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rebelfell · 2 months

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bells will be ringing

crush!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader x fwb!Eddie Munson

The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution. 18+, MDNI 8k

cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.

The Harrington’s were white light people.

There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.

It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.

The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection.

Elegant. Proper. Pristine.

The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.

It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.

“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.

The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.

“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”

His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”

It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.

To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.

“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”

That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.

“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”

He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.

Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.

“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”

You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”

The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.

When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.

If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.

Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.

“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.

“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”

“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.

He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”

“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.

“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”

“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”

“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”

Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard.

“You showed it to him?”

“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”

Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…

It was almost unbearable.

The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.

The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real. You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.

Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.

You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.

And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.

A fairly illuminating one, at that.

There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.

And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”

“He…he did?”

“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.

“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”

Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”

Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.

Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.

“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”

“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.

“Shall we?” he asked.

The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.

You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.

When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered.

His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…

It made you wonder.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.

The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.

A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”

Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.

“You always look perfect,” he said.

It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.

“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”

Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.

Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”

“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”

“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.

All you could do was stare.

You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory.

Cold. Fake. Empty.

It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.

But words refused to come.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”

He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.

“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.

Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them.

It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.

“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.

His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.

“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest.

“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”

Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.

“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”

As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.

“What are we waiting for?”

Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.

The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.

Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.

“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”

He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.

Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.

“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.

After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle.

Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.

Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.

The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”

A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.

“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”

His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.

“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”

“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”

Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”

You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington.

“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”

Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.

The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.

“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.

Steve’s head lifted. “What?”

“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”

He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.

“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”

“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”

Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.

The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.

“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”

Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.

“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”

He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”

It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”

Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.

“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.

It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.

“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.

“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”

Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.

This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

“But what if he—”

The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.

“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”

“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.

“Hey…c’mere, doll.”

Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.

You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”

You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.

Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.

His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.

Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.

“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”

The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.

It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.

“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”

Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”

The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.

Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”

The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”

Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.

“Eddie—”

“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.

“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.

A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”

At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.

He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.

With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.

He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”

Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.

“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”

Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.

You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.

The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.

Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”

“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”

The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.

“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”

The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good.

Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.

Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.

Wishing it was you.

“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”

Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.

Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.

“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.

“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”

“Steven? Are you out here?”

Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.

Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.

“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.

His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.

Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.

There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.

With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?

Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.

You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive.

It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”

His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.

“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you.

You shook your head.

“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”

“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly.

He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.

“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”

With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.

Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.

“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”

Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️

Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic

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ivanzplaid · 10 months

Note

Can I get yandere head canons for the Sinclair brothers, Billy Lenz and Harry Warden, thank you as always 💛

-📼

HIII HELLO YES OF COURSE YOU CAN CASSETTE ANON SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU 🫶🫶 i have had sm work and no motivation but a little yandere hcs will do, ALSO THIS IS SUCH AN OLD REQUEST ORE HIATUS IM SO SORRY💔 these are sfw so if youd like nsfw ill do that :) these are mainly set for after meeting you, and how theyd make sure you'd stay with them, and some cute little ideas for when youre theirs

this is darker than i remember writing it so please proceed with caution⁉️

requests r open, masterlist is up!!

Yandere! Slashers x Gn! Reader | Headcanons | Meeting You

Warnings: Yandere Behavior/Actions, Obsession, Kidnapped reader in every section.. my bad, Dark themes kinda-ish, Drugging mentions in Billy's & Bo's section

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Lester Sinclair

lester, love of my life, he will most likely be the one to plot your meeting. he sees you while hes out of ambrose, hes infatuated, he thinks youre the most charming person hes seen in a while. he will stalk you when he finds youre in town, its a small, but quickly growing obsession, he thinks that youre just an after thought, but the more you come in, the more he wants to have you to himself

so, he does his lester thing, and waits & waits, trying to lure you into ambrose one way or another. he'll show up more in youre life, saying hello or making small talk, then, he may slash a tire or make it so that your car just has its miles draining faster n faster, so when youre pulled over on the side if the road, hes your savior

not only does he love this because hes saving you from this, and youre just thanking him over and over, and hes becoming more excited by the minute, he loves to hear praise come from your mouth, its exciting. he also loves this because now he finslly has his excuse to bring you to ambrose, away from those friends he always sees you with that just dont value you and love you as much as he would, or care about you as much as he does

he'll bring your car in, and say in such an exasperated voice that it just wont be done for the next few days, would you like to stay for coffee?

he explicitly tells his brothers that you are not to be made a sculpture, hes serious, but if they see you trying to leave, they have the job to bring you back to him

hes just too thoughtful of you to let you go, do you really wanna go back to your family? who let this happen to you? look him in the eyes snd tell yourself he doesnt care, because he wants to know all about you if you gave him the chance

touchy, touchy touchy touchy, arm around your waist, a smiling kiss on the cheek, you on his lap, he wishes for it to happen

he thinks of physical touch as wondrous, how can he hold the epitome of perfection in his hands? hes in awe

he will 100% sweet-talk-manipulate you into staying with him, hes too desperate to let you go, its unfair, why would you leave the man who loves you the most?

hes also very delusional, he truly believes what hes doing is justified and fine, and it pushes him to be much more emotional in this 'relationship'

will be absolutely distraught if you outwardly insult him / say rude things, but hes convinced you dont know what its like, and this is for the greater good of your existence

caretaker!! loves to treat and pamper you, he almost needs to take care of you because he thinks its cute, but dont let this trick you, he will take these privileges away because he loves to see you beg for basic things

be a good little pet and stay with him, hes the only one who knows how to treat you

not the violent type, wont hit or hurt you because it would pain him as well, you deserve so much more than that and he stands by it

but is not afraid to tie you down if that means youll stop trying to leave ( if you do try )

he loves sharing time with you, he will bring you everywhere to do everything, you deserve the same fun as him!

he loves to talk about you, allll you you you, please tell him about your hobbies, he'll do his best to indulge in them more! or about your day, or who you are as a person, or aomething that makes you laugh, anything, literally anything please

not as into killing as his brothers, but he will be the most protective man over you, he is not a fan of flirtation and will be passive aggressive if visitors flirt with you, but dont worry your pretty little head, they'll just go on over to bo or vincent and you two wont need to worry

loves loves loves to give you gifts, but has a stigma where only he can give you gifts. if he sees anyone else trying to give you them, it leads to his temper shorten

id be happy to exaggerate if youd like! but these are the main ones :)

Billy Lenz

he most likely meets you in the sorority/fraternity, and is immediately interested, youre a sophmore trying to get through your classes, youre like every other person, but he cant get his eyes off of you

unlike lester, he acts on his thoughts quickly, hes impulsive and foggyheaded, he has not a care in the world, and most dont know he even exists, so the moment he takes a liking to you is the moment he sets out to talk to you

he'll call you nonstop, sometimes just to listen to your voice, or to say obscene things, or even to pretend hes really with you, he wants to have the interactions you have with your friends and hes jealous, he should be getting that treatment, its just unfair

i have yet to mention hes possessive, even before he has you, he gets upset at the slightest of things because he focus's completely on you, its hard to get his eyes off you, so your every move will be noted

one night, its before winter vacation of course, the holiday lights are up and youre packing your things to go back home, youre the last one left besides a friend whose waiting on you outside, but in the house its quiet, your own breathing is too loud for you

billy is upset, hes been upset, why dont you answer the phone anymore? why havent you been responding to the notes hes been leaving you? why why why

he doesnt like to see you leave either, he prefers if youd stay because youre the only thing keeping him from having the realization that he will be alone once you leave, he will have no one to talk to or see or be with

hes spiraling, his impulsiveness and intrusive thoughts get the best of him and he decides you arent leaving, you cant and you wont

he doesnt mind having to do a bit of killing if it means you'll stay, he needed to get rid of the people taking away your attention from him. you should only be focusing on him, spending time with him, all about him

he is desperate for attention, he needs you to acknowledge him, will create disturbances just so youll look around and think of him

he eventually kidnaps you, treating you in the most delicate nature as to not harm you ( hes already slipped sleeping pills into your drink before bed, the easiest method so that you'll be compliant )

he wont understand if youre mad at him, and will genuinely be hurt by anything you say or do. why wouldnt you enjoy being with billy? billy loves you, thats all that matters

his warped perception of love & infatuation causes him to be awkward and have a harder time in a relationship (especially now)

loves to have express his love for you in all ways, he wants to stroke/hold your hair and give you gifts and play board games with you because he loves you so much that it physically hurts to not be with you

if youre thinking about it, theres little chance for escape, hes always with you, whether hes lurking or just hanging out, he likes to see you

will steal someones camera to take photos of you two together, its perfect since he can always remember you and your face

loves to take you around and show you all the secrets he knows of the fraternities/sororities, as well as the campus himself, hes your certified tour guide

will jump on you if hes scared, like full on hide behind you while clawing at your shoulders, hes quite literally a little feral

if you want to, he will allow you to style his hair, he thinks you work wonders with whatever you do to it, even if it looks bad, because as long as his love did it, hes happy

Bo Sinclair

i want him.

you'll stumble upon him out of town, accidentally shouldering him, which will make you get his attention. at first he'll want to give you a charming "watch it.", but when he sees you, he physically stops in his tracks, he just stares at you for a long amount of time before you awkwardly laugh and walk away

he gets hooked faster, hes interested in the absolute beaut that just walked out of his life as fast as they came in. hes not used to social interaction so being bo, he tries to plot out an official meeting (after stalking you from a distance and trying to put on a charming stranger face)

he'll bribe lester to mess with your car so that he can bring you into ambrose, sealing your fate as soon as you've entered

hes talked to his brothers, instructing thst youre not to leave, and to not be *too* hurt in the process, he understands if you have to be roughed up a bit, just so that you'll listen to him next time

when you come in to meet him, he'll act so shocked to see you, chuckling and saying what a coincidence it is, and how fate brought you two together

the entire time hes taking in your figure and your body language, trying to control himself from drugging you right then and there, to have you all to himself

he uses his social skills to talk you into staying a night, claiming that your car has been meanin for a checkup, and the damage is bad.. but he wont charge you the full price, since youve been so kind. He'll offer you a room snd a nice homemade breakfast, saying that hell work on it so you can be out of here in no time, all of these promises just for you, because he wants to take you home

hes extremely possessive, he believes that youre property, and youre owed to him. which is the exact reason he thinks its ok to toss you around if it means youll behave better (he'll comfort you after, stroking your head.... while saying 'thisll be easier if you just listen to me darlin')

he likes to take the shorter, yet harsher route, so that stockholm syndrome sets in quicker. he just wants to live his best life with a docile partner.

his delusions cannot take you arguing or insulting him, it will cause him to have outbursts of anger, because this is your new life with him. it is real, he is the one for you, so why cant you see it? hes been so nice, so caring, and yet youre unappreciative.

dont worry, a few more hours of isolation will have you thinking better than before. he uses this to emphasize his care and touch, because thats all you need to know now, how his fingers feel when they cup your cheek and delicately hold you

he would love to have a quiet morning with you, him working on something in the shop and you accompanying him, talking while sharing a cup of coffee

he wants to have a life like his fathers, living up to what he did, and to be better. in short, if he feels like hes not achieving that, he will also lose it. he has a short temper, and while youre one of the only people who can ease him out of it, he cant always control himself

he has such a strong emotional attachment that he feels like he needs you to live. not like billy, where he was not as emotionally intelligent and was just clingy, but bo feels that without you he is incomplete, and to live his life he needs you in it, or else he isnt really living

he loves to see you smile and be happy, it warms his heart to know that you enjoy his company

bo can be a genuinely compassionate man, who will take you for rides or out somewhere to eat, be a romantic and loving husband, and thats what he wants to be, but he truly thinks it all relies on your behavior and how loving/into the relationship you are, because either way youre not heading home

quick note before we end this he will gaslight you, bro is the gaslighting king, he will convince you that ambrose is the place for you, and that your old friends and family cant do what he can

he'll try his hardest to impress you (shows you his muscles) and make you love him, he just wants to show off all his great qualities since you're so amazing in his eyes

Harry Warden

you stumbled into him while your friends and you were drinking in the mines, partying on valentines day night. Harry could feel his anger rise because he never got a day off, always having to be disturbed or intruded on, never having anyone to give him any pity when he deserves it all

his pickaxe dragged behind him, and as he approached your group, he eyed everyone in it. seeing as you were the closest, he'd begin the chase with you. Raising his pickaxe snd bringing it down right next to you, your head swiveled to his direction, and the look of fear on your face stunned him

truth be told he hadn't had a human interaction longer than 5 seconds without him killing them, he felt that you were somehow different. The way you were paralyzed with fear as you begged for your life made him feel something close to love that he hadn't felt for a lifetime

it wasn't like his previous killings, the rush he got when he towered over you, tilting his head down to get a better look at his newest interest

maybe you could be his reparations for valentines day all those years ago, finally getting a proper gift for being left to die

he'll let you go.. for now, until he can make a proper place for the two of you and make sure you'll be comfortable and safe. hes concerned about you having a good living and a nice place for the both of you to share the rest of your lives

really wants you to come with him willingly, dowsnt want to scare you or anything like that, so he'll drop off gifts, or disguise himself and go into town to stalk you find out what you like, and charm you better

hes typically a semi-romantic man, wanting to convince you to be with him, then cut off all contact with the outside world so that you can be in the perfect relationship hes imagined, but if push comes to shove he will drag you to youre new haven with him, literally

will see who you hangout with, who your family is, maybe he'll even research your name in any ancestry books/records, because he would just be a bad boyfriend if he knew nothing about you right?

may or may not replicate your room in the mines... just so that the transition is easier <3

eventually, you'll find out hes the one thats been making you feel like youre being watched, and was the one giving you all those gifts

so when he gets down and proposes the idea of dating, and you (presumably..) say what the fuck? he knows what he has to do, quality time in the mines!!! (forever)

once he brings you to his humble abode, he'll explain everything, he has to let you know how much he loved and needs you for his own well being, and how in time youll feel the same because youll see how great of a partner he is!

he knows these mines like the back of his hands, and would be overjoyed if you even took interest in him or asked to be toured, because in his head hes shocked about the quality time you're initiating

will let you hold his pickaxe, maybe show off how strong he is & talk about his suit

he talks and talks, finally after being left alone for years without any sorry's or nothing from the town, you come in and show him what life is all about, so of course he wants to listen and talk to you, youre the most entertaining person in the world

not only can bro not cook, but he genuinely cannot cook, he doesnt have anything to make anything with, so he uses this as an excuse to steal your favorite food and drinks to cater towards your feelings

wants to hold you and see how delicate you are, he admires you like a god(dess)

he doesnt like to be violent, he tries to avoid it, he may accidentally leave bruises from holding you too tight, but he thoroughly apologizes and tries to make it up. he doesn't wanna screw up the one 'relationship' hes ever cared about/recently had

Vincent Sinclair

you were definitely a victim brought in by lester who caught vincents eye, something about you stood out from the rest of his victims. maybe it was because of your respectful nature and not intruding on ambrose, maybe you admired the detailed wax work and complimented it, or maybe it was with your looks or social skills. either way, vincent wants to know all about you

he immediately tells his brothers that youre off limits, and states that he wants to see you better. while bo and lester dont really care, they say that they'll assist him in making sure you cant leave (as they always would)

he likes to draw/sculpt what you look like and leave it around for you to find, he thinks your beauty is on another level snd that you are a piece of art

he may be seen lurking from a distance, scared to show his face since hes nervous of rejection from someone as perfect as you are. he'll make it known that hes there, and one of his brother may tell you about him, but other than that (unless you ask) you wont see much (.... until he takes you)

leaves you gifts alot. flowers, sculptures, even some jewelry from other victims that youd like, he wants to flatter you and put out the image that hes a genuine guy, and that he pays attention to you

he pays attention to your style and what you like, adding it to his room to make it feel more like youre with him

if you have friends with you, hes most likely been plotting their deaths since the start, theyre skeptical about ambrose and are beginning to panic

he thinks they're a bad influence and could possibly get the cops called, so he tag teams with bo to take care of the problems

by this time youve most likely figured out whats been happening, so he takes his chances in knocking you out (and tenderly caring for you afterwards), and then carrying you back to his room, making sure youre nice and comfortable

he does care about you, and even now is a semi-gentle giant to you. he doesnt want to spook you more than whats already happened, he just wants you to be adjusted and not afraid

to some extent he wants to live a free-er life with you, going outside and acting 'normal', but his fear of ridicule because of his scars snd his pre-built of walls from years of bullying cause him to even be reclusive with you, the person hes infatuated with

he likes quality time, sitting with you or having you watch him as he sculpts, he likes when youre interested in his work so he can show you the process and maybe do it together

he'll sometimes slip into a mode where his feelings are amplified, and if you decide to insult him or work him up, he'll go mute and angrily pace around. sometimes grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes so he can convince himself you dont mean it

shares his clothes with you quite a lot, he thinks the value and meaning with you in his clothes is special

he'll sit with you all day, trying to make it so that you like his company more and more

this took so damn long im sorry vincents section is so small but i needed to get this out😭 i swear i love him but dawg

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ficsilike-reblogged · 8 months

Text

Invisible Smoke - Four

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he doesn’t run.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 10.9k

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I do not keep a tag list!! Life is still weird but thank you all for sticking with this little story of mine. I really appreciate all the kind words you sent on the last chapter. Only one more chapter to go!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Also, Jake is a (stubborn) simp.

Someone had slashed your tires.

Well, you shouldn’t say someone. You knew who had done it. It didn’t exactly take a doctorate to read the context clues—but you were pretty sure your insurance would drop you if you put in another claim, so you begrudgingly prepared to pay the hefty towing fee to the nearest tire shop and fork over even more cash for four new tires. This was one of the few times you wished your little bungalow actually had a garage. And god, you were so tired of this. So tired of the mind games he thought he was playing with you. He thought he was clever. But it was all just so repetitive. You had half a mind to just wait, out in the open, to let him do what he wanted just so it would be over.

It had only been two days since the dog fight football game and the following get together at the Hard Deck. Two days since you caught Jake’s eye at the water’s edge and felt your entire chest twist. He knew now. He knew what you were hiding.

You hadn’t been able to read the look in his eyes but Bradley had taken you aside before you slipped away for the night and basically told you that Jake, for better or for worse, was wanting and willing to help. “Give him a chance, Punch. Don’t you think he deserves that, at least? And you deserve to be happy.”

“When did you become a fortune cookie, Bradley?”

But you wanted to believe him. You did.

But Luke had made you glaringly aware that you weren’t really capable of having a relationship aside from a handful of hours with someone who’d forget your name by morning. You had expected to feel some sort of relief in knowing that Jake hadn’t wanted to wash his hands of you after learning about Luke, but all it did was make you feel like you were painting an even larger target on Jake’s back. He really did want to play hero, didn’t he?

You pushed the thought away as you texted Natasha, telling her you’d be late for brunch and she was quick to tell you not to worry about the tow, she’d send one of the boys to get you to the tire shop. You were expecting Bob and his reliable GMC; he’d been invited to brunch as well anyway.

But a familiar Ford F-250 pulled up instead and Jake stepped out of the cab, looking like a GQ model in a tight Henley and jeans that hugged his thighs a little too well to be fair. He looked at your car and your destroyed tires for just a moment before turning his gaze to you. Your heart gave an answering leap but you tried to not let it show and rolled your shoulders back as he took wide strides toward you.

“Did he do anything else? Did you check your windows-”

“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even pretend to think of a more polite greeting.

Jake arched an eyebrow before setting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s just too damn bad, Punch. I am here and I’m not leaving until you tell me what's going on. Now, did anything else happen?”

You wanted to send him away. Wanted to keep him safe. But he was here. He was here and looking at you with those stupidly beautiful green eyes. “It’s just the tires,” you muttered, giving in. At least in this regard. You could handle everything else later.

Jake’s mouth set in a thin line before he moved to look at your tires again. He dug at one of the tears, the edge of his finger easily passing through the ruined rubber. “Jesus.”

Perhaps you should have been surprised when he turned back to the bed of his truck and pulled out a tire and then another and another until four new tires were stacked neatly beside your car. But you had a feeling Jake would always be three steps ahead of you. Infuriating.

“Please tell me you didn’t buy me new tires.”

“All right. I won’t tell you that.”

“Seresin, you can’t be serious. Tell me how much I owe you.”

Jake leaned forward just enough to steal the keys from your hands and popped open your trunk before handing them back. “I don’t want your money.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” you retorted as you followed him to the back of your car. “Tires are expensive! I can afford it. Just let me pay you! You’re already saving me money by not making me take a tow truck. And I might actually make it to brunch on time because of you, too. If you don’t give me an amount, I’ll have to guess.”

Jake moved the mat in your trunk and found your jack and tire iron and then gently grasped your hand that you’d set on the lip of your trunk and moved it before closing it. He then tugged you closer with that damn dimpled smirk and stared down at you with his stupid green eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”

“I will shove money into your pockets at the most inopportune moments and ruin every conquest you set your eyes on.”

But the threat fell flat as Jake’s smirk widened. “So, you’re planning on sticking your hands down my pants…repeatedly?”

Heat washed over you in an angry wave and you pulled your hands out from under his with a grimace instead of a snarl. “Only you would say something like that.”

His smirk continued as he stepped back and set the jack beneath your car and started to twist. “I’m not taking your money.”

“I’m paying for your drinks at the Hard Deck forever.”

“No.”

As he twisted the jack, your eyes were drawn (inevitably) to how his sleeves strained with his moving muscles. That shirt was fighting for its life and you were ogling him like a piece of meat (again). This whole situation was ridiculous! The man who’d tried to kill you twice had slashed your tires and you were flirting (possibly, maybe) with Jake like you didn’t have a care in the world. All of this was wrong. And incredibly stupid.

“Whatever. I’ll do what I want,” you lamely replied, hoping it sounded stronger than it felt.

“I’m sure you will, Punch.” Each word was dripping with something you couldn’t and wouldn’t name and you hated that Jake was able to easily have you smiling when he was there to fix a problem you created.

The tires were changed out within an hour and you invited Jake inside for a glass of water and asked if he wanted to tag along to brunch, it was the last you could do, right?

“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“You’re not intruding. Bob’ll be there, too.” The brunch had been an impromptu plan anyway, cobbled together while you’d worked on Natasha and Bob’s jet and listened to Maverick and Cyclone berate the Top Gun students who had started another fight on the tarmac (apparently having learned nothing from the dog fight football games). You’d just been happy your pilots hadn’t been caught in the crossfire this time.

Jake looked at you over his half-finished glass of water and you had to keep yourself from shrinking away from his gaze. His glass clinked against the linoleum as he finished and you tried not to notice how he licked his lips free of the last few droplets of water. “So?” You pushed out, trying to keep your voice level. “Wanna come along?”

Jake’s silence turned at something in your stomach and Bradley’s not-at-all true observation was echoing at the back of your mind before Jake’s smirk returned. “You’re going to try to pay for brunch, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t even thought about it but… “Well, I invited you, so-”

“No.”

You groaned, snatching the glass from him and setting it in your dishwasher as Jake chuckled behind you. “You’re being a child.”

Jake rounded the corner, pushing further into the kitchen behind you, and crossed his arms over his chest (and no you weren’t looking at his arms again). “Why won’t you let me do anything nice for you?”

You frowned and matched his stance and crossed your arms, too. “I let you do nice things. You came with me to Junior’s party with me.”

“After you drove me there and tried to have me take credit for your gift and you introduced me to that group of brass to help me with my career.”

“That was a coincidence.”

“But you still did it.” He stepped closer and you hated that it was instinctual to take a step back, too. “Want to tell me why everything I do for you has to be reciprocal?”

That wasn’t the question you were expecting and your fingernails dug into the meat of your arm as you tried to keep your face neutral. “There’s give and take to everything. And I… You should just let me pay you.”

“I’m not gonna let you pay me, Punch. And you’re going to learn that not everything is a give and take. Who taught you that, anyway?”

God. You hated this. You hated these questions and the soft look in his eyes. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Jake scoffed.

“Why?”

You could see Jake’s jaw clench, tendons working and tightening. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. He just shook his head and the tense silence in the kitchen continued to stretch until it was finally broken by Jake’s next question. “Are we ever going to talk about it?”

And you knew what he was asking. And you wanted to hate that he was connecting dots that you had tried to erase. “What is there to say? You know everything now.”

“I heard it from Rooster, not you. It is your story, Punch.”

“Rooster knows it just as well as I do, I think,” you muttered with a shrug, trying not to shrink away from him. “What else is there for you to know?”

Jake stepped forward, enveloping you in the scent of his expensive cologne and tinge of jet fuel that seemed to cling to him as he closed the distance to stand at your side and brush his arm against yours. “I want to know everything. Haven’t I told you that?”

You gnawed at your lip for a moment before stepping away from the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Luke was an asshole then and he’s an asshole now. I should’ve seen the signs, I get that. I do. But he was so good when he wanted to be. And after being an afterthought for most of my life, it was nice to pretend that someone was choosing me.” This was just pathetic. Stop talking. Stop talking. If he hadn’t thought of washing his hands of you before, he was surely doing it now.

“What do you mean you were an afterthought?”

You rolled your shoulders and turned just enough to look at him before glancing at the little clock above your oven. “Doesn’t matter now. But, if we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll probably beat Natasha and Bob to brunch. So, are you coming?”

The ride was mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant Phoenix had picked overlooking the water. But Jake knew you were thinking about telling him something else as you sat in his passenger seat, watching the road pass your window. So, he just told himself to be patient. Again. It was a bright spot to finally know what you looked like in his truck. God knows he’s imagined it more than he’d like to admit, like some lovesick teenager.

You were picking at your cuticles without taking your eyes off the passing scenery. Jake had never seen you nervous, not like this. Even when the Daggers had to ship out for a short deployment and you had to watch them all take off from the carrier, you didn’t act like this. He watched you lean forward just a bit and your eyes narrowed and then it clicked. You weren’t watching the world go by—you were keeping an eye on the cars following the truck in the side view mirror. You were making sure Luke wouldn’t try to run you off the road again.

Jake looked in the rear view mirror and saw sedans, coupes, and a handful of SUVs, and a smaller number of trucks. But not a single black charger. It was clear for now. But you still picked at your cuticles and didn’t peel your eyes from the window.

Jake reached out and set a hand over yours, stilling your picking. You jumped under the touch and Jake curled his fingers over yours a little tighter, trying to anchor you to something else a little less destructive. “We’re okay, Punch, all right?”

You looked at him and Jake hated that he had to look at the road for safety purposes when you searched his face for something. “For now,” you said in return, once again turning to look out at the cars.

Jake squeezed your hand again and didn’t let go even as you muttered the next handful of directions to the restaurant. He awkwardly shifted into park and took the keys out of the ignition after finding a spot in the steadily filling lot. Your shoulders were slumped as you turned back to him, face unreadable except for the pinch between your brows that he wanted to smooth with a brush of his thumb.

(Maybe one day.)

“All right. We’re gonna go in there, eat our weight in overpriced waffles and then I’m going to take you home and double check your windows and locks. Okay?”

Your eyes swept up to look up at him and Jake felt that familiar warmth starting to unfurl in his chest. Your thumb swept over his knuckles but he wasn’t sure if you were aware you were even doing it. “I can’t afford to buy you your weight in waffles.”

Jake barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not going to buy me brunch. Stop trying.” He had to bite back the pleased smile he felt growing when he heard your gasp after he raised your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“You are ridiculous.” Your voice was tight as it wheedled out from between your lips before you (slowly) pulled your hand from his and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. We need to get on the list.”

The air was tinged with the scent of sea salt and syrup as he followed you into the glass and metal building, already teeming with people. You were quick to give your name and group size to the hostess who said it would probably be a fifteen minute wait. Just as you turned to grab one of the oddly shaped bar stools near the door to it for your name to be called, Phoenix was striding in, too. She pushed her sunglasses up her hair before sweeping you into a hug with a loud kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d beat me here.” Then her dark eyes dragged to Jake as he stood behind you. “Hangman. What’re you doing here?”

“He drove me,” you said. “I figured it would be fine.”

“Of course it is,” Phoenix said, waving it away but Jake knew the gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t quite finished. “You two arrived together?” She asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jake.

“Ken fixed my tires. Figured I could treat him to brunch as a thank you.”

Jake had to groan at that, knocking his hand into your hip and earring a halfhearted swat at his arm in retaliation. “I told you, you’re not paying for me.”

Phoenix hummed and anchored her gaze on Jake and he fought the urge to stand a little straighter. “Yeah. That was awful nice of him. When you told me that the neighbor kid slashed your tires, I thought Hangman would be a gentleman and drive you to the tire shop. Not fix them himself.”

Neighbor kid. You had lied to Phoenix? Granted, her text had just said that your tires had been slashed and that you’d needed help—it wasn’t exactly filled with details. Jake had assumed that she had known. But that didn’t matter now and he plastered his well-used smirk on his face. “Well, I’m a-”

“Don’t stroke your own ego, Bagman.” She then glanced at something over his shoulder and smiled. “Bob just got here. Bob!” She threw up a hand to grab the WSO’s attention and he jogged toward the group when he spotted her. He nearly collided with a waitress and they both apologized—profusely—before going their separate ways. By the time Bob reached their little group, his face was a vibrant and familiar shade of red.

“Nearly swept that pretty girl off her feet, Baby on Board.” Jake braced for the hit he knew was coming and winced when Phoenix’s fist collided with his arm.

The group was seated soon after and Jake had to bite back a grumble when Bob was the one to pull out your chair for you when you reached the table. When Jake went to do the same to Phoenix, she hit him again.

Bob was nearly the shade of a strawberry when he realized the woman he’d nearly bowled over would be your waitress and nearly dropped his silverware roll when he noticed her striding over to the table. Food was ordered—both you and Jake ordered waffles while Phoenix wanted to try the brioche French toast and Bob wanted eggs Benedict with steak—and mimosas (and pineapple juice for Bob) were poured as Phoenix regaled the table with her run-in with a guy at the gym on base. The Ensign hadn’t realized Phoenix a) outranked him and b) wasn’t interested in bulging muscles and whatever the younger man could(n’t) provide. The interaction ended when Phoenix “politely” challenged him to a friendly competition to see who could handle more weight while doing hip thrusters. Phoenix started out with thirty pounds more than him and he called her a dyke so she had him barred from the gym and probably had a meeting with his commanding officers on Monday, too.

You giggled and tipped your mimosa flute into Phoenix’s before you both took a sip. It was good to see you smile like that.

The waitress came by a few minutes later with the food and she was quick to divvy up the plates but Jake watched her make sure Bob’s was the last plate and she stood at his side and carefully set it down, making sure to bend down just enough to brush against his arm. “Careful, the plate is hot,” she practically purred.

(Phoenix quickly had Jake’s laugh turning into a poorly disguised cough when she sent him a look across the table.)

“I’ll be careful. I can handle it.”

Then the waitress actually giggled and stood straight, setting her hand on Bob’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m sure you can. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” She then turned and walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips which Bob completely missed because he was busy unrolling his silverware.

The group watched him as he carefully cut into his meal and shoved a bite between his lips. He went to take another when he noticed the stares. “What?”

“Robert,” you started, voice strained to avoid a giggle. “She was flirting with you.”

His fork froze before it reached his mouth.”No, she wasn’t. She told me the plate was hot.”

Phoenix reached over and patted her back seater’s shoulder. “Oh, Bob.”

The other man’s blush returned and he shoved the bite between his lips. “How is telling me that the plate is hot flirting?”

Jake shook his head and fought a smile of his own. “Listen, do you like her?”

Bob chanced a glance at the waitress at the hostess booth and immediately ducked his head when she caught him and wagged her fingers at him with a wink. “She’s beautiful.”

“But?” Jake prodded, hearing a slight hesitation. He had always been good at reading people (you were an exception), and Jake had played therapist to a handful of the Daggers since he proved he could be someone other than Hangman. He wanted Bob to be happy.

“But I don’t know. She looks like she’d eat me alive.” He fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else?”

Jake was the one who shifted the conversation to the insufferable group of Top Gun pilots that would thankfully be leaving soon enough. A friendly bet was placed on who everyone thought would actually get the trophy and Jake tried not to smile too much when Bob knocked his foot into his as a quiet thank you and you, seemingly unaware of Bob’s quiet gratitude, set your hand over Jake’s arm for a moment in your own show of appreciation. As soon as it happened, it was gone again.

That was okay. Jake was determined to have it happen again.

Brunch continued on and finished after another round of drinks and splitting a funnel cake that the waitress insisted they try. Jake was sure the woman pouted after not receiving Bob’s phone number when he signed his check but he wouldn’t mention it. Jake liked this strange bit of normalcy. With you. He even if both Bob and Phoenix made vague threats against his life if he hurt you. Jake was determined to have more of these moments with you. Even if you grumbled about Jake hustling to get to the truck before you so he could open your door.

The tension in the cab on the way to brunch was absent now and Jake didn’t even care when you teased him about his choice in radio stations—calling him a cliche for listening to early Tim McGraw. But you said it with a laugh and Jake had to laugh, too. He liked that it was you who brought up Bob and his interactions with the waitress.

“I want Bob to be happy. And he’s mentioned once or twice that he’d like to have a family.”

Jake thought for a moment before the perfect person popped into his thoughts. “I know a girl.”

“No, you don’t. I don’t trust your taste in women.”

And Jake had to laugh at that. Had to. You were his taste in women. But the person he had in mind for Bob would be perfect. “She’s a CPA. Wears glasses. And she only drinks ginger ale despite helping Penny with the Hard Deck’s taxes. And she’s the only person outside of Texas that I trust with my tax return.”

Your face scrunched and Jake knew you were thinking it over. “Just because they both wear glasses and have an affinity for Seagram’s doesn’t mean they’d be a good match.”

“Just trust me. It might take a minute to get her to look him in the eye-”

“She’s shy?”

“So shy. It’s adorable. And just what Baby on Board needs.”

You scowled at him but he knew you didn’t really mean it when you knocked your shoulder into his over the center console a moment later. He eventually pulled into your driveway and threw the truck into park before turning to you but you were scrambling out of your seat and up to your front door before he could even get a word in edgewise.

Oh.

Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever been rejected as soundly as that before. But then he saw you waving him forward from your front stoop and Jake nearly clocked himself in the face with the seatbelt buckle as he hurried to follow you inside. He shut your door behind him, engaging just two out of the five locks as you hurried toward something just down the hall.

“Punch?”

“Just a moment!” You yelled in return.

Jake resisted the urge to settle on the couch again, like he’d done weeks ago. Everything seemed different now. You weren’t trying to push him away and he could hear you shuffling something in the other room and he was suddenly struck with a daydream of coming home to you, waiting for you to notice his presence and smiling when you saw him. “You’re home!” As soon as the vision came, it was gone, and Jake shook himself a little as if that would help him forget what he’d conjured up. What he’d wanted since the moment you first called him Ken, even if he never admitted it out loud.

You walked back into the living room and slapped something down onto the small table you had lining the back of your couch.

“Whatcha got there, Punch?”

Your answering smile was all teeth, like a cat who got the cream and Jake saw that it was a fifty dollar bill as it peeked from between your fingers. “Well, I added up how many miles it is from base, to my house, to the restaurant, then back to my house and then guessed on how many miles you get per gallon. And, you use premium gas, right? Either way, this should be enough for gas, but if you use diesel, this should cover it.” You slapped another fifty atop the first after pulling it from your back pocket.

Jake looked at the stack of cash and then back at you before he sighed, a long put-upon sigh that he knew was obnoxious but it was worth it when he heard you try to stifle a laugh. God. You were relentless.

“First, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re awful at math. Like, so bad.”

“Hey!”

“And second, I’m still not taking your money.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“I’m being a friend, Punch. Friends drive each other around and help them when they need it. And I’m willing to bet-“

“I’ll take that bet.”

Jake continued on, ignoring you, “-that you wouldn’t expect to be paid back if our places were switched.”

You pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment and drummed your fingers against the money. “I lost that bet. Guess you’ll have to take the money.”

Jake groaned but he could feel a laugh starting to bubble in his chest. “You’re impossible.”

It was too soon to call this a victory, but you were sure you were closing in on one. He would take the money and then you could pretend to feel fine about everything he’d done for you. Sure.

“Actually, I have something you could do if you’re so hellbent on paying me back.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was unlocking your door and jogging out to his truck and pulling something out, tucking it behind his back as he returned. “Can you sign this for me?”

Then he dropped a purple book in your hand and your stomach dropped to your feet as you looked at the gold lettering across the cover. “You snooped!” You said, too embarrassed to be angry. You held the book up to your chest as if that would guard you from his knowing look or the embarrassment starting to churn your stomach.

“You knew I would! Why’re you surprised?” His smile was back and he took a step toward you. You took a responding step back until he was crowding you against your bookshelf, hands landing on the shelves on either side of your shoulders. And it could have been a threatening stance, an unnerving cage, but all you felt was safe. Safe as he blotted out the rest of the world and it was just you and him and your books in the quiet of your home.

You should not feel like this, you knew that. It was stupid and dangerous and you couldn’t stop it. What had happened to your resolve that you had just yesterday for keeping him at arm's length?

Your fingers drummed against the paperback and you hurriedly flipped it open when your eyes tracked down to his mouth. Oh. “Should I sign it ‘To Ken?’ Or-”

“Could you actually sign it for my sister Mia? She reads your books in her book club.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. That was…that was actually really nice to know. You knew people read your books; Danny had framed a newspaper clipping showing your second book reaching a top ten spot one of the Best Sellers lists and had gifted it to you for your last birthday. They were mildly popular, you knew that. But to actually be confronted with the fact that someone you vaguely knew was reading your books was something else. You reached back and grabbed one of the pens you kept in a cup on the shelf. “Mia? She’s your oldest sister, right?” A quick glance up at Jake had your heart twisting. His look was too soft. Too happy.

“Yeah, Punch. That’s her.”

You took the time to write your pseudonym with extra flair and then added a heart next to Mia’s name, too. “Is this for her birthday or anything?”

“She’s…” Jake paused for a moment. “She’s just going through a rough patch right now. Your books make her smile.”

The pen stalled on the page for just a moment before you shoved at his chest to get him to back up just enough to grab at your ARC for your newest book and quickly scrawled, Wishing you expensive champagne and good memories! Happy reading! You then signed your name again and added a half dozen hearts next to Mia’s name at the top of the page. You slapped both books against Jake’s chest with a frown. “That book hasn’t been released yet, so I may get in a bit of trouble with my publisher if she tells anyone.”

Jake’s hands covered yours on the books and the toe of his shoe knocked into your socked feet as he moved closer, dragging your attention back to his stupidly handsome face again. “She won’t tell anyone but I know I’ll probably get an earful about how I got them.” His thumbs brushed against your knuckles and you would swear that you could feel it behind your ribs. “Where’d you get that name anyway?”

You almost snorted at the way he phrased that question, like you found it on the side of a cereal box. “My parents were obsessed with Stephen King—they actually met at a book club specifically for King’s books. My sister, Georgie, was named after the kid who got their arm ripped off at the beginning of It. And my brother, Danny, is named after the kid in The Shining, Danny Torrance.”

“And you? I don’t think I’ve read your name in his books.”

It was a fair enough question. King had dozens of books and Jake didn’t seem like the type to clamor for the newest release. “I was named by my grandparents after they discovered the reasoning behind my sister’s name. If my parents wanted to stay in the will, I had to have a name they picked. Of course, when my brother was born, my parents picked something a little more innocuous so they wouldn’t rock the boat again. But, anyway, to actually answer your question; I took my siblings’ names as a sort of thank you to them. Georgie became Georgia and I took Danny’s literary counterpart’s last name. And Georgia Torrance was born. I wrote most of my books when I had downtime on deployments. I took a chance and sent it off to an agent and I got a nice contract with a moderately respectable publishing house. It isn’t Stephen King money by any means, but I can upgrade my plane ticket to Business Class if I wanted to once or twice a year.”

“Your parents must’ve gotten a kick out of that.”

You tried to fight the sigh you felt growing in your throat but lost. You also lost the wherewithal to keep a single secret from him. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to them.”

“What?”

“After Danny got sick, all of their attention was on him, which I understand. I do. But I was still just a kid who needed her parents every once in a while. But it was like I ceased to exist to them until they remembered I could help with the hospital bills. Georgie was already out of the house and getting her degree and would call but it wasn’t the same. I kinda gave up on having a relationship with my parents after they forgot about my rowing meet and I waited to be picked up for three hours before eventually just walking home.”

“Punch-”

And once you started, you couldn’t stop, like a can of pop shaken and bursting. “Danny was hooked up to like six different machines and was high off his ass and he apologized for all the…all the bullshit. I told him it was unnecessary. He was sick. I’m just happy he’s healthy again.”

God. You really knew how to ruin every moment, didn’t you?

Jake set the books on the shelf just beside your shoulder but was quick to lean over you again and you hated how Jake really was a certifiable blueprint for a romantic literary hero. You could write a single description of him in your next book and you’d know it would skyrocket to the top of the Best Sellers lists but you had been actively avoiding trying to piece together a story from your life. And, as if he knew you were debating something, the bastard actually propped his other arm up on the bookcase and leaned over you. Oh god. He was doing the lean and was going to ask you something about your fucked up childhood.

Shit.

Alarm bells were ringing in your head, letting you know that this moment could be disastrous. So, you decided to not let it go on any longer. “Jesus. Sorry. I really know how to kill a good time, huh? I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time for the day. Let me know what Mia thinks of the books, okay?”

You ducked beneath his arm, intent on leading him to the door, but Jake grasped your hand and pulled you to a stop. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that again. Don’t shut me out. I’m happy you feel like you can tell me stuff like that, that you’re comfortable enough to trust me with that. Don’t pull away again. Not from me.”

You knew that if you looked at him right now, his green eyes would be wide and pleading. So, you just didn’t look. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Jake.”

“Doing what?” He asked softly, as softly as his hand on yours.

“Buying me tires? Driving me around? Being…being this fucking nice to me all the time when I’ve only been a dick to you?” You asked as you felt your chin wobble. “Why?”

Jake was quiet for a moment. Just a moment. “You know why.”

“No! No, I don’t because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence because then it was real, it would be real and you didn’t know how to deal with that again. You looked up at him and tried to remember what you were protecting him from. Pulling your hand out of his, you set your hands on your hips. “Because you can’t.”

Jake’s shoulders rolled before his lips set in a thin line. “I do. And I know you feel the same.”

You scoffed and tried to ignore the warmth in your chest that he was right. He felt the same. Wouldn’t that just be the worst? “You really think that highly of yourself? You’re so sure that I-”

Jake leaned closer and the rest of your argument stalled. You could smell the mint on his breath from the stupid toothpick he was chewing on in the truck just beneath the warmth of his cologne. God. He was intoxicating. You almost hated him for a moment because every ounce of fight you had drained out of you. “Ken.”

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He moved closer. Closer. Closer.

His warm hand skirted up your arm until it settled against the gentle arc of muscle between your neck and shoulder and the other settled on your hip. You could feel each of his fingers pressing into your skin like a brand. Every breath he took brushed against your mouth and you licked your lips without a thought as he leaned even closer.

“Last chance.” You could feel his smile against your mouth, growing with each syllable.

And you had to smile. Had to because he was your Ken and this felt inevitable. Jake was inevitable. “Do your worst.”

He kissed you and it was instantly all consuming. Surely, he could feel your smile, too. You actually laughed against his mouth as your hands pressed against his chest. Jake pulled back just enough for you to see his smile before he kissed you again, catching your bottom lip between his and tugging to have you gasping. His stupid, perfect teeth nipped at the skin and he was quick to soothe the sting with a flick of his tongue.

Then you were moving backward, guided by his gentle movements, until your spine went flat against the wall beside your bookshelves. The kiss was all smiling lips and searching tongues as Jake held you tight. Everything was warm and tinged with the mint on his tongue and Jake Jake Jake.

His thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw and he sighed against your panting mouth. “So fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and you could feel it curling in your stomach.

But your entire body seized when you felt his hand move to wrap around your throat as his mouth continued to work against yours. You couldn’t help it; you flinched. The kiss ended abruptly as you pulled back despite you not wanting it to end. But it couldn’t be helped. Not yet. You watched an array of emotions flash across Jake’s face before it settled on despair.

“Fuck.” The single syllable was wrenched from his throat as he took a step back and his hands fell back to his sides and left you cold. “Fuck, Punch, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I-”

“W-wait…I just…” How could you even phrase this without sounding unhinged? “I just need a moment.” Your next breath rattled in your lungs but you still reached for his hand and raised it again, moving it just enough for his fingers to encircle your throat once more. The roughened planes and angles of his hand had you shivering but you managed to drag your eyes up to his and tried to not show how nervous you actually felt. “It… you can, if you want. I’d actually prefer to have some good memories of something like this instead of-”

The rest of your rambling was cut off as his lips pressed against yours. The grip on your throat grew a little more insistent, a little heavier, but nothing stronger than just a simple weight, an anchor at your pulse. His other hand smoothed up your arm to curl over your cheek just as he pried your lips apart, delving into your mouth to steal the building whine from your throat.

Your heart hammered behind your ribs as you felt the warmth of Jake’s hand bleed through your shirt as his palm brushed the side of your chest. He moved forward and your legs instinctively parted to accommodate the thigh he was shoving between yours and your next breath caught in your throat when the denim brushed against the crux of your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hissed when Jake’s lips seared a path across your cheek and down your throat to bite at your thrumming pulse. You hadn’t even remembered when your hands had dropped to wrinkle his shirt again but you still pulled him closer as every nerve ending sparked. And then-

“Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!”

Immediately, you pulled away from Jake with a grimace as ABBA’s song continued to fill the air. “Oh Jesus, that’s Natasha’s ringtone. She never calls.” You ducked beneath his arm for the second time tonight and pulled your phone off its perch on the kitchen counter and answered it as you heard Jake sigh. Turning to look at him, you saw his head drop to his chest for a moment before standing straight again and following in your footsteps toward the kitchen.

“I asked Rooster out and I think he thinks it is just as a friends thing and I want to bash my head against the wall.” Tasha screeched, words running together in a rush. She continued on, explaining that somehow she and Bradley had been roped into helping Penny restock the Hard Deck before opening today and Natasha had (finally) acted on her (reciprocated) feelings after Rooster had been his usually flirty self the entire time and then dragged Natasha to the piano and made her sing along to Elton John’s Your Song. Jesus.

You looked over at Jake to see him looking at you with another soft look on his face and a bit of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.

He waved it away before stealing a quick kiss, too, that had your heart rate picking up again.

“Punch? You there?”

You pushed out a breath and shook your head as you pressed a hand to Jake’s chin, keeping him from doing it again. You could feel his self satisfied smirk against your fingers. “Yeah. I’m here. And, um, I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised with Bradley. He’s probably picking out his nicest Hawaiian shirt in preparation.”

Tasha groaned but you had to smile because Jake nipped at your fingers. “You think?”

“I do. It is gonna be great. I know it.”

She sighed, crackling the line, but eventually agreed. “He can’t be that oblivious right?” She asked, making you both laugh. “Also, don’t think I’m forgetting about you and Hangman coming to brunch together. We’re gonna talk on Monday.”

“You don’t forget anything, Tasha. I’m well aware.”

You eventually said your goodbyes after promising her you would talk to her on Monday and then dropped your phone on the counter again and your hand from Jake’s mouth.

“I never thought you’d be a tease.” His tone let you know he was joking but you also could have guessed with the smirk pushing at his mouth, too.

Your jaw dropped for a moment before an embarrassed giggle rippled out of you. “I said I was sorry! I was worried!” Biting your lip as you looked at him, you shook your head. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“It was quite the moment, huh?” His smirk had fallen to a soft smile despite his self assured words.

“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t even want to tease him now but then a small voice whispered at the back of your mind that it wasn’t a moment to him. After all, who would want-

“Steak or seafood?” He asked, knocking the rest of your thoughts right out of your head.

“What?”

“I have a list of restaurants that I want to take you to, if you’re willing to let me pay and bring you flowers.” The usual bravado that bled through all of his words wavered now. Was he nervous?

“Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date, Ken.”

“I’m trying here, Punch. So? Steak or seafood.”

Hope and happiness were blooming and twisting and growing within the confines of your ribs now. He wanted to take you out on a date. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” was all you could say through your smile.

“Steak it is. I’ll update my list when I get home.” He reached out and swept his thumb across the slope of your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch a little more. Jake seemed content to just hold your face in his hand for a moment before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I should go. I want to do this right with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to wine and dine you, darlin’. Want to earn those lips of yours again,” he said as his thumb moved to press at the heated skin of your bottom lip. “You deserve it. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”

For just a moment, you worried that Jake would hear how hard your heart was beating. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. “Oh.”

This was different. Jake was different. You just had to give him permission to show you.

“I’d like that.”

He smiled and stepped back, hand dropping back to his side. “You’re a good friend to Phoenix, by the way. Bradshaw, too.”

You smiled again. “They’re good to me. All of you have been.” Slowly, you herded him toward the door, knowing he had a plan.

He stopped at the door, just after you undid the locks. “Does Phoenix know?”

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously in the Navy as a woman. She had her own battles, Luke was mine. I always thought she was so strong and, for a while, I thought she’d just see me as weak if she knew what I’d put up with. But I know now that is an unfair thought. Tasha is and always has been one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. I should tell her, right? And maybe I will, after all of this is over. I don’t…I don’t want anyone else I care about to be wrapped up in this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” And you tried to ignore the sinking feeling that you had once again put Jake in Luke’s crosshairs.

But this time had to be different. It had to be.

Jake shook his head and cupped his hands at the back of your head before touching his forehead to yours. “We’re going to finish this, okay? We will.”

You nodded and smiled despite it all when he pressed another quick kiss to your forehead—it was like he couldn’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t about to complain. “Get home safe, Ken.”

You watched him get into his truck and waved as he pulled out and you knew he was telling you to lock your doors through the windshield. Your phone rang again just as he disappeared down the road and you knew by the way Jerry Lewis blared that it was now Bradley calling.

It had only been two days since Jake kissed you and had promised you a date. Two days and it was like the entirety of Top Gun was trying to keep you apart. You barely saw each other after he got roped into helping Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson into looking over the files of the next hopeful batch of aviators who could be called to San Diego. But it was fine. Sure. It wasn’t as if you could walk in holding his hand; you were still in the Navy and there were still protocols and rules you needed to follow. You had a feeling you and Jake would be breaking a lot of them.

You were kept busy with repairing Harvard’s jet after he managed to land safely after a bird strike. Your lunch breaks and evenings were spent talking to either Natasha or Bradley about their upcoming date-not-date while not revealing that you knew what the other was thinking. You did, however, mention to Bradley that Rueben and Mickey had started a betting pool about how long it would take Bradley to admit who he was in love with after Mickey spotted him with a pad of paper during lunch which was apparently filled with a speech about loving someone for years. You then spent the next hour workshopping the speech he was going to say to Natasha. It was beautiful and heartfelt and filled with analogies you tried to trim down (gently). He was still, annoyingly, assuming that their dinner on Wednesday was not a date in Natasha’s eyes but he was still going to try to confess his feelings and hope for the best.

You knew he’d be over the moon with how Natasha would react.

As Wednesday bled into Thursday, you were nearly dead on your feet but you’d been watching Natasha and Bradley all day, trying to decipher how their date had gone by their body language. You drove home that night without many answers but your phone rang just before you pulled down your street and quickly answered when Natsha’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello?”

“He said he’s in love with me!”

“Hello, Tasha. How are you? I’ve had a great day. How was yours?”

“Oh, shut up!” She laughed. “I’m freaking out! He said he was in love with me—has been for years, apparently—and all I did was kiss him afterward. That’s not fair, right? I also need to have a speech. I can’t let him win this. I want to do a PowerPoint.” You had to mute your phone at that so she wouldn’t hear you snort. Everything was a competition. “Do you have that picture of me and him from Mav’s birthday last year?”

“I do,” you said, knowing exactly which one she was referencing. It was of Bradley and Natasha at the piano. Bradley had just led everyone through a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Mav and there was still a flush on his cheeks. Natasha was right next to him in a stunning blue dress and smiling at him. It was the picture you promised to yourself that you would show at their wedding. You rushed inside, pinning the phone between your ear and shoulder and hurriedly shut the door behind you before darting toward your bedroom without bothering to turn on any of the lights—you said you’d drop it off at her apartment as soon as you’d found it. You were going to be in and out. You flopped onto your stomach, overturning the small mountain of pillows you had at the headboard, before grabbing at the storage container beneath the bed frame. You hauled it up and onto the bed and flipped the lid. To your chagrin, your “filing” system was essentially nonexistent when it came to photos and you started to sift through them as Natasha continued to talk, telling you about the date she’d planned and laughing about how much Bradley had stumbled over his speech.

God, it was so nice just to hear her laugh. They were going to be happy together. You knew it.

A door opened and closed slowly in the distance—your neighbor must’ve finally sprayed his door with WD-40 because it didn’t creak. Good. It only took him three years. But your heart nearly stopped when you heard your neighbor’s door open a few seconds later and its distinctive creak filled the night air. Something thumped down the hall and your spine went rigidly straight, still holding the phone to your ear as blood roared in your ears. You hadn’t locked the door. You had been inside for less than five minutes and you hadn’t thought it was necessary–you would have been leaving again soon anyway.

But you should have taken the time. A careless, stupid mistake.

The noise came again and sat up on bed, spilling the pictures in your hold onto your blankets. “Punch?” Natasha asked, pulling your focus. “You still there?”

“I…I think there’s someone in my house,” you whispered. Every part of your body was telling you to run. Right now. But where could you? Your house had one door and the person was in your living room.

Natasha was quiet for just a moment before whispering, “I’m gonna call the cops, okay? You hide.”

“N-no,” you hissed. “Don’t hang up. Stay with me.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay on the line with you, but-”

The line went dead with three terrible beeps and you wrenched the phone away from your ear to see ‘Call Lost - Try Again?’ written across the screen. No matter how many times you tried to call or text, nothing went through. The little icon at the top where you usually saw the lines denoting your network was now just a terrible X. The network was either down or whoever had come into your house had turned on a jammer. And you knew which was more plausible—but god, you had never wished for a network outage more.

Slowly, you slid off the bed and into the hall just as you heard the distinctive sound of a boot hitting the corner of your coffee table. Someone was in your house.

Mia had loved the books. Apparently her book club had ooh’d and ahh’d over the signed book but she had, as Jake knew she would, kept the copy of your newest book a secret but had rattled off her opinions to Jake. “And I can’t believe you know her!” She squawked on the other end of the line. It had been so good to hear the smile in his sister’s voice again. It was priceless. Jake had also evaded any questions as to who you were–it wasn’t his secret to tell–but he hoped that you’d be the one to tell Mia sooner rather than later.

It had been a good day. For the most part, anyway. He would have preferred to have had more than just a small smile and wave from you for the last few days, but he could be patient.

When Jake’s phone chirped with a new message, he’d expected something from Javy, keeping him up to date about the conversation he was hoping to have with his girlfriend’s father. The ring Jake had helped Javy pick out was burning a hole in his pocket and Jake hoped that his best friend would be able to plan a cool as fuck bachelor party and then make sure the whole wedding goes smoothly.

And maybe he could ask you to be his date. He could dance with you and make you smile and-

Any happy thought he had evaporated when he looked at his phone.

Someone broke into Punch’s house! I’m calling the cops!

Jake was in his truck before he could even think to type out a response and sped toward your house as the group chat started to explode with a barrage of texts he didn’t read. He knew who had broken in. There was only one possible answer.

Jake just hoped he’d get there in time.

You needed to get out of the house…or at least get to something you could use as a weapon. The baseball bat you kept near the bookshelves could work, right? Slipping further down the hall, you tried to tell yourself that you could get out of this.

Creak.

You clapped a hand over your mouth as you pressed your spine to the wall, trying to quiet your breathing.

Step.

He was in your kitchen. You knew the sound of hard soled shoes on the uneven tiles. Could you make a run for it? Could you trap him in the laundry room? That had to be your only option. You turned the corner into your living room and your stomach fell to your feet.

Luke was standing in your kitchen. Knife in hand. Waiting for you. He looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. His brown hair was still cropped short. His brown eyes were still narrowed and cold. His clothes were rumpled designer brands. He hadn’t changed. And that was terrifying.

You dove for the baseball bat, curling your hands around it before you turned and swung blindly. The bat cracked against his arm and Luke yelled, low and guttural as he staggered backward for a moment. But then he was lunging forward and grasping at the bat to wrench it out of your hands. He threw it across the living room and it smacked against the wall, shattering the glass in two frames before knocking them to the floor with a terrible crack. You couldn’t go for it again. There was no way past him now.

You should have aimed for his head.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”

You cringed at the nickname but didn’t take your eyes off the knife in his hand.

Luke didn’t wait for an answer to his question before barreling on. “And look what you’ve done. Got all those nice pins on your shirt, moving up in the ranks, and…” he paused as a smirk slithered across this mouth, “you got my dad’s money. A nice little nest egg.You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? And you didn’t have to work for any of it.”

He took a step forward and you took one back, ankle colliding with your coffee table.

“And what about me? I’m so glad you asked!” He snarled. “I’ve been dishonorably discharged. And you want to know why?”

“I had nothing to do with that, Luke. W-we had an agreement, remember? I keep my mouth shut and you…you were supposed to stay away from me.”

Luke’s tongue clicked against his teeth before he waved the knife. “You had everything to do with it. That LoA in my file was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could’ve been given another chance if you had just kept your mouth shut when I told you to back in the-“

“I didn’t say anything. You were going to get Bradley killed!” The words bubbled out of you before you could think of the repercussions.

Luke was on you in a flash. The tip of the knife pressed over your sternum and you could feel it with each labored breath you sucked in between clenched teeth.

“He would’ve been fine! I know how to do my job! You ruined everything and then took my dad's money!” The knife pressed closer closer closer. It started to tear through the thin material of your shirt and shallowly cut your skin. The whimper you felt blooming in your throat died when you saw the gleam in Luke’s eyes.

Before you could even stop to think of an alternative, you threw your hands up and caught the knife. The edge sank through the delicate skin between your fingers and into your palm but you didn’t recoil. Couldn’t. You were only able to drag the knife down, the tip cutting against the skin just above your stomach.

Fresh pain bloomed across your face and it took you a moment to realize that Luke had slapped you. And then he did it again, making sure to send your head flying backward to slam into the wall hard enough and have stars dancing in front of your eyes. Your grip almost fell, loosening a fraction, and just for a moment everything was silent.

Just a moment.

You’d never be able to describe the pain that bloomed as Luke moved and drove the knife in, slotting it between your ribs and twisting with a vicious flick of his wrist. Your next breath stalled just behind your tongue as every nerve ending exploded with heat and teeth and a terrible popping sensation bubbled beneath your skin. “L-Luke…”

He pushed the knife deeper as he pressed his cheek to yours in an echo of the hugs he used to give you. “I used to miss you, you know. Did you miss me? I treated you so well. I was good to you. So good. I gave you everything.” The knife rocked back and forth and you felt the ridge of it with each movement. You felt all of it. Your grip faltered against the knife gain but you knew you couldn’t drop your hold.

He would kill you.

“And you had to ruin it. You ruined my life.”

“L-Luke…”

“I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you know what you did. You had this coming. All of it.”

“I didn’t,” you wheezed. Your chest was collapsing in on itself like you had a boar sitting on your sternum.

“Say it! You don’t get to play victim this time. You were the one who ruined my life.”

“You were a d-drunk! I did all that work for you until you told me you’d kill me if I made you l-look bad again!” Each word was a crack against your ribs, sharp and biting, but you couldn’t stop. This would be your only chance to say this, you knew it. If you were going to die tonight, you were going to let him know what you really thought of him. “You…” You sucked in a breath that only served to make you ache. “You only got through basic because your daddy bribed someone. You only got into the Navy at all because he made a phone call to someone after you failed the ASVAB. You…you fail at everything you do. You were a shitty AD. And you couldn’t kill me.” Blood dribbled out of your mouth and you felt it slid down your chin. “Twice. So you better make this count.”

Luke’s teeth glinted in the low light and he ripped the knife out only to plunge it back in. You felt the blade scrape against the edge of your hip as you let out a scream that fizzled out to a gurgle as more blood filled your mouth.

“I’ll make it count!” Luke seethed as he drove the knife deeper and pushed you into the wall.

Everything burned. Everything ached. And all you could do was scream as your knees knocked together, strength dribbling out of you with each frantic pulse of your heart.

Luke leaned forward to press his forehead against yours and the knife twisted. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel me inside you?” His breath smelled of the expensive cognac you knew he liked to guzzle and rolled your stomach.

“Luke.” You didn’t want to die looking into his eyes. You didn’t want to die at all, but you weren’t going to have your last earthly memory be of Luke and his cold eyes, so you shut your eyes as the tips of your fingers started to tingle.

The screech of a siren broke through the haze of your mind. You had to laugh but that, too, was cut short when Luke pulled the knife out and rushed toward the window to see the night sky filled with red and blue lights. You crumpled. Your hands slapped against the floor for just a moment before you slumped in a heap against the carpet as your arms gave out.

You vaguely heard your front door slam against the wall and knock another picture from its perch. There was an answering sound of glass shattering before warm, rough hands gently grasped at your shoulders. You struggled for just a moment when your scrambled brain thought Luke had come back to make sure you were dead. Unfocused eyes barely registered Jake kneeling above you.

“Punch? Punch, c’mon darlin’. There you are.” His voice was muffled but you felt yourself smiling anyway as everything started to prickle like you’d pinned your limbs beneath your weight for too long. The smile quickly died when Jake’s hands clamped down over your wounds and a surprised yelp punched out from between your teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I gotta stop the bleeding.”

“I-it hurts.”

“I know. I know it does. But it’ll only hurt a little longer, all right? You gotta stay awake for me. The cops are almost here.” His grip tightened. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”

“Where’s…Luke?” Was he still in your house? Would he hurt Jake?

“I don’t know, darlin’. He’s gone. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll find him and he’ll never do this to you again. But I need you to stay awake.”

Black dots were pushing their way into your line of sight, blotting out Jake’s worried face. “Ken…Jake…I wanted to get steak with you.”

Jake pressed harder and you could only whimper. “We will go get that steak. It’ll be the best date.” His voice was muffled, like you had shoved your head under water. And you struggled to hear him at all.

“Promise?” You asked, blood on your teeth.

“I promise.”

You smiled, despite it all. And then you were gone.

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #tgm #female reader

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oldmemoria · 5 months

Text

okay heres the fucking thing about this script controversy that some people don't seem to get.

just gonna say it blatently:

strap in babes this is gonna be a long one!

The way Miguel O'Hara is written in the leaked transcripts is blatantly racist, here's why from a Latino himself!

all wrapped up in a sweet little bow for everyone who doesn't know how to comprehend what they're reading, cheers!

er. i mean.

¡Salud!

Miguel fans are not mad that they depicted him in a bad light and that they made it clear that he is in the wrong

WE FUCKING KNOW. WE'RE NOT STUPID.

Miguel has been depicted as a morally grey asshole since the early 1990s, which is when Spider-Man 2099 was initially debuted. And while yes, the movies are.... inaccurate, to say the least, it still stands.

The issue here is how he is depicted. They directly call Miguel O'Hara, a Latino man, an ANIMAL (he is directly called an animal TWICE. FUCKING TWICE.)

[1st image id: Miguel leaps onto Vulture, Clawing his way in past the renaissance armor. he is an ANIMAL. (keep in mind ANIMAL is literally in all caps.) /end id]

[2nd image id: Miguel SLASHES at the walls of light that surround Miles. Clawing the energy field apart, an animal in the throes of bloodlust -- /end id]

I need you to really soak in the fact that he is called "AN ANIMAL" twice. I'm awful at alts and ids but I feel I must so you can read it in plain text. sorry if they suck.

Our issue is not that the writers seem to have a bias against the character. a lot of writers write characters they dont particularly like and in turn tend to write them from a foggy lense of their own perception. An example would be Kate Cary and how she didn't like Crowfeather, a character she had to write about. I'm sure some of her bias seeped through. but this is different.

writing a Latino man as a bloodthirsty animal, implied to be called a predator because they call one of the people he fights (im not sure if its miles or the vulture, im leaning towards believing the former.) his "prey", THOSE ARE ALL RACIAL STEREOTYPES. ALL OF THEM.

[3rd image id: But Miguel can only see his prey: /end id]

There is no context to be needed here, the context is that this is miguel we're talking about and that they call him an animal. it does not matter if he is a villain or not (which he isnt, factually he fucking isnt im tired of having this conversation, fuck you). it matters that he's depicted in a racially insensitive way.

and this person brought this up pretty well actually, I didn't even think of it:

[4th image id: Tumblr user @/404-505 saying:

i want to be so mean to them

they couldn't write miguel crossing the border and stealing a job so they wrote him crossing into another universe and stealing his own identity

they couldnt write miguel as a drug addict so they gave him spider steroids instead /end id.]

They bring up a really good point about these clear stereotypes being seemingly. . . disguised behind points that are narratively relevant? This could literally just be pure coincidence, but noting how the writers wrote him before... it isn't looking too good for them. Sorry. Not sorry.

It is clear that there is some kind of bias against miguel that led to really disgusting, racist retoric. Whether or not it was intentional or if it was a first draft or whatever, the writers, which may i remind you were white, still wrote this at some point.

it makes me question whether or not they hated him because of his "bullshit utopia", their words not mine, or because of their own racial biases.

We cannot know because miguel is the only mexican character on the cast. I know Miles is Puerto Rican, but there are differences between how they were portrayed. also Puerto Ricans and Mexicans come from competely different cultural backgrounds that share simularities but are still different dont even try i will destroy you.

Using another users words again, but:

[5th image id: Tumblr user @/transmiguelohara says:

Don't talk to me about the Miguel parts in the script. I'm so disappointed in how the writers view him.

The difference between the way Miguel is written (antagonist, not the villain) vs Spot (the villain, whats to kill Miles' dad and everyone he knows) is soooo.....I don't know man it just screams racism in sorry. Describing Miguel as a bloodthirsty animal? Repeatedly? Treating him like he's mindless and has no motivation beyond having a hair trigger temper? It sucks man. /end id]

It also strikes me that now that we finally have a brown-skinned miguel, they write him like, well. this.

I don't really know if this is petty or not, but I want to wrap this back to the way the fandom also sees Movie Miguel.

Because TRUST ME it is not good either.

Miguel O'Hara Vs. FANDOM: Spoilers, it's been troubling since the beginning.

From the beginning (and by beginning in this case I mean since he was announced to be a character in this movie) Miguel has been continuously sexualized, beyond belief. He is repeatedly called "papi cholo" which NEED I REMIND YOU "Cholo" is a derogatory term used to call someone, usually a mexican person, a criminal or a delinquent.

FUCK YOU if you are not Latino OR hispanic and use this to describe people. from the bottom of my heart.

I'm pretty sure the majority of the people who called/ still currently call him "papi cholo" are mixing it up with "papi chulo" (white people moment.) which means something completely different but is still troubling as hell.

"papi chulo", which is slightly different in the way, just directly translates to "big daddy". Which again, Latino men being overly sexual "Latin Lovers" is ALSO A RACIAL STEREOTYPE. also its just blatant fetishization. Point blank fucking period.

Not only that but I notice a lot of art and fanfiction depicts him doing a lot of violence, or being very overbearing and demeaning, or in short terms.

a lot of people write him as physically and sexually aggressive.

fuck do you mean he growls during sex i can and will send you to space with no return.

which

for the millionth time

racial stereotype

halleluiah or however you spell it.

Having him say random spanish phrases you don't know the meaning or connotations of in your fanfiction is icing on the cake at this point.

fucking end me.

it isn't even only sexual depictions, since he's been shown in the movie, a lot of people seem to just see him as this guy who goes off and tries to kill children at a hairs trigger. which uh. fun fact no he fucking doesnt.

you clearly didn't watch the movie as well as you thought you did. hes just sarcastic and generally pretty level headed through the majority of his runtime, whether its implied by how characters around him act, or its just what we see on screen.

He doesn't necessarily have anger issues, the moment we see at the climax of the film is quite literally a mental break. he is not acting in a way that he usually would because he was cracking under the stress of holding the multiverse together with some scotch tape and orange glitter glue.

Also side tangent but he also has a mental break in the comics that's a little more... droopy and sad as compared to the movie, but it still happens. he has shitty mental health is what im saying. he only really lashes out angrily when hes at his wits end because that's how he grew up. he was taught to suppress his feelings and seem smaller when he was upset.

he is the result of abuse and neglect. of course he wouldn't be amazing at emotional regulation.

Which before anyone says it no, this is not an excuse for his actions. just an explaination that isn't "hes an angry animal that has it out for miles UwU" that everyone seems to have in their brain. I'm tired of you all. truly.

the sentiment that hes agressive and angry and his only emotion is anger and upsetness unless he's horny which is when he experiences all these emotions tenfold is. racist. idk how clear i have to be for people to get it through their damn skulls that the way the fandom depicts him is harmful. do i need to slap you in the face with a fish until you understand. do i need to burn your fanfiction. will you get it now that a 15 year old latino boy has to scream it in your face.

and dont even get me STARED on how inaccurately he is written

this is a more light hearted section because idk. feels like i should have it because this part is just comical, pun intended. How can you fuck up this hard guys.

I was gonna give them the benefit of the doubt because "Miguel has fresh trauma!" "He only shows up for like 10 minutes!" "insert 3rd reason!" for his drastic change in demeanor and personality, which, without context, are valid reasons for him to be a little different. trauma fucks you up man. we only see 10 minutes of him. but at this point im chalking it up to complete incompetence

it doesnt take that long to read a comic book guys. you could have done a little research, I know you can do it.

first off:

[6th image id: Miguel's SPIDER-SENSE goes off! He races to the edge if the building and peers into an empty alley -- /end id]

LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN "SPIDER-SENSE"

Unless you didn't get the total of TWO jokes that they made in ONE scene (the vulture fight scene), Miguel doesn't have a spider sense. at all. He has elevated senses, but he doesnt have a spider sense.

guys

guys.

you made TWO jokes IN A ROW about it. YOU WHACKED HIM IN THE HEAD TWICE WITH IT. HOW DID YOU FORGET

I cant help but laugh! this is a rookie mistake! these are seasoned writers! They could have done at least a little research, or at least remembered that he doesnt have one, no? is it that hard? or does his lack of a spider sense only matter when you're making fun of your least favorite character? thats what I thought.

this one is less funny. not to sound like a stereotypical comic nerd but this infuriated me a little bit I'm not gonna lie.

[8th image id: tumblr user @/darksidecorner reblogged tumblr user @/spiderxpawz with:

They definitely didn't

a screenshot of the script reads:

AN INDUSTRIAL TANGLE OF HUGE PISTONS -- the literal DARK UNDERBELLY that undergrids Miguel's bullshit Utopia.

Miles doesn't know where to go... but he doesn't need to: SOMEONE YANKS him up into the safety of an alcove.

the user then continues:

This in particular made me PISSED because they quietly canonized that Miguel is CEO of Alchemax while conveniently ignoring that he did everything in his fucking power to BETTER Neuva York. Downtown wasn't built by him. It was built by people WAY before him.

I can excuse and defend some comic deviation, but THIS? Holy FUCK /end id]

I honestly cant tell if I find this part funny or pathetic because seriously. he did not do this. why are you blaming him for something he had nothing to do with. i dont think he decided "hey i should build a city for rich people over poor people because reasons" when he was like... not even alive. Alchemax did this before he was even sentient. it had always been this way since he was born. he also actively hated this decision. because he actively hates alchemax.

but right MIGUELS bullshit Utopia yeah HE did this that EVIL LITTLE BABY i cant believe him

kill me.

In conclusion:

I. . . Don't really know, to be honest. I'm still processing all this. I am genuinely disappointed and upset because this isn't okay. It never will be, and if it takes yet another blunt essay with absolutely no filter for people to understand it then so be it. I don't care if this comes off as mean. This is something I feel qualified to talk about and I will express my disappointment and anger if I want to.

All of the posts I reference I have reblogged within the last 24 hours of making this post, they shouldn't be that hard to find, but if you want the links to them here they are:

https://www.tumblr.com/spiderxpawz/735344322114977792/live-mexican-reaction?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/404-505/735289664739606528/they-couldnt-write-miguel-as-a-drug-addict-so?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/transmiguelohara/735289238625648640/cant-believe-the-writers-have-the-same-reading?source=share

if you want your image to be removed or for your link to be removed just ask and I'll do it. but currently im kinda bummed out and tired.

goodbye.

218 notes · View notes

satans-helper · 7 months

Text

Bring a Friend

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6800

Warnings: it's a threeway with HEAVY slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (voyeurism; oral sex w/ M & F receiving; dirty talking; bottom!Sam; Danny is a bit of a dom; fingering all around; protected anal & vaginal sex) 18+ only!

@mackalah sent a call to the universe asking for a Sanny x Reader fic inspired by the song Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd. I've been writing Sanny fics for a long time and I never get tired of doing it. I think I was one of the first, if not the first, writers in the fandom to write a Sanny threeway, actually...and I never thought I'd write more of those but I felt very inspired by this song and the idea...even if it doesn't fit your specific image, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it ;)

---

Sure, you had reconciled with the fact that Sam would never love you as much as he loved Danny. At first, their overwhelming affection and adoration for one another was kind of cute to you. Seeing Sam so enamored with a boy was adorable–quite special, really. You loved that he could love a best friend so fiercely, so passionately. But then it had become clearer and clearer throughout your relationship that you would never be even close to a priority no matter how long you were with Sam or how close you two became–Danny would always be closer, and Danny would always be number one.

So things ended. Amicably enough, thankfully, and you still saw Sam–and by default, Danny–all the time. You were friends. But you weren’t sure how to respond when Sam started sending you pictures that showcased more of their friendship than you’d ever imagined. Well, not seriously imagined, anyway.

The first one was almost passable as innocent–a picture of Sam and Danny’s arms slung across one another’s shoulders, Danny leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek.

Cute, you texted back.

Jealous? Sam replied.

You balked at your phone. Sam was ridiculous. Of you or of him?

Either

Nope

Hmm…

After that text, he sent you a picture of them actually kissing–Danny was planting a big one right on Sam’s mouth and Sam was smiling into it, arm outstretched to capture the moment on his phone.

What about now?

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. It was kind of hot, you had to admit, but you also felt your chest tighten with bitterness–you’d really tried with Sam. You’d been patient and forgiving, welcoming of how close Danny was to him, but it just never felt like you were enough. Not the perfect fit. And that wore you down more and more until it just all had to end. But here Sam was showing off his perfect match, apparently really trying to make you jealous when you thought all those feelings of jealousy had been buried and forgotten.

You left Sam on read, ignoring his attempt to antagonize you, but later, when you’d nearly forgotten about the pictures, Danny texted you:

Did Sam send pics of us together to you?

You sighed. You weren’t really in the mood to get more, but maybe Danny would spare you.

Yes. Did you guys take those just to send to me and make me “jealous?”

Actually no. I didn’t even know he sent them until now. I’m really sorry if it upset you

Another sigh. Danny was a sweetheart. Surely he really didn’t want to rile you up or hurt your feelings.

It's okay. You guys are good together

Thanks. You and Sam were good together too

You left that alone. As much as you could appreciate the sentiment, you weren’t in the mood to travel further down memory lane. But later, when you were lying in bed, you found yourself opening up your texts to look at those pictures again, especially lingering on the snapshot of Sam and Danny kissing. Finally, with a huff you locked your phone and tossed it aside before you tossed yourself into a fitful sleep.

But the next day, the pictures commenced. The first one was sent in the middle of the night and was a perplexing awakening–a picture clearly taken from Sam’s POV. You’d recognize that torso anywhere and there it was in clear digital–Sam flat on his back, a string of bright pink bite marks down his stomach and Danny’s wild dark curls pressed against his belly. You couldn’t see his face, but you also knew that hair anywhere. You sat up in bed rubbing your eyes and once your brain made full sense of the image, you wanted to be mad. You were mad–you could feel the heat rising in your body, the tension growing in your mind, but you also felt a tingle of betrayal shudder through you all the same.

No text accompanied the photo. It was bait and you weren’t going for it. If Sam wanted you to be jealous, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction; if he just wanted you to have the pictures for whatever demented reason, you’d accept. But when the pictures kept coming and got progressively more raunchy, you thought the picture of Sam kissing Danny’s neck, his hand shoved down Danny’s pants, had to be the last one. There was no way it would escalate. But it did–later that night Sam sent you a picture of Danny straight up sucking his dick.

That made you gasp and, without even thinking about it, press the call button.

“Sam!” you shouted when he answered. “What the fuck are you doing? Does Danny know you’re sending me all these?”

Sam laughed. Such a bastard. “He didn’t at first. But now he does. He’s been encouraging me.”

You held your face in your free hand, sighing. “Sam. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve really worked hard to move past our breakup and I–”

“Y/N, I know. That’s not what this is.” Sam paused for a second and you sensed he wasn’t alone on the other end. “This is an invitation.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself–you’d thought about it. How could you not after receiving all those pictures? But still the words from Sam didn’t make sense in your mind. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re inviting you to join us.” When you didn’t respond, Sam continued: “Just for a night, you know? Test it out?”

The words were still bouncing around. Your heart sped up with curiosity. “Let me talk to Danny,” you ordered. “I’m sure he’s with you right now. Right?” Danny would make it make sense.

Another laugh from Sam. “Yeah, he’s here. Hang on.” There was a vague shuffle and then Danny’s voice was in your ear.

“Danny, please explain this to me,” you demanded, growing even more flustered and impatient. “What’s Sam talking about?”

“Well, um, I think he kind of said it all.”

You let out an exasperated huff. “He did not say it all, Danny. Clearly I need you to spell it out for me.”

“We both like you and we want to have a threesome,” Danny explained and you could hear Sam laugh in the background. “That’s it. If you don’t want to, it’s totally cool. And I’ll tell him to stop sending the pictures.”

Maybe it was strange, but when you’d looked at all the photos, you’d never pictured yourself being part of the action. Sam and Danny came as a pair–clearly. Your relationship had ended because of that–and were truly, as far as you were concerned, meant for one another. To get between that seemed strange, not to mention held incredible risk to damage the friendship you were still clinging to with both of them.

You thought about the pictures some more though and felt you landed on some middle ground, unorthodox as it was. But all of this was entirely unorthodox. “What if I watched?” you proposed.

“What? You want to?” Danny asked, the surprise in his voice ridiculous to you given what he and Sam had already proposed themselves.

“Sure. Clearly, Sam’s into that.”

There was a slight pause, then Danny said, “Okay. Yeah, sure. We’re into that too.”

It was probably one of the worst decisions of your life. But when you hung up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it.

You were surprised at how Sam and Danny didn’t seem to care at all that you were watching, sitting in the oversized, plush lounge chair that had been hauled from the living room to the bedroom for the big show. You were also surprised at how, as the action progressed and you were seemingly forgotten, sinking back into the walls like you were invisible, you cared less and less as well. Sam and Danny were completely enthralling to watch–Sam was lying half on top of Danny, kissing him like his best friend was made of pure magic, and Danny was cradling the back of Sam’s head like he was a precious piece of art. Both things were true in your mind–Danny was like a magical, mystical storm enveloping Sam, who was indeed a rare and beautiful work of art that needed to be treasured.

When Sam smiled into the next kiss, a lightning bolt of jealousy pierced your chest. They looked at one another like they were completely in love, probably because they were. Sam had never looked at you like that. But it made sense. You were just the last in a string of failed girlfriends before Sam finally realized who his true partner was. You could imagine that Danny had been silently waiting and beckoning Sam to come to him for good.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that what you were privileged to witness was also painfully hot, even hotter when they both took their shirts off; Sam dipped his head down to begin kissing Danny’s neck and Danny’s hands roamed Sam’s shoulders and back, then up to toy with his hair.

For the first time since they’d begun, Sam addressed you. “Isn’t he so hot?” he asked, glancing at you while he ran his fingers over Danny’s ribs.

“Very hot,” you agreed; Danny blushed in response.

“Did you ever think about fucking him?” Sam continued. The question didn’t catch you off-guard, having expected to be a little scrutinized with all the build-up to this event. If nothing else, the conversation probably just made Sam even more turned on.

“Who hasn’t?” you replied. You had, not that you’d ever told Sam that. Not that Danny ever showed any interest. And not that Sam would have cared, you realized; on the contrary, you now knew he would have jumped at this opportunity much earlier.

“I know, right?” Sam resumed pressing kisses to Danny’ neck, holding the side of his face; Danny nuzzled against his palm and that image made your heart swell. They adored each other so vividly and so overtly.

“I’m surprised you’re okay with being watched, Danny,” you noted, feeling a little more apt to talking now that Sam had extended that olive branch.

“I said I’d try it. For Sam,” Danny told you. Sam smirked against his skin and wiggled down to mouth against his chest. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just you.”

“You like watching?” Sam inquired, peeking at you with his face still pressed against Danny’s chest, his cheek resting against his sternum.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” you said. You could feel your own body literally growing hotter by the second just watching, even more so when Sam finally brought one hand down to Danny’s crotch. Your breath hitched as Danny’s did too, and he arched up into Sam’s touch.

“Just wait ‘til you see his dick,” Sam said, stroking Danny over his sweatpants. You could see the faint outline, impressively sized, not to your surprise. Sam brought himself to his knees and moved lower, bringing his fingers to the waistband of Danny’s pants. “It’s so big I can hardly take it.”

Your cheeks suddenly burned. “Jesus, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true!”

“It is true,” Danny affirmed, putting both his hands on Sam’s head. “But you’re gonna take it tonight, right? Show Y/N how good you can be for me?”

You hadn’t, however, expected Danny to chime into the dirty talking. It seemed so out of character but it worked, and it had you rubbing your thighs together, starting to feel tortured. But you were going to try to keep up. “You let him fuck you, Sam?”

“Sure do. He’s fucking good at it too,” Sam said with a rough, low laugh. He pulled down Danny’s pants and that impressive dick was free, rock hard and looking heavy against Danny’s abdomen. You watched Danny close his eyes as Sam licked straight up his length, cradling his balls in one hand while the other was clenching tight around his hip.

“Is Sam good at sucking dick?” you asked. Danny seemed to be enjoying it already, even with Sam just licking and jerking him off slowly.

Danny nodded, humming, and laced his fingers through Sam’s hair. “He’s so good at it. He knows just what I like. Why don’t you show her, Sammy?”

And Sam did, gripping the base of Danny’s cock to prop him up before he went down. Danny was big–the fact that Sam could take half in one go was impressive and you squeezed your thighs together harder, struggling more and more to figure out what to do with your own hands. Meanwhile, Sam knew what to do with his hands. He started to stroke Danny while he sucked and his other hand trailed up Danny’s body, palming at his chest before he slipped his fingers into Danny’s mouth.

There was no music to curtail the sounds they were both making–Sam’s sloppy sucking and occasional gags, Danny’s muffled gasps and moans that turned to whimpers with Sam’s fingers in his mouth and his cock being worked over longer and harder. Maybe all of this should have been shocking. You never thought, not before all those pictures anyway, that Sam would go down on any man and you certainly never could have imagined you’d watch it happen, but the whole thing was far more arousing than shocking. It was like your brain couldn’t even acknowledge the surprise that should have been blatant, rather it was fixated on the pure pleasure Sam was giving to Danny and how it translated to you somehow, an invisible line connecting all three of you.

Forever, for sure. You’d have to take all of this to the grave.

Sam suddenly grunted and popped off, grinning at Danny with spit coating his chin. “Ouch, Daniel.” He turned to you. “He’s such a biter.”

You’d been too busy watching Sam going down on him to have noticed Danny chomping on his fingers. “I remember,” you said, voice just a tad wobbly which you hoped would go unnoticed. “From that picture. All those marks on your stomach.” You could still see faint pink remnants on Sam’s torso now.

“Mmm, yeah.” Sam jerked Danny off, a wet slick sound thanks to all the saliva he’d left behind, and kept his eyes on you while he asked, “Wanna watch him do it?”

You felt like you were about to burst despite no one touching you or touching yourself, but the idea of Danny doing that was too enticing to turn down. You also felt it was possible that such a long delay before your own ecstasy could make it all even more incredible. So you said yes and quickly Sam flopped onto his back, encouraging Danny to come to him with outstretched arms, but he had to wait a moment–Danny fumbled on the bed for a few seconds trying to get his pants all the way off and his struggle elicited a much-needed laugh from you and Sam.

“Stop laughing,” Danny protested with a final kick, sending the sweatpants to the floor. “Getting naked isn’t always like, a graceful thing.”

“You’re not as bad as Sam,” you assured him, and Sam shot you an insulted look. “He just tears everything off like an animal. No grace at all.”

“I like doing it for him,” Danny said. He kissed Sam on the mouth softly, deeply, and Sam’s arms circled his shoulders, bringing him even closer. You watched closely, glued to the chair, as Danny brushed Sam’s hair back and brought his mouth to his neck; you’d always loved kissing Sam’s neck, too. Would he make the same sorts of sounds when Danny did it?

The soft sigh that Sam let out when Danny kissed along his throat was similar, yet still different. There was more desperation in that sound, especially when Danny carried on gently for another few moments before you saw him sink his teeth right in. Sam shuddered and clawed at Danny’s shoulders, and suddenly you were wondering what Danny’s mouth would feel like on you.

“Yeah, Sam loves when I mark him up,” Danny purred, trailing his increasingly harsh and teeth-filled kisses down Sam’s torso. He stopped at Sam’s belly, his teeth pressing into the soft skin as he pulled down his shorts. Seeing Sam’s dick was nothing new for you, but when Danny abruptly grabbed Sam by the hips to toss him over, then lifted him onto his knees, that was an entirely new sight.

Danny gripped Sam’s ass while he dove right in and took a bite into one cheek like he really was trying to eat him; Sam yelped and you gasped. It looked like it hurt–when Danny pulled back, there was already an angry red mark, but then Sam moaned and laughed a little.

“God, Sam. I didn’t know you were like this,” you remarked, perplexed and fascinated and so turned on that you had to sit right on top of your hands. “I’ve never seen you so–I don’t know. Submissive.”

“He’s a good boy for me,” Danny said, the words low and deep, and pet his hands up Sam’s sides. You could see that–Sam was perfectly pliant beneath Danny’s touch, like he was just waiting for whatever happened next, and so responsive to everything. Danny looked at you and his next question, though you’d been secretly waiting for it, nearly made you collapse out of the chair: “Wanna help him get ready?”

You balked for a moment, wide-eyed and so stiff from all the pent up excitement and curiosity. “Ready for–?”

Sam snapped his head to the side, peering at you sharply through his hair that had fallen into his face. “Ready to fuck me, obviously,” he snarked, but when Danny grabbed his hips hard and gave another bite to his ass, he quivered and his voice softened as he added, “Get over here, Y/N. We need you.”

That short sentence circled around in your mind, urging you to move but you felt like you couldn’t–the thought of getting up fully clothed to just wander over to what was happening on the bed seemed awkward and silly. Clearly your trepidation didn’t go unnoticed, because Danny was walking over to you, naked as the day he was born, and lifted you up.

“Don’t be scared,” he said in your ear, pushing you onward while he stayed behind you, his erection unceremoniously pressing against your lower back.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but you gasped again when Danny tugged at your pants and Sam was suddenly right in front of you yanking on the hem of your shirt. Helpless, you let them both strip you down to your bra and panties; Sam leaned back on his hands with a grin while you felt Danny move in even closer, his hands stroking your hips.

“Is that okay?” Danny asked, his lips on your ear.

“Yeah, sure,” was all you could say. You shivered when Sam reached one of his hands out to lightly press his fingers to the crotch of your panties.

“It was really hot for you to watch,” Sam said, drawing a line down your thigh with one fingertip. “Danny was nervous about it. Performance anxiety, you know. But–” He leaned to the side to look behind you. “It looks like he’s doing just fine.”

You were feeling more relaxed–Sam was back to himself, at least momentarily, and Danny was keeping his touches gentle and tentative. “You guys look like you’re made for each other. It makes sense why we didn’t work out.”

Sam frowned a little. “I feel bad about that, Y/N. I didn’t even know how into Danny I was until, well, pretty recently.”

Danny gave a little snort. “Please. I think everyone but you could see it pretty clearly.”

Sam rolled his eyes before he sighed and looked back at you. “You should try kissing him,” he suggested, leaning back once more. “It’s totally serendipitous.”

You could imagine. You turned in Danny’s arms; he smiled at you so sweetly that you were wrapped up in his softness, not even realizing he was single handedly bringing you down to the bed to lie next to Sam. Then he was kissing you as tenderly as he’d smiled at you and you felt you understood what Sam must have been feeling while you’d been watching earlier–kissing Danny was like magic.

You were feeling quite fulfilled just from making out and touching–Danny was so warm and so firm, his muscles taut beneath your fingers, his hair so soft–but then he was abruptly being pulled away from you. “Alright, back to business,” Sam commanded, yanking Danny away by his hair, to which Danny was grimacing and reaching up untangle Sam’s fingers.

“Ha!” Danny exclaimed when Sam freed him. “You’re jealous.”

You’d never seen Sam jealous before, actually, but now that Danny was pointing it out, you could see it clearly–the darkness in his eyes beneath furrowed brows, the exaggerated slant of his cheekbones as he pouted, the flush on his cheeks.

“You’re supposed to make it even during threesomes,” Sam said, looking from Danny to you then back again. Jealous or not, he was still hard, you noticed. “You have to divvy up the attention, Daniel and Y/N.”

“Fine,” Danny said shortly. “Then get on your knees again.” Instead of waiting even one second for Sam to do it himself, he grabbed his ankles and rolled him over again.

“Such a dom,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“God,” was all you could say, breathless at being involved now, not just witnessing. You needed to see more though and you were starting to understand your place in all this–you moved up to sit in front of Sam, lightly touching his face. “Hey, Sam–can I kiss you?”

He smirked at you, though you felt he had no right to when he was in such a vulnerable position, his ass quite literally in Danny’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, inching forward on his elbows, an image so ridiculous that you almost laughed. Instead, you brought your smile to his lips and kissed him for the first time in months–it should have felt ordinary but it didn’t. It felt brand new, strange and a little scary, made even scarier by the sudden popping sound that broke out from below.

You pulled away to identify the source, which was Danny squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Where’d you get that?” you asked, keeping your hands on Sam’s shoulders.

Danny chuckled, closing the cap of the bottle. “It was already on the bed.” With his dry hand he lifted a strip of condoms from the mattress and waved them around. “We came prepared.”

You grimaced; Sam and Danny both laughed. “Well, um–that’s good,” you said, but jeez. When had your ex-boyfriend and his best friend become such sex-crazed maniacs? It wasn’t the condoms or the lube–it was the fact that Sam was wiggling his hips back to Danny and Danny was squeezing one of his ass cheeks, anticipation evident on his face.

“Are you good?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his knees to get directly in front of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yeah, uh, I’m very good,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair and nearly knocking Sam in the face in the process. “It’s just–a lot to process.”

Danny moved right behind Sam, holding him so you were all pressed together like an obscene panini. “Yeah, it is for us, too,” he said, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulders. “You’re the only one we’d wanna do this with.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“You’re fucking rude, Sam,” you said, but all the distractions kept any real heat away from your voice.

Sam laughed, that loud cackle that nearly made the walls vibrate. “I’m kidding, Y/N!” He grabbed your face and pulled you forward to plant a fast, harsh kiss to your mouth before he snapped back and said, looking over his shoulder at Danny, “Now let’s get this show on the road, big guy. Show her what you’re made of.”

That certainly did set things in motion, with Danny moving swiftly to get Sam back down in front of you; Sam planted his face in your lap and grabbed your hips, hastily pulling your underwear down. You weren’t sure where to fix your eyes–at Danny kissing Sam’s spine and his arm moving vaguely below or Sam tossing your panties to the floor, then latching his teeth to your inner thigh.

You let out a flustered breath and unhooked your bra. “Since everyone else is doing it–”

Sam’s voice was faintly muffled with his face between your legs: “That’s the spirit.” Though it shouldn’t have, the swipe of his tongue up your center came as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the loud keen that came from him as Danny perked up behind him, looking at both of you.

“Oh my god,” you uttered, trembling as you met Danny’s gaze. “Are you–”

“I’m getting him ready,” Danny answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. When you straightened up a bit, you got a better peek at what Danny’s hands were doing–one was gripping Sam’s hip and the other was thrusting idly. “I gotta open him up.” He draped himself over Sam’s back, his own upper body long enough for his own dark curls to mix with Sam’s sleek chestnut hair. “How do you want it, Sammy? Nice and easy or hard and fast?”

Sam gave an upwards nod at you. “Whatever she wants to see.”

Being given a clear say in this matter triggered a need for vengeance that you hadn’t even known existed. “Hard and fast,” you told Danny. He looked a little surprised, eyes widening slightly and lips parting; you tugged Sam’s hair a bit to make him look up at you again. “I bet that’s how you really like it, isn’t it?”

Of course Sam wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling like revenge was ever possible. He laughed softly and said, “I like it however Danny likes it.”

Danny pulled back. “Which just happens to be hard and fast,” he said, and you caught a glimpse of him thrusting his hand forward again and Sam let out a choked little whimper, then a bitten-back groan as Danny gave a shockingly sharp, hard smack to his ass.

You had nothing to say to that. You simply tried to process what the hell was happening all around you once more, which was a good thing; you couldn’t exactly speak when Sam began nipping at your thigh and sliding two fingers inside of you. You kept your hands in his hair and fought the urge to close your eyes–you wanted to see as much as you could of Danny working his own fingers in and out of Sam and the way your ex-boyfriend’s body moved so sinuously with every motion. Sam pressed his tongue to your clit again, licking with impressive intention given the position he was in, while his soft grunts got muffled against your heat.

“How’s that feel?” Danny asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Sam or both of you.

“Good,” you said at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” He looked up with suspicion. “Just ‘good?’ Alright, guess I have to work harder.” He brought his face back down, lapping at your clit wetly while his fingers worked deeper and harder through your own wetness. You felt a little embarrassed at how you were already dampening the sheet beneath you but you couldn’t help it–this was by far the most wild and the hottest sexual experience of your life. It made you a little mad that Sam being a kind of shitty boyfriend had to be the lead up to it.

Danny hummed. “So, Sam–think you’re ready?”

Sam nodded between your thighs, then looked up, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and his spit. “I’ve got an idea,” he began, lifting himself up and using your legs for leverage. “Get under me. That way, it’ll be like getting fucked by both of us.” He laughed a little, looking very satisfied with his own suggestion. “Except I'll still be getting fucked the way I want.”

“Always about you,” you muttered, a futile sort of defense mechanism against this very bewildering idea. But Sam only pulled you down as much as he could, until you were halfway down the bed and halfway beneath him.

Danny, you could tell based on the crinkling sound, was getting a condom on; you watched him slip one to Sam, who wasted no time in tearing it open. His abdomen flexed as he stayed upright on his knees and rolled the condom over his own cock; you reached out to touch him, his body still so familiar. The onset of an ache, of wanting Sam so badly, began to override the ache for punishing him. Maybe all of this was an apology in and of itself.

“I gotta get in you before he gets me,” Sam said. His voice was calm but his cheeks were vivid scarlet and sweat beaded on his hairline. You spread your legs and got your arms around his waist, both bringing him down to you and giving yourself some much-needed stability, and Sam slid into you like it was any other ordinary time, except for Danny’s hands looping around his chest and bringing his chin back to Sam’s shoulder.

The slide was easy–probably far easier than Sam’s experience would be, you thought–and Danny watched while he sank his teeth into Sam’s skin, the swirling forest of his irises fixed on yours in a way that would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t for Sam overtaking you being so distracting.

“God, you feel good,” Sam said quietly, giving a shallow thrust. That was enough to make you moan softly in response, gripping his middle more tightly. Your arms were brushing against Danny’s abdomen; Danny brought one hand to your forearm as if encouraging you both to keep going, so Sam did with a few more gentle shoves of his hips. As you were just getting used to the sensation of three bodies of increasing heat coming together, Sam’s cock sliding through your wetness and his hands squeezing your breasts, Danny shifted and Sam’s serene face turned to an open-mouthed, tense visage.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Danny encouraged. There was so much love in his voice that it made you feel loved too, though it was obvious in that moment he was wholly focused on Sam. Rightfully so. Sam responded viscerally not only with his facial expressions that only you could see, but with his voice, cursing softly and moaning low, and the full-body shudder that ran through him as Danny pushed forward.

You could imagine it being a bit of a challenge to take Danny yourself; the fact that Sam could do it was actually a little amazing. “God, Sam,” you said, stroking his hair. The soft reverence emanating from Danny made you feel the same–this was an experience to be treasured no matter how it went. “This is so hot. You guys look really hot together.”

“He feels so good. Literally so hot,” Danny said. He leaned over Sam again, making Sam push down on you, and subsequently into you, harder. Danny was fully in charge now, something you were entirely unopposed to–you watched, fascinated, as he began to move, his hands wandering over Sam’s chest and hips while he started to thrust. He built up a rhythm swiftly and easily, soon enough making Sam let out moans that became choked little sobbing sounds as Danny started to live up to expectations–he was fucking Sam hard and fast and you were on the receiving end of the last gyrations and echoes of his movements.

You grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in to kiss. There was just barely enough room to snake your arm between the two of your bodies; your first two fingers made a V around the base of Sam’s cock, stroking him lightly before you brought them to circle your clit. Sam’s desperate moans were drowned out by your incessant kissing–you wanted to consume him like Danny did, or as close to it as possible.

Between pants and huffs of effort, Danny’s voice snaked through your ears: “Do you like it, Sammy?” he asked and you opened your ears, giving Sam some necessary air and giving yourself quite the view as you strained to the side. Danny’s thighs were flexing with each thrust and his hands had a stronghold around Sam’s hips; Sam was all wobbly limbs and flushed skin, his hands clamped on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” was all Sam said. It was probably all he could say while Danny pounded into him.

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “What was that?” You bit your lip as Sam’s face tensed, his eyes shut tight, and waited for Sam to respond, but he didn’t. He only moaned a little, quiet and subdued, then the tension was slashed to pieces by another hard smack against his ass. “Sam?”

“Fuck!” Sam was explosive now with that one word, fucking himself back onto Danny and, subsequently, harder into you as he shifted back and forth. Words escaped you entirely as you just tried to ride through the dense waves, but Danny apparently had more.

“Tell Y/N how much you like this,” Danny demanded, yanking Sam’s head back by a fistful of hair, Sam squirming helplessly all the way.

“Oh my god, I like it,” Sam let out breathlessly, trying to look back at Danny. With the additional space, you touched yourself again more freely. Your chest and stomach felt so tight, this huge buildup growing even more–the fear surrounding this was gone. The anticipation had been alleviated and the payoff was more than you’d ever imagined, because the image of Danny holding Sam’s hip while he pulled his hair, his lips roaming Sam’s neck, and Sam desperately trying to please both of you was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen.

It was Danny's name that escaped your lips as you came, eyes shutting to dizzying blackness, shuddering violently beneath Sam and squeezing his cock tight inside you. Even in the throes of your own little explosion, you realized what you’d said and managed to say Sam’s name next, and reached for him with one hand.

“Oh fuck, I like that too,�� Sam said against your cheek, teeth then dragging down to your neck. “You coming around me while Danny fucks me. So fucking hot.”

“Fuck, you guys–” you started to say, still out of breath, and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, trying to keep him close. “This is–wow. Are you close?”

“Sam’s ready to blow,” Danny answered, not showing any sign of slowing down. “He’s getting even tighter and–” He peeked down, then Sam gasped. “Yup, his balls are full. You gonna come for us, Sam?”

“Danny, where’d you learn how to dirty talk like this?” you questioned, genuinely flabbergasted by how easily the more easygoing, friendly and sometimes exceptionally shy and boyish side could give way to a man who was so in charge, so lustful, so commanding.

“He’s a secret slut,” Sam quipped, which got him another slap on the ass. He laughed a little, then you were caught in the dark again when he began to kiss you. Based on just that, it did seem like Sam was close–the kisses were getting sloppier, the stifled moans sharper, his hands squeezing your body harder. And when he did come, it wasn’t exactly what you were used to because Sam also moaned Danny’s name, both syllables whispered on your lips.

“That’s good, baby,” Danny cooed. Your vision was a bit fuzzy as you tried to look right at him, but you could see quite clearly how tenderly those big hands moved down Sam’s trembling back. The gentleness was short-lived–Danny went back into thrusting harshly, their muscles clashing against one another’s, Danny’s fingers raking down Sam’s sides. You’d never seen Danny come. Never thought you ever would. You thought that would be forever reserved for Sam now that they’d gotten together. So, enthralled once more, you stayed transfixed on him as he closed his eyes and lurched forward, his upper body hanging over Sam, his curls shielding parts of his face. But you could see the twitch of a brow and the parting of his lips, then the white teeth biting down, and then Danny let himself go entirely. He flopped down on top of Sam, who collapsed on top of you.

“Okay, jeez, you guys are heavy,” you noted after getting the wind knocked out of you. Sam stayed motionless, but Danny had the decency to get up. You turned your head to the side to watch him move off the bed, carefully roll the condom off himself and grab his pants from the floor. You considered asking him to stay naked because, well, why not? But then Sam groaned loudly, interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow,” he declared, finally rolling off you, spreading out on his back; he stretched and you heard a crack come from somewhere. “Thanks, Daniel.”

Danny stepped over to pat Sam’s thigh. “You’re welcome.” He looked over at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I–” you paused, trying to find the right words, but first you needed to find your clothes again. Sam might have been comfortable living nude as often as he could, but you needed some sense of familiar security around you after all that. As you got redressed, you continued: “I felt many things during all that, honestly. It was kinda fun to see Sam getting wrecked.” Danny beamed at that, which almost made you laugh, which made Sam actually laugh. “I think you guys really are great together and I’m happy for you. But breaking up still really hurt.”

Danny gave a sympathetic frown then, his eyes becoming softer; Sam crawled over to your seat at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I really am,” he said, sounding shockingly genuine. “I should’ve been a better boyfriend while I was still your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, Sam, honestly,” you assured him, patting the arm that had wrapped around you. “It’s over and, really, it was fine. You were just in love with someone else. Better being in love with Danny than some random stranger or something.”

“Maybe if he’d told me sooner, we wouldn’t have ended up in that whole mess.”

Danny scoffed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood in front of both of you. “I sent you like, a million signals, Sam. You were pretty much the only person who didn't realize sooner.”

“It’s true,” you chimed in. “Looking back, Danny never really tried to hide anything.”

Sam sighed, then hopped off the bed and plastered himself against Danny’s side. “Okay, well, we didn’t hide anything tonight, did we?” He reached down and grabbed Danny’s crotch while kissing his cheek.

Danny hissed and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Too much too soon.”

“Never too much,” Sam replied, sneaking in another kiss, holding Danny close. “Never too soon.”

“Ugh.” You got to your feet, too. “Too much sappy romance for me.”

Sam cackled and grabbed your hand. “No, don’t leave. The night can’t end like this.”

“Yeah, we all at least need a few shots or a bowl or something,” Danny agreed with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “And a shower. Definitely a shower.”

“I get to go first,” Sam announced, breaking free and jetting out of the room, leaving you with a final image of his reddened ass, all thanks to Danny.

So then it was just you and Danny standing in the middle of the bedroom where so many unexpected, wild and beautiful things had happened. You looked at the chair that you’d been sitting in, so unassuming, then to the disheveled bed, and Danny put one arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he said. “Sam still talks about you all the time. He really cares about you. I think he respects you a lot, too.”

“I’ll always care about him,” you told Danny. His touch was as comforting as your clothes, weirdly enough. You were starting to understand more and more why Sam was so smitten with him. “I care about you too, Danny.”

From the hallway, Sam shouted, “Do you care enough about me to let my boyfriend get in the shower with me?”

Danny rolled his eyes while you laughed. “Okay, big guy,” you said, steering him out of the room. “You get in there while I get the drinks.”

---

Tagging no one (RIP my old fandom). If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, you can go HERE or DM me!

#sam kiszka #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #gvf smut #sam kiszka x reader #gvf fic #gvf fan fiction #sam fic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka

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mistyresolve · 1 year

Text

| Give Me One More - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count - 3.9k

Warnings/Tags - explicit, swearing, 18+ ONLY, praise, overstimulation, fingering, hj, spitplay, unprotected sex, creampie

Summary - The reader has never dealt with the heat very well. So when it’s time for sleep and they are having a hard time staying still Simon comes up with a plan to tire them out.

A/N - i am a firm believer that our mr. simon “ghost” riley is a service top, and is really in tune with his partner.

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It was the heat of summer, and it was hotter than the devil's anus. The original plan was to go out for a shopping day with a couple of friends, but it was cancelled for fear of heat stroke. In lieu of that, you stayed inside for the day and eat ice cubes on the couch while hate-watching "Days of Our Lives".

You had sent Simon a text midday to tell him he might have to pick up food on his way home because there was no way you were turning on the oven. He replied an hour later with: “Tacos.” He had also been oh so generous to bring you a slurpy too. The treat was so cold that there was precipitation dripping down the sides. Simon wasn’t able to tell you the flavour but it was a red one (chances were high it was cherry). It stained your tongue and lips that same obnoxious red. Simon had snuck a few sips for himself and he might have gotten away with it if it weren’t for the stain on his own mouth. He had a goofy grin when you confronted him, and he still tried to deny it.

When Simon disappeared into the ensuite to take a shower, you had followed him in. Steam rolled out from the glass but without being asked he turned the tap a little on the colder side for you. You squeezed a little shampoo onto his open palm and he set to massage it into your hair creating a thick lather. Extra attention at the temples and pressure points are the base of your neck. He spun you around to face him before dipping your head back into the water to rinse it all away. He placed a tender kiss on your exposed throat. Despite trying you couldn’t fight the smile back and laced your finger into his hair.

“It’s getting so long,” you commented, tugging at his scalp lightly. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, you liked him no matter what he did. It was the fact that he never lets it get this long, knowing preferring his hair cropped for it was more comfortable under the mask, “Is it busy at work?” you asked. It would explain the hair and the tired eyes.

You knew what his job description was but never the details. It was both a security and moral issue. The relationship was a little rocky at the beginning when you were first coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t completely open up to you. He did the best he could but some things he held tight to his chest.

Your gaze shifted to the copious scars and imperfections in his skin. Tracing a finger on a particularly gruesome slash on his bicep. He had told you it was from shrapnel, a rouge sheet of metal from a vehicle. Each time he returned for a mission you checked him for new injury. More often than not there was. Some wounds were smaller, little white lines peppering his arms and across his chest. Like little flecks of glitter against his skin. Some wounds were more harrowing. A few of them were nearly fatal. Like the angry stars that were left behind by bullets. Those ones you always paid extra attention to when you were on top of him. Running your open mouth across his skin.

His dark eyes flicked to your face as he moved to work the conditioner into your hair. You ran your finger up his arm to his lips and the little fading scar there. He’s yet to tell you where that one came from, all he’s said was that it was from before he enlisted. He pressed a kiss to the pads of your fingers.

“It’s picking up, yes,” his voice was rougher, as if it were covered in char and gunpowder. Even today the juxtaposition of your delicacy a juxtaposition to his occupation stuns him.

“Are they going to send you away?” You closed your eyes as the water and soap started to fall over your face. He quickly washed it all out so he could pull you out of the onslaught of water.

“Probably…not for long though. I’ll be speedy this time,” he flashed you a cocky smile, revealing faint lines around his eyes. The identical indents on his cheeks make you cup his face and turn it away from you. He was gorgeous, and sometimes it was a little too much for you to handle.

Once out of the shower, he let you wash any remaining black paint around his eyes with your array of skin care. Envy bubbled up into your chest for the length of his lashes. You let him smell your brand new rose toner, and he agreed when you asked if it smelt like candy. You tried to give him an overnight lip mask, but he swatted your hand away. He quibbled that if anyone found out he let you do that the damage to his reputation would be irreversible.

You padded after him back to the bedroom, and he tossed one of his shirts over his shoulder to you. You slipped into it, catching the underwear he tossed next. You give him a distasteful look. He picked the skimpiest, laciest pair he could possibly find. He had pulled on a loose pair of grey sweatpants, forgetting a shirt. His dog tags flashed as the light from the bathroom hit them. He leaned back against the dresser, resting his elbows behind him. His chosen position allowed you a view of his chest and thick waist. How many times have you run your hands up and down that body? Fingers following each ripple and dip of muscles. You eyed him as you pulled them on, slowly. Very slowly. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his brown eyes narrowed in on the action.

He made to grab at your waist when you hopped out of his reach. “It’s too hot for that tonight.”

He feigned innocence with a languid shrug, his broad shoulders raising and falling, “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

While you finished getting ready for bed he completed his nightly routine making sure all windows and doors were closed and locked. He pulled the sheets back and jumped in, holding an opening for you to slide into. He made a sound of contentment as you melded yourself against him. Wriggling a little more than you needed you.

“Careful, lassie. Play nice,” his accent grew thick as he wrestled with sleep.

“Always,” you purred before turning to face him.

Now that it was night and the sun had gone down, you half expected it to cool. To your dismay, it didn't. You shifted around the bed for an hour before finally kicking the blankets off your legs. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your chest and forehead.

The arm that circled around you, squeezed "Stop your moving," Simon mumbled into your back.

You tried to. For a full minute, you remained still but when another unbearable heat wave hits, you threw his arm off you and spread out on your stomach. Simon half lifts his head and opens a single eye to glare at you.

"You're like a furnace," you push his way from you, his body heat becoming unbearable.

"Are ya calling me hot, lovey?" There was a hint of humour coating his weary words.

"No. I'm saying that you're sweaty. The air is hot," you gasp, then add, "Are you not hot?"

"No," He echoes, "I'm about to kick you to the floor if you don't shut up,"

You groaned a "no" into the pillow. Then you felt a hand lift the hair from your neck, letting cold air onto the newly exposed skin. A delicious chill ran down your back, and a small smile grew on your lips.

"Then stop talking," his hand returned to you but this time to lift the back of your shirt. Again a cool breeze hit your back. You coo at him. Deft fingers run up and down your back, leaving goosebumps rising in his wake.

"We need a fan," you turn your head to him to find his eyes on you.

He flicked your forehead, hard enough for it to hurt and leave a red mark. You cover your forehead in shock. “Stop talking,” he says before turning away from you, “Or I’ll give you something to be all hot and bothered about.”

You freeze, considering. Then shake your head and rise from the bed. Then you kick off the flat sheet that was still tangled around your limbs and kneel on the bench that was situated in front of the window. You opened the window, leaning out as far as you could without the fear of falling out.

“Lift your shirt for me,” You hear from back within the room.

“Just ignore me some more. You did a really good job of it earlier,” You peek back into the room to see him rising from the bed. He freezes mid-motion when he sees that you see him. Then the both of you are moving. You're scrambling off the bench and making a break for the door. He nearly pounced on you, his arm going around your waist and the other around your mouth. He was surprisingly fast for his size. Then he’s lifting you off the ground, your bare legs flailing in the air, and hauling you back to the bed. Your fingers dig into the wrist of the hand covering your mouth.

Then the world is on its side as he tosses you onto the sheets. You erupt into giggles. His hands flip you so you're on your back. Next, he's kneeling between your legs, hoving over you. He lowered his face so it was mere inches from yours, his teeth flashing as he snarls, “You’d make an awful boot, you don't listen to anything I say,”

Resting your hands on his chest stopping him from coming any closer. Biting your lip you wrap your hand around his dog tags, not wanting him to leave either, “It’s too hot, Simon.” you still wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his groin closer to yours.

He tilts his head to the side, the movement predatory. His eyes were impossibly darker from beneath his silken hair. Your breathing hitched at the sight. His eyes flick to the bedroom door, his expression giving away the fact that he was devising a plan.

His hands go to your legs, removing them from around him. You’re about to object when he says, “I'll be right back,” and he vanishes out the door. You strained your ears to hear what he was doing but since he’s trained to remain unseen it was futile.

Now alone, you rise up on your elbows and take the moment to scan the room. Not a single piece of clothing was laying on the floor. The TV neither of you uses had begun to collect dust, and you made a mental note to deal with it later. Behind the TV was a small collection of pictures. Most of them you had taken yourself. Some were taken in secret and sent to you at a later date. Almost all of them were of Simon and yourself. One or two of them were of your late cat.

On Simon’s bedside table was a picture that was taken by your own mother. It was you and him sitting on the stairs to the front porch. You were looking off to something ahead of you, your hands out as you spoke animatedly about something. What you were saying you couldn’t recall now. But Simon was looking directly at you, the softest of smiles gracing his usually snarky mouth, his eyes covered by the ratty blue baseball cap. Lord have mercy, he really was beautiful. You got it framed and snuck it onto the table, he never said anything about it being there, but he never moved it from its original place. In fact, you were pretty sure he adjusted it so it was facing the bed more.

The door creaked open and Simon reentered, closing the door behind him. He with a glass of iced water. He downed half of it before handing the rest to you. You greedily finished off the rest. Ice tinkled in the glass as he placed it on the table next to the framed photo. Still standing above you he bites down and you hear the crunch of ice. A slick heat pools low in your abdomen.

“Oh,” it’s barely a word as it comes out. Suddenly shy, you shove your hand into the covers to keep from grabbing at him.

“Lay back for me?” it was hardly a question, but you still obeyed him. “Close your eyes.”

With your eyes closed you could hear him come closer to you. A calloused hand roamed to your side, lifting the shirt you are wearing up to just below your breasts. You released a slow breath, moving your own hands to his stomach feeling the hard muscle. Something cold and wet was placed on your bottom lip. You gasped, pulling back from the sensation. Ice cubes, you realize. Your chest rose and fell rapidly.

He left a trail of cold from your mouth to your neck. His own lips, cold from ice water, follow, letting his teeth drag across your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him access to your throat. You let out a small squeak when he grabs another ice cube, this time tracing a line on your stomach. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and your eyes flew open to look at him. He was looking back up at you, analyzing every line and curve of your face.

"Better?" He said in a low voice. You hummed in response, your hands diving into his hair. "Good. Now shut yer fuckin’ mouth,"

He moves back up and puts his lips to yours, nipping at your lip. You open your mouth to him, his tongue diving in to explore you. Once again you wrap your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, tugging at the elastic of his sweats. All thoughts of the heat dissipated in the want of him. He pulled away from your mouth, leaving wet kisses down the length of your jaw, to the hollow of your throat, to your collarbone. It earned him a hard grind of your heat on him.

“Simon,” your voice was breathy and needy.

Then he was moving, lifting you to bring you back to the head of the bed. With his knees locking you in place, he raised above you to help take off your shirt. It disappeared into the shadows, and you were left bare to him, save for the little lacy panties of his choice. He was probably planning this from the beginning.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell” he groaned and ran a hand up from your stomach, trailing between your breasts and landing at your throat. His fingers delicately curled. You arched your back into the touch, eyelids fluttering shut. Again sweat beaded on your chest and forehead, only this time it was from a different time type of heat. Simon mumbled something as he brought his lips back to yours, but it was far too low for you to catch. The free hand drifted down the apex of your thighs, his finger digging into the bundle of nervousness there. The sound that came out of your mouth merely motivated him.

“Please,” you plead, grabbing his wrist with one hand, not to take it away but to make sure he doesn't remove it. He was silent as he worked you, little touches and small, tight circles. He wanted to observe all that he did to you.

If it weren’t for the slight tremble in his breathing you might have assumed he wasn’t enjoying this. That and the excitement shining in his brown eyes. His restraint was always impressive, but you wanted to see him snap.

Reach down between you and press your palm against the hardness hiding under his sweats. You traced the outline of his cock causing him to stumble in his movements, and eliciting an all male moan. His head fell to your shoulder.

“Slow,” he whispered into your skin, his breath fanning across your neck. Agonizingly slow you slipped your hand into his pants. He jerked at the touch. “Shit.”

He rocked his hips into your hand, timing it perfectly with his fingers. You squeezed around the head, and a dirty dirty sound escaped him. His fingers halted for a second before he could find his mind again. This time he shifted your panties to the side, dipping into your arousal, and coating his thick fingers.

“Jesus,” he muttered, looking down at his hand, “you dirty little thing. What do you want?”

“You,” you dragged a finger up this length.

“Nuh uh, tell me. Use your words,” he made a single teasing circle around your clit.

“I want your fingers inside me,” the words came out quicker than you expected them to. “Please.”

“Atta girl,” he’d be damned if he didn’t oblige you. Slowly moving a single finger inside, allowing you time to adjust. When you were ready you shifted your hips, leisurely rolling them. “There you go. Show me how you like it.”

He pumped once, twice. Added another finger. Then matched your rhythm, curling his fingers so they hit that one spot every time he dragged his fingers back out. Your hands continued with their own adventure, tugging his pants down just enough to free his cock. It knocked against his stomach, twitching when you grabbed him again. He sucked in a tight breath.

“Just like that, good girl,” he groaned. His fingers picked up speed and so did your hand. Both chasing an apex.

All you could manage was a strangled mess of words in response. You lifted your eyes to his only to see he was already looking at you. His brows taught with pleasure. Then a brash grin appeared. He removed his fingers from you, and you almost slapped him. The thought vanished when he shoved those same fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. A silent command to open up. You opened your mouth and he leaned forward to spit. The sound of it was lewd, but you revelled in it. You whimpered before closing your mouth around his digits and sucked, running your tongue underneath and between them. Showing him what you’d do if he put his cock in your mouth instead.

“Put it in,” he gritted out if only to keep from whining. He pushed your panties off to the side again, allowing you access. You rubbed him around the wetness to make the entry easier. He was big, sometimes a little too big. Any bit of assistance you had you used when it came to him. Then you guided him in, biting down on his fingers to mediate the pain. He took his time, adjusting himself so he could place one hand on your hip and the other tangling in your hair.

You moaned in unison as he bottomed out. You reached out to grasp his face, pulling it to yours to catch him in a hot open mouthed kiss. Teeth gnashing and tongues darting out to lick and breathe each other in. His fingers tightened on your hip, hard enough that little finger shaped bruises would appear tomorrow. The hand that was previously in your hair moved to your thigh, pressing your leg out and down into the bed, allowing him deeper inside your cunt.

The room was filled with his guttural moans and your deprived whines. Along with the wet slapping sounds of him thrusting into your heat. You tightened around him and took that as a sign you were close because his movements became faster and deeper. One hand slapped over your mouth because you knew this apex was going to make you scream. You were already shaking, bucking against him. Your other hand grappled at the sheets, pulling at them in desperation. He shifted, bringing his knees underneath you so your hips were elevated, and both hands were at your hips, bringing you onto him. The position made it so he’d hit your g-spot, and that was the end of you.

“Cum for me baby,” he huffed as he watched you stiffen and your eyes rolled. Your vision goes momentarily, and your back bowed off the bed. All followed by a choked sob. A hand flying to where you connected, pressing against his abdomen to try and slow his relentless pace. Before you were able to completely come down from the orgasm, he flipped you onto your stomach. “Give me one more.”

You mewed at him. His hand made a quick swipe along your cunt making you jolt and shoved himself back inside. He lifted your hips off the bed so you were on your knees. You were acutely aware of the slick that leaked down the inside of your thighs. With your ass still up for him you slid your upper half back down onto the bed, muffling your moans into the bed. He braced both his hands beside your head, the position reminding you just how much bigger he was than you. He captured one of your hand's underneath his, fingers intertwining. You used your free one to get underneath you and rub your clit. He noticed the action and lulled his forehead so it was resting on your back, his cock twitching inside of you. His own hand possessively replaced yours between your legs.

Let me take care of you, it said.

You wrapped around his wrist, in case you needed to pull him away as you were nearing overstimulation. His breath fanned across your neck, and his lips found your skin. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

It felt like he was everywhere, engulfing you. All but one pillow had ended up on the floor, and you pulled it into your face, biting at the fabric as yet another climax hit you. It wasn’t long after you that Simon followed, his pace stuttering as he filled you. His last couple thrust harder and more desperate than the rest. He stifled a whimper and the sound of your name on his lips was like ecstasy.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. Eyes watchful as he pulled out of you, and more specifically his cum leaking out. He dragged a finger up your cunt, catching it all before shoving it back inside. “Mm’my god.”

You pulled away from his touch, even the slightest pressure right now would make you sob.

“I love you,” he turned you onto your side, his hand gentle on your skin. Skimming over your curves.

“I love you more,” you teased, pushing his hair back away from his now-damp face. Your heart skipped at the sight of him. When he was completely at ease like this he looked so youthful. Every worry and burden lifted off his shoulders ever so slightly.

“Want a wet cloth?” he leaned into your touch, before pulling away when you nodded.

He returned with a warm, damp cloth. Wiping at you as gently as he could, then moved to your thighs, and stomach. Your face heated when you realized he was covered in your arousal too. The V leading down to his manhood was glistening with it. Although he didn’t seem to care it made you a little sheepish.

“Maybe another shower,” you said, sitting up and pulling him back into the bathroom.

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

#simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod x y/n #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon riley smut #lemon #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #cod smut #MistyGhosties #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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phoenixyfriend · 8 months

Text

This is about modern AUs and fic settings and what is FUN for them, not about your favorite ship. I repeat: You are not voting for your favorite ship overall.

I REPEAT: You are not voting for an endgame ship. The new romance is with an unrelated person.

Do not comment with any ship hate. This is for fun and shenanigans and ribbing each other in good humor. Do I ship all of these? No. Do I think those ships I don't personally go hunting for are bad? Also no. We are all just here to play around with words and pixels on a screen.

"Why did you do the bolding and the red?" I do a lot of polls for fun and you would not believe the number of tags and comments I get with "oh I didn't read the question and voted wrong."

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

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Yandere Manager

Managers can teeter on the edge of being the most helpful and supportive authorities in your life or the worst. More often leaning toward the latter, it isn’t bizarre to feel helpless when they put a strain on your paycheck or your general health during and outside the work day. It’s infuriating and downright despairful when they use the power of management to make you miserable. But you can always file a report to HR or the branch head. Sometimes it’ll work but not always. More likely than not there’s more support for them further down the line which makes it even harder to contest.

“(Y/n) didn’t I tell you to smile when you’re at the front? S-M-I-L-E!”

But there’s something just as alarming about the manager who doesn’t have that. No favor from directors, open to the reprimands of human resources, and even a criminal record to boot. There’s something that compels you to listen when you look for an ounce of sympathy in those amber eyes to find a tempest of unhinged madness. You can only begin to visualize in a fever-driven nightmare.

That’s your manager.

The lovely, awful, and disastrous manager that fills you with helplessness like no other.

Yandere Manager is just so naggy. Not only to you but your coworkers as well because there’s always something to comment on. Even when it’s not insulting or condescending it just rubs everyone the wrong way.

“The way the uniform looks on you makes it look like we dragged you off the street.”

“....”

“....You’re the one who gave her a uniform that isn’t her size.”

“Yeah, but she’s the one who looks homeless. (Y/n) how about you mind your business and actually do your job. Thanks!”

Yandere Manager is especially unpredictable in his support of you. Sometimes joining unruly customers when they blame you for something you messed up on. While also defending you over something small that didn’t require anyone’s input let alone his. Situations with entitled customers is a coin toss with him.

“Miss I’ll just remake the drink for you.”

“No no, you don’t have to I just want to know what was used instead of oat milk.”

“Oh okay then it's…Mr. Manager?”

“....YOU!?”

“Me?”

“Oh no.”

“NEVER WALK INTO MY ESTABLISHMENT AGAIN!”

“What why? I didn’t–”

“IF YOU REFUSE TO LEAVE I’LL HAVE TO REMOVE YOU BY FORCE.”

“Ahhh!”

“Wait! You don’t need the crossbow! Put it down!”

“DON’T EVER SPEAK TO MY EMPLOYEE EVER AGAIN!”

You can hardly pinpoint a pattern to his discord even after his honest confession when you catch him rifling through your things. But he won’t explain why he steals your lunch or makes fun of you in front of your coworkers. Or why he slashes your tires and breaks the windows of your home. It gets so bad you’re starting to think he uses this supposed obsession as an excuse for his behavior.

“Will you please explain why you broke into my car…for the fourth time?”

“Hmmm no.”

“...fine don’t. Now get out.”

“No I don’t think I will.”

“I have pepper spray and a tasor.”

“I can handle pepper spray.”

~Kzzt~

“Okay fine, you win this time.”

But despite your suspicions, he’s very much obsessed. Convinced he’s owed your affections he doesn’t mind breaking into your home, invading your personal space, and making light fun-as lovers do. No, his more sporadic actions happen to be something like knee-jerk reactions of his love for you. Similar to cuteness aggression. Because in his mind he’d prefer to break another window of yours than murder the family next door for looking at you too long.

“This will have to do for now. I mean they can’t pin me for their carelessness when driving into a ditch, right?”

Usually, he doesn’t mind just doing whatever he feels like but since you’ve caught and called the police on him he’s on a tight leash. Not because he’s at all afraid of the police. Not at all. It’s because then he’ll be breaking the hold he has on you. Let me explain.

The minute he did the slightest thing out of line you called the higher-ups who threatened him and assured you he’d be fired. Great. But when he cornered you in your own home with the possibility that this wouldn’t stop when he was fired you had to pause.

“Sure you might get rid of me at work but then you’ll never know where I am. Instead of staying at work with you, I might just be in your room or at your friend’s house, or in your car!”

“T-t-then I’ll call the police on you!”

“After I’ve already left? Well sure they can serve an order and arrest me if I’m too close but when I break out–and trust me I will–you’ll have no idea when or where I’ll be coming from. I’ll be a constant boogeyman over your life if you kick me out now.”

“.....”

“So don’t get me fired, kay?”

Yandere Manager who is only given a warning by his employers and police before you stop attempting to get others involved. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s completely right. For all the times you find him breaking in, already broken in, or stealing something of yours he’s never lied to you. The same can’t be said for others but even when he’s doing something wrong he’ll always be honest with you.

“Mister Manager? Did you do something to my lunch?”

“No! How dare you accuse me of such a deplorable thing! I should write you up.”

“....(Y/n)?”

“Clyde.”

“What?”

“Did you mess with his food?”

“Yes.”

“Dude are you serious?!”

Life with Yandere Manager isn’t going to be easy at first but when has it ever been for an employee like yourself? It’s best that you get used to your Manager’s obsession, heck it might help make your grueling shift a little bit better.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere oc x reader #yandere original characters #yandere manager #yandere original character #yandere oc x you #yandere ocs #yandere ocs x reader #yandere manager x reader

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bangytell · 6 months

Text

The room beside me | sg m

Spend the summer of a lifetime with me, let me take you to the place of your dreams. Double take—druv

Summary: Your roommate who's also your best friend accidentally hears you pampering yourself and now he yearns to have you

Genre: smut, friends to lovers

Rated: mature +18

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 3.5k words

Warnings: f! reader, g!teacher mentions of nicknames (pookie, baby, etc) oral and fingering (f! receveing) protected sex (always do this girlies) mentions of jealousy [from Satoru]

a/n: heyy girlies please enjoyy i hope you really like this one as much as i did.

“Hey pookie, i brought you takoyaki from that place that you…” gasps of air, saccharine moans, and a heavy breathing came from your door

You didn’t bring nobody over ‘cause you were just arriving from school, not that far apart since he only stayed half hour looking through papers.

What can he do now? Stay put and listen? Open the door and join? No, no, Satoru, bring yourself together. He went outside after leaving the takoyaki on the table.

But oh, those sweet sounds from you were already on his mind. He never thought of you in that way, more in a platonic where nothing can happen kinda way

His hardened cock soon showed, in the middle of the street, great.

After hearing the door closing, you were uncertain about the noises outside, was it him?

Your goofy and annoying roommate slash co worker slash sorta best friend, it can't be, he was taking longer in school.

when you reached your climax and the silence hit you, the fear crawled up to your shoulders, what if it was him?

the hunger hit you, on top of your table were a tray of tokoyaki, Satoru were here before, did he heard you?

If he did, you hope he doesn't bring it up, you've heard him before, pampering himself in the shower, his moans are a tad lower and raspy.

But him hearing you was different a lot different what if he heard you calling his name in soft whispers while you imagine having him, in any possible way even if it isn't for long, just hearing that way he says your name so sweet and gentle while you gasp for air with his hard cock inside of you.

Gojo opens the door when you have a tokoyaki inside your mouth

"Hey pookie" you gift him a lip smile, since the food is still processing inside your mouth "Ah, I knew you'd be eating" he chuckles

"You just arrived?"after a gulp of your mouthful of food you speak up, he denies with his head

Oh.

"I was here, left the tokoyaki and remembered i forgot something, and then i remembered i had it on me the whole time" you chuckle and he does too

Were your eyes always this shiny? Gojo thinks to himself

"Let me guess, your keys?" he nods and loose himself to the hall, into his room

That was weird, even for Satoru, he would often sit down and make you talk about your day, so he can talk about his and how every student tries desperately to get his attention.

Being a full time teacher at the same university is sometimes tiring, until you get home and listen to Gojo blurt out his whole day to you, you're worried.

One, two, three knocks and a soft "Toru" leaving your mouth

"Yeah?" he sounds… as if he were running a marathon

"Jus' checking if you're okay" he hums and you walk away, something must be on his mind.

You devoured the tray he brought you while watching a sitcom, later you hear footsteps as he was out of the shower, with the towel wrapped around his waist, wet strands of hair falling on his face while he dried it with another.

He was worth looking at, his porcelain skin that went so well with his white hair and the cherry on top were those mesmerizing sapphire eyes that were looking at your gaze right now, you turned away to the television again.

“What are you watching” you could smell his body wash by now

“The office” he looks at you, with an angry frown

“I thought we watched that together” you chuckle

“I restarted it” he walks away again, to change, you assume “Hey Satoru, did you clean the shower?”

His head appears from the corner of the eye of the door

“I did not” you chuckle “but now that you offer” you laugh

“I will not clean if you’re out of there, i know what you do” now he’s walking your way, sits on the sofa next to you and laughs

“And what is that you are so certain that i do Miss”

“You know what you do, don’t make me say it” he leans closer to you, smelling clean and swallowing you whole within those blue eyes

“You listen to me, you perv?” he says with a playful grin and tone

“You’re just loud, and the walls are very thin” he pulls away and you breath again

“I guess” with the muffled sound of the tv, and a few chuckles now and then the night greets you

“You never told me how your day went” you locked gaze

“A bit tiring, since finals are coming, everything just feels on top of me” you nod, in agreement

“Since you leave everything last minute ‘m sure how you’re feeling” he chuckles

“I do not”

“Why do you work? I know you have the money to leave the school, why don’t you just?...”

“I cut loose of my family” he never brings his family to subject “And I do have the money i jus’ wanna feel like i contribute”

“So you’re like super rich and jus’ teach for fun” he chuckles

“Well you got one right” and the power went out, everything went silent and he reached his hand to you, the thought of him worrying about you made your heart beat in excitement

“I’m good Toru, i haven’t got up” you chuckle and the sound of heavy rain began to hit your ceiling

“The weather announced the rain?” he asks as if it wasn’t obvious by now of the pouring rain

“I don’t check the weather i’m not 60” you chuckle at unison

“Is going to be a cold and long night for me” with the help of your cellphone you light up the lantern

He is walking behind you guiding through the light

“You can come to my bed if you like” you stop your walk “Jus’ to sleep, we have sleep together before” he’s right, but now it feels different

“I don’ wanna bother” he chuckles

”You’re too small for that “ he likes the way the dim light of the lantern colors your features, and the way your pajama makes you look as when you were in college

“You never bother me” he smiles and you blush

“Night Toru” he adores that sweet nickname since you studied together

The next day, after sayin morning to shoko and geto you know them trough Satoru and now you’re friends as well, kinda, you got your coffee cup and went to class

When you got home, alone, because Gojo again left everything to the end of the day, the light is still out and it's been light raining all day, you’ve had a bad face all day since sleep was so bad, unconsciously you reach Gojo’s room, he wouldn’t mind if you take a nap there, right? His room is much better since the window gives direct sunlight and it can warm all over, you love your room, when the ac is working.

When Gojo gets home later than he expected, he’s soaking wet since the rain started a while ago. The power is still out, so he begins to call out your name to see if you were at home already.

No answer. As he walks closer realizes his door is open, and the moon gives him enough light to know that you’re sleeping in his bed, calmly breathing and buffing coming through your mouth.

“Toru… please stay” you say, in a whisper, he knows for a fact that you babble a few words when you sleep and finds it so endearing.

But you call for his name, in a pleading to stay, you were dreaming about him, maybe he misheard. Then a soft moan escapes your mouth and he’s just standing there, like a confused teenager, but he stays there, to listen more, to know if this is truly about him.

“Mhmm yes… Toru, jus’ like that” his name, leaving your mouth and she most surely see’s his friend in that way, sexually maybe even emotionally. He grabbed a change of clothes, careful not to wake you and walked out to take a shower, since his hardened cock was pressing against his clothes in a cry for touch.

You wake up a few minutes after he opens the stream of water, the need of touch makes you wake up in an instant, hearing the water makes your thoughts calm, if Gojo was here you couldn’t be touching yourself.

You had a few texts from Suguru, asking if Gojo got home, if he was okay and if you were okay. You chuckled and answered his questions.

[We’re both okay, Satoru is in the shower so i’ll tell him to answer to you when his out]

[Jus’ wanted to know if you were okay, you practically run every time the classes are over] you chuckle, you don’t feel like staying and talk to anyone, and you were sleepy today

[Oh.

Well is jus’ that i didn’t had a good night of sleep yesterday]

[What about every other day?] you smile and then, the sound of Gojo clearing his throat startled you, his eyes looked tired and he had a frown adorning his face

“Who are you talking to?” you stood up, to walk to your room, but he stands in the way

“Suguru was asking me if you got home” he opened his eyes in amazement

“How does he have your number?” he sounded angry

“Well, i gave it to him” you were mesmerized by his eyes , not letting you move an inch away

“And you guys talk often?” you deny

“He wanted to know if you got home okay” he snorts and move along into his room

“I don’t think you should be talking to him” you looked confused “He’s a womanizer” you chuckle

“I don’t think he’s interested in that way” he raises an eyebrow

“And why is that, he told you?” you deny

“No, i jus’ don’t think a guy like Suguru would pick me as an interest” you giggle

“And how could you know?” his tone is serious, like if he was trying to make one of his students to understand something

“Even if he is, i know how to take care of myself Gojo, stop acting like my father” he denies, and you walk away.

Open a can of coke and sit on the couch in the dim light of candles, and your phone buzz again, is Geto

[Did I say something wrong?] you smile

[No, Suguru, just got distracted]

[Please, call me Geto and what does it get to get you distracted] you blush and start to type away another answer

[Well, Geto, it depends, are you trying to take me on a date]

Satoru opens the fridge, gets a coke too and sits next to you

“Why are you blushing? you saw me enter the room?” you giggle and look at him

“You have your ego way up your ass” he holds a hand on his chest, looking hurt

“Did you sleep well in my bed?” he grins looking at your blushed cheeks

“Sorry, the sunlight was hitting your bed when i got home and i was so sleepy” he chuckles

“I told you to sleep with me but you’re so stubborn”

“I am not” he laughs and closes his eyes, he’s soo pretty when he does that you think

“If you aren’t, sleep with me tonight”

"I uh…" he startled you

"You love proving me wrong so badly that I know for a fact you don’t have a negative thought to my idea" he chuckles and you pout, he knows you too much

Without thinking it too much, you two end up cuddling together inside his sheets.

He can't stop to think about the idea of his friend interested in you, he's not the type to get jealous and make a scene about it, or so he thought until he notice the soft smile you would give to his texts, he knows his friend and knows how everything can go his way

"You're thinking too loud" he chuckles

"Do you like Suguru?" he blurts out, it's better to ask now before he loses his mind

"Yeah, he's nice" he deny and snorts

"Not like that, I know he's nice, he's nice to everyone I mean like physically" you have your back on him and he's distracting himself looking at the ceiling.

"He's handsome, and you can tell that he works out… and his long hair in that man bun he's always using I don't know how he can pull that look so well, and he sometimes holds the door for me in the teachers room…"

"It's a simple yes or no question you don't have to tell me all those details" you chuckle

"Well, yeah I do find him attractive, why?" he snorts

"Do you find me attractive?" you stop your thoughts, and even if you would like to kiss him right in that second just to prove him how much you think how attractive he is

"You have pretty eyes" he chuckles

"Answer me, please" You're confused, why would he need that type of assurance that you find him attractive, why would you matter?

"Well, yes Satoru, i think you're very attractive" he huffs and closes his eyes

"More than Geto?" Is he... insecure right now?

"Yes, more than Suguru" you answer, to make your friend feel better or so you try to fool yourself

"Thank you" you smile, even tho he can't see you, those words sounded sincere

After a few more minutes you weren't able to get yourself to sleep.

"Toru… are you awake?" he hums in response "i can't sleep" he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to him

Probably he didn't notice, but his hardened cock was rubbing against you and the heat inside you started to crawl up.

"Stop thinking, jus' close your eyes honey" his voice sounds saccharine and raspy

"It isn't that simple" he snorts and whisper in your ear

"Think about me then" that doesn't help either, you think, while his cock still is close to your skin but so far at the same time

"Toru… don't be like this" his breathing is slow, so you think that he must be falling asleep or sleep already

"Guess I'll just text Suguru, to know if his up" he turns you around so you face him, you didn’t knew the strength he had until that moment

“I can help you fall asleep” you chuckle

“Wow Satoru, were you always this strong?” he snorts and you keep laughing

“Why would you be so upset if I dated Suguru?” the dim light of the thunders and the moon gave you a glimpse of his features

“Maybe ‘cause i be jealous” he looks away from you

“Jealous of me for stealing Suguru from you?” you chuckle and he looks at you

“More of the opposite” everything stops for you, suddenly the pouring rain wasn’t heavy on the roof, the thunders stopped their rumbling and all you could see, hear and feel was Gojo Satoru and his hopeful blue eyes staring directly at you.

“Stop messing around Toru” he chuckles

“I wouldn’t play with something like this” and you’re heavy breathing, thinking of all the times you wished to just hold and told him that you feel so much for him, how all those years together made you see him as more than friend, how even he is so full of himself you know he also cares for other, encourages and challenges every person around him and you admire him, but you cherished him so badly that the thought of calling out your feelings to him would ruin your friendship, and you’d rather suffer in silence if that meant living around the person you love. And now he was sort of… confessing to you?

“What do you mean?” you huff and feel a lack of air through your lungs as if you know that your feelings made you feel this way

“Well, I don’t know how to explain myself” he huffs this time “But the other day, that I brought you the takoyaki i heard you… pampering yourself” you opened your eyes in surprise “By accident, I thought i surprised you with takoyaki since you ran from your classroom to here everyday… and then uhm… I started to feel the need to hear and feel you, i thought i was just being physical”

“I’m so embarrassed right now” he chuckles and grabs you by the chin so you look at his eyes

“Then I saw the smile you were giving to him, and the thought of you with another man just made my blood boil” what a possessive “I found myself thinking about you all day, when i heard you calling my name on your dreams I just… i think i have always liked you”

“As a friend?” he was leaning closer, every breath you could feel it close to you

“No… more than a friend” you gulp the saliva on you throat

“As best friends” he chuckles

He leans in and presses his lips with yours in a saccharine kiss, slow and soft as he opens his mouth to deepen the pace. Your hands go to his chest to grab from something as the lack of air pulls you apart from him.

“Is that enough answer to you?” you lean closer and breath in his cologne

“I might need a bit more than that” as he chuckles you kiss again, pulling closer each time feeling his throbbing cock against you as he stroke against you in need you lower your hand to touch him, to feel what you’ve been yearning for, Satoru moans in between the kiss.

“Baby… please, let’s focus on the kiss” you chuckle

“I get so distracted by it” you pant and he chuckles this time

“We don’t have to do it if you…”

“C’mon Toru i’m not a teenager, we’re not teenegers” He stands up and pulls away his clothes, and helps you with yours

“God, you’re body is amazing” is because there’s no light in here you think to yourself

“You’re not so bad yourself” he chuckles coming back to bed and accommodating his body hovering you, you begin to kiss again in a sloppy and needy pace, his body begins to stroke yours

he leans to kiss your neck and your legs shiver and tremble

“You should get a condom” he pouts and gets up to grab one from his night stand

He puts it on and proceeds to make his way to your wet and throbbing cunt, you moan when his tongue licks over your clit, and you knew that he would know exactly how to make you feel good, your saccharine moans fill the room and when his mouth begin to hum you felt the vibrations you began to quiver, his fingers make its way inside your folds and the moans leaving your mouth are loud, you feel his digits work his way inside of you.

“Toru…- stop… or ‘m gonna cum” he chuckles, pulling his face away to look at you

“Jus’ by my fingers? oh pookie but i haven’t been inside you yet” you quiver again when his pace quickens.

“Toru…-please i need you” you pant, he pulls away and accommodates his body once again to hover you.

The tip of his cock rubs against your folds and you feel needy, so needy for him

He doesn’t makes you wait any longer to make his way inside of you, you pant when he reaches your sweet spot. he thrust against you and his digits found your clit and began to rub, you’re both panting and moaning each other name like a prayer, after a few strokes to your throbbing clit you announce your climax, and he listens and continues his pace and movements.

The waves of your climax hits you, makes your back arch and pant his name so sweetly.

“Yes, baby, cum for me… ah… you’re so tight, you squeeze my cock so good”

he thrust sloppier and pants your name with raspy moans and cums inside the condom

Lying his head in the cup of your neck, feeling your skin with him and heavy breathing recovering from your climax.

“Hey Toru, i feel all sweaty” he chuckles and you feel the vibrations on your body

“C’mon enjoy this moment skin to skin” and you want to so you stay like that for a while longer.

He pulls away, throwing the condom away, then returning to bed and cuddling you.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” he chuckles at your question

“Would you let me date you?” you smile while looking to his eyes stroking strings of his sweaty hair

“I would be really happy Toru” he smiles

“Of course you would pookie” and you chuckle

Seems that your roommate also felt the need to have you as much as you did.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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luimagines · 6 days

Text

Two in a Bush

Another commission!

They asked for Reader getting separated in a dungeon and Wild panics to find them. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild wasn’t sure what to expect of a place like this.

He didn’t have anything like this in his world. He had the Divine Beasts that he had to figure out but those were giant mechanical weapons. Not some fortress that had a hidden secret at the end.

Comparing the two- he supposes they aren’t all that different. From the monsters, to the puzzles, to even the multiple floors for a few of them, Wild could confidently say that he still had no idea what he was doing. Luckily, many of the others seemed to have more than enough practice and experience to go around. Wild was more than happy to leave the spearheading to them.

It gave him an excuse to look after you instead.

You were a special circumstance amongst this group of heroes. It caught Wild’s attention in more ways than one.

It was just unfortunate that you had zero fighting experience like the rest of them. Not that he personally considered it a fault of yours, don’t misunderstand him, but the idea of being with a group that does nothing but fight without being able to fight didn’t sit right with him. Granted, he was happy and delighted by the idea that you came from a place where you could live normally. It made him jealous in a good way. He wanted that for himself as well- but you would have had it from the beginning and that’s something that he knew he would never achieve.

However this also meant that they would have to be on the lookout for you specifically. Without any knowledge of how to properly defend yourself, it meant that they would have to pick up the slack.

Not that they would ever phrase it that way and much less to your face. Wild had thought that he could take the opportunities to look cooler and more heroic in an attempt to catch your attention but even he knew that it was a fool’s dream to picture it that way… That didn’t stop him from day dreaming though.

Regardless, he stuck by your side as the group explored the dungeon, sword at the ready and willing to defend you if needed.

You seemed content to explore the dungeon just like the rest of them, keeping pace and looking around with childlike wonder on your face. It made Wild smile.

Suddenly, the group was attacked.

Everyone sprang into action, Wild included to take down the threats in the new room. While there was usually only a handful per section, this room had an unusually high amount of monsters. It took all hands on deck to diminish the threat and clear the area before they could continue exploring.

Wild was lucky enough to stay behind the larger hoard of monsters, shooting at the threats to help his brother before they broke the line. He switched to his sword and charged ahead, slashing the threats along with the others until there weren’t any left. Tired, but relieved, Wild turned back to you with a smile on your face.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

His heart dropped and so did his sword from his hand. The metal clang echoed in the room. “Guys?”

Many turned their heads to him.

Wild looked back to the group asking for where you were, prompting them to look around the room as well. Wild didn’t like the looks on their faces as they came to the same conclusion they did.

“Where did they go?” Wind scratched the top of their head.

“Were they pushed out of the room?” Twilight stood straighter, jogging to the entrance for a better look.

Hyrule followed the Rancher without missing a beat. “If they didn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands than any puzzle we can find in this dungeon.”

Wild could feel his anxiety rise within him. You were right there. How could he lose you? There’s still more monsters to go through. You can’t fight them. You can’t. He needs to find you. He needs to find you now.

“Oh hello.” Legend whistles, calling the attention of the others. “Champion, were you over here at first?”

Wild turns around and nods. “Yeah, I tried to keep them here so they wouldn’t be cornered so easily if they had to run.”

He doesn’t like the look on Legend’s face. There’s a panel on the wall but Wild didn’t think much of it at first.

Legend points to it. “Who wants to bet they’re on the other side?”

“What?” Warrior furrows his eyebrows. “What does a weird wall with a human shape have to do with-”

Legend grins and places himself in the human imprint. The wall spins suddenly with a quiet whirr and returns to its original position. Without Legend in it.

Wild doesn’t want to waste any time. He runs to the panel despite the cries of the other boys, too in shock over Legend’s disappearance to stop him from doing the same. He places his back to the metal and gasps as it spins just as it did for the Veteran.

He comes face to face with another room entirely and takes a step away. The wall stays the same.

Legend dusts himself as he takes in the new room. He’s looking at the map they collected earlier, trying to figure out where they go and where this would lead. He’s scratching the side of his head, pushing his hat to a dangerous edge where it could fall off with one movement. He looks perplexed. He doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Wild doesn’t want to think about going into uncharted waters and what that could mean for you.

Wild scans the room as well. There’s some more monster hidden in the shadows to his left and there’s a deadend to his right. In front of him, there is a hallway just beyond the room but there’s another exit just ahead of the monsters.

The monsters notice him and begin to make their way closer to the duo. The wall behind them spins again, signaling the arrival of a third member but Wild pays no attention to it.

He still can’t find you so he takes off running, picking a random exit in hopes that it leads him to where you could be. How far could you get in such a short time? Surely he could catch up in time before something happens, right?

He hears the Four call after him but he pays no mind to it. Footsteps begin to echo behind him along with the muffled cries of the monsters as they were shot on sight.

Wild takes a deep breath and looks around. He finds a new spot but there’s still no sign of you, even as he desperately begins to call for your name. There’s more monsters in this new room and he’s quick to deal with them. His building panic and frustration adds fuel to the fire as he channels it into a quiet rage to kill the offending beasts.

Once the room is empty, it remains empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, Wild turns on his heels and runs out as fast as his feet can carry him.

He’s already lost. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the others are, nor does he hear them anymore. His breath is the only sound to surround him. It comes out haggard and stunted. He coughs- feeling a drop of saliva attempt to go down the wrong pipe.

Wild whips his head up, not bothering to continue catching his breath. He starts running again, finding a new path into a new room. There’s more monsters and he deals with them as quickly as the prior ones.

Panic has fully set into his bones as each turn produces more and more failure.

Tears well up in eyes and in his frustration, Wild punches the wall. He hurts his hands more than he hurts the wall.

As in response, he hears a sound. It’s muffled and faint, but he can hear the familiar cry of rage and determination just beyond the bricks and mortar. It’s a battle cry.

It sounds like you.

Spurred on by the sound, Wild goes on the attack. He beats the wall with everything he has before the ground beneath him gives way. He tumbles and instinctually tucks himself into a ball. Wild wraps his arms around his head and uses his legs to try and gain control of his graceless descent. He eventually comes to a grinding halt and he unfurls himself from the positions he’s put himself in.

He is only inches away from the edge of what appears to be a cliff. His heart jumps at the sight as he rolls away.

Wild, remembering why he had tried to get through the wall to begin with, pushes himself to his feet.

A monster cries before it dies, quickly followed by more and more sounds of pain and anger. Another battle cry rings out, this time much more clear than what Wild had heard previously.

It is most definitely you.

Wild looks over the edge hesitantly. It would be great if he had finally found you… But it would be a hit to his psyche if he were to see you in battle. He’s afraid of what he might see. Are you hurt? Are you terrified?

He looks over anyway.

Instead of terror, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that same determined look on your face that he’s seen on so many other faces. Your eyebrows are closely knit together and there’s a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

They’re hardened and sharp. There’s an ax in your hand that you no doubt stole from one of the monsters you must have come across. You look angry and there’s multiple splatters of blood over your clothes and exposed skin. The fabric that covers sticks to your body from the sweat you’ve produced from the intensity you’ve put into defending yourself.

Wild finds himself glued to your figure. You fight ferociously even though your lack of training is evident. He watches you with his jaw agape and his hand on the handle of the sheikah slate. He’s entranced. This is hot.

The sheikah makes the familiar sound of a picture being taken before he reaches for his bow. From above, he aims for the monsters that come against you. His attacks throw the monsters into confusion as they search for the second hidden threat. The distraction gives you the perfect opportunity to strike them back and finish them off.

Once the last of the monsters has fallen, its body fallen beside the others, you take the last remaining part of your sleeve and wipe your forehead. You smear the blood splotches over your cheek in the process. Wild takes another picture. You look up, using your hand to try and block out any competing light and see him.

Wild snaps one more picture, hoping that it catches the way you instantly relax and smile up at him. He hopes he catches the way your eyes light up at the sight of him and the way you’ve held the weapon high in the air in greeting, making it look more like a victory stance over your enemies. He waves back enthusiastically. He’s never felt more proud in his life. “You did it!”

“Link!” You cry back and drop the weapon. You run close to the cliff, craning your neck to your sight on him. “You found me!”

Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Wild shakes his head affectionately and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t see your eyebrows furrow again or the confused tilt to your head. Instead, Wild takes a running leap and jumps off of the cliff. He opens up the paraglider and uses it to glide down safely to where you stand.

You run to him before he hits the ground, nearly tackling him as he lands. Wild wraps his arms around you instinctually, calming his pounding heart now that you’ve returned safely to his arms. You take in a shuddering breath and tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You feel inclined to repeat yourself. “You found me.”

“I wouldn’t stop searching until I did.” Wild whispers. He pulls back and wipes the remaining blood off of your face. “What happened? How did you end up here?”

You smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck. “During that first fight, I got pushed back far enough into the wall. It spun around and next thing I knew, I was in another room. I saw the monsters on the far end and figured that it would be better to not be spotted. I snuck out and only ran into more monsters so I kept going. Next thing I know I ended up down here and couldn’t not fight back.”

“Where did you even get the ax?”

“I stole it.”

Wild snickers and finally lets you go. His hands rest on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You grin in return, putting on a smirk. “I just pretended they were customers on Black Friday. I’ve always wanted to fend them off with a stick.”

He has no idea what that means. “Ok- but you had an ax and they were monsters.”

“...High stakes Black Friday shoppers.”

Wild hangs his head in defeat. He tries his hardest to not laugh at your facial expression. It seems as if you know what you’re talking about at least, so it’s a small comfort. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are the others waiting for us?” You take his hand, stepping in time with him as he takes a good look around this new area. For the better part, it looks like a ditch with no way in or out- except for above.

“Sooomething like that.” Wild chews on his lip, switching to his climbing gear. He picks you up with zero hesitation, throwing you onto his back and he begins to scale the wall. You yelp and shriek, hitting his back as he climbs.

“Hey! A warning would have been great!”

“Hang on. I got this.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort. He’s ignoring your tone on purpose. Slowly, you adjust yourself on his back so you don’t fall off and wait until he’s reached the top. Once he lets you down, you smack the back of his head.

He blocks it effortlessly, leaning in instead to kiss your cheek. There’s laughter on his breath as he checks you out once more. “I hope you're ready for a lot of walking. I’ll have you know that we are very lost.”

“Are we?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment and look back at Wild. You end up chewing on your lip as well. “Are we in trouble?”

“You? No. Me? Most definitely.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu wild #the title was a placeholder #and it stuck #it has nothing to do with the story ^.^*

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