. I link my arm further in his, noting the small smile he's fighting to contain on his face.
I am very glad I chose to hold onto him. Not just because his touch is electrifying my body, but because the ground in the dirt parking lot is very uneven, the last rainstorm having put in several large potholes and what feels like millions of smaller ones. Javier saved me from falling right in the mud more than a few times. When we finally make it to the pavement, he still doesn't drop my arm, looking down at me with raised eyebrows, silently asking me what I'd like to do.
"Oh no. I'm attached now. If you let me go, I'll fall on my butt I know it."
He chuckles and covers my hand with his large one, engulfing mine. "I got you, baby."
We say our hello's to everyone as we enter and I feel Javier tense next to me at the amount of attention he's starting to receive. Many people wanting to shake his hand and tell them how proud they are of him, that he's a hero. He smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes, and thanks them, shaking their hands with his free one. This happens several times on our way to the pew Chucho wanted and after the third time, I place my free hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. I can feel him relax into me slightly as the man in front of us thanks him yet again. But as the next person approaches, I cut them off.
"Juan, it's so nice to see you, but we need to sit. These shoes weren't made for real feet," I chuckle and nod my head towards my feet. "I swear if Javier weren't escorting me I'd be taking these things off or fallen on my rear end by now."
"Oh! Yeah go sit. See you later, Javs!"
We finally make it to our row and Javier gestures for me to go ahead. I make my way in, sitting down as Javier slides in next to me.
"Hey, thanks." He speaks quietly so only I can hear him.
"Yeah of course. Anytime."
Shortly after, the ceremony starts and Javier places his arm across the pew behind me and I will myself to not blush and just pretend like I'm focusing on the sermon, the priest now saying something about love and devotion in marriage or..something. I have no clue as I feel Javier stretch a little and slide a little closer to me in the pew, our hips almost touching.
The reception was beautiful, music starting up a bit later while everyone was eating. We finish eating and Javier turns to me, mischief in his eyes.
"Dance with me?" His hand is outstretched towards me and I take it without hesitation.
"Do you know how?" I ask as he pulls me to my feet.
"Do you?"
"Fair question."
He escorts me onto the dance floor, placing his hand confidently on my hip, the other taking my hand. The music starts and he spins us around, our feet moving together to the beat. His eyes are on me and mine on his, the air between us igniting with something that we felt 6 years ago.
That realization jolts me back to the present and I move my head next to his, looking over his shoulder. I really need to tell him. I catch sight of a blonde woman, about Javier's age, giving me a really nasty look. But then the songs ends and Javier pulls back.
"Thirsty?"
"Yeah."
We head back to the table and sit, several more people coming up to shake Javier's hand and tell him how proud they were, that he's a hero, all of it. I can see that far away look in his eyes, like he's here but not here. His eyes lock on something across the room and he leans towards Chucho and me.
"I'll be right back."
I watch him walk across the room towards the blonde woman who had given me such a nasty look earlier.
"Who is that?" I lean over to Chucho, nodding towards them. He glances up before looking back down at his plate of food.
"Lorraine. His ex."
"Oh. They serious?"
He takes a bite of his food and chews. "They were. But that was maybe 10 years ago?"
"Hhm.. how serious?"
"Well, they were going to get married."
"Oh."
Chucho looks at me and leans in. "He left her though. The day of."
"The day of...the wedding??"
"Not one of his best moments. But he was young and scared. And stupid."
I look over at them, a man now walking up to them and putting his arm around Lorraine.
"Well she seems to have done alright."
"Yeah. Married some banker or real estate guy or something. Seems happy. Couple of kids."
"Should you have told me this?"
Chucho gestures around at the room. "Everyone here was there that day. They all know. It's not a secret."
I nod, turning to look back at them when I see Javier turn, his hand doing that thing where it opens and closes, his bottom lip worrying slightly into his teeth. He stops a few steps away from Lorraine and looks back, watching as she picks up her kids and animatedly talks to them. When he turns back around, his face is full of regret and want, but I don't know if it's about her or the kids, his almost family. He walks through the room and out the back door.
"I'll be right back."
I get up and cross the room, heading out the door Javier did. I look around and see him sitting on a bench under a tree several feet out from the reception room. He pulls out some gum from his pocket and stuffs it in his mouth, his jaw chewing furiously. I walk up to him and he looks up at me, his eyes sad.
"Can I sit?" I ask, gesturing to the space next to him on the bench. He nods at the space, leaning back to put his arm across the back of the bench behind me.
"Thank you," I say to him after several moments.
He looks at me. "For what?"
"For...everything. I know you must have had to do some things you aren't proud of in order to catch a very bad man. I can't imagine how that must weigh on you, make you feel like you don't deserve praise. But you worked so hard and they took that ending away from you which was, excuse my language, very fucked up of them and you didn't deserve that no matter what you did, and I just....thank you."
His eyes bore into mine, shifting emotions behind them. Anger, regret, fear, disappointment in himself, disbelief, but then something else. Something softer as he focuses on me. His hand comes up to cup my face and I lean into it, loving the feel of his calloused hands on my skin. He leans in towards me, his eyes shifting down to my lips, his breath fanning out over my face.
"Wait. I have to tell you something, Javier."
"Can you tell me after we make out?"
Can I? No. No, Vanessa.
"I really think I need to tell you first."
He pulls back and it looks like it costs him a ton of effort, just like it did me to tell him to stop. He puts his hand on his lap and watches me, waiting for me to continue.
"Do you remember when I told you that Alex's dad had important things to do? And you thought he was giving me a line?"
He nods. "Yeah..."
"What if...what if that were you?"
He furrows his eyebrows together, confused. "If what were me?"
"If you had gone off to Colombia or were going off and you found out you'd gotten some girl pregnant?"
"I would have come home or not gone."
"Yeah, but wouldn't you resent them just a little for robbing you of this opportunity?"
He scoffs. "They would've saved me a lot of shit."
"You know that now. But then?"
He thinks for a moment. "I don't know. I can't say I wouldn't have been disappointed."
"Don't you think your kid would pick up on that?"
"I...I don't know. I didn't consider....Vanessa?"
I swallow down the tears that are fighting to escape my body. "Yeah?"
"How old is Alex?"
I take a deep breath and look him in the eyes. "6."
It takes him a few moments, probably doing the math in his head. But then his eyes widen and he pulls his arm from around me, scooting back a little.
"6?"
"Yeah."
He shifts on the bench. "Is he...who's his dad?"
I can't help the one tear that falls from my eyes. "Y-you are."
He looks at me before abruptly standing, pacing back and forth, his hand on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm his dad? Me? Are you sure?"
"I've only ever been with you."
He scoffs. "It's been 6 years, Vanessa. You haven't fucked anyone in 6 years?" He stops to look at me and sees the truth in my face.
"I've gone on some dates, but nothing ever happened."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I can only tell you the truth, I can't make you believe it."
He laughs angrily, finally stopping in front of me, glaring down at me.
"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"
"I-"
"Did you not think I deserved to know?"
"I-I-"
"I would have stayed for you! I-"
I stand up and he backs up a couple steps. "That's exactly why!"
"What?"
"You would've hated us if you stayed. You would've resented it. You just said you'd be disappointed. You don't think we wouldn't have picked up on that?"
"You didn't give me a fucking choice, Vanessa! Does he even know me?"
"He doesn't know who you are. I told him you were a superhero, fighting a really bad man in another country. And that you'd come back when he was caught."
Javier hesitates a moment. "You never gave me a choice! I lost all of that time. I lost...FUCK! I can't even look at you!" He turns and walks away, past the parking lot and into the street, heading towards town.
I call after him but it's no use. I collapse onto the bench, my head in my hands, finally letting the tears out that I'd been holding back for so long.
-------
The next morning, I set at the kitchen island, a mug of hot coffee clutched between my cold hands as I wait for Javier. I hear the sounds of someone moving down the stairs and I sit up straighter, but Chucho enters the kitchen. I feel my face fall as he looks at me.
"I know I'm not a looker but-"
"Sorry, Chucho. I was expecting.." my voice trails off and he cocks his head.
"Javi? He left."
I sit bolt upright. "Left?"
Chucho pours himself a mug of coffee. "Yeah for Cali. Didn't he tell you? He was going to tell you last night that he was heading back. It was sort of a secret but I told him you'd probably notice if you were no longer sharing a bathroom."
I feel the blood drain from my face. "He's gone?"
Chucho turns, mug in hand and scans my face. "Yeah. I thought he told you? When neither of you returned to the reception, I assumed...well, I thought he'd tell you before he..."
Tears fall wet and hard from my already puffy face. Chucho looks alarmed but sets his mug down and pulls me to him, letting me soak his shirt as he makes calming sounds at me.
"I told him, Chucho. I told him about Alex," My speech is muffled but he hears it all the same.
"What happened?"
I tell him the entire conversation, how Javier just stormed off and how I expected to see him this morning, to apologize and tell him he doesn't have to be involved, that I can move out to make it easier. Chucho waves me off with that last one. "I would never make you move out. Javi doesn't cook nearly as good as you."
I give him a small smile, my shoulders still shaking from sobbing.
"Listen, Vanessa. I won't give you a lecture. You know my opnion and it's no use retelling you. But he knows now. Javier tends to run from things."
"So we're his latest Lorraine?"
Chucho cocks his head, thinking. "I doubt that very much. You're not Lorraine. He looks at you differently."
"Looked. I doubt he'll even want to see me again."
"Mm...let's just give him space, ok?"
"But what if he's down there another 6 years?"
"Something tells me it won't take him that long to think about things."
-------
Javier
It had been a month since Vanessa told him he has a kid. That he has a 6 year old son he knew nothing about, knew nothing about him. Except that he's a hero. Which is a lie.
The Cali Cartel had another 5 months before they would be "turning themselves in", which was a big joke. He had to catch them before the time was up so they could face actual justice and not this fake, bureaucratic bullshit.
He's tried to resort back to his old ways of dealing, burying himself in a woman. But when he tried to, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, let alone sleep with them. It was everything he could do to not pick up a cigarette, but his patience was wearing thin.
He tried not to think about Vanessa and her confession. But when the work day was over, and he went back to his penthouse the government provided, his brain would play that conversation over and over in his head. At first, he continued to remain livid, that she had denied him the choice of knowing his family, being with his kid. But then his dad's words echoed in his mind, the call coming the day he landed in Cali.
"That girl has been through hell, Javi. Don't be the asshole you claimed you wouldn't be."
"She didn't tell me I had a kid, dad. A kid! Who does that?"
"She was only thinking about you! This whole time, she was worried about your wellbeing. She didn't want you distracted or resentful, even if it cost her everything."
"What did it cost her?"
"Her parents! Her family, friends, her church. Ours welcomed her with open arms only because I was there to vouch for her. She was shunned from her entire life and still only worried about you. Don't be such a stubborn asshole."
He thought about Vanessa, so young and pregnant, trying to figure out how to tell her strict parents she was expecting despite not being married. Them kicking her out, closing her off from all of her friends and family, anyone who would support her. Her finding the strength and will to drive all the way back to Loredo to try and find him and discovering he would be away for an indefinite amount of time. What would he do in that situation? Run away from it, probably. Which she didn't have the option of doing.
He takes a swig of his drink, the ice cubes clunking against his top lip. He wants to meet his kid, Alex. Wants to tell him that the bad guy was caught and that he's back. Would he be back? It's probably good Alex doesn't know who he is, in case something happens to him here. But if he gets to go home, he knows he wants to be in his life.
What about Vanessa? Will she let him in their lives? Javier is pretty sure she will, even with the way he left. But what about her? If he's honest with himself, truly honest, when he looks past the anger, he sees her big eyes, the freckles on her cheeks, the sass she gives him in her quiet manner. And he thinks, no. He knows. He knows he loves her. He thinks she loves him. If she didn't, surely she would've told him long ago, not caring about his well being. But she had been so adamant about not telling him, wanting him to be safe.
He crosses his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck, what was he doing? Granted he signed up to go back to Cali when they called him in, assuming that if he didn't they would throw him in prison. But honestly, he was ready to come back and actually be here when they get the bad guys. But then Vanessa came back into his life and now a kid.
Fuck, he's an idiot.
-------
Vanessa
6 months. It had been 6 months since Javier stormed out and ran away to Cali. Ok, run away was harsh as he went there for work, agreeing to it long before he knew I was here. But he hadn't called and I took that as a sign, no matter how many times Chucho said it doesn't mean anything because he doesn't call him either. He gets too caught up in his work.
It's the start of summer, the windows are open to get a cross breeze coming through the house. I do miss the ac back home, but I'll take Chucho's home over the one I grew up in any day, heat or no.
Alex got a new book and I hadn't seen him for a couple hours as he's spent them in his room, devouring the latest in his series. He did come out once, nose buried in the book, to ask me for a snack.
I finish washing his cup, setting it on the rack to dry. I stare out the little window over the sink, watching Chucho putter about between the barn and the shed, thinking about the animals and how hot it's going to get out there. I know they're used to it, but still. I'' have to get some extra ice trays at the store so I can throw some more in their water troughs. Chucho says that's why they all like me so much.
Suddenly, I hear heavy steps on the wood floor behind me, much heavier than Alex's. I spin, my hand gripping the cast iron pan that was sitting there. But when I fully turn, I nearly drop the pan.
Javier is there, standing in front of me, his chest heaving, a small bead of sweat sliding down his neck and onto his chest, which is slightly exposed by his several undone buttons in his lavender purple, button up shirt.
"Javier, I-"
"Sshh. I'm sorry."
"What?"
He takes a few steps towards me. "I never should have just left. I at least should've told you about Cali."
"No. I'm sorry. I should've told-"
He's only a couple steps from me now. "No, it's ok. I understand. You were thinking about your family. About how it would affect even me. you did what you had to do."
This was not what I expected. He reaches for the pan, still clutched in my hand. He takes it and sets it on the counter behind me, leaning close to me. He looks down at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek and I inhale sharply at the sensation.
"You're so brave and I'm a fucking idiot."
"You have every right-"
He pulls me to him, gently pressing his lips to mine, giving me time and space to stop him. But what he doesn't know is his touch has sent me spiraling, spinning away into the sky. And when his tongue slides into my mouth, my body trembles slightly, my hand coming up to mindlessly grab onto his arm. But then he pulls back, staring into my eyes.
"I'm in love with you."
My stomach lurches, a thousand butterflies being released in my body at his words. Love? He loves me? I never thought I'd hear those words from anyone, let alone the man I've loved since I was 19. The reason none of my dates every worked out.
"And it's ok if you don't-"
"I love you too."
He smiles, a real smile that lights up even his eyes, both of his hands now cupping my face. "Really?"
"Why do you think none of those dates ever worked out? It was always you, Javi."
He kisses me more passionately now, his hand leaving my face to grip my hip, pulling me against him. I feel him through his tight jeans, pressing into me and I groan a little in his mouth.
"Fuck, you're so intoxicating. It was killing me not to kiss you."
"Mmm." Is all I can manage to say. But then I remember we're not alone, not this time.
"Do you want to meet him?"
Javier pulls his face back from mine. "He's here?"
I nod. "Yeah. Reading, upstairs."
He shifts, tugging on his pants. "Hell yeah I want to meet him. But uh, give me a sec?"
I glance down and chuckle. "Maybe I can help you with that later?"
He groans. "You aren't helping any now."
He turns and walks out the back door and I see him say hi to his dad, embracing him. Chucho watches him for a moment and then a smile appears and he claps him on the shoulder. I can only assume he's telling him he's going to meet Alex. Javier comes back inside, taking a deep breath.
"Ok, I think I'm ready."
"Alex! Can you come downstairs for a minute?"
Small feet patter across the floor upstairs and make their way down, Alex appearing in the kitchen a moment later, his book still propped open in his hand.
"Mom, I was at a really good part!"
"Alex, I have someone I want you to meet."
"Can it wait?"
I kneel down to get on his level, his eyes, so like Javier's, staring back at me, sensing the seriousness.
"Alex, meet your dad, Javier."
Slowly he turns, looking up at Javier who waves at him awkwardly. "Hey, kiddo. I uh, got the bad guy. I'm sorry it took me so long."
Alex continues to stare at him for a moment. Then he throws his precious book to the floor, running full out towards Javier, who throws his arms out at the last minute as Alex leaps into them, nearly knocking him over.
"Dad? It's really you?"
"It really is."
Alex clutches onto him, tears in both of their eyes. "I always dreamed of meeting you! This is the best day of my life!"
Javier hugs him tight, fighting back the tears that are quickly gathering in his eyes. "This is the best day of my life too, son."
-------
2 years later...
I load up the old tractor with a couple of picnic baskets, 4 large thermos full of homemade lemonade next to them. I close the back and carefully hop up, driving slowly across the property, a smile on my face. After a while, I pull up to the 3 men in my life: Chucho trying to carry wood by himself, Javi yelling at him as he runs to help him, and Alex, hammering away at a spare piece of wood. They were at the back end of the property repairing a downed section of fence. Javier sees me pull up and he rushes over, offering me his hand to help me down.
"I wish you hadn't driven this thing."
"Well if I walked, it would've been dinner by the time I brought your lunch."
"Mom! Watch me!" Alex starts hammering on a piece of wood Chucho had laid in the ground, Javier moving to help him pound it in further.
"My strong man!"
"Son, gather up the tools and put them in the box. We're taking a break for lunch."
Alex starts to look around for the tools as Javier turns back to me. He wraps his arm around me and leans in to kiss me, sliding his tongue over my bottom lip.
"Now now none of that. That made this happen," I rest my hand on my enlarged belly as Javier leans down, planting a kiss to my stomach before standing back up. He leans close to my ear.
"I plan on putting as many kids in you as you'll let me."
I slap his chest, but the thought warms me. "Let's just see how these 2 go first, yeah?"
He smiles at me, kissing me again before lifting Alex into the back of the trailer, helping me to set up the picnic lunches I had made for all of them. As we stare out at the river, a boat comes through, obviously carrying illegal items, most likely drugs. Javier stiffens, but then looks around at us.
"I'm done. I've done all I can. Now I just want to spend my life with my family."
-------
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