#i read By the Pricking of My Thumbs a few days ago and I just finished Sleeping Murder today so they were both fresh in my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

folkpunkchicken · 9 months

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Everything Leads Up To Now

I could feel my back stiffen up as I leaned back against the hard wooden church pew. Sitting there only a few minutes waiting for Pete's dad to get up and speak felt like hours. Staring at the front of the empty pulpit I couldn't help but to imagine the last few days leading up to this moment.

I wrapped my arms around my torso and clenched both my biceps with my fists as I felt a shiver shoot throughout my entire body just like I would imagine a lightning strike to feel like. The building was cold, both temperature wise as well as from the lifeless air that you could hear from the silence of the congregation breathing aloud while mourning silently.

I didn't listen to a word that Pete's father spoke, but when he got down from the pulpit the preacher got up to say a few closing words.

I laid my head back against the pew and stared blankly up at the ceiling. I only understood about every other word which the preacher was reading aloud. He was reading from the book of, uh, John, I think. "Do not let...hearts...troubled, blah blah, something something..." I zoned out after that. Not that I ain't into religion or nothin', in fact I actually kind of enjoy hearing what some preachers have to say, spiritual things just weren't on the front of my mind. I was afterall only a fourteen year old kid. Instead, I liked to think about things like tuff cars and fast women. Right now however, the only thing on my mind was replaying the events of the last few days.

I looked over to see Sally sitting with her family as she read the back of her favorite MxPx album pamphlet. She always carried with her the words to whatever pop punk record she was listening to on her Walkman CD player.

I looked to my other side and didn't see anyone else I recognized. "Where's Erik?" I asked my brother Jason who was sitting next to me.

"Shush!" He motioned with his index finger over his thin, chapped lips.

I slowly turned my whole body around in my chair to see over my shoulder. Erik was sitting in the very back pew all by himself.

He didn't come to church all that often, none of us did, but Pete’s funeral was of course the exception. We were all a bunch of punks with no money and most of us a felt uncomfortable around church folks. We lived in a small very strict and ol' fashioned very religious town.

We didn't have nothin' a'gainst God or anything. I didn't even mind the whole Jesus story for that matter. Mostly we disliked wealthy religious people, who couldn’t give rats ass about those of us who struggled every month to make ends meet, especially folks like Erik and his parent’s who were always working multiple jobs and still could’nt stay on top.

Erik, who had moved to the neighborhood a few years ago was my best friend. His house was a few houses down from the abandoned lot where we all hung out and was just up the street from Jason and I’s apartment building. Erik’s house was always a dump, but they were the poorest people I knew.

Before Erik, no one had actually lived in that house. Usually, whoever owned it tried to fix it up and flip it, but the next owner would always trash the place again. It was an ongoing cycle. Erik was a year younger than me. He was quiet and shy, like a wide eyed innocent puppy. However, once you got to know him he was a pretty chill dude.

He was a tall, skinny looking fella, with a wide set jaw, and bright, but timid eyes. He had short dark hair that he spiked straight up using an ungodly toxic amount of gell.

He actually didn’t hangout with any of us much at first, but he had taken the fall for me once when I tried pulling a prank on the teacher. I had put a thumb tack in the teacher's pair of slippers who is a real prick sometimes. I don't usually hate teachers, in fact I get along with most grown ups, just not that one.

I don't know why Erik took the fall for me that day. I hadn't even said two words to him yet. Then again, no one ever knows why Erik does the things he does. He's a good kid, but he is crazy. Not wild and charismatic like you might think, rather, more of a secret genius kind of crazy. He was always taking things apart and learning how they work. He over thought everything and would plot schemes on how to get around obstacles in pretty much every facet of life. He always knew from the beginning what his end goal was, and nothing would ever get in his way to stop him. He was a little bit of a know-it-all, and the worst part was he knew it. He did things just to get on peoples nerves and prove that he was smarter than them.

I figured that he probably wanted to make an impression on the teacher as being a bad boy type.

Erick was always working on building things too. He had a very mechanically inclined mind. You know those people who can just look at an object and know off the top of their head how the thing works, how to take it apart, and how to fix it.

He was obsessed with his truck, well his dad's old truck. An old, rusty Ford Bronco. Honestly, it was a piece of crap, didn't even run, and belonged in a junkyard. None of us dared tell him that though; he was convinced that he could fix it. Nobody ever questioned anything that Erik did. Everyone just assumed that he knew what he was doing, and the thing was, he usually did. Even the teachers avoided calling on him in class, because they were afraid of being outsmarted by a thirteen year old.

Most days after school, before hanging out with the gang doing whatever we were doing, which was usually smoking a pack of cancer sticks and listening to music, Erik went straight home to work on his truck. He would spend all afternoon fixing whatever piece of junk he was currently obsessed with. Currently he was obsessed with that old truck, he absolutely loved that thing to death. Oh, and did I mention he loved his truck. He had made a deal with his father that if he took the whole entire engine apart, put it back together, and got the thing running again it would be his own. He was the most determined one of us.

We were teenagers now, but he would’ve enjoyed being a kid with us back in the day when we used to play there at the vaccant lot. We would use the lot to play football well after dark, but we're too old for that stuff now. As far as any of us were concerned, we all were ready to be adults and be done with all the stupid kid stuff. We couldn't wait 'till we were old enough to drink, well legally anyway, get in bar fights, and go to parties. The truth is we were all pretty decent kids. The worst thing that any of us had really done was sneaking candy in our pockets from the drug store just down the street before going to the movies. Sometimes, I guess we'd also make fake copies of the movie tickets, but honestly that's about it mostly.

I stood up and walked out to the aisle. I felt awkward leaving so abruptly, but I really needed to take a piss. Hell, Pete would understand. In fact, he would think it was kinda funny.

I walked up the aisle with my head down, trying to keep my eyes looking directly at the grayish, multicolored carpet lining the floor. I looked up once to turn the corner towards the little white side door instead of making a scene opening the main oversized ornate wooden double doors. This one old grumpy looking man stared intently at me in a judging manner, so I quickly glanced down at my feet which were somehow frozen in place. In that split second someone just in that very long and drawn out moment sneezed real loud. He had let out a roar as loud as a typical dad sneeze. A few people turned their heads only to see me standing there awkwardly slouched and hunched forward with my fists jammed in my pockets trying to look as innocent as possible.

I felt like the whole congregation was waiting for me to apologize or something. It was extremely awkward so I high tailed it outta there. While I was walking to the back everyone all at once stood straight up while an image with words appeared on the projector screen above the stage. An organ began to play while the church started to sing in a monotone unison. As the distraction allowed for the feeling of sluggish slow motion to be lifted like a curse on my body, I took the opportunity to slip out the side door.

I stood there in the bathroom letting out a sigh of relief.

I heard the door open and an older gentleman walked up to the urinal right next to mine without any regard for the spacing rule. I tried to ignore him when he spoke, “How’s it going.”

“Fine,” I replied. After finishing I washed my hands while the old man left.

“God damn it!” I muttered under my breath. I always thought that public restrooms are awkward, especially for someone like me who is pee shy. By the third or fourth person walking up to the urinal next to yours you feel like everyone is judging you for not going yet and probably thinking you're some sort of pervert for just standing there stairing at the wall.

Before going back inside I stood out in the foyer for a minute staring at the memorial of Pete which was displayed very nicely on the table next to the large wooden double doors.

I stepped towards the doorway and put my hand against the decorative handle grasping it firmly. I didn't want to go back inside. Just before I pushed it open, I stopped and shook my head. Trying desperately not to let out sorrowful tears I spun around and walked towards the exit door.

"I need a cigarette," I said to myself as I walked briskly outside into the cool fresh air.

Standing outside with a lit cigarette between my index and middle finger I stared meaninglessly at the parked cars in the parking lot. I couldn't stop thinking about the other day when Pete had gone off to fight his rival Jackson Pierce. What if I would've tried to stop him? "Nah," I thought. Pete was two years older and a whole lot bigger than I was. He lived for fighting and stirring up trouble. There was nothing I could've done.

I blinked several times, then took another puff of my cigarette as I remembered that day like one of those weird childhood memories that you can't shake because for some stupid reason it's burned into your brain. I remembered clear as day the last time I saw Pete alive, right before he went off to the fight.

I stared blankly up at the cloudy grey sky while taking another puff from my cigarette and remembering the day Erik and I found Pete's backpack and decided to show Sally what was inside.

"What is it?" Sally asked as I set the bag down in front of her. We found this backpack in the vacant lot the other night. We’re certain that the backpack belongs to Pete’s because it had the science book from school with his weed stash in it.

“Well of course that’s his bag,“ Sally replied.

She knew most things about Pete. The two of them were pretty tight and even though she would deny it, Sally always kind of had thing for Pete.

He was the wild and crazy bad boy of the gang. Not to bright academically though, but that didn’t stop him from being a smooth talking badass, especially around girls and cops. I didn't know anyone else who could talk his way in and out of any situation. That dude had a different chick on his arms practically every other week. Most of the girls in our school eventually started to hate him for it, but as usual they fell right back into his arms when he opened his mouth to speak. Pete could hold a conversation with anyone. I don't mean that he was annoying like the kind of people who drone on and on so much that you could put the phone down, go make a sandwich and come right back answering with a simple, "ah huh." He could talk to people with a sort of charisma that always held their attention with his dark brown eyes and his thick, curly, jet black hair. It didn't even really matter that he wore glasses either. He wore them with style and they were a part of his look. Pete lived three doors down the street from me in a horribly trashy house. His parents worked all the time, and when they didn't they were at the bar. After his older half brother moved out, Pete basically raised himself, and boy did he teach himself to be a slob, but it was part of his charm. He didn't give two cents about nothin'. He was always looking for a good time and would constantly leave a mess of trouble wherever he went.

Pete was a tough badass sixteen year old punk which is probably why Sally was so enthralled with him. Hell we all admired Pete. The three of us weren’t at all surprised when I pulled out the pistol that supposedly belonged to Pete out of the backpack.

Sally’s face froze for a second, but then no one would be too surprised that Pete would have a gun.

It was loaded with three extra magazines in the bottom of the bag. None of us knew much about guns and we had no idea why in the world Pete would have one. He was more of a punk than any of us and had even been arrested for misdemeeners a couple of times, but he’d never kill anyone,...we thought.

"Jonah, don't let anyone see you with that," Sally said to me with a slight panic in her voice.

I quickly put the gun back into the bag.

"Listen up, we can't tell nobody 'bout this, got it," I said sternly while looking around to make sure no one was watching us.

At that I slung the backpack over my shoulder and stood up.

I'm gonna head home, and remember, not a word of this to anyone.

As I walked home it began to get dark very quickly. I flipped up my hood, slouched my shoulders forward, and pulled out a cigarette from my jacket pocket. A moment after lighting it up, I heard a voice call out from behind me.

"Hey Kid!" I whipped my head around over my slouched shoulders to see a tall and bulky, dark skinned teenage boy with neatly styled, slicked back hair shouting at me. "Tell your buddy that I'm going to kill him for slashing my tires!" He shouted.

I nodded and turned back around to continue walking home. I wasn't all that afraid of him. He was a senior in high school, but the dude was all talk. Pete told me once that Jackson Pierce only pretended to be tough, but he didn’t have the balls to actually fight anyone.

Anyway, his beef was with Pete, not me, so I had nothing to worry about, I thought. Those two always hated each other for one reason or the other and to be honest no one ever really knew why they were such rivals.

"You listenin' to me kid!" I turned around again only to find a blur of a person shouting while hurling towards me at full speed. Knowing I couldn't outrun him, I bent my knees, leaned forward, prepared to take the hit.

Bam! He knocked me flat on my ass and pinned me to the ground as he pressed his knee against my chest. "Where is your friend Pete?" He yelled at me. "How the hell should I know?"

I said trying to catch my breath with Jackson's knee still pressed against my chest ever so slowly squeezing the air out of my lungs.

He finally stood up allowing me to breath. I lied there for a second unable to move. Jackson bent over to pick up my still lit cigarette which was lying on the ground. As far as I knew the kid didn't smoke or drink, like at all. He was an athlete, best in the school. He didn't need the buzz being the cocky son of a bitch that he acted like. Not to mention he didn't want to lose his precious wrestling scholarship. After taking one puff, he flicked the cigarette off into the street and kicked me real hard in the side.

"Get your fat ass up off the ground and go tell your buddy I'll be waitin' for him behind the old Seven Eleven. Tell him toe be there within the hour! Ya hear me ya lil' punk?"

I nodded.

"Now scram!"

I stood up and grabbed the backpack which was lying next to me.

"Leave the bag here kid!"

"Why do you want it?" I asked.

"None of your business," he scolded. "What's in this thing anyways?" He asked as he snatched the backpack from my hands.

I held my breath as he unzipped the bag, but then quickly zipped it back up and slung it over his shoulder.

I was relieved.

"Get goin, I don't got all night," he scolded.

I got up quickly and ran as fast my legs could carry me while looking back over my shoulder every few minutes to make sure Jackson Pierce wasn't following me. He was still just standing there in the middle of the street with his arms crossed while staring directly at me with an angry look on his face. I didn’t know what to think about him having Pete’s gun. Was he gonna shoot him? I honestly wouldn't be surprised. Jackson Pierce was known for being kind of irrational and impulsive. Him with a gun was a scary thought. "Maybe, I'll stay home from school for a few days," I muttered quietly under my breath as I turned my head back around and continued running.

I got the end of the block and turned running towards Pete's house.

A million things were racing through my mind as I kept running. "Why did Pete slash Jasckson’s tires. They’ve always hated each other, but it was always more of a harmless rivalry, never actual fighting. "Are they really gonna kill each other this time." My mind was full of questions and knowing Pete he would keep everything to himself as usual.

By the time I arrived at Pete’s house I wanted to die and was ready to about puke my guts out from running. "Damn!" I thought, "I am really outta shape."

I opened up the gate and walked up to the porch. I held up my hand to ring the doorbell when the door suddenly opened. I jumped back as I saw Pete was standing there. I didn't expect him to answer. Quiet frankly, I figured by this time of night he'd be out drinking, as he usually does. He takes after his folks that way. "Wat up kid?" He asked. Bent over trying to still catch my breath I stammered out a bunch of words. My lips were moving so fast that I didn't even understand what I was saying, "Jackson...Pierce just...attacked…me stole your back… that I found…in the vaccant lot.” I took a deep breath. “He said he wants you meet him behind Seven Eleven within the hour.

I stopped and took another deep breath.

"Damn that's a mouth full." Pete said with a laugh as he grabbed his jacket from behind the door and stepped outside.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Can’t keep him waiting, that dude’s crazy." Pete replied.

"But, wait hold on a minute. In the backpack. The gun.

"Yeah, I know." Pete grinned and cocked his head back. "Don't worry kid, he just owes me some money so I slashed the tires on his precious Camero. I’ll handle it.

Go on home and I'll call you in the morning."

“Why did you have a gun though,” I asked.

“Stole it from my old man for protection,” Pete casually replied like it was nothing.

“Now scram bud, I’ll hit ya up tomorrow for an early morning smoke.”

That was the last time I ever saw Pete alive.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes after apparently drifting off to sleep and felt Jason grabbing my arm saying in a harsh tone, "Get your ass back in your seat kid. You’ve been out here for ten minutes already. Not even I take smoke breaks that long," Jason said with a laugh.

Jason dragged me up the steps and back inside the church to my seat. I thought it was embarrassing to leave, but having my big brother haul my ass across the church floor in front of the entire congregation was a nightmare. I sat down and looked up towards the stage at Pete's mother who had just began speaking.

"Ugh," I sighed aloud. "This isn't how we should be honoring Pete." I muttered under my breath.

Pete was wild and reckless. He was most definitely not the goody two shoes church boy type.

I looked around the room and saw Sally still nose deep in her album booklet. Erik was alseep in the back row and the clock hanging above his head read half past noon. My stomach growled. “We’ve been here almost an hour,” I whispered to myself again under my breath. Damn funerals, why do they gotta be so long?

I could eat an entire pizza and slam a six pack of beer right now. That’s how we should be honoring Pete. Beer and pizza, that was his communion. I leaned my head back against the pew and remembered the time that Erik and I turned in a trash bag full of soda pop cans and used the change to buy a couple slices of pizza. That was the night we found the backpack late at night in the vacant lot.

"Ya got anything to eat 'round here?" Sally asked Erik as she rummaged through his fridge.

"Nah, not really," Erik responded. " The fridge is empty and mom can't buy more groceries until dad gets paid next Friday."

"That sucks," she replied.

"If y'all want though we can take the bin of soda cans I collected down to the drug store and use the money to buy a pizza at the gas station or something?" Erik suggested.

It was then that it hit me just how poor Erik's family actually was. My brother and I were poor too, but Jason always managed to at least have extra food around when we were hungry. I never imagined needing to collect soda cans and bottles to take in for spare change just to buy dinner. I felt kind of bad for him, even though I knew he didn't care what anybody thought. It still bothered me a little.

"Sure," Sally said as she jumped up. "Sounds like a good idea. I'm starving."

"Yo Erik, how'd it'd go with your old lady when you broke that window the other day?" I asked.

"It's all good," Erik replied. I got grounded for the week though so y'all will have to get outta here before my parents get home later tonight."

We followed Erik out to the garage where he kept a plastic bag on a red, Radioflyer wagon, filled up with pop cans. As He was fastening it to his bike, Sally and I were looking around the garage, mostly at his truck. "So how far are you until you get this thing runnin," I asked, pointing at the old truck.

"My old man and I are gonna work on it next week." Erik said, "We gotta get a few parts though as soon as he gets paid. I’m hoping we should have it running in a couple weeks or so, but it all depends on whether or not my dad will loan me the cash for the parts.

"I still think it's a piece of crap," Sally said as she rolled her eyes. "Ah shit!" She exclaimed.

"What is it?" Erik and I both asked simultaneously.

"I left my headphones and CD player on the ground at the lot."

"No worries," Erik said calmly. "We'll swing by and grab ‘em."

We opened the garage to go outside and started walking our bikes towards main street. We stopped by my house first to get my bike, then ran over to the lot. Sally looked around frantically not seeing her headphones anywhere, until all of a sudden with a tear in her eye she shrieked as she pointed to the ground. Erik stayed by the sidewalk with our bikes as I ran over to her.

Sally picked up the busted and smashed CD player with her headphoness smashed up too.

"Who would do such a thing?” I asked trying to stay calm for Sally’s sake.

“It was probably those kids from the other day. The one’s from that fancy prep school who Pete had been harassing,” Sally answered me trying not to cry.

Damn it!” She yelled

"Sally, it'll be fine. We'll all chip in and get you a new one."

"They're going to pay!" She screamed as she whipped her head around at me. "Tomorrow afternoon we’ll get Pete to join us and then were gonna beat the shit out of them!"

After Sally started to calm down we walked back over to Erik who was still waiting with the bikes. In this neighborhood you don't dare leave your bike unattended, not even for a second.

"What's wro--ng, oh shit, I'm sorry Sally. That sucks."

"Y'all go on without me," she said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yea, just go. I need some time alone, besides I’m serious about calling Pete tomorrow were gonna make those prep school brats pay. "

Erik and I hopped on our bikes and rode off.

Sally really was heart broken. The CD player was a gift from her brother before he left for the military about a year and a half ago. After he went MIA, it as all she had left of him.

Sally and I were close. She once told me that the CD player was the same one her brother stole from a record shop in town for her because their family couldn’t afford it. I knew just how much it meant to her. Sally and I often would play video games for hours and listen to music on that old walkman. She was easily the toughest girl I knew. She was tall, and had dark, coarse red hair that was always in a ponytail. She had a small round nose and a face full of freckles. Sally was definitely a tomboy if there ever was one, and she was one hell of a punk, more than any of us. I could tell we needed to give her some space. Her huge clunky headphones she wore around her neck blasting music from that CD player was who she was’ it was her identity and I knew she was really upset.

I turned my head around to see Sally kneeling on the ground with her red high top sneakers behind her and her ripped camouflage jacket pulled over her head, holding her CD player and sobbing uncontrollably. She briefly looked up to see me staring. We made eye contact and then she quickly turned herself around so as to not be seen. I knew that she wanted us to leave so we wouldn't see her cry like that. It was an unspoken rule in the group that if you needed to cry over something, you kept to yourself and no one else in the group would judge you for any reason. Sally especially didn't want to be seen crying. She was rough and tough. She never wanted anyone to see her fragile side, which we all knew was there, but didn't even dream of speaking about.

Erik and I made our way to the drug store a few blocks away. We parked our bikes and the wagon outside where I waited as Erik carried in the bag of cans.

“Six dollars and fifty-two cents,” Erik said as he walked back.

“That should be enough for us each to get a slice of pizza and maybe a tall boy that we can split” I said.

We hopped on our bikes and rode across the street to the gas station where we bought two slices of peperoni and pizza and a tall boy of busch light. They never check ID’s there so we could always buy alcohol and cigerettes whenever we wanted.

We walked our bikes so that we could eat our pizza but when we got back to Erik's place, his mom was already home so we decided to head to the vacant lot to drink the beer. Sally had left already. We dropped both of our bikes by the edge of the street where we could clearly see them and then walked over to the big tree.

“What’s that?” Erik pointed to a dark gray backpack sitting next to the large sycamore tree.

Erik unzipped the backpack and a handgun tumbled out onto the ground.

“What the hell!” I exclaimed. “Whose is that?”

“I think it belongs to Pete, look at this.” Erik said as he pulled out a third edition science textbook. We both knew that it was the book Pete kept of course not for reading, but solely to stash a small bag of dope. Erik opened the book and there it was a small ziplock bag with a hand full of marijuana in it. The backpack belonged to Pete and so most likely did the gun.

“We need to get this out of here.” Erik said.

“I can’t take it. If Jason finds this on me he’d skin me alive.” I explained.

“No worries,” Erik assured me. “I’ll hang on to it, ya know my folks won’t give a rats ass."

Erik quickly put the gun back into the bag and zipped it up. "I'll get this home before anyone sees."

"Sounds good," I replied. "My brother has a date tonight so I'm gonna stay out here a little longer."

I waved goodbye as Erik got on his bike to ride home.

Taking the last swig of beer, I crunched the can in my hand and tossed it behind me. I lied down on my back to look at the stars as I fell asleep.

Pete's mother finished speaking and got down from the podium starting to cry. She's such a bee with an itch. Honestly, she didn't give two shits about her children. Pete was her youngest and all she would tell him was that he was a god damn good for nothing except to sign the rent check when she wasn't sober enough to sign her own name, which was all the time. Pete's father weren't no better either. That man was a lazy ass drunk who didn't do shit with his life. Despite having such shitty parents both Pete and his older brother Jeff were actually really solid dudes. Jeff was the last person to get up and speak. Unlike his parents who were dressed as poorly as Erik's house usually looked, Jeff wore a nice suit and tie with what remained of his hair neatly combed back. He owned a bar in town and of course took to the family legacy of being an alcoholic, but usually had enough sense to be sober enough to function in life. He didn't have much given to him, if anything at all, but he always made the best out of every situation that he found himself in. That was something I really admired about him. Despite not always showing it, that’s what Pete had admired about his brother too. Jeff had gone to school with Jason before they both dropped out to buy the bar that Jeff now owns. Jason was gonna co-own the business, but at the last minute decided to take a construction job in order to take care of me and pay the bills after our mom passed away. Honestly, it’s something I still blame myself for, but Jason always reassures me that it was for the best.

We were poor, but we did alright for ourselves. Last summer I even worked on my brother’s construction crew and saved up enough to buy myself an xbox. We didn't have a lot growing up, but that didn't matter to us. We had each other.

Jason, used to tell me stories about all the crazy parties that he attended while in highschool back before mom died and dad left.

I really didn’t mind living with my brother in his tiny apartment on the edge of the neighborhood, although sometimes it was annoying having to share a bedroom and all. He often acted like he was a parent and not a brother. I guess he was really the only thing I had to a parent though and his place was the only option I had for a living arrangement. Every now and then I stayed over at Pete’s house, but last time I almost got punched in the face by his drunk father so I usually avoided staying there unless I had too. Jason’s apartment was old, outdated, and dingy, but it is what I called home.

My big brother had always been there for me growing up, even right after mom had died and he was working two full-time jobs. Living with him was better than going to stay with my father as he left the family when I was four years old. According to Jason, who was ten years old at the time, my old man was a real butthead and drug addict. He didn't even technically leave, our mom kicked him out of the house after he had blown his entire paycheck on drugs and gambling. He never has returned since.

Working at a decent size convenient store in the next town over, our mother made just enough to barely make ends meet the best that she could and raised us actually pretty damn well under the circumstances, that is until she got diagnosed with breast cancer and passed away. At her funeral was the first and only time that I have ever seen Jason cry. He always told me that a real man don't cry, but once in a lifetime everyone deserves to be upset about something. Our father made a surprised and uninvited appearance completely wasted. My poor brother had to escort him outside of the building. He got up and tackled the man to the ground. I had never seen someone move so dang fast. After he landed him on the ground, he punched him once in the gut and one time in the face. I think he broke dad's nose, at least I hope that he did. Jason was pissed that dad had showed up at all let alone being drunk. My brother stepped up though and made sure he left us alone. He always looked out for everyone no matter what it cost him.

I’ll never forget the time a few years back when he took Pete and I out fishing for the day. He stole and hot wired Billy Nickel’s blue 1969 Mustang. Billy was his rival in high school who stole his spot as quarterback for the football team. We drove that car a couple hours outside of town to the old lake that mom and dad would take us too back when, well, back when things were alright. The only thing I really remember about going to the lake with our parents was the tire swing that Jason helped me build, it was still there when he took Pete and I back.

I also remember that the entire day of fishing I didn’t catch a damn thing, which would’ve been fine except Pete and Jason were catching blue gill left and right.

They would cast then real in roughly two minutes later than repeat. It was so funny when Pete finally caught the biggest fish of the day, a big ol’ bass and freaking Pete as tough as he was he was afraid to pull the hook out. Said a fish that big might bite his whole finger off.

Jason pulled the hook out for him and then gave him a pair of leather gloves to wear so Pete could hold the fish for a picture. He convinced him that fish were allergic to leather and it would make it go limp.

Jason was taking the picture and right as the flash went off, to Pete’s surprise the otherwise limp fish flopped back and forth scaring the piss out of him. He chucked the damn thing towards Jason who vollied it out towards the water and somehow managed to lose the camera in the process. We all ran over to the edge of the dock to watch the camera slowly sink into the water lower and lower until we could no longer see the bright Kodak orange wrapping. Before we could say anything Pete was stripped down to his underwear and dove head first into the water. Jason and I just started laughing until after about a minute or two Pete emerges with the that bright orange disposable camera. To this day I don’t even know if it can be developed, it’s probably buried in Jason’s closet somewhere.

He said he would take it to the next town over to the CVS where they had a room to develop the film, but he never did. I think the day he was going to, he went to a party with his girlfriend and never thought about that stupid camera again.

After Pete had retrieved the camera he insisted that we pack up and go home because he was freezing and had no towel to dry off. It was also early October in the Midwest so Jason agreed that it’d be good idea to go home. The last thing he wanted was to explain to Pete’s dunken father why he caught a cold and couldn’t leave the house. Whereas most parents wouldn’t think twice about tending to their ill child, Pete’s folks would’ve actually been pissed if they’re kid was stuck inside and needed caring for.

We drove the car to the town closest to ours and dropped it near a park. From there we walked to the bus stop carrying our tackle gear and fishing rods where we rode the bus home. I always liked bus rides, you always meet interesting people. The sort of people you see in Walmart, if we had a Walmart in town. The closest one was a couple hours away and I had only been once. Bus rides though had every kind of unimaginable people you could imagine.

Jason sat in the seat up front and started flirting with the single mom in the seat beside him. Believe it or not she seemed sort of interested. Girls love Jason though, he was a jock and had cool hair.

Pete and I sat towards the back and there was a some old guy with a beard in front of us who was passed out. He was wearing suspenders and sweats while also rocking a sport coat.

The seat next to us was some chick with her hoodie over her head and she was smoking a ciggerete.

I distinctly remember Pete trying to bumb a smoke off of her and she just flipped him the bird. Little did she know, that that made Pete try even harder. Before I knew it he was chatting it up and they may have even exchanged phone numbers, but to be honest I don’t recall.

The bus ride took about an hour or so, I slept most of the way. Jason took us afterwards to the drug store where he bought a six pack of beer. We walked back to the vacant lot. Drinking wasn’t anything new to Pete so he cracked one open and drank it like it was water. I on the other hand hesitated because I had actually naver drank up until this point. Jason lit up a smoke and handed it to me.

“Here this’ll make the beer go down smoother.”

It didn’t, but it was familiar and comforting as smoking was not new to any of us. Before I knew it I was drinking my first beer, actually I had like two or three and since I was only twelve Jason had to carry me home.

“Well I’d better get home I’m beat.” Pete said as he stood up shaking a little. He knew how to drink but two beers deep and only fourteen years old he stumbled a little while he walked home. I was already starting to knod off.

“Jesus kid,” Jason exclaimed. “I should’ve cut ya off at one you’re fallen asleep on me.”

At that my big bro heaved me up over his shoulder and carried me home to our apartment. Those days before Jason had his construction job we were living in a tiny studio that was so small and run down it made our current place feel like a god damn palace.

Here I was again at fourteen years old waking up to Jason carrying me over his shoulder out to the truck. The funeral was over and it was time to go to the cemetery for the burial.

“God, sorry I fell asleep, but shit was that service boring.”

“Don’t worry about it kid, ya’ll been through a lot the last couple of days,” Jason replied in his soft spoken comforting voice.

The procession felt like hours as I sat in the passenger seat trying my hardest not to fall asleep again. We had just turned on to Main street and were stuck between a red Dodge minivan and an old gray Buick. The truck was completely stopped or at least it felt that way as we crept along at under 5 miles an hour. The minivan behind us belonged to Sally’s family. I could see her through the mirror with her brand new SkullCandy headphones that Erik swiped for her from someone at school.

Damn school, I thought. We usually skipped, in fact just the other day Erik and I were walking home after first period when we ran into Pete who was only half sober at the time as usual.

"Whatcha' kids up to?" Pete said in a half drunken slur while catching up to Erik and I who were shuffling our white sneakers through the street with our hands shoved in our jacket pockets. "Nothin legal," I replied with a grin and my head half cocked tryin' to look tough.

"That's what I like to hear," Pete said with a wink while also grabbing my head to give me a noogie.

Everyone did this to me all the time. I would always just put up with it, but to be honest, it irritated the hell out of me. I knew everyone meant well and being only fourteen I was the kid brother of the group even though Erik was actually a year younger than me. I went along with it because none of us ever beat up on Erik the way did each other. The rest of us would tease back and forth but we were all protective of Erik. He had it rough and we all knew it so we didn't mess with him. He had enough shit to deal with at home. Pete ain't much older than me though and I couldn't understand why he's gotta treat me like I'm five? I laughed a little and shrugged it off. We continued to stroll down the street, each with our hands shoved deep into our pockets, shuffling our feet against the pavement, and our shoulders slouched over like a bunch of dirty rough, tough lookin' thugs.

The fresh air felt nice, compared to the stuffy classrooms at school. There was a slight breeze and the sun was shining. Hangin' with your best buds and chillin' was a beautiful way to spend an afternoon rather than a long boring ass day of school.

"Erik? Pete asked, "When your gonna clean up that old house y'all are livin' in?"

"Oh ya know, Erick replied with half of a laugh, "When my old man gets his lazy self around to it."

“That’s gotta be rough man,” Pete put his hand on Erik’s shoulder and almost had a kind face until that four eyed punk smirked his usual charming grin. “Ha, well ya know you can always stay with me,...not that my shithole is much better than yours.” We all had a good laugh as we neared the intersection of the street where the vacant lot was.

Erik's house was quite literally just a stone's throw away. I know this because Erik picked up a smooth sided rock, and said, "Y'all think I can make this over the roof of my house?"

"Probably," I answered, not wanting to bet against Erik.

"Y'all couldn't even hit the broadside of a barn if it came up behind ya and smacked ya in the rear," Pete said while gripping his stomach and throwing his head back with a chuckle.

"Ya know what, Pete continued, "I'll buy ya half of a pack of smokes and a beer if you make that throw."

"Bet," Erik replied with a smirk of confidence..

He stepped backwards, whipped his arm back into a throwing position, and gripped the smooth faced stone so tightly you could see the sweat on his hand. He then lurched forward, launching his arm past his head, chucking the rock towards his house.

Instead of the rock flying up and over and right past the house as planned, it went straight through the open window of the kitchen. We could hear his mom shriek as something made of glass had been shattered. He nearly scared the piss out of her.

She ran outside only to see us already turned around and running through the lot and into the next yard.

Erik made the mistake of looking over his shoulder while he was running and made eye contact with her. Instantly she knew, and you could see the anger in her face begin to swell like a bloated bird.

"Erik! She screamed. "You're grounded for a month young man!"

She stood outside on the porch screaming more and more punishments every second. The impressive thing was that she never seemed to stop and take a breath. It's as if the anger and raged just kept pouring out non stop.

The punishments kept getting more and more creative and severe as she went on.

After a few blocks of running we stopped to catch our breath. We could no longer hear Erik's mom screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Well," Erick started to speak. "Maybe she’s calmed down. I guess I should head home and apologize for whatever I broke." He laughed a little. "Honestly, she don't really care. She just likes to scream at things. She screams at the mailman for putting the mail in the mailbox "upside down." Don't worry, I ain't got nothin' to worry about."

"Well listen Erik," I said, "If you need a place to stay for a while ya know my couch is always open."

"Thanks man, but really, I'll be fine. I just may not see y'all for a few days."

"Let us know as soon as you get out of prison," Pete said as he winked at him.

Pete and I waited walked around for about ten minutes or so before finally heading back over to the vacant lot. Sally was laying on the grass listening to music, and probably sleeping. Pete quietly snuck up behind her and snapped the headphones against her head.

I had just lit up a blunt and Pete was being his usual hilarious self. He really didn’t mean any of it, he was just a butt and liked to joke around.

"What the hell!" She yelled as she jumped up.

Pete snickered, "Sorry, Sal. Ya know me, I couldn't help myself little sis."

She wasn't actually his sister, but Pete being the youngest of one and basically having no parents, treated us all like family.

"It's fine," Sally replied. "I'm just tense, anyone got a cigarette." She looked around on the ground in hopes to find the butt of one at the very least.

"I don't have any Sally." I replied

"Here ya go," Pete handed her one after taking the pack out of his shirt sleeve.

"Thanks, I guess that sorta makes up for you being a jerk," She said with a laugh.

I sat down on the grass leaning against the tree while Pete was casually pacing back and forth.

"Man is there anything fun to do in this stupid town," Pete groaned.

"I just got my allowance. Y'all wanna head to the record store with me? Sally asked.

"Sure I ain't got nowhere to be," I replied.

"What the hell, better than screwing off 'round here," Pete said.

We got up and headed down to the record store in the main part of town. It was about a ten-minute walk or so from the lot which was on the entire other side town if that gives you an idea of just how small this town actually was. On our way there, Pete started harassing some kids from the next town over who went to this fancy ass prep school. I don't know what they were doing around here. Probably bored the same as us only they must’ve had a car. We were always fightin’ with kids from neighboring towns. One of them had on a letterman’s jacket, cuffed jeans, and a shaved head. The other two were both wearing white button down shirts, one had on a brown pair of khakis and the other had on a pair of black dress pants. Their town was a quite a bit bigger than ours and full of mostly pompous ass rich folks.

They started cussing us out so Pete pushed up his sleeves and yelled, "Ya chumps wanna fight or something, cause we'd kick your ass!"

"We ain't afraid of a bunch poor thugs like you!" They yelled back.

"Fine then, Pete yelled as we crossed the street to the record store. "Meet us at the vacant lot on the other side of town at three this afternoon, and don't ya’ll be late!"

They knew exactly where the vacant lot was in our town. The stupid ghost legend made our lot pretty well known around here and by other surrounding towns. We often would get neighboring gangs running through our territory because of that stupid ass legend.

"What are you doing?" I spoke up aggressively, after having been mostly quiet almost the whole walk down.

"Relax kid, they aint gonna show, and if they do, we'll beat the hell out of 'em.

"Whatever," I said as we walked through the door of the record shop.

"Hey boys, the store clerk said as we entered the building. "Oh, sorry Sally," the Clerk apologized. "I didn't see who you were under the ball cap."

"It's fine, she said with a sigh. "I get it all the time."

"Maybe if you didn't dress like such a tomboy and actually tried to show off some of your feminine charm people wouldn't mistake you for one of the guys," Pete teased her.

"Maybe if you didn't act like such an ass all the time I wouldn't do this," Sally punched him real hard in the gut, almost knocking him backwards off of his feet. He clenched his gut, with his shoulders hunched, caught his balance and laughed. "You hit like a guuurl." He teased again. She promptly ignored him as she usually does and then started browsing through the CDs in the record store. Their bantering was always in good fun.

"Y'all ready to go?" She said, holding up the Blink-182 Enema of the State album. The record had been out of Blink records for a hot minute, but Sally was in love with them. She was really into oldie type music from the 90s mostly because of her big brother.

"I can't believe that they had it," she said.

"I still don't understand what you see in them Sallyl," I said with a slight laugh.

"Don't hate, she said. "They're one of my favs and Tom DeLonge is so friggin cool."

"No he's not, I replied. "He's super crazy, but whateves."

We always gave Sally a hard time cause she listened to weird alternative music that was a few years old.

"You should try and listen to some music from this decade lil' sis."

Sally ignored the both of us as she proceeded to pay for the CD.

"Aight, let's get outta this place," Pete whispered after Sally handed the cash to the store clerk.

"What'd you do?" Sally glared at him.

"Let's just get out of here, quickly please," he said again. "Now...ish," as Pete shoved us out the door with one hand while holding his jacket closed with the other.

“Wait, my change,” Sally fought against him.

"Let's run," Pete said as he took off down the sidewalk. We quickly followed him as we heard someone from the back of the store yell, "Hey stop!"

I whipped my head around and saw one of the store clerks shouting at us from the doorway.

While still looking behind me and running I shouted ahead at Pete, "What the hell did you do man?"

"Watch where you're going!" Sally yelled at me as she grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the way of wiping out and planting my face straight into a telephone pole.

"Thanks," I said while still sprinting to catch up with Pete.

"Dumbass," Sally answered, shaking her head and laughing.

We finally caught up with Pete who after turning the corner was now just casually strolling down the sidewalk whistling a toon. I was hunched over with my hands on my knees and my tongue hanging out of my mouth panting like a dog. I was about ready to puke.

"Oh come on Jonah, you're not that outta shape," Sally said sarcastically. The truth is, I was out of shape and starting to get a little chubby too.

"What'd you steal this time Pete?" I asked.

"Just wait 'til we get back to the lot and I'll show ya.

"Give it here!" Sally demanded, as she snatched it out from under his jacket.

She stared at it for a hot minute and then glared at Pete and as she tossed it over her head to the ground behind her.

"Don't do that! Give it back!" Pete exclaimed as he ran over and picked it up off the ground. Then stuffed it back into his jacket.

"What was it?" I asked.

"Nothin' of your concern kid, I'll tell you when...," Pete was answering quickly as Sally interrupted, "It's a playboy magazine."

"Well give it here!" I said quickly.

Sally shook her head and just put on her headphones as she walked briskly ahead of us. She often tried to ignore our childishness. Even though she was only a year older than me, she likes to act like she was all grown up a lot of the time. We teased her more because of it, but honestly she kept our group from getting into too much trouble. We started to head back to the vacant lot where we figured we would just chill for a bit, until those prep school kids showed up to fight if they did at all.

"Yo Pete can I bum a smoke off ya?"

"Sure kid, but ya owe me, cause that's like your fourth or fifth one in the last hour. I'm all for smokin' cancer into your lungs, but geez kid, you gotta lay off a bit." He laughed as he said it, half joking.

"Yea whatever!" I replied. You smoke almost two packs a day."

"Yes, but I'm older than you." Pete said in his usual persuasive and charming tone. I knew better than to argue with him.

As we approached the vacant lot Pete and I ran ahead racing each other to the big tree in the corner. Sally was still off in her own little music world with her headphones on blaring loudly. Sally wasn't paying any attention except to cover her face to keep from blushing when Pete tried showing off. As he was running he tried jumping vertically onto the old picnic table near the tree. He landed successfully on top of the table skinning his knee a little, turned around and winked at both Sally and I, but immediately lost his balance and fell backwards onto the ground.

"Need a hand" I ran over to him, stretching out my hand to help him up.

"Thanks kid."

"You alright."

"Yea I'm all good." He laughed.

Sally was tried not to laugh while sitting underneath the tree with her headphones around now her neck blaring her new CD.

"Pete what are we gonna do if those kids show up?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," Pete replied. "I'm gonna kick their butts."

"They didn't even really do anything, except cuss you out a little," I responded. Besides you started it.”

"Eh, you know me, I like pickin' fights for no reason; otherwise, this town gets boring." Pete said.

To be honest, Pete was actually right about that. This town is really boring if you don't make your own fun somehow.

I wouldn't personally choose to start fights all the time with strangers, but we weren't about to judge Pete. It's just who he was.

He always fought fair, and never used weapons. Pete just honestly loved to pick fights and prove how tough he was.

Last summer he had picked a fight with a Senior, Bruce Williams.

Bruce was the biggest, scariest dude in school. He was captain of the football team and everyone knew not to mess with him. Anyway, they had agreed on no blades or weapons of any kind. Pete still got beat up real bad of course, but he didn't back down, even when Bruce pulled a wooden baseball bat on him.

We all tried to jump in and help Pete out, giving him a fair fight, but Pete wouldn't allow it. He had too much pride and too much integrity. He'd rather get beat up and lose than cheat to win.

Pretty soon those kids showed up on their bikes while we were chillin'. They seemed to be just goofing off for a while before approaching us.

'Hey what the hell y'all doin here so early?" Pete shouted as he sprinted up to them leaving us behind. Sally and I turned to each other with a quick glance and then followed quickly behind Pete.

"Y'all kids get outta here unless you're ready to fight now," Pete said.

Sally had already dropped her headphones on the ground gettin' ready to fight. I put both my fists in the air and shouted, "He's right we're gonna beat the hell outta ya!”

I saw what looked to be the oldest and leader of the group reach his fist deep into his front pocket. Assuming him to be reaching for a blade I put my left hand on my knife in my back pocket while still keeping my right fist in front of my face ready to either take a hit or quickly throw a punch.

Before he could pull anything out, Pete reached out his left arm, grabbed the punk by his shirt, and yanked him off of his bike.

Winding up his right arm and clenching a fist preparing to throw the first punch at the kid, when all of a sudden, we heard that dreaded sound. A police siren. The noise sounded like it was close. We all turned around quickly and the cop was sitting in his car on the other side of the lot.

“Damn it!” Pete Exclaimed. “I can’t get caught got by the cops right now, not again.”

Pete had had a record before and he always prided himself on doing jail time. He liked being a thug. So I wasn't sure why he was so freaked out this time.

“Why?” Sally asked him.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain it later, but I gotta go.”

Pete immediately dropped the chump he was holding and took off in the other direction. He hopped the fence into Erik's yard and kept running. The rest of us scattered, even the little brats we were about to fight knew that this time we were all on the same side against the cop and we would drop whatever beef we had with each other and make sure everyone got away.

The cop, after getting out of his squad car, for some reason didn't chase any of us and instead made a b-line towards the direction that Pete had run. I thought it was odd, but afterall the old store clerk was probably the one who called the cops and gave Pete’s description.

We pulled into the cemetery and I got out of the truck. Jason walked quickly over to Pete’s mom who was still crying and was having a hard time getting out of the car. Everyone knew it was cause she was never sober, certainly not at a time like this, but regardless, we take care of our own, that included our old friend’s mom and dad.

I hadn’t seen Pete after that night with the police in the vacant lot until the incident with Jackson Pierce and the backpack. I still wasnt sure where Pete had gotten the gun, but based on how he reacted to the cop showing up the other night I assumed that he had stolen it recently. Erik and I still hadn’t told Sally about the backpack or the gun, but maybe we thought should, so I went over to Erik’s place that night to talk about it.

The door was locked which normally would be unusual but I didn’t think much of it so I went around to the back window.

The yard was filthy and over grown. I picked up a rock from the gravel driveway and tossed it up at the window then sprinted back over to the front door. That was our signal we would often use to not wake up parents by knocking or ringing the doorbell. I figured this way Erik would for know it was me at the door.

I stood at the door with my hands shoved deep into my denim pockets. After about a minute Erik opened the door. “Come on in,” he said. Mom’s asleep and dad’s passed out drunk in front of the T.V.

We walked quietly to the kitchen. There I told Erik about the run in with the cops and that I thought we outta tell Sally about the backpack.”

“Alright then, it’s settled. Tomorrow morning let’s meet at Sally’s place with the backpack.” Erik said.

My mind still racing with thoughts from the days before, I watched as four strong men began lowering Pete’s casket into the ground. It was then that it me that I really was saying goodbye to my oldest friend for the last time. I turned my head trying to hide my tears as Jason put his hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

It was a hell of a fight. After Pete took off to meet Jackson Pierce at the old Seven Eleven I quickly ran home to tell Jason.

Normally, none of us would care about Pete getting into yet another fight, but with a gun involved this was different.

I got to our apartment building and Jason's truck wasn't there so I assumed he was working late.

I ran back to Sally’s place to find her sitting on her front porch with a ciggerete in her hand.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Pete, he uh, Jackson Pierce��uh gun FIGHT!" I panted trying to catch my breath.

"What about a fight?" Sally asked with a puzzled look on her face.

I stood up after catching my breath and nearly puking my guts out from running.

"Pete is on his way to the Seven Eleven to fight Jackson Pierce who has the gun!" I shouted.

"What the hell!" Sally said frantically. "How did he get the gun?"

"He jumped me." I explained. "Pete assured me he'll be fine, but I'm not so sure. Jackson Pierce was pissed about slashed tires or soemthing.”

"We gotta get over there." Sally said quickly as she jumped out of her chair and ran to get her bike.

I hopped on the back and we rode as fast as we could down to the Seven Eleven.

As we approached the building and could see from a couple blocks away lights from a cop car but what we didn't see until we got there neither one of us will ever forget.

There we were stopped on Sally's bike staring across the parking lot at a pool of blood and in the center was our dear friend Pete, dead. He had been shot.

“No!” Sally screamed as she threw down her bike not even realizing I was still on the back. She pushed past the baracades towards Pete’s body when a cop grabbed her arm.

“Get back little girl this is a crime scene.”

Sally crumpled to the ground and began sobbing.

“Where’s Jackson Pierce?” I asked the cop. “He had a gun. They were gonna fight. Where is he!” I finally shouted.

“Son, listen your friend here was the one with a gun. 38 caliber pistol that he pulled on the cashier. I saw him running out of the store as I pulled in. He froze, then pointed his firearm at my vehicle. After the first shot at my windshield I had no choice but to put him down out of self-defense.”

“No!” I screamed at the cop and then ran over to Sally in tears.

The cashier from the store was yelling at the cops, saying there was two of them and the other one had got away still armed. I saw two cops get into a squad car saying on the radio to be on the look out for a teenager in the nighborhood armed with a gun. Then the car took off.

I didn’t really think about what went down in the moment, but the two were probably planning to rob the gas station to settle something about money and Jackson Pierce being the coward that he is fled the scene letting Pete take the fall. I’m really glad he hadn’t shown his face that day at the funeral.

It’s been about a week since we laid Pete’s body in the ground, but honestly it felt like months now. I hung out with Erik yesterday, but we just sat in silence drinking a couple beers in the vacant lot. We went over to Sally’s house, but her mom says she refuses to leave her room. We are all still in shock over what happened.

“I don’t know what will become of our little gang in this run down neighborhood, but I do know for sure that things will never be the same. Not with our ol’ buddy Pete being gone.

I still can’t believe he went and got himself killed, of all the stupid things he’s done. I can’t be mad at him though. That was Pete for ya, wild and reckless and bound one way or the other to get killed or caught up in something bad.

I wish I had someone to talk to about everything that’s happened up ‘till now. Not like a therapist or any feelings shit like that, but just a friend who could listen. Everyone just remains silent. I honestly can’t blame them. It’s a lot to process.

At that, I set down my pen and closed my journal. I needed to take to a walk and maybe buy a pack of smokes.

#tragedy #flashbacks #short story

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke.

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes.

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?”

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!sam wilson #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha x reader #dark!sam wilson x reader #dark!thor #dark!steve smut

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sadomas0chist · 3 years

Text

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw // fluff

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 4k

tags/warnings: slow burn (?), penetrative sex, dom jean, praising kink, slight breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, confessions, cute jean (yes this needs a warning) cheesiness.

synopsis: you discover something jean has been keeping for himself and it ends up adding all the puzzle pieces together.

a.n: i don’t usually add songs for you to listen to while reading my work, but if you want to get in the mood stream Last Days Of Summer by Summer Walker. thank me later.

i would also like to add that this was meant to be a short series. i got other fan-fiction ideas and need to answer some of your requests. also, i know this part is kind of cheesy but jean is a big softie i can’t help it.

“Connie, what’s taking you so long?” I yelled from our porch, swirling my car keys around my finger. I heard more shuffling coming from our apartment before Connie rushed out, Jean following him, throwing his hoodie on, covering the shirt that was squeezing his muscles.

“I was looking for my dab pen,” he took a hit and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed pushing his shoulder making him miss the step and almost colliding with the ground. I snickered and walked past Jean to my car door before he grabbed my arm and pushed me back.

“Passenger seat babe.” he looked down at me with his lazy smile. I scoffed swatting his arm away, only to be lifted from the ground. “Jean you prick!” I yelled moving my legs around.

“And I’m the kid.” Connie laughed getting in the backseat, clearly not suspicious of his homie’s behavior. I sighed getting into the passenger seat and crossed my arms.

Jean mirrored my action, before cussing, as he felt squeezed by how tiny the space was. “Damn aren’t you a small thing?” he teased backing up the seat so he could feel more comfortable. He smacked my thigh making my eyes widen. I looked down to see him holding out his hand, motioning me to give him the keys. I rolled my eyes and slammed them down his hand. He chuckled before shaking his head and mumbled something underneath his breath.

He wrapped his arm around my seat, tilting his head backward, putting the car in reverse, and slowly drove back. He winked at me before he shifted gears. The car ride was basically Connie singing out loud to songs and Jean casually joining in, their interaction reminding me of Hitch and I.

After what happened last night, I texted the girls’ group chat and told them everything that happened and how Jean was suddenly becoming more and more possessive which was honestly uncalled for. If I want to overthink it, he was always somewhat flirtier with me than he was with any girl when we used to hang out back in the day. However, Sasha and Mikasa didn’t elaborate much into it as they told me to shrug it off, whilst Hitch was rather excited about me having a ‘sneaky link’.

And honestly, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t turn me on… I mean look at him. He’s at least 6 feet tall with sexy sleeve tattoos and a gorgeous mullet. His stubble fit him perfectly and his jaw was sharp. He looked so different and delicious.

“We’re here!” Connie shouted into my ear, shaking me off of my thoughts. Jean had already parked and was taking his seatbelt off. I followed his gesture and got out of the car, carefully closing the door behind me, Connie already outside taking a few hits of his dab pen. Our gaze locked, his lips instantly forming into a smile as he threw his arm around my shoulders and brought my head closer to his lips, kissing my temple. I grinned wrapping my hand around his torso and leaned my head on his shoulder.

I was lucky to have a brother like him. He always made sure I was okay and had everything I need and wanted. He was my support system and I couldn’t ask for more. “All good?” he mumbled, tilting his slightly towards Jean who was typing something on his phone, probably waiting for us before going into the diner.

I nodded and he squeezed my arm. “Come on, let’s go inside, the weather is chilly today.” Jean held the door open as we walked in and spotted an empty table. It was connected to a couch, two other chairs placed on the opposite side of the table.

I sat on the couch, my back relaxing into the soft red leather, before feeling the seat dip next to me. I tilted my head, only to be met with Jean’s cocky expression. Connie managed to sit on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “Y’all in the mood for burger and fries?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Jean stated leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs. I nodded and took out my phone from my pocket setting it on the table. We called over for the waitress and placed our orders. “I forgot to ask you, how are your studies going y/n?” he added, dropping his head on his fist that rested against the wood and looked at me. Connie rested his elbows on the table, intrigued by the conversation.

“I’m doing good actually. I still have some things to get done and I’ll finally have some free time for myself. I honestly can’t wait until I’m done with this semester. It’s so tough and for what.” I whined, dropping my head against my crossed arms. His hand wrapped around my shoulder and pushed me towards him, my head colliding with his chest. Taken off guard, my arms wrapped around his torso. “Aw, come on you’ll do great, you got nothing to worry about.” he patted my head and gently stroked my hair. I blushed at his move, my stomach forming a knot. He was being extremely soft and gentle and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't surprising.

“Here you go.” the waitress cheered placing our food down. She eyed Jean before averting her gaze from him as he pushed me closer to him, my head closer to his chest. I breathed into his cologne and managed to hear his heartbeat. Fast. His heart was beating so fucking fast.

Connie didn’t seem to mind as he laughed at his phone before turning it to Jean, showing him the picture of a half-naked model showing off her ass, a man who looked to be her boyfriend standing next to her. “Baldie I’m still here.” I scrunched my face. “Although the dude is kinda hot,” I added. Once the following words left my lips, Jean’s hand swiftly moved down my ass to grab it, making me slightly jump. I looked up to see him glaring down at me then looked back at Connie’s phone. Did this just happen?

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” He cocked his eyebrow making Connie roll his eyes. “Man you used to like it when I showed you pictures like that." he shook his head locking his phone. He stayed silent for a few seconds before pointing at Jean with a big grin. "Oh my god, you are seeing someone!” he whispered.

I removed myself from Jean’s grasp and adjusted my clothes as I dived into my food, enjoying the warm feeling down my throat. “Nah dude, although I must admit that I've been thinking nonstop about someone lately,” he confessed taking a bite of his burger, Connie doing vulgar movements with his hands before he did the same.

“Jesus Connie,” I whined throwing a fried potato at him. “We’re eating.”

“Um, excuse me?” He scoffed as Jean laughed, muttering a small 'here we go', obviously aware of what my brother was about to say next. “The Jean Kirschtein I know doesn’t catch feelings. This dude is a damn sex machine. Which I can relate to but you know what I’m saying." he raised his hands up. "Now tell me, who got you so wrapped around their fingers you can’t even flirt with other women now?” He paused before adding, “ And don’t think I forgot how you pushed off that girl who tried to grind on you two days ago at the club.” I frowned, all of this not making any sense to me. How could he be sleeping with me but seeing someone else at the same time?

I felt sick, my fingers dropping the sauce I was about to pour on my fries as I excused myself to the bathroom. I made my way into the small area and looked at my reflection. I felt dirty. I felt used. Was I going to wreck a whole relationship? Or whatever he calls it.

The door swung open minutes after, revealing Jean. He had a serious expression on his face as he approached me, my ass now pressed against the sink, his tall frame towering me.

“Why’d you leave?” he questioned moving my hair from my face, cupping my cheeks. “I wanted to wash my hands,” I replied trying to free myself from his grasp but miserably failed. I frowned as I tried to push him away again, but his hands grabbed my wrists holding them down. “I don’t believe you, I think you got jealous,” he smirked, his lips inches away from mine. I glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he was seeking.

“Jean let me go. Someone might walk in and Connie is waiting for us outside, also, the food won’t stay hot for long and I want to-“

“I was talking about you silly.” he interrupted me, his thumb now rubbing my bottom lip. “You’re so fucking gorgeous it’s unreal,” he mumbled. “Can I kiss you?”

What was happening… I stared into his eyes that were focusing on my lips. Could he be telling the truth? What if he just wants to get in my- oh wait, he already did… Fuck that was so overwhelming.

“Jean I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Yes or no?” I thought for a moment before softly nodding. “I need to hear it.”

“I want you to kiss me…” I whispered almost as if I didn’t want anyone to hear me, including him. I’ve always felt different around Jean and I never knew why, at least until now. He smiled lifting my head up with his finger under my chin, his lips resting against mine gently. My hands gripped onto his hoodie, kissing him with much passion.

I felt safe. I felt good. I felt content.

“You got my heart working overtime, y/n.” he confessed. I wasn’t able to process everything as it all felt like a fever dream. What if I just wake up and it turns out to be a dream. Did he just confess that he likes me in a diner’s restroom? My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts furiously rushing through my brain.

After Jean left to study in France, we never kept in touch. It is true that we used to be friends because of his friendship with Connie and it always felt different from my other friendships with other men like Eren or Reiner, but the distance and the lack of communication turned us into strangers and killed the ‘connection’ that was bonding us. I thought it was just a tiny teenage crush, but ever since he came back, everything returned to the way it used to be.

“Connie is probably getting worried about me.” I said making him let go of my grasp, his eyes still holding the same expression as before. I made my way out of the restrooms and slid my hands into my pockets. “Hey, I was about to follow you, you good?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him and sat back down taking small bites of my food.

“Y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” he took a sip of his soda looking at me worryingly. “Of course, I’m fine really.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. A few minutes went by and Jean was back on the table with us. We jumped from a conversation to another, casually laughing as we brought back the old days.

Connie proposed to drive back and we didn’t mind since we both fell full from the food. Jean sat in the passenger seat as I lead down on the backseat, texting the girls every single detail of what happened today. It didn’t take them long to start bombarding me with replies.

‘Holy fuck he said what now? He’s fucking WHIPPED.’

‘I did hear him saying something about a girl when we hung out with Connie four days ago but I would have never thought that it would be about you…’

Seriously Sasha? I sighed and locked my phone dropping it on my chest. It didn’t take us long to arrive at the apartment we were now sharing with him.

***

I dropped on my bed, stripped down naked as my blanket was the only material covering me. I thought about what Jean told me back in that diner. I sighed closing my eyes. As I was almost about to fall asleep, my phone chimed on my nightstand.

I reached out to grab it, the message showing on my lock-screen making me open wildly my eyes.

-jean

you up? if you are, can i come into ur room?

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my keyboard, occasionally typing something then deleting it.

-me

why? wassup?

It didn’t take him long to text me back.

-jean

i can’t sleep and i want to talk to you

I sighed typing a simple ‘okay’ and got up to put a shirt on. I heard a light knock on my door as I slid on the fabric, my hand reaching out to turn the doorknob.

“Hi,” I stepped aside, indicating him to come in before carefully closing the door. He sat on my bed and tapped on the mattress. I sat next to him and waited for him to talk about whatever he’s been wanting to get off his chest.

“About what I said earlier, uhm,” he cleared his throat.

“If you’re here to say that you didn’t mean it, you could have said it over text.” I assumed raising my eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened to me and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any bullshit, especially after getting my feelings mixed up. If he was about to mess around, I should do the same and ignore whatever I was feeling, hoping it would fade away over time.

“No, why would I do that?” he frowned and looked at me weirdly. Oh well, spoke too soon I guess. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Listen y/n,” he paused searching for the words. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get laid. We made an agreement and if I just wanted to have sex with you I wouldn’t have said anything about well, liking you.”

I stayed silent waiting for him to finish. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room as it peeked through my window. It was quite peaceful. “I think, no, I know I’ve liked you for a while. I never acted on it because your brother once threatened me jokingly about messing me up if I hurt you, and regarding the person I used to be, I would have most probably ended up hurting you and because of that, I decided to sleep on whatever I was feeling and hoped I'd move on from it. But holy fuck you and grew into such a smart and beautiful woman, I couldn’t help but let my feelings for you emerge again.” He cupped my cheek with his hand bringing me closer.

Fucking hell someone pinch me right now, I must be dreaming.

“However if you don’t like me back, or don’t want to hook up with me anymore, I’d totally understand.” I stared at him as I felt like I was looking at a different person. Now I get why Connie was so surprised when he heard Jean talking like that back at the diner. That wasn’t the Jean I was used to, or at least the Jean he became when he left for college. I wasn’t familiar with this new character development if I might call it.

“Why… why are you telling me all of this now?” I whispered, shifting in my seat to sit closer to him, our knees slightly brushing against each other. He brought his hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me closer to him. “You got my mind going crazy.” and with that, I pressed my lips against his, instantly feeling his lips kiss me back.

I straddled his lap and slid my tongue between his lips, our kiss sloppy and slow. His hands moved down to grip my ass, pushing me further to him, my bare cunt brushing against the soft fabric of his shorts. A moan escaped my lips as he gripped the hem of my shirt, lifting it, my nipples exposed to the chilly air. "Wait..." I pulled away and rested my hands on his chest. "We're gonna have to tell Connie."

He smiled and reached out to kiss me again. "First thing tomorrow. I don't think your brother is that oblivious anyway." he chuckled and squeezed my hips. I laughed, bringing his face closer to mine kissing him gently.

Our make-out session became more urgent ad rushed. Jean lied back, his hands resting on my waist as I took off my shirt. His hands reached out to grab my breast, fondling it with his big hand. My hips moved against him, the feeling of wanting to be filled by him becoming unshakeable. Removing myself off his hips, I crawled down and pulled down his sweats along with his briefs, his erection slapping against his stomach. I smirked at him as I began pumping his length, soft groans escaping his lips. I swirled my tongue over his tip and slit before sliding him down my throat, coating him with my spit. "Shit," his hips bucked forward, his cock going deeper down my throat. I started bobbing my head, my tongue running over his underside, feeling the pulsation of his prominent vein. Our eyes locked, his mouth agape and his chest slightly rising from his deep breathing. His hand fell on his eyes as he threw his head back, his fat cock now throbbing.

“Y/n, ah, fuck-“ he hissed grabbing a fistful of my hair and guided my head. I knew he was close and it made me wet as well. My fingers were already rubbing circles on my sensitive bud, my climax as close as his. I removed his dick from my mouth and straddled his lap. I aligned him to my entrance and slowly sunk onto him, sighs leaving both of our lips.

He felt insanely deep within me, his size stretching perfectly. I rested my hands on his chest as I ground on him, his hand lacing around my neck to bring me closer to him, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped in my mouth as his hand made their way to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and moving me upwards. I moaned into his mouth, my nipples brushing against his chest. I sat back up, my hands prompted back on his chest as I bounced my ass on him.

“Ride my cock baby just like that.” he moaned out. We were both already close to our orgasm, the sensitivity sending us off the edge. “You ride me so good, but-“ he sat up pushing me off him. “I want to fuck it in you,” he smirked pulling me off the bed and walking me to the wall, my back pressed against it. He wrapped his arms underneath my thighs and lifted me up, my legs snaking around him.

“Now stay quiet while I stuff you eh?” he breathed, pushing his tip inside me before thrusting his hips forward, almost hitting my cervix. My face hid in the crook of his neck, doing my best to silence my moans. My back moved against the cold wall, his whimpers and moans growing louder in my ear.

I shut my eyes close when he began rolling his hips faster, my orgasm rushing through my body. “Jean…” I whimpered tugging on his hair, my heels digging in his back. My arm was wrapped underneath his, my fingers scratching his back. I clenched around him making him hiss and fuck me harder, indicating that he was also close to reaching his climax.

“You wanna come with me?” I nodded staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “Yeah…” I mumbled out, biting down on my lower lip to keep quiet. “Yeah?” he mocked with a smirk before he started kissing my neck, occasionally leaving small bites next to my collarbone.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, my thighs shaking as my orgasm ripped through me. He quickly followed ropes of cum shooting inside me. He whimpered, stroking himself a little bit more before pulling out and carefully putting me down. As soon as my feet touched the floor, his semen began leaking out of my opening down my leg.

“Well shit better clean that.” he ran his fingers up my legs before pushing his cum back in me making me gasp. “You’re good now,” he smirked before lifting me off again, this time in bridal style as he walked me to the bed, carefully putting me down. “I would’ve loved to shower with you,” he stroked my cheek, his body hovering over me. “But I don’t want your brother walking in on us like that. At least not before I tell him everything.” he poked my nose before kissing my forehead.

I nodded my head, smiling at him. “I like you so fucking much,” he admitted once again, this time his lips kissing mine.

“I like you too.” he cocked an eyebrow at my confession. “I knew it,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

***

“Uhh, back the fuck up.” Connie pointed at Jean who was wrapping his arm around me in the kitchen. “You two like each other?” he waved his finger between us before stuffing his fork in his mouth again. I nodded and pushed myself closer to Jean. “Oh no.” he groaned pushing himself off his stool.

“No no no no no…” he repeated in annoyance as he walked past us. I frowned, turning to see him throwing himself on the couch. He threw his head back, another groan leaving his lips as he ran his hands us his face.

“I thought you’d be happy for me, what’s-“

“You had sex while I was in here?” he accused us dramatically in a high-pitched voice, faking his tears. Jean instantly laughed at his friend’s accusation. I let out a sigh of relief and shook my head before laughing at Connie who was fake gagging.

“We only did it the night you saw us together.” I played off. Connie gave me a ‘you think I’m stupid’ look and sighed.

“It was an everyday thing.” Jean corrected making me elbow his waist. He winced pinching my hip earning another hit. “Seriously man?” Connie whined. I mean, at least he wasn’t mad about us liking each other. The only thing that irked him, which is by the way overdramatized and ends up being one of his silly plays, is the fact that I had sex with him when he was sound asleep.

Connie sighed, his annoyed expression turning into a sly one. “I knew you two were fucking!” he laughed sticking his tongue out and clapping his hands. “Now that I’m positive that my sister got cuffed by someone I trust, I can finally sleep in peace.” I rolled my eyes before raising my hand to smack him but Jean pulled me closer to him making it impossible for me to move.

I looked up only to be met with his browns orbs already looking down at me with pure adoration. I could tell he was going to be one of the best things that have ever happened to me and I couldn’t be more thankful. Connie was still talking but I didn’t hear a word he said. Instead, I buried my face into his red hoodie and held him tightly. Who would have thought that my insignificant crush would actually make me feel so lucky?

“-she was and still is everything I’ve always wanted.” I heard him say before kissing my forehead.

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unohanadaydreams · 3 years

Text

This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.

But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3

so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]

Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

#jushiro ukitake #jushiro ukitake x reader #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach fanfic #i may go back and do this for a few other of my longer pieces #but this one i've had in mind for a while because i SUPER rushed the original

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

edge of the devil’s backbone

pairing: knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader

word count: 4,918

summary: Your knight has sworn to protect you always, even if that means committing a grave sin.

warnings: Smut, cussing, violence, murder, angst with a happy ending.

a/n: Lol I really hope you enjoy this. Bucky is kinda dark but?? Not really??? Also, I suggest listening to Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars while you read this.

It’s midnight when he slips into my room, Selene’s soft light guiding him to the bed where I lay, dozing peacefully amongst my mountain of pillows.

A slumber he hates to disrupt, but knows that he must.

To leave me without a word, without a goodbye and a promise to return one day when he can, would be the utmost betrayal to the delicate heart he holds in his hands.

“Princess,” he whispers. Slinking through the room like a cat, he manages to not make a single noise loud enough to wake me. It is not until his fingers gently brush against my cheek that my eyes flutter open.

“James? What’s going on?” I ask, brows furrowing as I slowly push myself up on my elbows. One hand holds the blanket to my chest, as though it’s anything he hasn’t seen before.

James is… familiar with my nightgowns, to say the least.

“I have to go,” he whispers, his hand shaking as he cups my cheek. “I have to go before they catch me.”

“What?” I lean into his touch instinctively, not even thinking about the strange wetness on his fingers that I feel. “What do you mean? What did you do?” When my eyes adjust to the light, I realize what he means.

James’s white undershirt is stained with blood, the hot liquid smeared across his cheek like it is on mine now.

Letting out a squeak of alarm, I rush to look him over, trying to find any injuries to speak of. “What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I killed him.”

I freeze, my hands pressing against his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Despite the chill of the oncoming winter, he is so, so warm. Even with the knowledge he has given me, there is nothing I want to do more than drag him closer and make him cocoon himself around me to keep the cold away. There is nothing that could ever make me not love him anymore. Even murder. I would still run to his embrace and spend the rest of eternity in his arms.

A foolish dream, considering our stations.

Even though James does love me the way I love him, my father would never allow a union between the two of us. James has been my personal guard since I was young, barely five years old. A peasant boy granted the honor of training to be a knight because he had found me after I had been kidnapped by bandits and kept for a ransom. He’d just been fourteen at the time, and braver and smarter than my father’s entire army.

But no, none of that matters. According to father, princesses must marry princes, who will make good kings.

Anyone with any sense could see that James was worth more than every prince and king put together.

“You killed him? What him?” I ask, rushing to get out of bed to grab a rag. I wet it carefully before moving to his side to gently clean off his face. Even though I want answers, that doesn’t matter as much as getting him presentable again.

But he pushes my hand away, his sea blue eyes glimmering with something that causes a pit to form in my stomach. “My princess… My love… I have to go,” he says, taking my hands in his and squeezing. “I killed Prince Brock, and they will know it was me come morning. I have to go…”

“James, don’t be ridiculous,” I scold as I try to start cleaning him off again, tugging to get his ruined shirt off. “You need to change. We’ll make it so they’ll have no idea it was you.”

James whispers my name, his bloody hand coming up to cup my cheek as though I am made of glass. “They will know it was me, and regardless if they didn’t, the king would still pin it on me… My affection for you is not exactly the world’s best kept secret… And we both know how the maids like to gossip…”

Tears prick my eyes, and I shake my head desperately. “No. No. You cannot leave, I forbid it!” I say, clutching onto him desperately. “James, you cannot leave me. Please, don’t leave me.” My throat is suddenly dry and tight, my heart pounding within my chest so hard that I am sure I will not make it out without a few broken ribs.

A small price to pay if only my knight will stay by my side.

“You have stayed by my side for sixteen years, do not leave me now,” I order, trying to put on my most commanding voice. I have been practicing for when I eventually become queen, but it has never ever worked on my most precious knight.

A choked laugh tears from James’s throat. It’s harsh and broken, a far cry from the usual melody that I chase after. “My love… If I do not leave now, they will have me in the gallows by noon,” he says quietly, his forehead pressing against mine. “Or worse, on the chopping block like a hen ready for the feast.”

I try to push the images from my mind, tears freely flowing down my cheeks. “No. No, they won’t know it was you. Please, don’t leave me… Or at least take me with you… Please…”

“I need you to promise me something, princess,” he says as both his hands hold my face, his calloused thumbs rubbing against the tender skin under my eyes to get rid of wayward tears. “If they catch me… If I am sentenced to death… Do not watch. Do not watch them hang me or draw and quarter me or behead me, whatever it is, I forbid you. Do you hear me? I said, do you hear me?!”

“They can’t kill you, I won’t let them,” I sob, still somehow trying to get him to stay. “I’m the princess, they have to listen to me.”

I have not gone a single day without seeing him in over sixteen years, and I do not plan to now.

But it seems as though there is nothing I can do to stop him.

The silk of my nightgown slides against my skin as I trace his features with my fingers. “Will you come back to me?” I ask desperately after he denies my request another time. “Once it is safe, will you please come back to me? Come home? I cannot live without you, without knowing you will come back to me one day…”

“I will,” he says reassuringly as he takes one of my hands and presses kisses over each fingertip, each neatly trimmed nail, each line in my palm. “I will… I swear to you… But I could not let him live after today in the garden…”

“I am not angry with you,” I whisper reassuringly as I watch him, trying my best to memorize even the smallest of details. “You swore to protect me… from anyone and everyone…”

“And I shall always keep my promise.” He says it with such conviction, with such a fire in his eyes. He always had, which is partially why I am not surprised that he punished the prince for his crimes against me.

When it comes to my safety, my happiness, James is the judge, jury, and executioner.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A growl rumbles in his throat as he pulls me closer, letting his eyes shut as he allows himself the comfort of knowing that Prince Brock had not gotten far enough to truly hurt me, to permanently mark me. “I told him that nobody who touches you without your permission gets to keep their hands. He didn’t believe me until about an hour or so ago,” he grumbles.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t fight the giggle that erupts from my lips. “My hero…,” I murmur as I look up at him. As my eyes meet his, I am reminded that he needs to leave. “I will miss you… Please… Try to find some way to write to me…”

“I will,” James says, his nose nudging against mine. His blue eyes sparkle with tears as he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Steven knows I am leaving… He knows what I have done. He is the one you can trust with your safety now, the only man I trust with your life, and he is outside your door now.” Chapped lips press against my forehead for a lingering moment. “I will write to him, and he will get the letters to you. I swear on my life, princess.”

“Before you go…” I take a deep breath. “Before you go, will you grant me a kiss? Just one…”

It is a request he does not think hard about, grabbing my face and kissing me so gently I think I may wither away from the sheer tenderness. “I love you,” he says, stealing another kiss from my lips, over and over again.

It seems that now that he has started, he cannot stop.

Or will not.

I will not argue either away.

“I love you… I love you more than words can say, James,” I say, fingers tangling in his long hair.

“I must take my leave, my darling… my dearest,” he breathes out. “Before dawn comes and the lark sings…” He stands, his weight disappearing from the bed, and a pang hits my heart. “You must get sleep, my sweet nightingale. Once they realize what has happened and that I have disappeared, they will question you for hours, I am sure, if not all day. But rest well knowing that when you wake, I will be safe and waiting until I may come back for you.”

Tears roll down my cheeks as I hold onto his hand for as long as possible. “I cannot watch you leave,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You don’t have to, my love,” he says soothingly, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Rest… I will be home to you before you can even miss me…”

His hand slips from mine, and I do not hear him leave the room. “James, please don’t leave me!” I say as I open my eyes, thinking he was still there.

But he had slipped through the door without a sound and left me alone in my cold bed.

My dearest,

It has been a month since I left you, and it has been the hardest month of my entire life. I did not have the time to write to you until now because I was unable to get my hands on some parchment and a quill, and I had some trouble finding some place where your father and King Alexander could not reach me.

I cannot risk telling you precisely where I have had the luck to find myself, on the off chance that the letter is intercepted. I cannot see why it would be, as it is carefully hidden with a letter written to Steven, but considering the man that I know your father can be…

Well, I am aware that I shall not need to explain more than that.

What I can tell you is that the sea here is beautiful. The journey here was hard, filled with storms and a tumultuous sea, but it was worth it. Though, it would be much better if you were with me to see it, my love, but you already know that. Seeing the sun rise on the blue water—Water clearer than any I have ever seen before!—made me hopeful for the first time since I left your side. In fact, the dress that you wore to your father’s last birthday feast is the exact shade of the sea here. The soft sand reminds me of the gold trim, the white diamonds embedded in the leather…

Do you see what you have done to me, my love? I miss you so, my heart longing to see you again, to hold you, that I have started to wax poetic about your gowns.

I cannot start on the way the flowers here remind me of the scarlet rouge you use to stain your cheeks and your sweet lips or I shall never stop. But, I have dreamed of your lips each night, of the way that my name falls like a prayer, of the way you told me you love me… I dream of kissing you again. More mornings than not, I wake with tears on my cheeks because of the need I feel to have you close again. I had waited for so many years to finally tell you how I feel, despite knowing the way we both felt it, and the night that I did, I had to leave.

It feels like a tragedy from one of those books you like to read so much.

One of the sailors on the ship guessed that I had left a woman behind that had broken my heart, and he told me that time would heal the gaping wound. It was all I could do to explain to him that I had been the one to break both of our hearts, and that time could do nothing because I am counting the days until I may run to you again.

Time may also do nothing because of the depth of my adoration for you.

I wish that I could tell you where I am so that I may receive a letter in return. I hope you do not regret what happened the night I left, the kiss.

I hope you will still want me, still love me, when I return to you.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been a year since I have seen you last, since I left your side, and I fear I am on the verge of dying if I cannot get a glimpse of your sweet face soon.

Despite writing to you every few weeks, I feel as though there is so much more I can say. Every tiny little thing that occurs during my days, I wish to tell you. I wish to tell you so you do not think that I am at the taverns, flirting with every wench that I set my eyes on. Despite the way they bat their eyes, they can do nothing to even catch a glimpse from me because I am always picturing you.

Have you thought of me since that night? I imagine you have had to, since I am writing to you and I am sure that Steven is getting these to you. He may be a dunce in some things, but he is generally a capable man.

When I saw you in your bed that night, slumbering so peacefully, my first thought was that you looked like an angel. I had been worried that I would be scared to touch you, to even set my eyes upon you, after what I had done. But all I felt was reassurance that I had done the right thing.

I still cannot apologize enough for leaving you alone in that garden for so long. Despite knowing that it technically wasn’t my fault, considering that the king had called for me to discuss the journey back home, I am wracked with guilt. I should have had a servant fetch Steven to take my place while I was gone before I left. But, I was naïve enough to assume that the palace guards that were present in the garden would protect a princess, even from their prince.

Coming back and seeing you so upset, panicking as he gripped your soft, sweet body hard enough to bruise… I had realized when I looked at you that you thought I had abandoned you.

I hope you know that no matter where I am, I have not abandoned you. I could never leave you forever, my dearest.

Your handkerchief no longer smells like you. I had swiped it from your room as I left, needing something to comfort me on my journey. I sleep with it pressed to my nose so that I may see you in my dreams. But now it has lost your scent, and I have been on a search to find the perfume that you wear so that I may buy a bottle and need not worry about it losing your scent again, but alas, I have not been able to come across it.

I fear it would not smell exactly like you anyway, my love, and I would simply be disappointed.

I have pressed a few more flower petals to send to you, but I may not be able to send them again for a while, as winter will be here soon. Even in this warm kingdom, it brings a chill that withers the flowers and crops. Until then, I shall send you as many as possible.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been two years to the day, and I can only pray to whatever gods that I will be able to be with you forever soon.

Did you get my present? I snuck into the palace after deciding that I couldn’t wait much longer to see you. Even if I was not able to speak to you, just seeing your angelic face as you slept gave me a moment of peace. My heavy heart was lightened.

You may need to hide the letters I write you better, it only took me seconds to find your hiding spot. Of course, your father doesn’t know you as well as I do, so he most likely won’t think to check behind your mirror.

The necklace I left on your pillow is inlaid with pure opals and diamonds. I had never heard of opal, I must admit, until I found my way here. It is a great source of pride in this kingdom. I knew the second I saw it that you would look absolutely stunning in it.

Perhaps you will wear it on our wedding day.

Every day I grow fearful that your father will find another suitor for you and force you to marry him before I can make it back to you. I know how adept you are at avoiding the princes and lords that he shoves in your direction, but what can I say? To see you with another man, even if you did not truly wish to be with him, would kill me.

I have been on a ship again for the last few weeks, so unfortunately there is not much to write to you about. But please, know that you are in my thoughts every moment of every day.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

I have just gotten the news of your father’s passing.

I am on my way home to you.

All of my love,

Your James

I sigh as I sit on the throne—my throne. Mere hours before, I had been crowned as the new queen of my kingdom.

The scepter is heavy in my hand, the cold metal seeming to burn my skin. How can I do this on my own?

My father raised me to be a queen, a wife, but not to rule. I was raised to be the queen to a king, to support the man I end up marrying as he rules the kingdom.

But the only man I will ever marry is not here.

Steven is standing beside the throne, his hands clasped behind his back. He has been good to me the last few years, as I have waited desperately for the day that my love, my true knight, will come home to me. “You are troubled,” he says quietly as the both of us watch the nobility dance in magical patterns that draw the eye and lift the spirits. “You should be excited, Your Majesty. Today is a day of great celebration.”

“He isn’t here,” I say. It’s all I need to. His last letter is pressed against my breast, hidden inside my gown. The necklace he left for me is heavy around my neck, the precious jewels glinting in the light. “He said he was coming so where is he?”

The prince that had been seeking my hand before my father died is present, his gaze continuously finding me as he slowly works his way closer. Over the past weeks, I’ve been able to avoid his advances with claims of my grief.

As if I could ever truly grieve a man as cruel as my father.

“It is possible his ship may have been caught in a storm,” Steven comments, trying to soothe my anger. He has seen how unstable my emotions can be when James is not close by. “He will be here. You know he will, my queen.”

I am growing more and more annoyed as I realize that I will soon be expected to join the dancing. But dancing is the last thing I want to do without my love there.

Beside me, Steven tenses, and I watch as his blue eyes flit around the room. “Interesting…,” he says under his breath, almost too low for me to hear.

“What is it?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

“It appears that your latest suitor has disappeared.”

What? Brows furrowing, I look around the room, pointedly searching for Prince Quentin for once. Sure, he is a handsome man, but his blue eyes are forgettable when I compare them to James’s. “Well, perhaps he found some maid to consort with in the gardens,” I say with an eye roll, quickly giving up on the search. “It is not as though he is getting any sort of connection from me. Let him have his fun.”

Steven snorts, his head dipping for a moment. “I think it is time for you to join the dancing,” he says simply, in a tone that makes me wonder what he has up his sleeve.

He knows something that he is not telling me.

“Fine,” I say with a glare in his direction, getting to my feet. I hand my new scepter off to the servant who has immediately rushed to my side, the song currently floating in the air coming to an end. A new one begins as I step into the fray, easily joining the dance.

I am so swept away in the swirling skirts and joyous laughter of the crowd that I do not notice the man that had joined the dancers on the other side.

Passing from partner to partner, I keep a fake smile plastered on my face and absentmindedly nod with everything that is said to me.

“It has been a long time, my love.”

My eyes snap up to focus on the man whose arms I have just been passed into, and my heart stops inside of my chest. “James?” I breathe out. My eyes well up with tears just at the sight of his loving face, his sea blue eyes sparkling in the bright light of the ballroom. “James, is it really you?”

His smile is almost blinding, and I realize that his own eyes are glassy as well. “It is me, my princess. Or should I say, my queen?” Despite the rest of the people around us switching partners, he refuses to let me go, his hand tight on my hip and the other holding my hand firm. “I saw your coronation this morning. You looked radiant. You still do, my dearest…”

I barely notice the world around me as I watch his tongue flick out between his teeth to wet his chapped lips. “You were there?”

“Of course I was,” he chuckles, his large hand squeezing my hip. “Do you really believe that I could ever even risk missing your coronation, sweetheart?” Feeling the crowd’s stares, he leans in a little. “Meet me in the garden in a few moments. By the gazebo.”

Twirling in time with the music, my heart sinks as I am passed to the next partner and the next. My hands are trembling with the fear that he could disappear again. Logically, I know that he won’t. But after spending so many years away from him…

“Go,” Steven says after I finally break away at the end of the dance. “He is waiting for you.”

I don’t need to be told twice. As I make my way to the corridor to slip out to the gardens, I have to reassure several servants that I am alright, but just escaping for a fresh breath of air.

The gazebo he told me to meet him at is further back in the garden, out of view from any of the palace windows. His dark figure stands at one of the railings, looking out at the ocean. The necklace around my neck burns as I take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair is longer than it was when he left, and stubble lines his face.

Did he shave just for me?

I like the thought of him preparing to see me, nervously checking his appearance in the mirror. Perhaps he bought a new jacket and waistcoat in his excitement.

“James?”

He turns to look at me immediately, a smile brightening his face, and I feel as though I am a teenager again, fresh with the feelings of love and adoration. “My dearest…” He does not waste any time as he pulls me close, his lips slotting against mine and his hands roaming over my body. “I have missed you… I have dreamt of you each night.”

And I know that anyone could come out and see us at any moment. And I know that the gossip would run rampant and the possible alliance with Prince Quentin’s kingdom could crumble.

But I do not care.

I have been craving his touch for years, praying to the gods he would come home and hold me just as he is doing now.

“I need you. I need you, James,” I say as my hands tug at his jacket and push it off his shoulders, going for his waistcoat next.

Thankfully, he does not argue. “You’ve dreamt of this as much as me,” he says in relief as he unties my corset enough to tug it down to reveal my chest to him. James chuckles as he catches his letter as it falls. “You kept this so close to your heart, my love.” Seeing the letter only makes him more ravenous, his lips attaching to my neck as he works his breeches down.

Pain runs through me as he sits and pulls me on top of him, finally joining our bodies together, but I don’t take the time to care. The glory of finally being with him is far greater than any pain I could ever feel.

We are so tangled that you cannot tell where one of us ends and the other begins as he moves me, taking his pleasure and granting me my own.

“You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at my neck. “That sorry excuse for a prince thought he could touch you. Thought he would ever be worthy enough for you.”

It suddenly occurs to me that his arrival and Prince Quentin’s disappearance were correlated, and I see a drop of blood on his white undershirt.

It tears a moan from my throat.

The knowledge that a man as powerful, as strong, as my knight would protect me in such a dangerous manner, so desperately, sends a jolt down my spine. The fact that he is willing to go to the ends of the earth, to commit such a sin…

It is delicious.

The dagger he must have used glints in the low light of the moon as it rests on the stone floor, having fallen from his breeches when they’d been torn down. The sharp edge is crusted with a dark red, almost brown substance.

“I am all yours. I have always been yours, my knight,” I say as my fingers tangle in his hair and pull, our lips locking. “I love you. I love you so. I cannot breathe without you.”

“I am never leaving you again. Never.” His teeth grab onto my lower lip as he picks up the pace, grinning as he glances down to watch my body. “Fuck… It’s even better than I dreamed of. I love you so much, my queen.”

My release is fast and hard, knocking the breath out of my lungs as I cling to him, my nails scratching at his back and creating a rip in his shirt. “JAMES!”

James is quick to follow, his hips jerking as he reaches his peak and spills inside of me. “Perhaps you will become heavy with my child,” he whispers as he steals another kiss, tenderly fixing my dress before helping me stand and dressing himself. “Perhaps we will have a little prince or princess on the way.”

“Well…” A smile spreads over my face as I cup his cheeks, running my fingers over the dark stubble. He would look so delectable with a beard. “In case you have not been informed, I have been made queen… And I decree that you are to be my king.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest as he pulls me close once more, dipping me low and kissing me something fierce. “Your wish is my command, my dearest.”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes royalty au

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andromedarune · 2 years

Text

[Piers/Reader] “Kiss on 3, Okay? 1, 2... 2 and a half... umm???”

OOOOOooooo I’m working up my sanity and skill to write fanfic again so what better way to do that than by procrastinating on a paper due later tonight WHOOOHOOOOO!!!!

SUMMARY: “You're working on music for Piers' next set, and confirm a few things to yourself. Really just mindless fluff/angst stuff in a very stream-of-consciousness ficlet - don't mind me~~~”

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35575087

(Hit Keep Reading to read the whole thing~!)

“Uhhhmmm --” his humming interrupts your thoughts “-- I beg yer pardon?”

You turn back towards Piers, blinking ever so innocently as you stirred the honey further into your cheap, instant-make coffee. His brows are furrowed, thick black barbs of shadows wrenched into one along his forehead. Blue eyes piercing -- he hates whenever you say that.

“What’s the matter now?”

He jabs his thumb back towards the computer screen. “What the hell did you do to the second chorus?”

“I put it into cut time.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause,” you linger on the sizzle of your words, resolving it’s hiss with a swig of your piping-hot coffee, “it mellows things down for a bit, gives everyone a breather.”

He scoffs, glancing down at the notation software on the computer you presented to him not too long ago. “Yeah, right. Like I ever need a breather.”

You don’t deny that statement. Better sip your coffee before that thought ramps up.

He drags his eyes across the screen once more. One finger rests instinctively around the silver of his choker, toying with its spikes and slides, mindless, clueless -- you were sure by now that he had no idea of how often he fidgeted with that damn thing. Once, you’d caught him doing it almost fifty times in one sitting; you were watching a new show -- together, for once -- legs tangled up below a heated blanket he insisted you buy before winter hit (even though he always ended up hogging it the whole time). Too distracted to watch, you pretended to watch, while watching other, more important things. Specifically someone’s nervous ticks.

His left hand slaps the spacebar. Listening to a payback of some section -- probably the bridge, you think to yourself as you steal another sip of your coffee. Good thing you’d bought some honey this time; Piers prefers his coffee as black as night, and while you weren’t against that, sometimes you needed to bring some goddamn happiness into your life. Piers oughta figure that out too -- he’s getting there, you figure. He’s getting there, even if it takes baby-steps cut in half.

He pulls out the earbuds. Shooting you an incredulous look, you make the poor decision to muscle through your mouthful of coffee -- there goes most of it, spilling down your lips and onto your shirt as the laughter shoots through you in a disastrous tremolo.

“Yer shittin’ me --” he’s trying not to laugh -- you know he’s holding it down, trying still to play like a hardass, “-- what the actuall fuck is happening after the bridge?!”

“Oh -- so you got to the fun part then, yeah?”

He snaps your name -- his snarl always loses its edge then, when it has to deal with matters of you -- and Marnie too, but that’s a different tone altogether. You meet his glare, smug despite your coffee stains. “Do I look like a bloody Octillery or what?”

Another laugh slips out of you. “It’s just a little metric modulation, a little tempo shift, no big deal -- a little extra practice and I know you can handle a few itsy-bits quintuplets on bass, yeah?”

“Yer killin’ me.”

You shrug. Makes us even, then.

Finally satisfied with your drink (or what little you actually got to drink), you deposit your mug into the awaiting sink before taking the long way around the kitchen back to him. His eyes are back onto the screen once more, lost to the world of not-music, his thumb pricking itself with the dull point of the upper spikes in his collar.

Pfft, collar -- you called it that once, teasing the metal in your own fingers, wanting to see his reaction. He had stared you down for so long that day, default sternness remaining hauntingly so on his face, you almost pulled away, afraid that you had gravely overstepped your boundaries. Before you made it out of reach, he flicked the wrist of your retreating hand, hiding his snicker with the click of his tongue -- “Do that again and yer gonna be the one fitted for a collar, got it?” You’ve been stuck here ever since, hopeless and thoughtless, trailing after the likes of someone who literally forgets to do amazingly simple things, like actually drink his disgustingly bitter coffee.

“Oh, right,” he mutters, watching you snake around behind him to retrieve his half-drunk coffee cup from the table. You can feel him stealing glances as you pop the cup into the microwave. His wordless thanks reach you even still, easier and faster with every day you stick around. Hell, one day he might even figure out how to say it.

You don’t let your thoughts dwell too long on things that can’t be helped; instead, you swivel around again, crossing your arms over your chest with a curious tilt of the head. “Thoughts?”

He glances down at the screen. Lips pursing, frowns furrowing, jaw clenching -- goddamn this isn’t fair. This is hardly a fair fight. You’d told him that before, too, shamelessly honest and true with your feelings for once -- “Relax, it’s just one battle -- you’ll catch up to me soon enough.” He hadn’t gotten it, but it’s not like you made it easy for him to understand. The two of you were amazing at these foolishly clever ways to say half-truths, burrowing feelings beneath computer screens and heated blankets and honey-less coffee -- a match made in heaven, one may say. Not you, though, not aloud.

He sighs, a crooked smile sparking instinctively onto his face.

“Guess I’d better get practicin’ then. Don’t wanna disappoint my music theorist, right?”

It’s your turn to scoff. You’re even there, too.

“Not a thing, but okay.”

“Eh, close enough.”

The microwaves beeps. Piers’ eyes are back onto the computer screen, everything pursed and furrowed and knotted and tangled and just a step out of reach. You open the little door to pull out his warmed, not-sweet-enough-or-at-all coffee, cheap and easy, to bring back to his side. You do so, ignoring the stains on your white work shirt that you’ll likely have to bleach late tonight, knowing Piers’ll use your every weakness in effort to keep you around a little while longer to practice his next set. And you do so well, knowing that you’re here hopelessly and thoughtlessly, finding every stolen glance -- every wordless thanks -- from him to be worth it a thousand times over.

You take your usual seat beside him.

“Close enough.”

Close enough.

#fanfiction #piers x reader #piers/reader #one-shot #drabble #some fluff #some angst #LOTS of introspection #gender neutral reader #piersxreader #swsh #pkmn #sword and shield #pokemon #I love this man #I really do #also shout out to whoever is still surviving on the few piers/reader stories on ao3 like y'all #y'all the real ones

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years

Text

call out my name pt. 2

summary: spencer rushes off to fix things with y/n, but can they really be fixed?

word count: 2,371 reading time aprox: 9 mins

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you for all the support and praise i received on here, especially seeing all of my favorite authors comment and reblog my work is so heartening. thank you all so much for the support, you’re the reason why i have the encouragement to continue doing what i love <3

masterlist

part 1

The rain pattered against the window panes, interlocking with the light that shone through the sheer curtains of my apartment. A cold breeze slipped through the crack of the window, letting it venture through the dim room before it graced my skin. Although the sensation hadn’t registered in my mind as the plain beige wall in front of me consumed my attention.

The hypnotic sound of the rain provided a consistent rhythm that encouraged my introspection. In the entire duration of my break, I’ve let my thoughts filter and organize themselves. I’ve felt powerless against the accusations that my brain has thrown towards me, setting my emotions to the side in a state of suspense.

My knees were curled up against my chest, my unwashed hair scrunched up against my cheeks, and my sweater was littered with unknown stains and dried tears. Along with the descension of my reasonability, my hygiene followed shortly after.

I was brought out of my bubble by the buzz of my phone. I turned it off weeks ago from the constant notifications I got from the team, it was only when I received a text message from my mother that I decided to turn it back on for the day.

I reached over to the side table where my phone laid, feeling my muscles tense up and ache from the lack of movement I’ve done these past weeks. Turning it on, the intense light blinded me, leaving me disoriented. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change of light, I wished that I had been blinded a little longer than I was.

The notification read ‘New Voicemail: JJ <3’

My breath got pushed back in my throat, a wave of discomfort flooding over my entire body as my thumb hesitated over the notification. My lips trembled, swallowing my saliva while a debate ensued between my impulsivity and my timidity. With a numb boost of confidence I hurriedly pressed on the notification, traveling through my phone to hear out her message.

“Hey Y/N” The message began. “I know that you heard...about what I said to Spence-” Her voice was low and full of penance, although any remorse that I tried to comprehend washed away at her use of Spencer’s nickname. “Gosh, I don’t even - I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for what I said - I - you don’t know how much Spence loves you and how much he talks about you” She sighed, her tone picking up as she praised Spencer. “But what I said was completely inappropriate and I’m so sorry for what I said. Telling Spence that I loved him was way out of line, considering that you’re such a dear friend to me, and especially since things are so complicated with me and Will - I just - I’m so sorry that I told him that I love-”

The rest of the message was left to the imagination as I forcefully threw my phone against the beige wall, denting it in the process. A flurry of newfound rage clouded my mind, providing a break from the contradicting thoughts that usually engulfed my head. For once, I had directed the emotion towards another individual rather than myself.

The phone fell with a heavy thud, glass debris flying across the floor, decorating the oak floors with fragments. I could care less about the material expense that I would have to pay; my blind resentment tainting my rationality.

My chest heaved in exasperation as a novel onslaught of tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Although the quantity of tears were sparse because they were wasted on my self reproach the previous week. I furiously wiped them away, detaching myself from the malicious feeling, a habit I came to develop.

I adapted to the stupefaction that infiltrated my heart, at times feeling grateful for the ability. The coldness that surrounded my small living room couldn’t compare to the icy innards of my chest.

Finally collecting my composure, I looked over to a mirror that sat between my bookshelves, taking in my disheveled and ragged appearance.

JJ wouldn’t look like this

My face contorted into a somber expression, letting my insecurities slip through the hard persona I persisted to instill in myself. I surveyed the filthy environment that surrounded me; the floor was painted with old dirt, the furniture had accumulated colonies of dust, and the roses that sat on the kitchen counters had wilted.

JJ would never let herself go like this

Who was I kidding? Who was I, Y/N Y/L/N, to compare to a Georgetown graduate, an astounding profiler, and an icon of beauty?

Well the one thing I had that she didn’t was Spencer

But did I really?

I was startled out of my grim assessment by a frantic knocking against my front door. I groaned internally, not hesitating to stay where I was situated. I couldn’t handle any human interaction at the moment, frankly I didn’t want any human interaction at all. I’ve learned to love the little cocoon I had built around me, finding serendipity in my self-isolation.

“Go away!” I attempted to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whimper that sent a sharp pain to my esophagus. I flinched as the knocking became more frantic, the volume elevating along with the forceful jabs against the wood.

I felt my ears ring, using my hands to alleviate the pounding that attacked my eardrums. I was about to open my mouth to disclose another warning, but a familiar voice had interrupted me.

“Y/N! Y/N are you in there!” Spencer yelled, slamming his fists against the door between every phrase.

I froze in my spot, a wave of mixed emotions coming over me as my cheeks flushed at hearing his voice for the first time in a long time. The familiar sound sent shockwaves down my spine and dread silenced my tongue. It felt like I was on high alert, like an animal paranoid of its prey.

“Y/N! Just - god please tell me you’re at least okay” He stammered in his fit of hysteria, the bangs on the door slowing in rhythm.

Silence followed his pleas, instilling a sense of relief that I didn’t know I needed. Movement outside stilled, making me think that he had given up his relentless efforts and went elsewhere. I let out a breath that I held in, alleviating the stress that had accumulated inside of me.

Although the moment that I began to relax into my seat, two blaring shots rattled through the apartment complex. The scent of gunpowder meshed with the dewy air as I jumped out of my seat, startled and alarmed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my palms, the ringing leaving me blindsided.

“Y/N! Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer rushed in with his gun pointed, his feet clattering against the floor in a haste.

“What the fuck Spencer” I hoarsely whispered, although the meekly volume of my voice hadn’t penetrated this ears.

“Y/N!” He called out once again, slowing his movements as his sneakers squeaked with every step he made.

“I’m here Spencer, I’m here” I repeated, using all my might to push the small phrase off of my tongue. My throat stung at the strain of my voice, a burning feeling eliciting from the back of my throat due to the dryness. This time I had caught his attention.

We locked eyes for a brief moment before I quickly broke our line of sight, insecure about my current appearance; even after a month I still held Spencer’s opinion to the highest magnitude. In the time that I observed him, I noticed that he was drenched in rain water, his hair tangled and strung out from his head while droplets proceeded behind him.

“I-” He breathed, his words caught in his throat. He dropped his revolver beside him in incredulity, drinking in my battered presence. He didn’t look too well either, his stature was still the same but the bags under his eyes were prominent, his cheeks were puffed from exhaustion, and his posture resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame.

“W- what are y- you doing here Spencer?” I croaked, rubbing my hands against my arms in an attempt for any type of coverage.

My senses heightened as I waited for his response. He brought in such a familiar, yet unfamiliar presence with him. It felt like I was home, but so far away from it at the same time.

Maybe it was the way that I longed for the warmth of his embrace, the calming rhythm of his heart beat while I slept on his chest, and the soothing melody of his voice while he read to me. But maybe it was also the way he hadn’t dared to speak when JJ’s voice was full of love, when he assumed that I hadn’t acknowledged the endearments he received from another woman, and when I became a distant thought in the back of his head.

I’ve never doubted Spencer’s eidetic memory, but this time I questioned my place in that brilliant mind of his. Maybe for the first time, I was the one thought that had ceased to exist.

“I - why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered, running his hand over his jaw in grievance. His eyes burned holes into me, the intense glare making me feel small under his scrutiny.

I couldn’t answer

“God Y/N - I don’t even - why didn’t you even tell me?”

“I - uh - I don’t” I stuttered, unable to muster the confidence or cognitive ability to speak; it was like my brain had turned into mush.

“Please talk to me” He pleaded, taking a hesitant step closer to me.

I stumbled back in a haste like he was some sort of repellent. I felt a constant push and pull in my gut, messing with my innate instincts.

“Spencer don’t-” I warned, seeing how he had taken a few determined strides towards me.

“Spence...please don't - p- please” I whimpered, feeling a wet substance slide down the apple of my cheeks. I tasted the crimson blood mix with the salty residue on my lips, unaware of how hard I bit down on the skin.

Pained tears continued to fall incessantly from my eyes, matching the way the rain ran down my window panes previously. I saw Spencer’s figure slump down in defeat, the helplessness in my words permeating his eardrums.

“Y/N just - please let me fix - Y/N just please let me fix us” He solicited, looking to me for permission to advance.

“Spencer there’s no need for fixing anythi-”

“Yes there is Y/N-”

“No there isn’t Spencer!” I persisted, convincing myself that I had everything under control. I shut my eyes in frustration, shaking my head in denial while I reminded myself of all the malicious emotions I refused to feel.

“Y/N please just list-”

“No Spencer. I know what to do and I know how to deal with-”

“No Y/N! No you don’t - god you’re so stubborn sometimes -” He imprudently blurted out, pinching at the bridge of his nose to collect his composure. “Y/N - please just…” He sighed, looking deep into my eyes from a distance. “Please just let me in” He begged, a few tears slipping from the corners of his somber irises. His face wore an anguished and desperate expression, an expression that had the ability to end a war.

My cold exterior shattered instantaneously from the sight of Spencer, feeling my heart being tugged into multiple directions until all that was left was a pained human muscle. As much as I wanted to convince myself of an ardent persona, I knew that Spencer was the only person that could invoke such a visceral reaction from me. Whether I accepted the feeling or not, I knew that Spencer’s effect on me was unmatched to any delusions I made myself to believe.

My lips trembled uncontrollably as a soft sob rolled off my tongue. I looked to Spencer for aid, feeling my entire facade crash and burn. My knees buckled and weakened from reality coming in all at once. When the first cry fell from my mouth, more followed soon after.

I became a drenched mess that sat in the middle of the living room. I felt deceived by myself, developing a sense of self resentment as my mindset came into actualization. I grieved for the fragment of myself that I secluded and killed off because of my inability to process my agony, longing for that piece of me back.

Spencer came to my rescue, engulfing me in his arms and encroaching me with his touch. I leaned into his chest, desperately clutching onto the dress shirt he wore. My tears stained his blazer, leaving puddles along the fabric, but I couldn’t care less.

I breathed in the sedative scent, feeling it flush through my nostrils, reminding me of home. I held onto his arms tightly, afraid that he would disappear the moment I let go of him.

Spencer tried to reach down to grab a hold of my cheek, but I nudged his fingers away, climbing into his lap as I buried my face into the crook of his neck.

He cooed into my hair, stroking my back while he whispered his endearments in my ear. “You’re okay Y/N - we’re going to be okay” He breathed, letting out a staggered exhale as he enunciated his words.

Light rushed into my chest at that moment, letting it conquer and cut through the caution tape I had wired around my feelings. Shutting my eyes, I relaxed into his love, letting it infiltrate and replace my fears.

I didn’t doubt that it was going to take time to heal and repair, but at least it was beginning.

“I love you so so much Y/N - more than you can ever conceive” He declared, pressing a soft kiss on my temple. “And nobody will ever tell me otherwise”

I knew from that moment that I didn’t have to walk on a tightrope no longer because I knew it was my name that Spencer would be calling out.

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @linthebinbag @goldentournesol @andiebeaword @moon-light-jukebox @pizzarollsfordayz @baby-i-am-fireproof @cielo1984 @spncersreid @101donuts @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @parkeroffline

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rayslittlekitten · 3 years

Text

You Got This - Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first if you haven't.

Plot: After having a heart to heart, you and Jax re-live your youth.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: a lot of fluff and fluffy sex, also a shit ton of Jax smoking porn, and you see his butt 🙃

A/N: Thank you Anon for this request. I hope you and the other readers enjoy this (if not more) than the first part. This took me longer than I expected to write this, but it's finally done. I kept going back and forth on trying to decide what to include and what not to. Also, had I known I was going to be writing a part two for this, the beginning of this would have been at the end of part one, but hindsight is 20/20. I actually did already write out most of the beginning but decided to leave it out of part one because I thought where I left it was a good place to end it. I also thought about eliminating it completely but I really like the interaction that happens with Gemma. To me it's like a beauty shot. Is it necessary and does it move the story along at all? Not quite, but it looks good so let's just leave it in there anyways. Also to squeeze a little bit more angst out of Jax.

Also, I had a bit of trouble writing this as well because as strange as this sounds, I couldn't find the perfect song to pair with this. Sometimes I need music to help me get into the mindset and mood. I was going for like a nostalgic summer love kinda thing. I had actually thought to use a song form the mid-90s because to really make it feel nostalgic and Shanice's "Saving Forever For You" was the winner for that but I decided it was not right for this. Maybe their actual first time, yes. Then it was a toss up between "Honey Whiskey" by Satica and "Take Me Away" by Sinead Harnett/EARTHGANG and the latter won given the situation. I'd recommend giving it a listen below (or any of the songs listed) to get the mood I was going for while writing the sex scene. I really thank you for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far. I just want to give the readers the best experience to my stories and how it was intended when I wrote it.

A loud commotion outside interrupts the moment and you both realize you need to get dressed before someone finds the both of you. He pulls out of you and you both quickly get yourselves together. You hop into the bathroom inside the bedroom to clean yourself up. When you walk out, you see Jax sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette with all his clothes and hair in place, like he had been sitting there this whole time and didn't move from his spot when you first walked in. He glances over to you and you're reminded of how his handsome charming face is something you miss so much.

"I should probably go before someone starts looking for either of us." You walk out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Jax grabs your hand and pulls you back to him.

"Hey." He stands up, cups your face and looks at you. "It's really good to see you again."

Suddenly you both hear the door knob rattling and then a knock following it.

"Jax, are you in there, honey?" You both hear Gemma on the other side of the door.

You both separate and smooth yourselves out and Jax walks over to open the door.

"Honey, what are you doing in here? Tara--" Gemma's facial expression shifts when she spots you. She looks at the both of you suspiciously. You both thought you were so slick when you were younger but if there was anyone who knew what you both were up to, it would be Gemma. Nothing slips past her. In fact, she’s always secretly hoped you two would get together. You were born into SAMCRO, making you MC royalty. The Princess of Charming.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in here too. I'm very sorry about Opie, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Gemma." You walk closer to the door and Gemma pulls you in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's your fiancé?" Gemma asks curiously.

"Fiancé?" Jax glances over at you.

"I came by myself this time," you answer. "We're kind of on a break." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm sorry to hear that too. Must be one hell of a break." Gemma's knowing eyes are boring a hole into you. "Lyla tells me you're staying a while?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna help her out with the kids for a week or so until she can figure it out. I know you and the club will be a big help, but with everything going on, I think her and the kids can use another familiar face."

"Family is important and I'm very happy to see you here." Gemma's eyes shift to Jax with the same knowing look she gave you. "Well, whenever you're ready, Tara's looking for you."

"Thanks, mom." Jax runs his hand over the top of his hair. Gemma glances at you both again once more before she walks away.

You start making your way out the door when Jax pulls you back in.

"You're engaged?" Jax asks with wide eyes.

"Was," you reply.

"Was it to that pretentious English prick you brought back with you last time?" Jax snarls.

"Ray is a good guy and he treats me really well. We're just going through a bit of a rough patch right now," you tell him. "Also, the last I heard, you're married with two children, Teller."

Jax just looks at you, knowing he has no right to be upset about you being with another man.

"And I believe your wife is looking for you," you say before walking away from him as you see your nephews and niece running up to you. "Hey guys!"

Jax takes a drag of his cigarette while he continues watching you as you kneel down to greet the kids.

A few days later...

The sun is beginning to set and Jax is at the clubhouse. Most of the people have already left. He needs some quiet and alone time after spending a few days earlier in the week not just watching his best friend get killed, but also saying goodbye and laying him to rest. He climbs up the ladder onto the roof of the clubhouse, one of his favorite places to think and reflect quietly while smoking. What he didn't expect to find is someone else had beat him to the spot.

"I didn't know you were here," Jax says as he walks over and sits next to them. "You've been avoiding me like the plague all week."

"I miss watching the sunset," you reply without looking at him.

"The sun doesn't set where you are?" Jax asks as he lights up a joint.

"It's not the same."

Jax takes a long drag and then offers it to you.

You look at it for a moment and form a small smile before taking it from him. The roof was also a place you both frequented in your youth to smoke pot, away from your parents and the adults. Eventually they figured out your secret spot, but it didn't stop you guys from coming back. You take a pull and hand it back to him.

"I also miss this. There is nothing like California-grown weed."

Jax takes a hit and blows out the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you ever miss me?" Jax looks over at you and passes the joint back to you.

You look over to him and squint an eye to prevent the sun from blinding you.

"Yeah, sometimes I do."

"Does your English weed taste like fucking tea and crumpets?" Jax jokes.

"Oh, I get the best shit there is over there. Trust me." You chuckle. "But... it's not home."

"So why don't you come home?" Jax looks back at you with the same squinty face.

You look at him for a moment deciding what you want to say. "You know, that's the reason why Ray and I put the engagement on hold. With everything happening here, I wanted to be closer to family. Figure my shit out." You take another drag and return the joint back to him.

"There's more than family that would love to see you back home too." Jax reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

"Jackson, what happened the other day, we both acted out of impulse. We were both just... vulnerable. I'm sorry if it gave the wrong impression."

Jax shakes his head, then takes another long pull of the joint. “Ope was like my moral compass, kept me grounded and always pointed me in the right direction, and now he's gone, because of me."

"Jackson, you can't--" You start shaking your head.

"You’re the closest thing I have left of Ope. I need you." Jax holds your hand.

"Jackson, in your heart, you always knew what was best. You don't need me." You push a loose chunk of his blonde hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear. "I know you're hurting, but I can't fill the void that Opie left. Nothing ever will. Just focus on what's important to you and you'll figure it out. You always did." You smile at him while caressing his cheek with your thumb. "You got this." He closes his eyes and leans in to your hand, soaking in your touch.

"You still have too much faith me." He turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, maybe. Besides, our boat sailed a long time ago," you add, pulling your hands away from him and looking away. Jax takes the last drag of the joint and tosses it off the roof.

"Maybe that boat can make one last stop before sailing away for good?" Jax gently grabs your chin and turns your head to him to look into his slightly droopy eyes.

Even all this time, it's still hard to not get lost in his baby blues. It's even harder with the perfect setting: the firey orange sky, the slight California breeze, the clubhouse rooftop. Maybe it's the weed, but it feels perfect in the moment. It's all taking you back to the summer when you were 14, when the only care in your worlds were right in front of each other. It's also the perfect setting for cruising around. Jax use to "borrow" one of the bikes from the clubhouse and take you on joyrides, basking in the sun while the wind hits your faces.

He slowly leans into you, and you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. Jax immediately responds and kisses back, his tongue slipping between your teeth. You can taste whiskey mixed with a faint linger of cigarettes and marijuana. Jax cradles your neck and pulls you in closer to him.

The loud roar of a motorcycle driving by and backfiring breaks you up. You both are brought back to reality that you are both still on a rooftop and a bit baked.

"Come on, let's get inside." Jax jerks his head towards the latch. Jax helps you down the ladder first and he follows behind. He quickly makes a sweep and doesn't see anyone except for a few guys at the bar with their back turned towards the both of you. Jax grabs your hand and leads you back into the spare bedroom you both were in earlier in the week. This definitely feels like you both are hormone-driven teenagers again, sneaking around the clubhouse.

Once Jax closes and locks the door, he turns his attention back to you but he stops in his tracks to really look at you. All of you. He never thought he'd ever be with you or see you like this again. What happened the other day was different. Like you said, it was a moment of weakness, an impulsive move on both of you because of shared pain.

This time, there is no urgency, there is no hurt, just the two of you re-living a moment the two of you wish you had the opportunity to experience over and over again. This time it's intentionally and purely for the most selfish reasons. He walks over to you and presses his lips onto yours, taking his time to actually taste and feel your soft lips on his. He pulls you in close to his body as his hands explore yours.

As the both of you continue to deliberately and slowly make out, Jax grabs your ass and presses himself against you, feeling his erection through your clothes. Jax pushes you backward towards the bed and you fall back when you feel the edge hit the back of your knees. He falls on top of you and expertly starts disrobing you while making out with you. In one quick swift, Jax pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in a satin black bra. He takes his time with you, starting with his lips on your neck, licking and kissing it, even nibbling at it. He's always wanted to leave a hickey on you, letting all the guys know you're taken. He then makes his way down to your collar bone, the top of your chest and then pulls down your bra on one side to reveal a nipple. He puts his mouth over it and swirls his tongue around it. Jax looks up to see your reaction and find you looking back biting your lower lip. He smirks and pulls down the other side of your bra and gives that nipple the same attention, making you arch against his mouth.

"Oh, Jackson," you moan.

He lets out a low growl.

"As much as I want to hear all the sexy noises coming out of your mouth while I'm pleasuring you, you gotta keep it quiet, darlin'." He kisses you while he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He then unbuttons your pants and backs himself off the bed. He slowly slides your pants and thong off your hips and down your legs. He licks his lips, excited to unwrap you like his present. You watch him as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels at your feet to help you with your boots and removes the rest of the clothes off your body. Suddenly feeling a bit exposed and shy like it's your first time with Jax, you keep your legs together. Jax places his hands on each of your knees and coaxes them open. He looks at his gift and licks his lips.

He dives in between your legs while looking up at you. His soft lips and warm wet tongue are licking and sucking you on all the right places and his beard tickling your inner thighs. That's new to you. He barely had peach fuzz in his teens. You feel him slip a finger inside you as his lips are pulling at your clit. Your breathing is getting shorter and more shallow. Jax inserts another long finger in you and finds your g-spot, rubbing circles on it.

"Jax, I..." Feeling your orgasm building, you are rendered speechless. Jax continues sucking and stroking you until you come undone into his mouth and on his fingers. He watches you squirm and thrash as you scream quietly in ecstasy. He doesn't stop until you are sensitive to his touch and you push him away. He wipes his beard and smiles at you, proud of his accomplishment. Jax surely still knows his way around your body.

You glance up to him as he gets to his feet. You watch him strip his clothes off, first the kutte, then his shirt pulled over his head. He kicks off his sneakers as he takes his time unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. You're glad he's taking his time though because it allows you to soak up and remember every second you have with this gorgeous man in front of you. He finally pulls his jeans and boxers down. Besides from the other day, the last time you and him were this intimate, the both of you were shorter, slimmer and clearly less experienced. Now you’re both grown, gained curves and muscles and are far more seasoned in the bedroom. He's also certainly grown in other places as well.

"Back up," Jax nods his head as he climbs onto the bed and hovers above you. You scoot back so your whole body is on the bed. Jax lays on top of you and smashes his lips against yours again, cradling your neck and grinding against you. You can feel the head of cock teasing your opening.

"Maybe we should use a condom this time," you tell him in between kisses.

"I'm not gonna lie. You did feel amazing without one the other day," Jax admits.

You and Jax had always been careful and taking the right steps when you were younger, using condoms at all times so that time was the first time you both had sex without one. Thankfully you are on birth control and both are STD-free, but you know you shouldn't take any chances.

You give him a knowing look.

"Anything for you, darlin'." Jax gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to put on a condom. He climbs back on top of you and looks at you as he caresses your face, still not believing that you're beneath him.

You gently grab his face with both hands and kiss him deeply. You then feel him slip inside you. All of him. You moan into his mouth and move with him, both of your hips slowly thrusting in unison. Jax grabs your hands and brings them above your head. He intertwines his fingers with yours and thrusts deeper into you. He watches you while you relish in the moment, as he pulls these lost emotions from you with each deliberate push. You wrap your legs around his waist and it encourages him to pick up the pace. You try to do the same and meet his rhythm.

Jax releases your hands and reaches for your legs behind him and brings them in front of him to rest on his shoulders, deepening his access to you. His hand reaches up to cradle your neck as he pounds into you. You then feel his thumb slide over the front of your throat. You start to feel his fingers tighten slightly around your neck. This is also new for you and Jax, but you're loving it. You can feel yourself getting closer to achieving another orgasm.

"Jackson..." you pant.

"Come for me, darlin'. I know you're there," Jax grunts.

You close your eyes and feel bliss as you let yourself go, letting your body take over you. After your orgasm subsides, you open your eyes and find Jax is no longer making love to you, but just smiling at you while still inside you. Now it's time for you to show him a few tricks you've learned.

"Get on your back," you tell him.

Without any protest from Jax, you both switch positions. Jax lies on his back with this hands behind his head, waiting for you to take the wheel. You straddle him and take your time sinking yourself onto him. You feel a lot more confident about being on top than you did when you were younger. You were shy and inexperienced. Now? You're going to ride him like the sexiest Harley you've ever had the privilege of sitting on. You slowly start riding him, rocking back and forth, grinding on him and teasing him. You enjoy the feeling of him filling you up to the hilt as you push down on him.

Jax looks up at you, watching you take charge and own his dick. He definitely notices you're a lot more comfortable in this position than he remembers. He reaches up and runs his hands over your breasts, massaging them and caressing your nipples as you enjoy the ride. He's certainly enjoying the view.

"You are still as fucking beautiful as the day I fell in love with you," Jax says, mesmerized by the image in front of him.

You smile and then lean back, placing your hands behind you on his thighs. Jax looks at you curiously. You roll your hips and start sliding up and down on him, giving him a clear view. He looks down and watches himself disappear in and out of you.

Jax groans and runs the palms of his hands over your thighs and settles on your hips. One of his hands then slides over between your legs and he starts rubbing circles on your clit with this thumb. You moan and gasp. You then lean forward, placing your hands on the pillow of each side of his head and lean down closer to him. You start bouncing your ass up and down as you look down on him, your hair forming a curtain around your faces. Jax grabs your ass and starts thrusting up to meet your movement. The only sounds echoing in the room are your pants and your bodies slapping against each other. Jax speeds up and watches your face as it distorts. He knows you've got another one inside you and you're very close.

"Come on, darlin'. Let it go." Jax coos.

You let out a loud moan as your legs shake and feel like a firecracker exploded inside of you. Jax clamps a hand over your mouth as he continues to drill inside.

"There you go, Y/N." Jax smiles watching you fall apart on top of him. He then swiftly flips you onto your back and roughly drives into you a few more times until he finally gets his own release.

As he slows down, you both look at each other, savoring the moment and then kiss softly.

Suddenly the door knob starts to rattle and the person on the other side is banging on the door.

"Yo, hurry it up! I gotta take a shit!" an unrecognizable voice shouts.

"Hey asshole, the bathroom is further down!" You both hear Chibs shouting. You place your hands over your mouth as you start to laugh.

"Shh!" Jax puts a finger over his pursed lips as he tries to suppress his own laughter.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

A/N: I never put notes at the end but I figured I'd let you enjoy the fic first before mentioning I currently don't have plans to expand this story. I might in the future, but not in the near future. I originally intended the first part to be short and be a one off, but I just kept writing and writing and there were so many places and opportunities to keep expanding. Same for part two. There were so many directions I could have gone. I had a bit of struggle with this for some reason. It's not quite exactly how I pictured it ending but it works for what it is.

If you haven’t read it yet, I wrote two short scenes titled “Carry Me Home” and “Joyride” which are like flashbacks in this universe.

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#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #au #reimagine

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twistedmusings · 3 years

Text

Vil Schoenheit: After VDC Results

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.”

“Are you going to walk me out?”

A/N: Only thing I learned from this Chapter is to not trust a Stan kids, because they will ruin the even for the rest of us.

Needless to say I have now officially began to simp for Vil, happy to find myself among you, Vil stans.

If you haven’t read part one, here it is!

Warnings: Chapter 5 spoilers, Lime soda (implied sexy times!) and de-stressing makeout session for Vil.

Vil had almost tried to kill someone today.

It seemed strange to say, since it was somebody’s life at stake, but he had come to terms that he had shown everybody in his team a side of himself he hoped they would never see.

He had shown you a side of himself he hoped you would never see.

After the ‘incident’, you two had barely talked. You weren’t necessarily avoiding him and he wasn’t avoiding you either. There were just a few moments before the VDC officially started and despite the pain in his body telling him to at least sit down, the need to make it to the end of the stage triumphed as he gave it his all out there.

Blood, sweat and tears. He had shed them all with no regrets.

So as he stood there, confetti raining down as the people cheered in the grand coliseum for Neige’s song and not his, he was slowly coming to terms with another realization.

That he wouldn’t let Rook participate in anything he ever did again…ever.

Two years. Two YEARS he had known this mysterious man and yet there was NOTHING that had tipped him off to Rook being a fan of Neige. Oh no, not just a fan.

An extremely devoted fan.

“...Roi de Neige...it really is such an honor!”

Neige’s laugh was still like metal against a chalkboard to Vil’s ears, smiling as he held Rook’s hand as the other waxed poetic about his performance. He had to turn away, tears still pricking at the corners of his eyes as he wiped them away with Rook’s handkerchief. His life was just one ironic twist after another, wasn’t it? And how frustrating, to be so close to standing first and to be betrayed by someone who he thought he could trust--!

“Stand proud and say that you are the fairest of them all, Vil! And I am sure that even the Magic Mirror wouldn’t be able to deny it!”

He chuckles as the fanfare continues, looking down at the offending piece of cloth before shaking his head and going over to his friend, handing him back the handkerchief.

“Go on, wipe your tears. It is your handkerchief after all.”

Rook’s surprised face was a sight for sore eyes as he dried his tears. “Thank you, Roi de Poison.”

“Hehe~ There is Vi-kun’s usual smile~!”

Enjoy it while it lasts, bastard. The moment we get back to Pomefiore you are going to regret not drinking that juice and melting from the inside out because I am going to make you WISH that you were nothing but a puddle of boiling goop after I am done with you, you son of a bit--

“Vil-senpai!”

His head turns around slowly, watching you run towards the stage before flashing your staff pass at the bodyguards trying to stop you, just like how he taught you. He clears his throat as he straightens himself out, turning his whole body towards you as the stadium quiets down around him.

Or maybe he was just paying attention to your voice only.

“One vote.” you give him a forced smile, “Just by one vote, huh?”

Vil points a thumb at Rook, “The guilty party is over there.”

You peek behind him, eyebrows shooting up when you see your other upperclassman holding the hand of the team’s supposed rival and silently crying.

“...that...the VDC really is full of surprises…”

You both look at each other before smiling as you share a giggle, your hand going to Vil’s arm and giving it a soft squeeze before letting go.

He doesn’t want to think about what he would have done if you had been the one deciding vote. For a brief moment while the announcement was being made he thought that you had been that person, the one person he wished to curse and hate. Vil tried to imagine it, imagine directing all his anger towards you and promising you that every single day you remained at Night Raven College would be hell because of what you had taken from him.

Would he have gone through with it? Who knows?

Vil is a lot more relieved about the fact that you placed your trust in the team he had created and voted for him.

“How annoying.”

“Truly.”

“There goes our heater money.”

“I agree--what?”

You turn to him, smiling as you gesture down to the hiccuping Grimm in your arms. He had tired himself out from crying and the headache that followed after had kept him glued to your arms.

“I know he said that he was going to buy tuna with the money we would have gotten but I was thinking of buying a heater for Ramshackle.” you pout, “You guys were all complaining about how cold it was before using magic to make the entire dorm room cold proof. For a brief moment my dream of having heated floors came true.”

Vil catches you staring at Neige, your stare not one of admiration but of clear frustration and annoyance.

“And it wasn’t like his song was that good. It was catchy. Catchy turns straight up annoying in a few days. Watch people complain about how they wish it wasn’t stuck in their heads all the time, I give it a week.”

Maybe it was the strong emotions he was feeling right now, or the fact that he had come to terms with another set of emotions that were directed towards you a long time ago but Vil immediately grabs your hand and holds it close to his heart, your eyes turning to look at him as he stares at you with fierce intensity.

He wanted you to feel it. Could you feel how fast his heart was beating?

“Potato, no, Prefect--”

Your eyes widened, it was the first time he had referred you with that title.

“I want you to know that I--”

“Vi-kun!”

The Pomefiore dorm leader can feel the vein in his head beginning to throb as he hears his rival’s voice, the Royal Sword Academy student smiling as he came up to him and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s sing together! If we all sing together I’m sure it would be a lot more fun!”

Neige smiles as he grabs Vil’s hand, quickly interlocking their fingers together as the other complains about the distance. His eyes meet yours before he grins and gives you a peace sign.

“I’m going to steal him away real quick, I hope you don’t mind!”

“Neige!”

You blink before smiling as you wave goodbye, hugging Grimm close to you as you watch Vil be dragged away by Neige to the center of the stage. The small familiar in your arms groans as he hears the music start up again. “Not agaaaaain. Make it stoooop. My tunaaaaaaa!”

With a giggle, you scratch the top of his head as he buries his face in the crook of your arm.

“Go back to sleep, Grimmy. Let’s go back home.”

The music blares behind you as you hum along to the song, bobbing your head to the beat as Vil’s voice comes through loud and clear despite the cheers and the fanfare.

“See you guys again!”

You smile and hug Grimm close, walking towards the exit of the Coliseum.

What a bummer. Guess you couldn’t work up the courage to tell him after all.

--------

“You guys got everything?”

“Ah wait!” Kalim rushes back into Ramshackle as Jalim pinches the bridge of his nose, “I forgot Vil’s face stuff!”

You smile at Jalim, “You always seem to have your hands full.”

“Isn’t that an understatement.” he smiles, “Are you that eager to get us out of here, Prefect?”

“Not at all. I’ll be really lonely once you guys leave.”

Jalim stares at you before looking back at the Ramshackle door, his actions making you laugh as you pat his back and head inside. Guy wasn’t used to people being that honest, was he? You smile when Kalim meets you at the bottom of the stairs, hugging you close and saying quick goodbyes as Jamil called out to him for the second time.

“There they go…”

You whistle a low tune as you head upstairs, letting out a huge sigh as you flop down on your bed.

It was the most perfect opportunity...and you blew it.

Vil had been living with you for almost a whole MONTH and you only managed to have a decent conversation with him maybe three times. And you weren’t going to count that awkward moment you two shared that night.

Probably the reason he didn’t talk to you at all after that!

He had been concentrating so hard to win this competition and all you needed to do was just give him some good words of support, not go off about how you thought he was the ‘fairest’ in all of the school! What kind of STUPID confession was that! You wanted to be smooth about it and maybe ask him if he wanted to come with you to the Monstro Lounge after all of this was over.

At least you had gotten some decent words through. It had been inspiring to watch him work. You didn’t really have an opinion on him when you two first met but watching him put his everything into this one competition made you want to put everything into finding a way back home.

And like always, feelings of admirations grew to something else.

Something annoying and unnecessary.

Vil probably saw right through you, the way you would wake up early to catch him humming in the showers as you brushed your teeth. No, he probably caught on when you complimented every single meal he made when it was his turn to cook. Or maybe he caught on when you straight up admitted that you thought he was the most beautiful person on campus.

You laugh as you sling your arm over your eyes.

“I’m so messy.”

A knock on your door bolts you up from your bed. You knew it wasn’t Grimm since he had taken dibs on the bath first and was probably enjoying the hot water you wish you could enjoy as well. Amethyst eyes meet yours as Vil stares at you, bag on the floor by his side as you two stare each other down.

“...should I just leave?”

“No!” you immediately get up and walk over to him, “Let me walk you out. It is the duty of a Prefect to see all the guests out, after all~”

“You only have one other member living in your dorm, potato.”

“Doesn’t mean I should ignore the title given to me. That’s what Riddle taught me.”

You make a move to walk out into the hallway but his arm stops you, blocking your way as your eyes look into the deep purple linen. It must be really soft to touch-- “Oi.”

Whoops, lost in thought again.

“You say something?”

Vil sighs and you were expecting the usual disappointed look but your heart nearly beat out of your chest when you saw him smile, your hands clenching into tight fists as you step back two steps.

“You were talking about responsibilities of a dorm leader, so I’m doing my responsibility as well. I’m thanking you.”

“Ha! Vil-senpai you shouldn’t be thanking me, it was the Headmaster’s decision after all.”

Even then he shouldn’t be thanking you, if anything you should be thanking him.

“So you’re just going to refuse my gratitude?” his fingers brush away some strands of your hair, “Did Riddle only teach you one thing?”

You try to count by 5’s in your head as your face heats up, how were you still standing up?

“Sorry. You’re right.” you take a deep breathe, “You’re welcome. I’m glad my dorm could be of some service.”

It was a good idea to leave out the ‘to you’, it would probably creep him out.

Silence hung heavy in the room as the two of you heard the clock tick away at the minutes, Vil’s arm still blocking your exit to the hallway.

“Uhm...Vil-senpai?”

“I want to have no regrets for this VDC, potato. As frustrating as it is...I gave it my all and I lost.”

You open your mouth to try and console him but he stops you with just a stare. “But I have no regrets on how I approached this. The method was perfect and the song was perfect. I even managed to shape some rough looking potatoes into decent enough students.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picking his words carefully.

“But I intend to leave this experience with no regrets whatsoever. Both on and off the stage.”

You tilt your head, “As in?”

The ticking of the clock stops for a moment as your chin is tilted upwards, starts up again when you feel a hand on your cheek pull you close and stops entirely when a pair of lips press against your own.

Your arms hang uselessly at your sides as Vil kisses you, his lips unmoving while the hand holding your cheek slithers all the way down to your waist. A shiver runs all the way from the soles of your feet to the top of your head, the sudden rush of warmth making you pull away.

Yet he selfishly clung to you.

“Are you going to walk me out, Prefect?”

The answer is quick as you wrap your arms around his neck, quickly pulling him down for another kiss. His heels click harshly against the wooden flooring as you two walk backwards and fall on your bed, the purple linen you had admired earlier now caressing your arms as you pull away for a quick breather.

“Vil--”

He takes advantage of your open mouth, tongue pushing inside and pressing against yours as he pulls your arms away from his neck and pins them to the bedding. You want to keep your eyes open, want to see Vil in ways you hoped nobody else had seen before. The circlet on his head probably disheveled from the rough tumble you two had, the eyeliner pressed so neatly against his eyelid, the way his fingers so delicately kept you from moving as his thumb caressed your wrist.

You can’t help but whine as he pulls away, trying to follow his lips but being kept in place by those hands on his. Vil watches you take deep gulps of air, his hands squeezing your wrists to keep you in place before moving away to take off the circle on top of his head as he laid it gingerly on the pillow next to your head.

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.”

Vil presses a kiss to your eyelid, moving down to your cheek and finally your chin as his fingers toy with the first button of your pajama shirt.

“Are you going to walk me out?”

He smiles when you hold out your arms open for him, your eyes begging him to not leave you alone.

Tongues meet before lips as Vil shrugs off his robe and makes himself comfortable in your arms, grabbing his magic pen and flicking his wrist in order to shut the door to your room and locking it.

Obviously he would have to leave before the raccoon was done with his bath, but he was intending to finish this VDC with no regrets.

So the little furball could wait.

--------

Omake:

“Oi!!! Why did you lock the door!”

“Grimm don’t come in here!”

“Hah? You know this is my room too!”

“I know but right now I’m-ah!-busy! I’m busy!”

“With what--!”

“Grimm I’m just busy! Ace left a bunch of his snacks down in the kitchen! I’ll let you take dibs on whatever you want!”

“....no take backsies?”

“No--oh Great Sevens--no take backsies!”

“Fgnaa! I’ll dig in then~!”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #pomefiore #vil x reader #twst mc #chapter 5 spoilers #available books

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

��Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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