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cassiefromhell · 6 months

Text

Lollipops

Post-War: Levi Ackerman x Reader

wc: 4.3k

warnings: SPOILERS. im so serious guys. SPOILERS. if you havent watched/read to the FINALE, do not progress. you've been warned. also theres a little tiny bit of gore.

a/n: this is self-defense writing to protect my sanity after the last ep. im so not okay with it being over. also requests are open, i'll write anything! also, this is written in flashbacks. but never fear, the flashbacks are separated from the present by dividers, so you'll know when it switches.

“You two are like a fairytale couple,” a young girl giggles, hugging a pink-covered book to her chest. “Like a damsel and her prince.”

You smile, pulling a lollipop out of your box — and then another, handing them to her. “Take two for sweet-talking me. But remember that true love isn’t perfect by any means.”

She grins, nods, and takes her candy, sprinting off into an old woman’s arms. You sigh softly, looking up to see that the line of children coming to receive candy from Paridian heroes is momentarily empty.

“Not perfect, huh?” Levi asks from beside you, shifting in his chair.

You roll your eyes, gently flicking the side of his head. You crouch down to be on his level. “You’re saying that we had a fairytale romance? That you swept me off my feet and carried me away from danger?”

“Yes. I would. Now get your ass up, I don’t need you to get down for me,” he scowls, his eyes flicking over your kneeling form.

“I would get down on my knees for you anyti—”

“Up.”

You grin, but listen to him and stand up, picking up your box once more. “Fairytale, huh? So what are you, the savior?”

“I’d say it’s even. Although, I remember saving your ass much more often than you saved mine.”

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “Name a time!”

“Get your ass up, scout!”

You groan, shoving yourself up onto your elbows. “Just a sec,” you manage between heavy breaths, coughing and coughing.

Hoofbeats approach and you whimper, knowing that if that’s the captain you think it is, you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime.

“Why, exactly, are you laying in the dust?” Captain Levi Ackerman asks, tone cold and voice sharp as a knife. “You’re a transfer, not a cadet. From the MP’s, even. I expected better.”

“I’m recovering from an injury, Captain,” you wheeze out, pressing a hand to your side and shoving yourself up onto your knees. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You’d better be. Now, up. On your feet, or be left behind.”

You pull one foot under you, then the other, and nearly collapse. His arm shoots out to grab your bicep, effectively keeping you up as your side screams in protest, ribs aching and tears springing to your eyes.

“What kind of an injury?” he asks, his grip tightening. “Why on earth would you switch to the Survey Corps while injured?”

“Ribs,” you hiss, gripping your side. The doctors have said that nearly all your ribs on your right side are either bruised, fractured, or completely broken. “And I had no choice. I had to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, but slowly releases you, making sure you’re not going to fall over the second he lets go. “You’re in no condition to be training, and I don’t need you getting worse. I have no interest in crippled soldiers. Go inside and get yourself assigned to kitchen duty for the next two weeks, on Ackerman’s orders.”

Your eyes slowly shift up from the ground to him, and you get your first good look at him.

And holy shit, the rumors of Humanity’s Strongest did not mention how mouth-wateringly attractive he is.

You give the dumbest nod you’ve ever given and turn on your heel. You hobble your way inside, and then immediately lean against a cold, stone wall, repeating to yourself in your head over and over again:

We are not falling for a captain.

You open and close your mouth, then shrug. “Okay, but of course you were going to save my ass a lot while I was training. I’m sure it got better once I was a captain.”

“Did it, though?”

You elbow him, scowling. A smirk dances on his lips.

A woman grinning ear-to-ear starts your way, and you narrow your eyes. “She’s too old for candy.”

“Reporter,” Levi grumbles, looking down into his box, as if not making eye contact will stop her from approaching.

“Hi!” She shouts, giving a big wave. “I was hoping to ask you two a quick few questions, while you’re not too busy.”

“We’re quite busy,” Levi drones.

“Ah! I had heard about that grumpy attitude!” The reporter laughs, then looks at you. “And you must be his sunshine!”

You scratch the back of your neck, shrugging. “Something like that.”

The reporter whips out a pen and paper. “Now, all sources say that tog two have been married for quite some time, but nothing ever tells me when you two met, or how! Do tell.”

“We met in the service,” you start, rubbing your chin. “I had just transferred to the military police, so I was starting fresh in the Survey Corps.”

She quirks a brow. “Why did you transfer?”

The air simply won’t come to your lungs. You can’t breathe. The night sky doesn’t help, the fresh cool air is only suffocating you more.

You drop to the grass in the courtyard, one hand on your healing side and the other around your throat. Tears pour down your face, and you cough, and cough, and cough, and gasp.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. You can still remember what really happened, his hand around your neck, boot in your side, the bruises along each ridge of your spine from being tossed into a wall.

Your ribs may have been almost fully healed now, after two months being a Scout, but you still can feel each kick he gave you just for telling him no.

“Breathe.”

You sputter, looking up to see Captain Levi kneeling in front of you. He grips your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Breathe, come on. Take a deep breath.”

You try, you really do, but you only end up sobbing harder. Your hands clench the grass.

He sighs heavily, scooting over to your side and awkwardly patting your back. “Breathe.”

You manage to slow your breathing, and take a few good deep breaths. Then you immediately stumble to your feet. “…Sorry. I’ll head back now.”

His hand is around your wrist before you can even register that he’s gotten up. “Why are you out here so late, crying in the damn courtyard?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream, you murmur, tugging your hand away from him and heading back inside.

You feel assessing eyes on your back as you walk, and you can’t help but look down at your hand, that hand that you wore a ring on for a year and a half.

You’ve fallen silent, chewing your lip and looking off to the side. The reporter tilts her head, raising a brow.

“She just needed a fresh start,” Levi answers for you, placing a hand on your hip for reassurance. “And that’s what she got.”

She accepts that answer, writing down the words. “Now, how did you two end up together? Was it live at first sight?”

Levi scoffs. “Far from it.”

You glare at him. “Well, I liked you.”

“No, you hated me. You just wanted to fuck.”

“Thank you, Hange,” you grin, folding up the card again and tucking it back into the envelope, which reads ‘Congrats, new Captain!’. “I really appreciate it.”

A year in the Survey Corps flew by fast, and you had shown immense skill in the craft, therefore earning the title of Captain of your very own squad.

But your skills weren’t the only thing that had developed. You and Levi tolerated each other now, even if he thought you were loud and chaotic and you thought he was grumpy and sad, like a lonely old man.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He was handsome, and every once in a while you’d say something that would make his mouth tilt up, and… that mouth. It would be the death of you.

Hange heads out, leaving you alone in your room for the first time in hours. Everybody had been in and out, offering congratulations and words of advice.

You sink back onto your bed, yawning. It’s been a long day, and now you just want to sleep—

But a knocking comes on your door, and in walks Levi.

“I could have been naked,” you grin as he strides over, dumping a pile of paperwork on your desk.

“Captains have more paperwork than everybody else. I’ve been assigned to show you how to fill it out.”

“I bet you were hoping I was naked” you tease, but get up anyway, running a hand down your face as you stand next to him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re boring.”

“Boring? Really?”

“Yeah.”

There is a short silence, with Levi sorting through the papers. And suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that you are in your bedroom, alone, with Levi Ackerman.

And apparently he’s aware of it too, because he gives you a look.

And then you jump on him.

The reporter laughs and scratches a few things down on her pad of paper, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “And what year was this?”

“We met in 846, and then started seeing each other romantically in 847,” you explain. You open a lollipop and stick it in your mouth.

The reporter only stares at you, a brow lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Eleven years ago,” Levi says, and then she nods and writes it down.

“What—”

“Different years,” Levi murmurs, shaking his head. “They’re in the damn 1900’s, remember.”

You flush, blood rushing to your ears and cheeks. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with the rest of the world, you always forget that years are different and you can take a plane somewhere and getting a papercut doesn’t mean you might die of sepsis.

For you, it’s still 858.

“Did you two personally know Eren Jaeger?”

You crouch by the bars, tilting your head as you examine him. Just a child. Skinny. He couldn’t hurt a fly.

“This is the titan child?” You ask, squinting. “He’s, what, fifteen?”

“Yes. Please step back,” Levi says. “You don’t need to be that close.”

“He’s like a fleck of dirt in a crop field. I need to be this close to see him. Are you sure he really—“

The chains on his arms rattle, and you skitter back, slamming into the wall beside Levi.

“Careful,” he scowls, brushing dirt off of your shoulder.

“What… happened?” The boy asks, rubbing his eyes.

Erwin launches into a full explanation, and by the time he’s done the boy looks completely lost.

“You’re… the commander of the Survey Corps,” he looks at Erwin, “…And Captain Levi, and Captain {Y/N}… where am I?”

“A dungeon—”

Erwin keeps speaking, but a thump near the staircase catches your attention. You stride off, past the MP guards, and peek around the corner.

There, struggling against a guard, is the young girl that you’ve been told is Mikasa.

You scowl, shutting the door behind yourself and storming up to her.

“Calm down,” you whisper, taking both her wrists in one hand and pushing her up against a wall. “Do you realize what you’re risking here?”

“You don’t understand, I need to see him—”

“Shut up. You’re risking his freedom by coming this close. Go back upstairs.”

She glares at you, damn near baring her teeth. But you hold firm, and she slowly nods.

“Good, now go.”

You release her, and with one final glance over her shoulder, she trudges up the stairs.

You run a hand through your hair, thinking to yourself: these new scouts are going to be an issue, aren’t they?

“Yes,” you say, nodding. “We knew all of the kids.”

“All of them?” she asks, furiously scratching down your words.

“We were both captains when Eren’s year entered the corps — we trained them. Of course we knew them all.”

“On my squad,” you read off of your paper, speaking to the large crowd in front of you — all the scouts that will be on the next expedition. “…I am pulling in an extra scout. Mikasa Ackerman will join me in the center ranks.”

Whispers run through the crowd, and you step off of the stage, taking your spot next to Levi in the captains line. Erwin picks up a speech, talking about the squad formations.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn, and your eyes widen as you’re met with your favorite chaos trio: Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

“Get into your formation,” you hiss.

“But, here’s the thing,” Jean whispers. “I’ve been really great during training. What do I have to do to get on your squad?”

“Jean!” you narrow your eyes. “You are not getting on my squad.”

“I would bring you food every day,” Sasha pleads, putting her hands out in a prayer position. “Please! We’d be the best squad ever.”

You actually pause to consider that for the food, but Levi stomps on your foot. “Ow— Uhm, no. Now return to formation or I’ll bump you down a squad.”

They skitter off, moving through the crowd. You just hope that they’ll go to the right place this time.

You sigh, facing forward again. You’ve already heard everything that Erwin has to say, so this is all repeat to you.

You brush your hand against Levi’s, and his pinky touches yours. You lock them together, resisting the urge to just lean into his warmth.

Pinkies locked, you wait out the rest of the assembly.

“Would you say you were close with any of them?”

Levi shrugs. “They respected me. They loved her.”

“Oh, they loved you too,” you grin, patting his shoulder. “Loved you enough for Historia to smack you the second she was legally allowed to.”

“Have there been any hardships?” The reporter cuts in.

You pause. Levi pauses.

“Of course,” he murmurs, voice softer now. He brushes his fingertips against your thigh.

As soon as you make it in through the gate, Levi is at your side, pulling his horse up next to yours.

“Let me look,” he murmurs, beckoning with his hand.

You shake your head, cradling your messily bandaged hand to your chest. “No.”

“{Y/N}. Let me look,” his voice is more stern now.

You know the damage. You found a cloaked figure up high in the trees, you went for the attack, and they were faster than you. It was a clean cut. Your index and middle fingers are gone, as well as a chunk of your thumb.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I can’t take it off ‘till I reach the medics,” you whisper back, turning away from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

But he doesn’t leave. He stays by your side, silently. He rides with you all the way to the scout headquarters, silently. He walks with you to the medics, without a single word.

The medics take one look at you, and, having heard that you were coming in, usher you into a private room.

There are three medics with you, which means they consider your injury a serious one.

The lead medic closes the door, and then turns to you with a pitiful smile. “Let’s take a look, alright captain?”

You cradle your hand closer to your chest. You feel like a child, not wanting to accept what’s happened. But it’s… your hand… this is forever.

Levi gently touches your arm. “You don’t have to look.”

You can’t remember the last time Levi was so soft with you. You’ve been with him for years by now, but he’s just not a soft person.

Nevertheless, he pulls your face against his shoulder, stroking your hair. He carefully pulls your wrapped hand away from you, holding it out for the medics.

You feel it immediately when they start pulling the bandages off, and you bury your face into Levi’s shirt, whimpering.

“You’re alright. They’ve almost got it off,” he murmurs, holding your face against his chest.

The wrapping falls away, and there’s a soft gasp from one of the medics, followed by Levi stiffening.

“Is it bad?” you moan, crying out as someone prods something painful.

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No.”

“It’s not good. But it’s a clean cut, so they’re going to clean it and stitch it up for you. You’ll be fine.”

You fist his shirt. “…Please don’t go.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I won’t. I won’t leave your side.”

The next thing you know, they’ve stuck your hand in alcohol, and you’re screaming.

You tuck your half-hand into your pocket, out of the reporter’s watchful gaze.

“But you two are married, correct?”

Levi nods. “Yes.”

“When were you married?”

You look to Levi, smiling softly. “Well, twice. Once in Paradis, and they don’t acknowledge Paridian marriage licenses here, so we did it all over again a couple years ago.”

“When was the first time?”

Your hand has become a focus for you.

Just as you lay in bed now, holding your two and a half fingers above your head. The stitches have been taken out, leaving you with pinky and ring fingers, two little nubs cut below the first knuckle, and half of a thumb. It’s still healing, but this is pretty much what your hand will look like. Forever. Till the day you finally croak.

The door swings open, and you immediately feel Levi’s cold, calculating gaze. “Are you picking at it again?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Just looking. Y’know, at least I still have a ring finger.”

“Why does that matter?” He asks. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sits on the bed beside you and starts on his boots.

“So one day I could wear a wedding ring.”

He pauses. You pause, realizing what just came out of your mouth.

He turns to face you, leaving one boot on and the other half off. “You’re interested in marriage.”

Suddenly your face feels hot. “…Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really what you want?”

You nod, chewing your lip.

“Then marry me.” His face stays completely blank.

You sit up slowly, eyes wide. “You— you wanna marry me?”

“You already know that I love you. If you want marriage, it’s only logical that—”

You cut him off by tackling him, sending the both of you tumbling off the bed. Levi twists so that he’ll hit the ground and you’re just land on him, but you have no time to ask if he’s okay between all the kisses you’re showering across his face.

He scoffs. “Enough, woman.”

“You wanna be stuck with me!? Really?!” You grin, sitting up to be straddling his waist.

“I guess so.”

You throw your arms over your head, starting to sing to yourself. “You looooove me, you wanna maaaarry me, I’m gettin’ maaaarried,” you snap to your own little beat, dancing on his waist.

You look down at him, beaming, just to find him watching you with soft gray eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

The reporter smiles and nods, then looks over her notes. “Well, I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you two be.”

Levi looks quite ready to be done, so you speak up. “Just make it quick.”

She nods, looking up at you one last time. “Did everyone else know you two were together?”

You sigh, reaching behind you and pulling your hair out of its ponytail. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to refill your ODM fuel for tomorrow and go to bed.

You approach the supply closet, but pause when you hear voices. You peer in, eyes widening at the sight.

Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Bertholdt all crowd around a table, coins in piles. But there are no cards. No game.

“Listen,” Connie says, throwing up his hands. “It’s just gotta be someone in the Survey Corps. There’s no way it’s not!”

“But wouldn’t we know if it was?” Jean adds, rubbing his chin. “There aren’t too many options.”

“Miche?” Mikasa proposes, spinning a coin in her fingers.

“What? No,” Eren scoffs. “Absolutely not. Armin, what do you think?”

Armin lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I already lost my money on the bet that Captain {Y/N} would stay single. I thought she was the type to not want or need a man.”

Ah. So they’re betting… on my love life!?

“Well, she’s wearing a ring, that’s for sure…” Sasha rubs her chin. “What if it’s Levi?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Everyone in the room erupts into laughter.

“Ha! Her and Levi? When pigs fly!” Eren laughs, banging his fist on the table.

“You’re such an idiot,” Connie grins, shoving Sasha. “I’d say she’s a lesbian before that!”

You smirk and roll your eyes, walking away from the room. You just know that they’re gonna be knocked off their feet when they find out.

“No, no, it took them quite a while to find out,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They couldn’t have guessed it if they’d put all their little brains together — and believe me, they did.”

“So, how did they find out?”

“Alrighty, Armin,” you sigh, running a hand over your head. “Let’s get this transformation done. The area is cleared for miles, so just give me a few minutes to get out of dodge, and you’ll get the smoke signal to go ahead.”

He nods, chewing his lip.

“Hey,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

With that done, you turn, shooting your grappling hooks into a tree and soaring off into the forest.

After a few minutes, you’re damn near in the safe zone.

Near.

And then the sky lights up like a Christmas tree.

As expected, a massive explosion sounds behind you, and your ears immediately start to ring. More concerning, however, is the shrapnel made of trees and dirt and rocks flying your way.

You shriek, turning forward once more and zipping your way through the trees. Except, you have to hold your left sword in a weird way because of your hand, and then a gush of wind hits you and—

The branch you’re swinging from snaps, and you’re sent tumbling to the ground, unable to right yourself.

The grass gets nearer and nearer, and you fumble with your swords. But you won’t make it. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, and accept your fate—

Until you collide with Levi’s chest, and his arms are around you, and you’re zipping towards the safe zone.

“Holy shit,” you wheeze, coughing on stirred up dust. You grip his shoulders, shaking from all of the adrenaline rushing through you.

You’re back in the group with the others in no time, and Levi immediately puts you on the ground. But you don’t get a hug and a ‘thank god you’re alive.’ No, Levi puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes you.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses, gripping your jaw with one hand. “I’ve told you to hold your swords upside down like I do, so this wouldn’t happen. You almost died, and all because of your idiocy—”

“Levi—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You cannot go dying on me, you hear me? I will not lose you.”

You bite your lip, putting a hand on his chest. “Levi…”

“You are such a fucking idiot. I cannot believe I married someone who would risk her own life like that. You need to value yourself, damn it! You cannot leave me here alone—”

You shut him up with a kiss, rooting your hand in his hair. He kisses you back without hesitation, his hands flying to your waist.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you murmur, pulling away. “You saved me. You caught me. And I’m confident that you always will.”

His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering, and he opens his mouth, but a voice from the right interrupts whatever he had planned to say.

“Did I, uh… miss a chapter?” Jean asks.

You look over to find almost all of Eren’s friend group standing there, dumbfounded. Hange sits up in a tree, grinning ear to ear, but they’ve known about you two for years.

You grin, shaking your head. “The money goes to Sasha.”

“AND YOU ALL CALLED ME STUPID!” Sasha shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air.

“That’s all I need,” the reporter nods, and closes her notebook, tucking away her pen. “Nice meeting you two, heroes.”

She leaves with a wink, and just in time, because a little refugee boy has approached, hands behind his back.

You give him a soft smile, kneeling to be on his level. “Would you like a lollipop?”

The boy nods, giving a shy smile.

Levi reaches into his box, holding out a blue lollipop. He gives the child his softest smile, and in that smile you see it all.

You see the man that saved your ass more times than you can count. The man who presses a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. The man who blushes when you run your hands down his chest. The man who doesn’t give anyone that soft smile of his, except for on very rare occasions.

Your man.

The center of your universe.

The boy takes his lollipop, bows at the waist, and then skitters off with a mumbled ‘thank you.’

You watch him go, and then you turn back, met with Levi, holding out a lollipop to you.

You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles and take it, giving him your own soft smile. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too, brat,” he chuckles, turning back to the box of candy.

And you remember the nights you spent eating sweets he brought back for you from town.

You remember every night with him.

Because Levi is your world. Your one and only.

And he always will be, from now until the end of time.

@jeannineee be proud of me bitch <3

#fanfiction #aot #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #second person #2nd person pov #post war aot #cassiefromhell

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octoberclidan · 2 months

Text

Needing You

Request: With absolutely no pressure, could I request some comfort for our sweet (and vulnerable) Dean? Something very soft and gentle? 💚

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

Dean didn't wait for either Sam or [Y/N]. As soon as he'd turned off the engine, he was out of the car and marching towards their motel room. He didn't take his bag, he didn't look at either of them, he didn't say anything, he just left. Everything that could've gone wrong on the hunt, had gone wrong. Nothing about their day had gone well. It had been a cold, dark, rainy day since the moment they'd woken up. Dean had been captured by a witch, his absolute least favourite thing to hunt, and it had taken Sam and [Y/N] all day to find him. While he'd been magically held against a wall in the witch's home, he watched two of her victims die. He couldn't physically do anything, and there was nothing he could say to stop her. He was to be her third victim, but right before she cut his neck, Sam had burst into the room and the witch disappeared. Dean had fallen to the ground, and had pushed both Sam and [Y/N] away when they tried to help him up.

[Y/N]'s view of Dean marching to their motel room was obscured by the raindrops rolling down the car's window. She hadn't tried to talk to him the entire ride back; she knew better after Dean had snapped at Sam just for clearing his throat. She sighed, and was about to open her door when Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. "He'll be okay. He'll punch something, get drunk, and sleep it off. We'll be back on the hunt in the morning". He cringed slightly when he heard the door to their room slam. "I think we should probably see about getting a second room and giving him some space tonight".

"Do you think he'll be okay on his own? I've seen him beating himself up after hunts before, but I've never seen him like this", she said. [Y/N] had a deep level of concern and care for Dean. She loved both Winchesters, she'd do anything for either of them, and she hated seeing them upset. Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"He won't let himself lose control, we still have to find the witch. He'll be good by the morning". He finally opened his door, the wind blowing some rain into the car. "Wait here until I get us a room, I'll be back in a few minutes". [Y/N] watched as he pulled his jacket up over his head and quickly got out of the car, closing his door behind him and jogging over to the motel's reception. She felt a bit uneasy leaving Dean alone when he was probably in there breaking something and hating himself, but she knew that no one knew him and what he needed better than Sam.

The door to the reception opened and it caught her eyes, she saw Sam jogging back to the car. She grabbed her bag from beside her as Sam opened up the trunk to grab his own, and they quickly ran through the parking lot to get to their new room, which happened to be the one right next to Dean's. Sam opened the door and ushered [Y/N] inside, and she shivered as droplets of rain water fell from her hair. "You wanna take the first shower?" Sam asked as he put his bag down on the desk beside the window, and [Y/N] nodded.

"Yeah, I'll make it quick", she said and made her way into the bathroom, taking her bag with her. The water wasn't exactly hot, but it did warm her up a little bit. She couldn't keep her thoughts from wondering to Dean, thinking about what must be going through his head and what he was up to in the other room. She began to grow even more worried as she turned off the shower and started to pull on the old comfortable clothes she kept for sleeping in; one of Dean's old band t-shirts, and some very well worn sweatpants. What if he decided to go to a bar? Dean had no issues with driving after drinking on an ordinary day, but what if he tried to drive home after drinking too much in the dark and rain?

Once she was dressed, she opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds and looked up at her as she walked out. "Shower's all yours, just a warning though, the water's not hot", she said as she made her way over to the other bed.

"Noted", Sam sighed as he pushed himself off the bed to go get his clothes and toiletries. "Are you okay?" He asked before he went in.

"Yeah, just worried I guess", she shrugged. He nodded in understanding as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She heard the shower turn on, and she decided to pull out her journal to make notes on the hunt. She'd only just sat down on a bed and opened her journal when she heard a crash behind her head, and she spun around on the bed to look at the wall behind her. A few seconds later, and there was a bang on the wall, shaking it along with her bed frame. Dean. Without stopping to think, she tossed her journal down beside her and shot out of bed. She scribbled down a quick note for Sam on a little post-it that was on the desk, and headed straight out of the room.

Although the corridor outside the room had a cover over it, the floor was still wet from the rain being blown onto it from the wind. The wind and rain hit her immediately and she ran to the next door, banging on it and hoping Dean wouldn't take too long to let her in, hoping he hadn't injured himself, hoping he could let her in. When ten seconds went by without any answer, she banged on the door again. "Damnit Dean, let me in! I'm getting soaked out here!" She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms as she stood there being attacked by the weather, her clothes having no waterproof capabilities.

The door opened slightly and she looked up to find a red-eyed Dean. He looked her up and down before sighing and opening the door wide enough to let her in. She slipped inside and kept her arms around herself as she waited for him to close the door and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" He mumbled as he kept his head down and walked past her to his bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and she noticed that his knuckles were bloody as he held his hands on his lap.

"Will you let me look at those?" She asked, walking over to him. He pulled his hands back as she reached down for them, but she insisted. He didn't put up a fight as she held his hands in hers and lifted them up to look at them. "I'm going to clean them and wrap them".

"They're fine".

"Dean", she sighed. "They're not fine, and you're not fine either. You can talk about it with me if you want to, or you can sit there in silence, but either way, I'm taking care of these hands". She gently squeezed them before placing them back in his lap. She looked around the room before remembering that Dean hadn't taken his bag in from the car. "Just... wait here, don't move, I'll be back in less than a minute". He didn't say anything and he didn't look up at her as she quickly left the room.

She ran through the rain back to the other room and let herself in to find Sam sitting on his bed reading through a book. "How is he?" He asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"He's Dean", she sighed, looking through her bag for her first aid kit.

"You gonna bring a coat this time?" He asked as she went to open the door again. She paused and nodded.

"Good idea", she chuckled as she grabbed her jacket, holding it over her head. "I'm not sure when I'll be back... if I can get him to open up maybe I'll just stay with him, are you good here?"

"Good luck, yeah I'm fine, just let me know if you need anything", he smiled at her. He knew Dean was in safe hands with [Y/N]. Although he knew Dean better than anyone, he also knew that if anyone could get him to open up and hate himself a little less, it would be her.

Dean was waiting for [Y/N] this time with the door open, not wanting her to stand out in the rain any longer than needed. She smiled at him in thanks as he held the door open for her, and he caught himself smiling back. He could feel his anger start to dissipate, and he cursed her in his mind for having that effect on him. He felt like he deserved to feel bad, he felt like he didn't deserve to be smiling. "Okay, sit on the bed so I can clean those hands up", she said as she grabbed a chair.

"I can do it myself".

"No you can't, I've seen you doing it yourself and you're shit at it, now sit", she placed the first aid kit down on the bed and put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to shake his head and follow her instructions like he always ended up doing. He sat down and she pulled the chair closer so she could sit opposite him, their knees touching. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled out an antiseptic wipe to start to clean it. He hissed at the initial sting, but it soon went away. She held his hand in one hand, stroking her thumb up and down soothingly, while she wiped his knuckles with her other. She lifted his hand closer to her face to inspect it, and then threw the wipe away and took out some gauze.

"It's not bad enough to need that stuff", Dean protested, but one glare from her and he stopped, letting her gently wrap his hand. She placed it on his lap as he took his other hand, which wasn't as bad, but he knew she'd insist on wrapping it too anyway. He looked into her face as she worked on his second hand, noticing how she stuck her tongue out slightly between her teeth in concentration. He'd never known anyone so beautiful, inside and out, and he didn't know how he was lucky enough to have her as a constant in his life.

"There, all done", she smiled as she let go of his hand and packed away her supplies. When she looked back at Dean, he was looking down at his hands, and a tear fell from his eye to darken a little spot on his bandage. "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours?" She asked, gently covering his hand with hers. He shook his head and sniffed, looking away from her. "Come on, talk to me, I'm right here", she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, slowly turning his face back to her.

"I was useless today", he said.

"Dean-", she sighed but he cut her off and took his hand back from her, standing up abruptly and forcing her back a little so he could walk away. She stared at him as he started to pace up and down the room. "Dean-", she tried again, but he stopped and glared at her through teary eyes.

"Don't 'Dean' me, okay? I fucked up. I let my guard down, got caught by a fucking witch and watched two people die, knowing I couldn't do shit but wait to be rescued. I'm supposed to save people, I'm not supposed to need saving".

"Dean, how many times have you saved me? Or Sam? Does that make either of us less of a hunter? Does that make either of useless?"

"No, but it's different".

"How exactly is it different? Why can't Dean Winchester need saving sometimes? You're not invincible Dean, you're human. Shit happens. Sometimes everyone needs a little saving. Sometimes you can't save everyone, no matter how good you are". She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him. He turned his face away from her, but she reached up tentatively to put her hand on his cheek. He didn't resist when she turned his face to look down at her, and once he looked into her eyes, he broke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck as he started to cry quietly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood there in his embrace, letting him get his emotions out. She was almost afraid to make any movement or say anything, in case it pulled him out of his vulnerability, but after a few minutes she leaned back slightly and looked up at him.

He blinked through his tears and sniffed, then frowned at her. "You're damp", he mumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"Yeah, it's raining".

"I'm sorry".

"For what?" She asked, rubbing his back gently.

"Being like this", he shrugged, "crying and punching things and..." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of his train of thought.

"And what?" She prompted him, tilting her head in curiosity. He paused in contemplation for a moment, glancing between her eyes, feeling comfort when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him. His hands fell to her waist and he held her firmly, pulling her back in closer to his chest.

"And needing you".

He was finally opening up to her, and she sighed in relief, knowing this meant he'd be okay. "I will always be here for you, Dean", she said.

"Is it okay?" He asked, looking down at her, his face suddenly full of worry. "Is it okay that I need you?"

"Dean", she said, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. "We all need each other. Sam and I need you, just like you and I need Sam".

"Like Sam and I need you", he nodded, and his hands left her waist to hold her arms, gently squeezing them as if to confirm to himself that she was real, and that she was standing in front of him in that moment. "You're shivering", he noted, "I'll get you some dry clothes". He pulled away from her and went to his bag, routing around and pulling out one of his clean flannels and a pair of sweatpants and handing them to her. "Can you... I mean", he cleared his throat nervously. "If you want to, you can stay in this room tonight. I don't think you should go back out into the rain".

"Is it okay with you if I stay here?" She smiled back at him.

"Yes", he said quickly. "I need you tonight... just uh, you make me feel calm, it's like I struggle to feel angry around you", he chuckled softly.

"You have a similar effect on me".

"Really?"

"Dean, your hugs make everything better".

"Come here", he reached his arm out to her and she put the clothes down onto the bed before going to him and being engulfed in his arms again. He held her tightly this time and she smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "You're still damp", he chuckled, and she felt the vibrations from his chest on the side of her face.

"I don't care", she squeezed him back and closed her eyes, hoping they'd somehow end up sharing a bed so she could stay in his arms for the night. She knew he was going to be okay, and that's all she needed in that moment.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats

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neverinadream · 5 months

Text

Garden Of Eden (Part One)

Next Part

Summary: Some things were not meant to be touched and to Quinn Y/N was meant to be untouchable.

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader // Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Mountain Peaks - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, mild smut in parts of this fic, uses of the she/her pronoun, best friend's older brother!quinn, suggestive language...i guess, soft dom!quinn, pet names (baby, cutie...), grinding/dry humping, nipple play, not edited

Notes: this is just a little opening number, setting the stage for what is or isn't about to come, and yes, this is a very stereotypical trope but i personally love a best friend's older brother trope. anyway, i promise the next part will be longer and have more a flow to it. this is my first time writing for quinn or any nhl player but feedback would be appreciated

“Okay, but would you rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes?” The brunette's dishevelled hair tickles Y/N's face, the pair of them sharing the same pillow, squished together in the centre of her bed, as he tucks his head into the crook of her neck. He ignores her question, sneaking a kiss to her warm skin, the left side of his mouth smirking against her when her breath catches. “Q,” she squirms, nudging his side, “come on.”

He chuckles, rolling his head back onto his half of the pillow. “I don't know,” he shrugs, resting his arm under his head, “how big are they?”

“How big?”

“The dicks,” he replies, looking away from the ceiling to look at her, “how big are the dicks?”

She takes a second to mull it over, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Let's say they're average size.” Quinn stays quiet. “Like…five inches,” Y/N elaborates, measuring the size with her hands, “something like this.” She peers at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don't know what five inches looks like?”

“I know-” He cuts himself off with a sigh, eyes closing shut as it passes his lips. “I guess I'll go with dicks for toes - much easier to hide.”

Y/N rolls onto her side, curling her arms around his bicep. He hums at this and reaches out for her t-shirt, scrunching the dark material between his fingers. “Don't wanna caress someone's face with your dick fingers?” She tucks her head, forehead pressed against the curve of his shoulder. “Doesn't that sound romantic?” His body vibrates as he chuckles. “Just flaccid tips on cheeks.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Quinn grimaces, having to disagree with her.

“Takes toe sucking to a whole new level.”

“What?!” He laughs out of shock. “You did not just say that!”

She lifts her head, meeting his gaze, her lips parted with a large, toothy grin. “C'mon, just think about it-”

“I don't want to think about it,” he still laughs, shaking his head. His cheeks were flushed with a light sprinkle of a pink blush, that only darkens as his stomach growls. “What are they doing? Buying the whole store?” He murmurs to himself, reaching for his phone, checking to see how long it had been since his brothers had left. “How much longer do you think they'll be?”

“Why?” She let go of his arm, missing the way his mouth dropped into a frown as she pulled away from him. One leg swings over his hips, her knees resting on either side, sinking into the mattress as she straddles him. “Are you wasting away?” She teases, poking his stomach. “Going to suddenly die on me because Lukey eats like he's eating for two?"

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Quinn shoots up, his arms wrapping around her waist, his sudden actions making her squeak. He lines his face with hers, tired eyes snapping down to her mouth and then back up at her eyes. They flutter shut, hiding their colour from him, as he tentatively captures a kiss on the corner of her soft mouth.

“I guess I shouldn't complain too much,” he mumbles, moulding his hand to her hip. The other coming to rest on the side of her face, his thumb brushing softly against her warm skin. “Not if it means I get you to myself,” he adds, kissing the opposite corner of her mouth, his lips lingering until he forces himself to break away, “even if it's just for ten minutes."

She circles her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I think it's been more than ten minutes,” she whispers, suddenly scared to talk so loud. The right side of his mouth twitches, the rest of his mouth mirroring until his lips are stretched into a thin smile. “Your hands are cold,” she comments, tilting her face into the coldness of his palm.

“Then it's a good thing I've got you to warm them up.”

His mouth misses her lips, kissing her chin and heading south. His lips were soft, kissing down the column of her neck in a way that was torturous for the both of them. She whimpers as his tongue licks over her pulse point, and it takes every bit of strength in him not to leave a mark. “Should feel wrong to do this,” he mumbles, hot breath fanning her ear as he staggers kisses back up her neck, “but it doesn't. Ever.”

Y/N sighs, tipping her head back to expose more of her neck to him. He takes it as an opportunity to touch every inch of her with his lips. “Think I should be thanking Luke for clearing the fridge out,” she says, goosebumps rising on her skin as Quinn's beard scratches against her skin.

“Not like this, I hope.”

“Ew!” She gives his shoulder a soft push, her expression scrunching up with disgust. “Luke's like a little brother!”

He pulls back. “No brotherly love for me then?”

“Clearly not,” she deadpans.

“Wanna know what you are to me?”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, showing him half a frown. “Hopefully not like a little sister.” He smiles at her joke, subtly shaking his head.

“You're the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden.” He takes a deep breath. “You are the thing I want most but know I can't have.”

“It wasn't an apple.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it again, his brows knitted. “What?”

“You called it an apple,” she replies, elaborating on her previous statement, “but the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve took wasn't an apple.” Full of weird and often at times useless facts, she plucks this one from the deepest part of her mind. “It was just that, a piece of fruit."

"Well, it could've been an apple, an orange or even a strawberry," he states, pressing their foreheads together, "the sentiment still stands." His thumb brushes gently down the bridge of her nose, making her eyes flutter shut. "It's getting harder for me to stop every time we do this," he admits, the tips of noses nudging against each other as he hovers his lips above hers, "and you know I don't want to stop this. I want to do more than just kiss you."

Secret kisses when no one was looking, hands held in secret under blankets during movie nights, stolen moments in empty rooms, and looks that lingered for two seconds too long. That was the extent of Y/N and Quinn's ‘relationship.’

"I want all of you, Y/N.”

"You know all this fruit talk is wasting time, right?" Quinn could feel her bottom lip moving against his mouth as she spoke, drawing his gaze to it. "Time that we could be using to do something else.”

“You started it,” he smiles, closing the gap between them.

"That's a lie," she speaks against his mouth, "Pretty sure you said I was your forbidden apple." The smallest whimper escapes her mouth and is caught by his as he presses his hand firmly against the base of her skull, holding her in place. "It was kinda poetic," Y/N adds, Quinn sighing as she pulls away.

“You saying I should retire and become a poet?”

"You should definitely not do that," she's quick to answer, pecking the corner of his mouth, "I said it was kinda poetic, with a big emphasis on kinda.”

He gasps, holding his hand against his chest. “How can someone so angelic say such cruel words?"

“You're so stupid,” she giggles, joining their mouths together again.

He circles an arm around her waist and presses his body against hers, hoping she might feel the hammering of his heart as it beats against his chest. That's what she did to him. She made his heart beat faster than he thought should be possible. But maybe being in love was about doing the impossible.

"Quinn," Y/N breathes out his name, tipping her head back and tugging on his hair, the dark stands curling around her fingers, as his mouth slips down to her neck. "No marks, remember?" Her best friend was still an important part of this messy equation. "Quinn?”

"I hear you, baby," he replies against her skin, "no marks." One hand leaves the small of her back and teases the hem of her t-shirt. "But think how pretty you would look," she could feel his smirk pressing into her neck, "all marked up as mine.”

“Tempting,” his words shoot straight down to her core, flooding it with arousal, “but Jack-”

He cuts her off with a sigh. "I know," he mumbles, lifting his head, "Jack can't know.”

He touches his thumb to her bottom lip, pressing and dragging the calloused pad over it. The soft whimper that escapes turns the corners of his lips. "That sound." He does it again, his breath ragged as she whimpers for him. "Like heaven itself. And it's all mine, right?" There's a shift in his voice to something darker. It has her clamping her thighs tighter on either side of his hips. His hand slides along your jaw and tips her head. "You're only going to make that sound for me, yes?"

She nods her head. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He picks up on the moan she tries to force down but lets the curiosity die. There would be other chances to tease her.

"You know this is my shirt, right?" He changes the subject, seeking a temporary moment of calmness. Flipping their positions, he presses one hand into the mattress beside her, keeping himself hovered above. The material is soft, pinched between his fingers; he runs his thumb over a small but unnoticeable hole. "I let Jack borrow it the last time we were all together," he adds, snapping his eyes up to hers, a smile dragging out on his lips, "but I guess I know why I never got it back.”

“I could give it back to you.” He lifts his eyebrows. “But only if you ask nicely.”

He chuckles, the sound resonating low inside his chest. “Or I could just take it back,” he sits back on his knees, “take it off you.”

She bites her lip, heat trickling down her body. “Go on then,” she encourages, “take it off.”

In a matter of seconds, the t-shirt is removed and tossed across the room. A hard blush spreads across Quinn's cheeks and down his neck, turning every bit of him red, as his eyes land on her naked breasts. They were better than he could have ever imagined. Beautiful and perfect. He tries to speak, to say something about them, but all he can muster up is a grunt strangled in the back of his throat. It was like seeing her in a two-piece swimsuit for the first time all over again, just without the awkward and uncomfortable erection.

“Quinn?”

“Quiet, baby,” he mumbles, raking his eyes down her body, “just wanna look at you for a sec.”

Y/N had expected to feel uncomfortable letting him experience her like this for the first time, but instead, she felt bold and confident. It empowered her the way he would race his eyes up and down her figure, his gaze lingering on her nipples as they hardened. Propping up onto her elbows, she arches her back and sticks her chest out, letting him drink every inch of her in.

"Tell me you see how beautiful you are?" He asks, his voice growing soft.

"I feel beautiful when you look at me like that," she answers, staring back at the warm glow in his eyes.

"Good." She collapses back as he moves above her, his hands reaching for her face, his body dipping to kiss her. He drifts from her lips before she can kiss him back. "I never want you to feel anything but beautiful," he murmurs, coming back for a kiss and then another, only stopping when he needs to take a breath.

"Quinn?" He hums, taking your wrist against his lips. "Aren't you going to touch me?”

"Do you want me to touch you?"

She smiles. “Is the sky blue?”

He kisses her, nipping at her mouth as he pulls away. “Depends on the time of day,” he replies, grinning as she rolls her eyes. He shifts until one leg is resting between her thighs, causing her to gasp as he leans forward, pressing his thigh against the front of her shorts. The sound shoots straight to his cock. “I want a yes this time,” he lines his face up with hers, “do you want me to touch you?”

She runs her fingers delicately over his cheeks, raking her fingers through his hair as they continue to travel. “Yes, Quinn,” she draws his mouth closer to hers, “I want you to touch me.”

Quinn doesn't need to be asked twice, taking her mouth in a heated, messy kiss. He'd kissed her more times than he could count on both hands and yet he still got lost in the kiss like it was the first time. Thrusting his tongue, he owns her mouth, controlling her. He wanted this, and from the way she pulled him in closer, he knew she wanted this too.

She rocks her hips against his thigh, soft whimpers crawling up her throat, captured quickly by his mouth. Fresh arousal dampens her panties as he thrusts against her, the feeling of his hardened length pulsing against her injects her with a primal need. “Touch me,” she breathes out, nipping at his bottom lip. The metallic tang of blood burns on his tongue as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Q, please!"

He tips her head back, taking advantage of the exposed skin, burning a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. More whimpers escape her mouth as his tongue drags over her collarbone, driven mad to taste every bit of her.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he groans, cupping her breasts in his calloused hands. His cock twitches inside his shorts as he squeezes them into each other, mouthing something her ears don't catch before his mouth dipped low. The warmth of his breath fans over her skin, the wetness of his tongue coating it as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. “Like that, cutie?” He mumbles around her.

She nods, panting her answer as she arches her back, trying to push more into his mouth. He moves his mouth to the other, repeating his actions, sucking her nipple into his mouth. He smiles around the sensitive nub when she moans his name. It was music to his ear, something he'd remember when they inevitably separated at the end of the week.

Her fingers carve through his hair, holding tightly onto him as her hips buck, finding friction against his thigh. She throws her head back into the softness of the pillow, new heat flooding between her thighs, her mouth opening on a silent cry. He had barely done anything and she was already a withering mess.

“I need you,” Quinn breaks away, smoothing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

“Then have me,” Y/N replies, circling her arms around his back.

He surprises her, shaking his head. “Not like this.”

She searches his gaze. “And why not?”

“Because if we do this, I want to be able to take my time with you,” he says, his nose nuzzling into her face as he leaves a chaste kiss against her cheek, “not be forced to rush through it.”

Call it cheesy, but he wanted to create the perfect memory of this moment. He had a primal need to appreciate her, to take his time to run his hands over her every curve, to touch and kiss every inch of her body. To consume and claim her as his.

“Trust me?” The sound of gravel crunching under heavy wheels is heard over his voice, Y/N watching him as he leaves the bed. He picks up her t-shirt and then sits on the edge. “Give me a chance to do this properly,” he leans in and kisses her shoulder, her neck and then her cheek, “without the fear of Jack or Luke catching us.”

"Like a date or something?" Y/N asks, fixing her top. Jack and Luke's muffled voices inject some life into the previously quiet lake house. "Gonna be hard to hide something like that from Jack."

Heavy footsteps quickly approaching Y/N's door has Quinn feeling nervous. "We'll have to tell him eventually," he rushes to speak, sneaking one last kiss. She whines as he pulls away. "I'll think of something," he whispers, looking over his shoulder, the bedroom door opening to reveal Jack.

"You better go downstairs before Luke gets hungry again." Jack enters the room, flopping down onto the foot of his best friend's bed. "I'm not joking," he lifts his head to look at Quinn, "he was already talking about what he's having for lunch on the way back here. What are you doing in here anyway?" He glances at Y/N for an answer.

"We were discussing if we'd rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes," she omits half of the truth, bouncing her eyes between the two brothers.

NHL Taglist: @lovelynikol16 @chilwellspulisic

"Toes," Jack answers, with no second thought about it, "easier to hide."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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muffinpink02 · 24 days

Text

Co-Host part 4

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Warning - smut

The moment Lucy left, the girls had spoken non stop throughout the week. At first it was a stream of texts, until Leah decided that took too much effort and would rather see Lucy’s face. They had FaceTimed every day, mostly after training or before bed, talking about their days or not talking at all, sharing the calm silence between them.

The energy between them had shifted, it felt like it did that first night in the hotel room, when both girls dropped their guards. But it was even better then that, it felt like their relationship had jumped up a level, it felt like both girls could breath, like a heavy weight had disappeared, and a light air had settled between them.

——————

A week later and Lucy was on her way to pick up Leah for their first official date.

She had thought about it all week. She didn’t want to do anything too outlandish or over the top, she wanted to keep it simple and do something Leah would actually enjoy.

Then it came to her, cinema and bowling.

Classic.

It was the top tier first date for anyone, and it even involved a bit of a competition, that of course both girls loved.

Lucy knocked at Leah’s door, waiting for the blonde.

The door opened to a very cute looking Leah. She was wearing an over sized white shirt undone, with a loose white crop top, revealing her toned stomach. She finished it off with a pair of loose baggy jeans and brown converse. Her blonde hair in a pony tail.

Leah was nervous, she had been nervous the whole week, she was finally getting to go on a real date with Lucy. She had wondered what a date with the brunette would be like for a few years.

She stood at the door way looking at Lucy, who was also looking very cute. She was wearing a black over sized T shirt, with cream cargo trousers. Two thin gold chains sparkled on her neck, finishing it off with white Nikes. Her hair nearly parted in her famous bun to finish it off.

“Hey.” The blonde smiled sweetly at the brunette, closing the door behind her.

“Hi.” The brunette smiled shyly.

They embraced warmly, both girls holding on a second longer, just wanting to feel the others body.

Leah pulled back, her heart racing a little harder.

“So, where you taking me? I’m excited.”

“I was thinking cinema and bowling?”

Leah’s smile widened. “Oh I’m going to beat you, I’m amazing at bowling. You don’t know what you’re in for.”

Lucy laughed, it was nice to see Leah a lot more laid back, something she hadn’t got to experience face to face in a long time.

“Pshhh, yeah, yeah. You wish.” Lucy grinned ear to ear.

Both girls laughed, each catching small glances at each other.

Considering both girls had seen each other naked plenty of times, also having sex countless times, there was a nervous, shy exchange between them.

It was a weird feeling, going on a first date with someone after you had already seen their come face hundreds of times.

——————

In one of the rare occasions when they actually spoke after a night of sex, the girls had spoken about films and shows they liked. Lucy had remembered Leah mentioning that she was a marvel fan, and luckily enough, so was Lucy.

Marvel had a new film out, so of course Lucy got two tickets for them to watch. She also bought the largest popcorn for them to share, but even with such a big box they found themselves constantly touching hands.

Not that either girl minded.

During the film Lucy would find herself staring at Leah, it was mostly after a funny scene. She'd watch the blonde laugh, she loved how her her eyes wrinkled from her smile. Lucy couldn’t help but catch herself smiling at the sight.

The film came to an end and the credits rolled up, but of course neither girl moved. Leah scoffed as other movie goers got up to leave.

“Why don’t people know that there is a whole scene after the credits?” She rolled her eyes.

Lucy chuckled softly at the girls annoyance.

“Maybe cos they’re not as nerdy as you?”

Leah faked a gasp. Throwing the end of the popcorn at Lucy.

“Erm no. Nothing about Marvel is nerdy, thank you. And neither am I.”

Both girls laughed loudly. As the credits finished Leah grabbed Lucy’s hand.

“Shhh it’s starting.”

Lucy had held Leah’s hands plenty of times, in many different ways. She had felt the majority of the girls body, but Leah’s hand in hers right now felt completely different, the butterfly’s were flying hard in her stomach.

Lucy smiled and whispered. “Nerd.”

Once the film was finished they made their way to the bowling alley next door.

Leah rubbed her hands, smirking at Lucy.

“I’m really good at bowling, so don’t be too upset when I beat you.”

Lucy laughed as she finished putting their names in the computer. She walked up close to Leah’s face.

“I actually can’t wait to beat you. Do you not know who you’re playing with? I don’t lose.” The older girls smirk was playful, showing off her pearly whites.

Leah wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of the competition or the excitement of having Lucy so close to her face that made her heart rate spike.

Either way she wanted to wipe that smirk right off of Lucy’s annoyingly gorgeous face.

The girls started their first round, both starting of strong, but neither hitting a strike. By the last round Leah was in the lead by only two points, but she was making sure to remind Lucy every five minutes.

And of course Lucy wasn’t happy, she was shocked at just how good Leah was. She never normally would have to interfere with any game or competition she was in, but Leah’s teasing was getting the better of her.

It was now Leah’s turn, she waited for the machine to release the dark green bowling ball she’d been playing with throughout the game. Just as the ball was released she felt a strong body behind her back, a familiar perfume taking over her senses.

“Thats not too heavy for you, is it?”

Lucy was pressed up against Leah’s back, breathing down her neck. She dipped her fingers into the dark green ball, trying to make a show.

Leah shivered, she watched Lucy’s dexterous fingers dip into the holes, giving her flashbacks of nights when Lucy had those exact fingers inside her.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself Lee.” Her voice was deep and full of mischief.

Leah knew what she was doing, and annoyingly it was working, she let out a deep breath trying to gain some composure.

“No, it’s definitely not too heavy, thanks. You can go back on the bench now.” She smirked.

Lucy chuckled, she pressed her front a little deeper into Leah’s arse.

“No problem, just wanted to make sure you don’t hurt those precious fingers of yours. They’re important to me.”

She felt Lucy move away, but her presence still stuck to her. She turned around to see Lucy back on the bench, a wicked smile plastered on her face.

Fuck.

Leah walked over to take her turn, she tried to concentrate but Lucy was in her head.

She threw the ball, and before it even got half way it swerved to the side, hitting the gutter. All 9 skittles still standing.

She turned around to see a shit eating grin plastered on Lucy’s face.

“Ahh Leah, gutted for you.”

Lucy laughed as she stood to take her turn.

“You cheated! At least I know I didn’t have to mess with you to win.”

Leah sat at the bench, her arms folded in annoyance.

Lucy couldn’t help but feel a little bad, but seeing Leah sulk like this was maybe the cutest things she’d ever seen, she even had her bottom lips sticking out.

Lucy walked up to take her go, she took the shot as she normally did but this time she striked.

She couldn’t hold back the grin on her face as she heard Leah behind her.

“Are you serious?”

The blonde stuck her tongue between her lip and teeth in annoyance.

Lucy gingerly walked over to the blonde, trying to hold back the laugh.

Leah wouldn’t look at her, she wanted to prove a point. Until Lucy bent down, her face close to hers once more.

“Ahh I’m sorry Lee.”

Leah kept her eyes purposefully off the brunette, standing her ground.

“You play dirty Bronze.”

Lucy’s smirk was devilish. She gently cupped Leah’s chin, making her face her, so she had nowhere else to look. She purred her next words.

“You love when I play dirty.”

Leah couldn’t hide the shiver that ran up her spine. Hating that Lucy saw it for herself.

“How can I make it up you Lee?” Her voice was low and soft.

Lucy’s lips were inches from Leah’s, the brunettes eyes were staring at the blondes glossed lips. She looked like she wanted to devour her.

Leah couldn’t keep up the annoyance any longer, having Lucy this close to your face and not kissing her felt criminal.

She grabbed the brunette by her shirt and connected their lips together. Both girls moaning softly at the feeling of each other’s lips. It had been over three weeks since they last kissed, this was long overdue.

After a few minutes they reluctantly pulled back, they were in a public place after all.

“I’ve missed that.” Lucy bit her own lips, smiling at the girl in front of her.

“So have I.” Leah was a little breathless.

For a few seconds the girls stared at each other, just smiling, until their moment was interrupted by a group, cheering loudly a couple rows down, bringing them back to the room.

Lucy stood back up, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Right, next round.”

“Try not to cheat this time Bronze.”

They played one more round of bowling, with no distractions this time, Lucy kept her flirting to a minimum and Leah won the round by three points. Lucy being only slightly annoyed.

They wondered over to the arcade, both girls ready to show off their gaming skills. The pair were in their element.

Of course between two athletes and competitive gamers, they ended up winning an absurd amount of pink tokens. Lucy winning the most on the basket hoops, Leah secretly finding the sport sexy on the brunette.

Lucy used her winnings on a white teddy bear for Leah. It was the least she could do for her shenanigans at bowling.

Once they were all gamed out they made their way to an Italian restaurant Lucy had made reservations for. She knew Leah was picky, so she didn’t want to take her anywhere too spicy.

Throughout the meal they didn’t take their eyes off each other. The playful mood from earlier was turning into playful flirting. It was hot between them, the girls playing footsies throughout the meal.

They spoke about what happened between them these last few months. Both apologising every chance they could. It wasn’t too heavy, but it was needed. They both felt lighter, both gaining an understanding of the other’s point of view.

It was upsetting to now know if they had just spoken they wouldn’t have gone through all the heart break. But as they say, you live and you learn. They were just happy to be with each other now.

Their first date came to an end, Lucy paid the waiter and of course Leah tried to argue, but Lucy wasn’t having any of it.

Lucy hailed a black cab. The brunette mindlessly played with Leah’s hands as the spoke in the cab. Leah noticed the warmth in her cheeks from the touch, loving the feeling of Lucy’s soft side coming out. The side she had got a small glimpse of that first night.

The taxi pulled up to Leah’s house.

“Can you give me two minutes, I’ll be right back.” Lucy asked the cab driver.

“No worries.”

“Thanks,”

She walked Leah to her door, she really didn’t want to end it here but she knew she had to.

Both girls came to a stop, shy smiles plastered their faces. Leah broke the silence.

“I’ve had the best day. Thank you so much. And thank you for my bear” She held the toy close to her face.

Lucy smiled bashfully at the blonde. “You’re welcome. I’ve had such a good time.”

Leah pulled Lucy gently by her hands, closer to her face.

“Are you sure I can’t pay the taxi to leave now? And you and I finish this date off properly?”

Lucy bit her lip. It was very tempting.

“I want nothing more than to have my way with you, but I really want to give us time.”

Leah nodded, she knew Lucy was right, she wanted that too, she wanted more than what it was before. She just was so desperate to have Lucy.

“You’re right. Sorry, I know we agreed. I just…god I just want you so bad.”

Lucy chuckled. “I do too.”

Leah grabbed her hands kissing her softly.

“The next date is my turn.”

Lucy smiled. “Oh another date? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

Leah laughed sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll see if Ona’s about for a date. Im sure she’d appreciate me.”

Lucy laughed pulling Leah closer to her body.

“I’d love to go on another date.”

“Thats what I thought.”

They kissed once more, finding it hard to let go. Lucy made her way back to the cab. She waited until Leah was in her house before she got in the car.

She got her phone out texting Leah straight away. Also receiving an instant reply.

Lucy - God, that was hard

Leah - I know, I was close to dragging you inside

Leah - not in a creepy way

Lucy chuckled.

Lucy - so what’s the next date?

Leah - you’ll have to wait and see

Lucy - hmmm I can’t wait

——————-

The girls ended up going on a series of dates, they had gone to gigs, comedy clubs, pottery class and even a football match. Each date was better than the last, they grew closer each time, constantly finding out new things about the other.

It was also becoming harder at the end of each date to say goodbye without finding themselves pressed against a wall, tongue’s down each other’s throats.

It had been 6 weeks, and they had kept to their no sex rule, keeping it PG. A few kisses and make out sessions here and there, but the desperation was starting to show.

——————

On their next date Leah planned for the pair to attend a cocktail making class.

The girls were standing around a C shape bar, with a few other participants and a cocktail teacher in the middle. There was a bunch of fresh ingredients laid out in front of them, with some fancy T ools Leah had never seen before.

The teacher walked through the instructions on how to make their cocktails, step by step. The girls were enjoying themselves, now and again Leah was finding it a little hard to follow instructions and of course Lucy was making it look easy, and at times even sexy.

But it seemed Leah wasn’t the only one that had the same thought. A short blonde girl besides the brunette had been shamelessly checking Lucy out during the entire class.

Leah tried to not let it get to her, Lucy was beautiful. She was going to get people looking at her, Leah had actually already gotten used to women and annoyingly men, admiring Lucy, it happened a lot. But this girl was just a bit too bold for Leah’s liking.

The striker could hear the girl making unnecessary conversation with Lucy, Lucy of course was oblivious to the girls flirting or if she had noticed she didn’t lead on. She replied politely enough with a laugh or a one liner.

“Have you done this before? You seem to know what you’re doing. You definitely have the arms for it.” The blonde girl smiled.

“Oh, thanks.” Lucy smiled politely.

Lucy could feel Leah’s rage next her, watching as she cut the Lemon for her drink, gutting the poor fruit.

She knocked Leah gently, giving her a wink, she was happy to get a small smile from the girl.

By the third cocktail the blonde continued to flirt with Lucy, even though Lucy wasn’t giving her anything.

“Oh wow, your cocktail looks so good, do you think I could taste you? Sorry, I mean yours?”

The short blonde girl laughed, stepping a little close to Lucy.

Lucy was lost for words, she looked like a dear in head lights.

That was far enough for Leah.

Leah reached over to Lucys section, grabbing the cocktail and downing the glass in one go.

She smacked her lips loudly. “You’re right, that was delicious.”

Leah wiped the dribble from her chin. Going back to her own cocktail.

The blonde screwed up her face, muttering something under her breath, clearly pissed off. Leah looked back over at her smiling sweetly.

“But it didn’t taste as good as you.” She whispered it into Lucy’s ear but loud enough for the girl to hear.

Lucy gulped, she smiled wickedly at Leah, she was loving this jealous side to her.

That had shut the blonde up, she didn’t try and talk to Lucy again after that.

The class came to an end, so the girls made their way down to the bar part of the building, they ordered some drinks and found a small wooden booth lit by a candle.

Lucy was smiling at Leah, an amused smile Leah’s hadn’t seen before.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

Lucy chuckled. “I like jealous Leah. She’s cute.”

Leah ducked her head, playing with the beer mat, she couldn’t help but smirk. She was glad Lucy saw it as cute and not anything bad.

“Yeah, well. She was too much, she wouldn’t stop staring at you, talking to you. She was like a bitch in heat.”

Lucy really laughed then. She took Leah’s hands stroking it gently.

“Well, just so you know, I only have eyes for you.”

Leah felt her cheeks blush, thankful the table was lit by the low light of the candle.

“Good, glad to hear it.”

The girls spoke for a bit, they decided to stay at the bar as they were enjoying the vibe and drinks.

“Same again?”

Lucy nodded. “Please.”

Lucy watched Leah as she walked to the bar, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pure happiness wash over her.

These last couple of weeks had been the happiest she’d been in a while. Every time she saw Leah, or got a text or call from her, she’d feel those dangerous butterflies in her stomach. She was all she thought about, her feelings were growing for the blonde more and more everyday, it was scary but she liked it.

Leah ordered their cocktails, she glanced over at Lucy, catching the brunette looking at her with a doppy smile on her face.

She looked over at Lucy every now and then, enjoying her view.

Like Lucy, Leah couldn’t help but notice just how happy she was in herself. She couldn’t deny it she was falling for Lucy, it was the happiest she’d ever been, she felt so comfortable around the brunette. She felt like she could be herself, no mask just her.

By the fifth glance Lucy was no longer alone.

Lucy looked up ready to see Leah, but the blonde from the class was now in front of her.

“Hey, I’m Erin. Let’s cut to the chase. I think you’re really fucking hot. I’m really fucking hot, so you should give me your number.”

Lucy had heard a few bad chat up lines, a few one liners that were even a bit bold, but that had to be one of the cringiest ones she’s ever heard.

“No, you’re alright. My girlfriend is hot enough.” She gestured towards Leah at the bar.

Even in this stupid conversation, Lucy liked the way she said girlfriend so easily.

Leah could tell from Lucy’s body language that she was uncomfortable but was being polite, it even looked like she nodded towards Leah, but that didn’t seem to deter the girl.

Erin didn’t bother to look at Leah, she clearly knew who she was talking about.

“Girlfriend? God, well I can be your friend surely? Aren’t you allowed friends? Friends that can fuck?”

Lucy felt herself physically back up in her seat.

Back at the bar Leah could feel the anger boiling up in her. Why did this girl not get the hint?

Just in time the drinks were made and Leah was back at the table in seconds. Lucy’s face brightened as she watched her marching over.

“Hey Lee. I was just telling Emily.”

The blonde cleared her throat “Its Erin.”

“Oh sorry. Erin that we a-hmm.”

Lucy couldn’t finish her sentence as Leah’s mouth was now on hers.

Leah held Lucy by the chin, sticking her tongue deep inside her mouth, licking and sucking every inch of her tongue, causing the brunette to moan.

Leah moved to straddle the brunette, she loved that Lucy wasn’t pushing her away, or stopping their kisses.

Lucy’s head was spinning, she was close to passing out from the lack of oxygen but she didn’t care, not when Leah was kissing her like this. She knew as soon as the blonde came over Leah was going to loose her shit and she couldn’t help but love this jealous side of her.

Leah pulled back, just slightly as she heard Lucy groan. She felt Lucy pulling her closer by her arse, she couldn’t hold back her own moan from the move.

She’d almost forgotten why she’d gone all out like this. She turned around to see the blonde still sitting there, she looked disgusted.

“Are you still here? Mate you’re not getting her, she’s mine. Fuck off.”

The girl looked shocked, she huffed, leaving the booth quickly.

Leah turned back around to face a very smug looking Lucy.

“I’m yours? Is that so?”

Lucy grinned from ear to ear, her lips swollen from Leah’s kissing.

“Well, I would have liked to ask you in a completely different way, but yeah. I do want you to be mine. I want you to be my girlfriend, if you want to be of course.”

It was the brightest smile Leah had ever seen on Lucy’s face. It made her heart race.

“I do. I definitely want to be your girlfriend. I just told her that you were my girlfriend, my very hot girlfriend.”

“Oh did you now?”

Leah’s smile was just as bright as Lucy’s, she leaned in to the defenders lips, kissing her softly. She continued.

“Shall we finish these drinks and head back to mine?”

Lucy nodded eagerly. “Please.”

They had just about finished their drinks by the time they started to drag each other out the bar. Leah couldn’t help but wink at the blonde while Lucy pulled her by the hand.

Her face was a picture.

—————

They tumbled into the back of a black cab, Lucy gave Leah’s address to the driver and within seconds her mouth was back on Leah’s lips. But it was over as quickly as it started. Both noticing the cab drivers eyes lingering in the rear view mirror, they kept their hands to themselves, not wanting to give the cab driver a show.

But Lucy couldn’t help herself, she glanced down at Leah’s beautiful bare thighs, thanking the gods the blonde had worn a skirt that day.

She traced her fingers slowly around Leah’s hot skin, watching the girl open her legs wider. Lucy couldn’t hold back the chuckle at Leah’s eagerness.

Leah’s breath caught in her throat, just this simple touch from Lucy was making her pussy throb. It had been so long since she last felt Lucy’s hands on her skin.

Lucy snaked her hand higher up the firm thigh, past the end of Leah’s skirt, she watched as Leah’s body reacted to her touch. She heard Leah make a small groan as she got a little higher, she felt her own pussy throb at the site.

Leah placed her coat over her lap, not wanting any wondering eyes to see what they were up to.

Her fingers hit the curve of Leah’s thigh, she could feel her lace underwear under her fingers, Lucy smiled to herself, she could tell Leah was wearing thongs.

She gently skirted her fingers across Leah’s lips, feeling the dampness of the fabric. Once again her smile grew, her beautiful, cocky smile plastered on her face. She whispered in a low voice.

“Is someone wet already?”

Leah felt her skin prickle with goosebumps, she hadn’t been touched by Lucy in so long, even the slightest touch made her feel completely on the edge.

“I’ve been wet since we met.”

Those words alone made Lucy want to rip Leah’s clothes off and take her how she wanted in the backseat of the cab, but she knew she couldn’t.

Well, she could if Leah could be quiet.

She pushed her fingers hard against Leah’s sex, knowing exactly where her clit was, causing the blonde to moan hard.

“Fuck Luce.” Leah gasped.

Lucy pushed harder, rubbing slowly against her sensitive clit.

Leah was in heaven, even if Lucy’s fingers wasn’t on her completely, it still felt amazing. But suddenly the feeling was gone, Lucy pulled her fingers back.

Leah blinked her eyes open in confusion, she looked at the brunette who had a mischievous smile on her face.

Fuck.

“You got to be quiet Lee, I’ll stop if you make another sound.”

“I won’t, please. Don’t stop.” Desperation stuck to her voice.

Lucy bit her lip, she got more comfortable and dipped her hand back in between Leah’s legs.

Leah bit her own lip, feeling Lucy rub against her again. She could handle this if she concentrated, she could keep quiet and not lose Lucy’s beautiful fingers.

But Lucy wanted more, she slipped her fingers under Leah’s wet fabric, sliding her fingers between Leah’s wet lips.

The gasp Leah let out was loud but she stopped herself quickly. She looked at the cab driver hoping he hadn’t noticed, and thankfully he didn’t. She chanced a look at Lucy, who had the audacity to be smiling at her.

But she didn’t stop her, she only opened her legs further, giving Lucy as much room as she needed.

Lucy watched as Leah bit her lip, holding in her whimpers, she looked amazing, she was concentrating so hard to not to make any noise.

“You’re doing so well Lee.”

Leah closed her eyes, she couldn’t look at Lucy, not now.

Then without warning, Lucy dipped a single digit into Leah’s cunt, her muscles tightened instantly around her finger.

The blonde let out a raspy groan, her eyes closing hard as she felt Lucy start to pump gently into her.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Lucy whispered.

Leah sunk down into her seat, wanting to feel Lucy as deep as possible. She felt a little self conscious considering she was in the back of someone’s car, but there was no way she could stop Lucy.

Lucy kept her pace slow, but deep. She watched as Leah’s face scrunched into a frown, still trying her hardest to be quiet. She could feel Leah’s cunt clenching around her, making Lucy’s own pussy wet.

She pushed in another finger, feeling some resistance, but it didn’t stop her, she pushed herself further inside Leah slowly pumping away.

Leah gasped, she gripped Lucy’s free hand, needing to feel the girl, she could feel Lucy stretching her.

Lucy kept her movements slow, she brought her thumb up, just barely rubbing small circles on her sensitive clit. She knew her slow movements wasn’t going to allow Leah to come, and that’s exactly what she wanted.

Leah let out a small high pitched whimper, as she felt Lucy barely touch her clit, it was painful how much she needed her.

She knew Lucy was teasing her, she knew she wasn’t going to let her come, but Leah was desperate. She pushed her hips up, trying to find the pressure that she needed, but of course Lucy pulled her thumb away.

“That’s naughty Lee, I didn’t say you could do that.”

“Please Lucy, please.” She hated begging so early on in their sexual activities but it had been so long and she was desperate.

Lucy looked hard at the girl, her green eyes were intense, only making Leah squirm more under her.

Before the blonde could say anything the older girl pushed perfectly on her clit, her fingers pumped harder, hitting at her g spot.

Leah’s head fell backwards, she let out a small moan, but Lucy was quick to remind her to be quiet.

“You need to be quiet Lee, you don’t want me to stop do you?”

Leah put her own hand over her mouth, in the best attempt to make it look natural. She closed her eyes once more, letting Lucy take her as she pleased.

She could feel the cusp of her orgasm building, her stomach tightening, she just needed a little more. But before her body could get any further Lucy’s hand was gone.

“Anywhere here?” The cab driver pulled up.

Thankfully Lucy replied, Leah was caught completely off guard, not realising they were already outside her house.

“Yeah, here’s perfect, thank you.”

Lucy tapped her card on the reader, she opened the door, putting her hand out for Leah to take, knowing the girl was probably on wobbly legs.

Leah took Lucy’s hand, her head was a complete daze, one minute she was on the verge of a glorious orgasm, and the next minute she was being pulled out from the back of the cab, feeling a little uncomfortable from her drenched thongs.

Suddenly, she felt Lucy’s strong body against her back, almost holding her up. Lucy snaked her hands around her waist, her mouth against her ear, tickling her skin with her lips. She whispered.

“God, I can’t wait to have you. It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.” Her voice sounded desperate, like she was ready to have Leah right there, on the street.

Leah shivered, she grabbed Lucy’s hand, dragging her to her door, she tried to be quick with the keys but Lucy was once again behind her, breathing down Leah’s neck, in the most delicious way.

They fell in the door way, both girls grabbing each other in a mess of hands and mouths, kissing where they could. Leah grabbed Lucy by her shirt, pulling her in for a hard kiss.

Lucy was more than happy to have Leah against her lips, he pushed her tongue in desperately, needing to feel Leah’s mouth.

Leah whimpered, Lucy was everywhere, Leah’s pussy was throbbing to the point of painful.

The girls were hungry for each other, it had been nearly three months since they last had sex, both parties were desperate for the other.

Lucy easily picked Leah up by the waist, Leah instantly wrapped her legs around the brunette, kissing each other deeply. Lucy walked the pair to Leah’s room, smelling the familiar smells of Leah’s house.

She guided Leah to her dresser draws, placing her on top gently, never stopping their kissing. She removed Leah’s shirt, leaving her in her bra and skirt.

Lucy bit Leah’s bottom lip, loving the whimpers that came from the blonde. She soothed her lip gently with her own tongue, sucking the pink flesh once more.

The brunette held Leah by her sides, gliding her hands up and down Leah’s body, feeling her muscles flex under her hands. She’d missed this so much She pulled Leah in closer, so she was on the edge of the dresser.

She looked at the sight of Leah in her bra and skirt.

Her hair was tussled her cheeks a blush pink, her chest heaving hard, her lips swollen from Lucy’s harsh kisses. She looked amazing.

Lucy placed her hands on Leah’s thighs, pushing upwards, she grabbed her ruined, soaked thongs, pulling them down her thighs. She threw the ruined clothing over her shoulder.

“I want to fuck you with your skirt on.”

Leah nodded, whatever Lucy wanted, she would do.

Lucy slowly pushed Leah’s legs further apart, never taking her green eyes off of Leah’s blues.

Lucy guided her hand inbetween Leah’s legs, finally back at the spot she needed her most.

The hiss Leah let out was loud, she was extremely sensitive, Lucy’s little game in the cab had worked up her body. The slightest touch felt like it was going to make her explode.

Lucy let out her own moan, she was a little shocked at how wet Leah was, she had seen the girl wet hundreds of times before, but this may have been the wettest she’d ever felt her. But she wasn’t complaining.

She circled her fingers, watching Leah lose her grip on it all, her face in complete bliss. Her eyes were closed tightly the older girl pushed two fingers into Leah’s cunt, not giving her anytime to get used to the feeling. She drove her fingers deep and precise into Leah, she felt the blondes long legs wrap around her waist.

“Oh my god! Lucy!”

Lucy began to kiss Leah’s neck, sucking on her skin, she was definitely going to leave a colourful mark. She kissed up to Leah’s soft skin, closer to her ear.

“I’ve missed you.” Lucy whispered.

She pushed her thumb against Leah’s clit, loving the loud moans escaping her mouth. Lucy couldn’t get over how good Leah looked, how good this felt.

This felt different to every time before, it felt like it meant something more, like she was allowed to feel something. She could feel her own walls were breaking down, her feelings were heightened.

“I’ve missed you too.” Leah gasped.

Leah was going through her own feelings, it was hard to concentrate with Lucy doing what she does best. But just like Lucy, this felt different, there was a sense of different sense of excitement. It felt like both girls were holding each other a little longer, their kisses had a little more longing to them.

Lucy snaked her hand up to Leah’s neck, holding her firmly as she pumped, she wrapped her fingers gently around her throat. She could feel Leah’s heart beating beneath her fingers.

“I’m coming, I’m coming Luce!”

She came hard on Lucy’s fingers, she could feel Leah’s cunts muscles twitch around her fingers. Her head slumped forward on Lucy’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath.

Lucy slowly removed her fingers. She kissed Leah gently, pushing her hair back.

“Hey, you okay there?” Lucy smiled at the blonde.

Leah finally sat back, revealing a doppey smile, looking a little dazed.

“I’m sooo good. My girlfriend just made me come so hard, I can’t feel my legs.”

Lucy laughed, she kissed Leah again.

“Glad to hear it. Do you think you could take the strap?”

“You have so much energy.” Leah laughed softly, still coming out of her pleasured daze. “You know I want the strap.”

“Good. You’re going to ride me, then before you come I want you to sit on my face.”

“Ergh Lucy, fuck. Please, please can we do that.”

Lucy helped Leah down from the draws, Leah could never get over just how strong Lucy was.

They helped each other get naked, stealing soft kisses inbetween each clothing that was removed. Constantly pulling each other closer.

Lucy got the harness ready, wearing one of Leah’s favourite 7 inch dildos, this dildo also gave the wearer pleasure, having a small vibrator that rubbed at your clit.

She rubbed a generous amount of lube and shuffled to the top of the bed, leaning her back against the head board.

Leah crawled after her, shimmying herself above the glistening dick, straddling Lucy.

Lucy leaned forward, sliding her hand behind Leah’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She loved having Leah like this, face to face, getting to see every detail of her face while she fucked her.

“You ready?”

Leah nodded, her concentration face was on. Her hands rested on Lucys shoulders as she slowly lowered herself on the head of the dick.

Lucy had one hand on the dick, the other on Leah’s waist, helping guide the blonde down.

Slowly, Leah pushed herself onto Lucy’s dick, feeling the slight stretch from the thickness of the toy.

She was thankful Lucy warmed her up before hand, it had been a while since she had anything this big in her.

Lucy stared in amazement, she watched as Leah’s cunt swallowed her dick, inch by inch, until her thighs were skin to skin with Lucy’s.

The younger girls shakey breath caught in her throat. Her frown line deepened as she tried to get used to the sensation inside her.

“Fuck.” Leah let out a shakey sigh.

Lucy’s hands lightly stroked up and down the blondes thighs, waiting patiently.

Leah gently moved her hips, a small whimper already escaping her mouth, she could feel her cunt twitching at the stretch.

Lucy snaked her hands up onto Leah’s hips, helping the blondes movements, not that she needed help but Lucy couldn’t keep her hands off of her girlfriend.

Leah started to move quicker, easing her hips upwards as she felt Lucy’s dick stroke her. She groaned hard, she kept her hands on Lucy’s shoulders, she could feel her strong muscles twitching under her hands.

“That’s it baby, you ride my dick so well.”

Leah got faster, completely used to the fullness inside her. She finally opened her eyes to a soft smiling Lucy. She felt her pussy squeeze at the sight of the brunette, the way Lucy was looking at Leah was almost overwhelming.

She moved her hips harder, moving forward to capture Lucy’s lips. She kissed her girlfriend gently, happy to have Lucy’s lips on hers again, she wanted nothing else just everything that was Lucy.

Lucy began to kiss Leah’s neck, her perfume drowning her senses. She began to move her own hips, making sure to keep in time with Leah’s.

She smiled against her skin, hearing the blonde moan from her movements, one of Lucy’s favourite sounds. She loved Leah like this, she loved her in most positions, but this one was intimate, having Leah’s face inches from hers, while she fucked herself with her dick. It was breathtaking.

Lucy pulled Leah closer to her, her hands on the strikers back. She ducked her head, capturing a perfectly perked nipple in her warm mouth.

Leah moaned louder, her hands gripping the back of Lucy’s head, both girls keeping up their movements of their hips.

Lucy moved on to the other nipple, swirling her tongue over the pink flesh, she could feel Leah’s back curve under her touch, pushing her closer to her chest.

Lucy let go of the nipple with a loud pop, she covered Leah’s chest with kisses, tasting her sweat that began to form of Leah’s skin.

Leah’s moaning got louder, her clit was begging to be touched.

“Luce.”

“Yeah baby?”

“Please.”

“What do you need Lee?”

“You.”

“You’ve got me.”

Fuck. Lucy loved doing this to Leah, making her beg or just making her talk before she gave her what she wanted, but Leah secretly loved it. It always made her orgasm more intense.

“No. I want to come, please.”

Lucy sucked on Leah’s pulse point, the girl was going to look like a Cheater tomorrow.

“Hmmm do you deserve it?”

“P-Please Lucy, give your g-girlfriend what she wants.”

That got Lucys attention, she smiled that beautiful smile that Leah loved.

“I like that. Say it again.”

Leah was sweating, her voice was raspy.

“Give your girlfriend what she w-w-wants. Ple…..Fuck. Lucy, fuck yes.”

Lucy had her skill full fingers on Leah’s clit, rubbing her just the way she liked.

“God Leah, you’re so beautiful.”

She captured Leah’s lips, swallowing a moan. Leah could just about form a kiss, she was going into over drive. Her thrust got harder, her hips grinding deeper as she felt Lucy’s magical fingers building up her orgasm.

Lucy hadn’t turned on the vibrator yet, but it had been rubbing at her clit throughout. She could feel her own orgasm slowly building in her stomach.

Lucy drover her hips hard, she could feel her own sweat on her skin. Her wetness between her legs started to drip down onto the sheets below.

She snaked her other hand into Leah’s hair, making her face the brunette.

“You got so jealous today. Do you know how hot it was, how fucking hot you are.”

Lucy’s accent was so deep and thick Leah nearly couldn’t understand her, something she noticed when Lucy was aroused.

“You’re mine Luce.”

Leah’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as Lucy’s fingers pushed harder on to her bundle of nerves, picking up the pace. The groan she let out was animalistic.

Lucy quickly switched on the vibrator. She wanted to come with Leah.

“I’m all yours Leah, no one else. Just yours.”

Leah nodded her head, she couldn’t form words right now. Her head tilted forward, her thighs shock as she felt her orgasm building.

Lucy rocked her hips hard, grunting as she chased her own climax, her clit was begging for release.

Lucy pushed Leah’s face to hers, needing to feel her lips. She smiled at the frazzled look on Leah’s face, it was absolute perfection.

And for Leah that’s what pushed her to her climax, a very hard and loud climax. Lucy’s beautiful smile, her mischievous gorgeous green eyes looking at her like she was everything and more.

She screamed Lucy’s name as she came.

Her orgasm nearly pushed her body to black out, it was one of the most intense orgasms she had ever had. She held on to Lucy’s shoulders, her head falling in her neck. She could feel her own juices gathering at the bottom of the strap.

Lucy watched her girlfriend come down from her orgasm, just barely slowing down her hips. She was close to her own orgasm she just needed a little more friction.

She knew Leah wouldn’t be able to hold herself up, she grabbed the younger girl by her hips, pushing them both over until Leah was flat on her back.

Lucy was still inside her, she laid over Leah’s body, driving her hips into the girl beneath her, so close to her own climax.

Leah’s body was in over drive.

“Luce.” She whimpered.

“I’m so close Lee.” Lucy husked.

Lucy grinded her hips, forcing Leah’s body hard into the mattress below her.

Leah gripped at Lucy’s back, holding on for dear life as Lucy fucked her into a mess of moans.

“Thats it baby. Just a little more, take it.” Lucy grunted in Leah’s ear.

Leah would take another hour of Lucy fucking her, if it meant Lucy would feel even a little bit of pleasure. She tilted her head back, whimpering from Lucy’s thrust.

Lucy sucked on the blondes neck, knowing it was a turn on for her.

“You- you’re so….so fucking go-good Lucy.”

She wrapped her legs around Lucy’s waist pulling her deeper, pushing Lucy into her own orgasm.

“Fuck. Leah!”

Her hips jerked into the girl below as her clit pulsated against the vibration. She pushed as hard she could, chasing her sweet climax.

She slowed her movements, still pumping into Leah, breathing hard into the younger girls neck, kissing her sticky skin. She could feel her own juices gathering at her thighs.

Her muscles felt heavy, as her body came down from the high, sinking into Leah’s hot skin.

“Oh my god.” Lucky chuckled with a slight rasp.

Leah laughed, kissing Lucy’s neck.

Both girls panted hard, trying to catch their breath. Lucy gently pulled out of Leah, quickly taking off her harness.

She crawled back on the mattress.

“I hope you’re ready to be eaten out.”

Leah bit her bottom lip, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, but she had a better idea.

“I hope you are too.”

Lucy raised her eyebrow, smirking at the blonde.

“Lay down.”

Lucy did what she was told, laying in the middle of the bed. She watched as Leah swung her leg over her body, sitting in a reverse cowgirl position.

She backed up, her knees either side of Lucy’s arms. Lucy instantly grabbing her waist, guiding her in the right spot.

“You’re dripping.”

Lucy licked her lips, eager to get her mouth on Leah’s pussy. She loved eating Leah out like this.

Leah chuckled as she felt Lucy pull her hips down, the girl was always so impatient. She looked down at Lucy’s abs, mindlessly stroking her hand on firm muscles.

She casted her eyes on Lucy’s pussy, still dripping from her last orgasm. She swiped her finger up through her lips, she felt Lucy jolt under her.

“Leah! Don’t tease.”

Leah giggled, she leaned forward her face inches from Lucy’s pussy. She lowered her own body so Lucy could reach what she needed most.

Lucy pulled Leah’s hips down, her tongue ready and waiting, she took a long broad stroke through her folds.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” Leah groaned.

Lucy started to lap at Leah, she was fully open for her. Every inch of her exposed for Lucy to have as she pleased.

Leah dipped her head, kissing on Lucy’s clit, she felt the girl buck again, she was clearly still sensitive from her previous orgasm.

Both girls were in heaven, the wet sucking sounds in the room were utterly filthy.

Leah started to grind her hips, as she felt Lucy suck on her clit, her juices dripped down Lucy’s chin as her climax started building.

Leah could tell Lucy was close, she pushed two fingers into Lucy’s cunt, pumping slowly, she knew Lucy loved coming like this, she loved having Leah’s fingers inside her when she came.

And the moan Lucy let out only spurred her on, she sucked and pumped hard into Lucy, in love with the moans that escaped Lucy’s mouth.

Lucy was finding it hard to keep her mouth on Leah, while she was fucking her like this.

“Lee, I can’t. I - I….can’t.”

“It’s okay Luce, let me take care of you.”

As Leah captured her lips back on Lucy’s swollen clit she felt Lucy’s hips thrust, her moans stuttering out. Leah pushed her fingers deep, hitting Lucy’s sweet spot.

The brunette squeezed Leah’s thighs, needing something to hold onto as her orgasm hit her hard, waves of pure bliss washed over her body.

Leah could hear Lucy coming, she smiled as she lapped at Lucy’s juices, swallowing what she could.

Lucy’s hips jolted, thrusting hard, pushing herself into Leah’s tongue, she moaned when she heard Leah slurping at her folds.

Lucy’s thrusting came to a slow stop. Her breathing escaping out in shorts burst, her limbs once more feeling heavy.

“God, your mouth is amazing.” Lucy’s voice was raspy and low.

The blonde smiled as she pressed light kisses to Lucy’s thighs, loving the way the girls body reacted to the touch.

Before Leah could respond her hips were being pulled down and her clit was being sucked by Lucy’s warm, wet mouth.

Leah bucked her hips into Lucy’s mouth, she was already feeling her orgasm build, it was already on the cusp. She could hear Lucy’s tongue, hear her swallowing Leah’s juices, it drove Leah into her own orgasm, it was fast but it was no less strong.

Leah screamed, grinding her hips, hard into Lucy’s face, at this point not caring if Lucy’s was struggling to breathe, her body needed Lucy’s tongue and she was going to get it.

She slowed her hips down, small shivers took over her body, she flopped to the left of Lucy, falling on the mattress.

“Don’t speak to me for an hour.” Leah blew back the hair out of her face, she was utterly wrecked.

Lucy laughed, she pushed herself on her elbows, she smiled as she looked over at the blonde. Leah was a beautiful site to see, her pussy and thighs glistening from her juices, her lips swollen and wet, from sucking on Lucy’s clit.

And this beautiful girl was now her girlfriend, Lucy had never been happier.

“Hey, do you fancy a shower? I’ll order us some food.”

Leah laid on her side, holding her head up by her hand. She looked over at Lucy, she couldn’t stop the smile that plastered her face. She couldn’t believe this gorgeous woman was officially her girlfriend, she actually got to call Lucy hers.

“Ohhh that sounds good, what do you fancy?”

Lucy smirked.

“You.”

Lucy dived forward, grabbing Leah, easily pulling her into her lap.

Leah laughed, she loved seeing this side of Lucy, it was a side many didn’t get to see.

Lucy captured Leah’s lips on her own, both humming happily.

“I fancy you, but I could also do with a burger.”

Leah chuckled and hummed in agreement.

“Same, burger sounds good. Just nothing with sauce or veg in mine, just a plain burger, with cheese.”

“Cool. I’ll order that now, you jump in the shower.”

“Okay, join me when you can.”

Lucy kissed Leah’s cheek as the blonde made her way to the shower.

Lucy glanced up, watching the blonde’s beautiful, perky arse walk out the door. She couldn’t help but bite her lip as the sight.

She jumped up, making her own way to the bathroom. Loving the squeak she got from

Leah as she grabbed her from behind

The burger could wait another 20 minutes.

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso #woso community #woso smut #lucy bronze #lucy bronze smut #woso fanfics #leah williamson smut #leah williamson

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discokicks · 8 months

Text

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life.

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it.

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.

me too.

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with.

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #bad ideas #the one who's not a loser but THEE loser #discowrites

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stargirlsturniololover · 3 months

Text

valentine

request: si😜from my rainbow nonnie

warnings: inappropriate jokes (it’s literally jake and johnnie), idk shy reader (she like never talks), platonic johnnie

summary: jake takes you and johnnie shopping for a video.

also: jake is steady yapping in this i’m so sorry

also also: i hate this☺️😊😁

also^3: it’s this bunny ☹️

also also also also: i named it after the laufey song cuz i had no idea what else to call this disaster.

fit check:

jake (IDC BRO I LOVE THIS FIT TOO MUCH)

johnnie

reader

jake webber x shy!coquette!reader

“what’s up guys… we’re here today at target to do some valentines day shopping!” jake yells at the camera, as you and johnnie stand on either side of him.

“and we have a guest, y/n… she isn’t cool and emo like us” johnnie voices, looking over at you as you shuffle awkwardly farther behind jake.

“johnnie, she’s cool because she isn’t emo bro,” jake mumbles, giving you a small smile.

“i actually think emos are cool,” you mumble as jake and johnnie both give you an appreciative nod and pat on the back.

“thanks baby….. also…. no johnnie and i are still not a lesbian couple, or latinas, or old women. also, y/n is not here to babysit us on our outting from the retirement home.” jake says, grabbing your hand and walking with you and johnnie into the store.

when the three of you waltz into target, jake grabs a buggie.

“so the first part of the store we’re hitting up is the food, obviouslyyyy” jake sing songs, pushing the buggie to where the food resides.

“what if i hit you up first…?” johnnie questions, smirking at jake.

“bro not in front of my girlfriend.” jake sighs, as you give a sheepish grin.

upon arriving at the food, the three of you spot a wall of different nerds clusters.

jake and johnnie turn to you, knowing how much you love them.

“bunnnyyy look, ‘s your favorite!” jake practically shouts, grabbing one of each flavor and color type.

“jake, you really don’t have to get me that many… ‘m ok with one bag.” you whisper, not wanting to cause a scene.

“c’mon y/n you know the second we get home you’re gonna put on your pajamas and down a bag of those cancer causing balls,” johnnie adds, laughing at how your face turns a deep shade of pink, and how he used the word “balls”.

“stop it man,” jake mumbles, as he rolls the cart to another aisle.

“ok so this aisle is filled with some target brand delicacies.” jake shouts, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera.

“MMM look at this, it’s strawberry white popcorn?? where’s the white coming from.” johnnie asks, turning to face you and jake.

“i can tell you where a different sort of white stuff comes from.” jake smirks, as johnnie guffaws.

you tug on jake’s arm as the johnnie cut the camera before the next section of the video.

“jake…?” you whisper up at him, as he bends down to be eye level with you.

“what’s wrong princess?” he questions, looking you over to make sure you’re alright.

“i gotta go to the bathroom, i’ll be right back… please don’t go off too far…” you mumble, not wanting to lose jake or johnnie.

“ok princess, we’ll stay right here.” he assures you, pressing a light kiss to your forehead as you make your way to the restroom.

after you peed and washed your hands, you adjusted the bow in your hair and made sure you looked perfect for the camera.

once you left the bathroom, you went back to where you left jake and johnnie, but they were nowhere to be found.

you then started to freak out because you specifically asked for jake to stay put.

you turn down the food aisle and head towards the decoration section.

as you round the corner, you heard the boys before you saw them.

you peeped around the corner and saw the two men playing around with some valentines themed game set.

“hi… ‘m back” you squeaked, coming to join them.

“baby… look what we found, johnnie and i figured you’d love it.” jake says as he picks up a giant stuffed bunny.

“oh jake…” you cried, running into his hold as the bunny was sandwiched between the two of you.

“it was mainly my idea y/n/n… just so we’re clear,” johnnie snickers as he zooms in on the two of you hugging.

you press your chin to jake’s sternum as you look up at him through thick eyelashes as johnnie cuts the camera for the final time.

“alright now let’s check out and go home so we can try all of our goodies!” johnnie hollers, pushing the buggie to the check out area.

“johnnie you go ahead, imma take y/n to the makeup aisle.” jake smiles, grabbing you by the waist and walking you to the makeup.

“thanks for coming with us to film today baby, i know you get camera shy,” jake thanks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“‘s no problem honey, i just love hanging out with you… i don’t care what we do.”

“oh stop, you’re making me blush,” jake giggles at your words as the two of you arrive at the makeup.

“i only need a few things,” you hum, already knowing exactly what you came here for.

after a couple minutes of you looking around and jake admiring you, you came across the mascara you needed all the way on the topmost shelf.

“jakey, c’mere,” you beckon jake over and point to the mascara you need.

“can you get that for me?” you ask sweetly, batting your lashes up at him.

“of course i can precious,” he says, leaning up and plucking the mascara off the shelf.

you smile at him as he hands you the mascara, “alrighty, we’re done over here.” you say, grabbing jake’s hand.

“we should probably go find johnnie before he gets kidnapped or something.” jake says, as the two of you start the walk to the checkouts.

“he’ll be fine for just one more second,” you say, stopping in your tracks, which causes jake to stop as well.

“mmm why angel, you know we can’t go trusting johnnie alone.”

“cause i wanna do this jake,” you hum, confidence overtaking you as you slip your arms around his shoulders and plant a kiss on his lips.

laughter is all you here when the two of you pull away to a camera right at your face.

“you…. sicko…..” you huff, chasing johnnie in circles.

jake giggles at his girlfriend and best friend’s antics, knowing he made the right choice to film today.

#jake webber #jake and johnnie #valentines day #laufey #jake webber x reader #jake webber x you #platonic!johnnie #johnnie guilbert <3 #Spotify

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seoafin · 1 year

Text

pairing: vash the stampede x fem!reader warnings/tags: jealous insecure vash, you get hit on twice, vash's pov gets kinda depressing, takes place before and after and I know it’s hard enough to love me, stampede coded vash word count: ~4.3k

Vash the Stampede is a complete enigma to you.

In the span of the four hours you’ve been following after the blonde, you’ve witnessed him get bullied and dragged around by a group of children who had unanimously decided to tie him up for fun, help a distressed woman find her poisonous pet gecko, and frantically try to explain his startling similarities to the humanoid typhoon to a threatening group of individuals who had cornered him on the street, loaded guns in their possession.

You watched him nervously laugh off their claims until they had left, one by one. Then he breathed a large sigh of relief, before meeting your eyes with a grin and two thumbs up.

He just can’t say no.

You’re still thinking about this troubling tendency of his when you slide off the rooftop, and twist through the alleys to the bar you had seen when you and Vash had first entered the town yesterday.

This time, he’s following you. He must have run out of people to help. All the way to the bar. And when you enter through the swinging entrance, you don’t need to turn around to hear the doors swing open again, not even seconds later.

Shouts ring throughout the bar, as several patrons happily greet him with a raised mug of beer and smiles. Already, he’s grown on people.

You slide onto a barstool. “I’ll have a drink,” you say, giving the idling bartender your order. The aged man proceeds to pull several bottles from the rack hanging behind him. You look over your shoulder to see Vash sitting down at a round table behind you. When he catches your gaze, he smiles, hand already lifting in an eager half wave as his fingers curl into air.

You don’t understand how he can look so happy to see you, as if you're an old friend he’s seeing for the first time in years, every time you meet his eyes. As if you haven’t been traveling together for the last few months. You've never stayed with an individual for longer than a week or two, other than your mother, but you know for sure Vash is strange. An outlier. You don’t understand how he constantly stays happy, upbeat and optimistic. No man is that happy, upbeat and optimistic. It’s suspicious.

The acrid scent of smoke and alcohol enters your nose before anything else, and then a hulking man with a bulbous nose is sidling up close to your side, despite the empty seats next to you. You ignore him as he gives you a long look up and down. The man in front of you mixing your drink gives him a distasteful glance.

A wide, crass grin stretches his face as he licks his lips.

“Yer a pretty thing, ain’t ya?”

You stare ahead. He’s not even worth brandishing your gun for.

He frowns when you don’t respond, trying again. “Whatcha doin’ in here, in this part of town? A lil’ lady like you is going to get eaten by the wolves.” He leans in close, and his breath fans against your cheek. You don’t bother to hide your distaste when he indiscreetly adjusts his pants. “I’ve got a place downtown…”

You’re going to shoot him, you decide.

Your hand goes to your side, but before you can remove your revolver, a blur of red rushes into the sliver of space between the two of you, forcibly separating the man from you. With his back to you, Vash lifts his hands in an act of surrender. The man tries to no avail to move towards you in either direction, but Vash swiftly meets him every time before he can step towards you.

“We—”

“What’s yer deal!?” The man asks angrily, drawing Vash close, hands fisted into his shirt, teeth gritted. Vash is taller than the man, so to see him tuck his knees inwards to be level with the man would be almost comical if you weren’t so annoyed.

A high pitched laugh escapes through his teeth. “Ahaha! About that—”

“She yours or somethin’!?”

Your already short patience stretches thin.

Panic floods his face as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Of course n—”

“Then it’s none of yer business anyhow,” he grouses, leaning in close. “Why dontcha butt out, and that way nobody gets hurt.”

“No,” Vash says firmly, unusually solemn, all pretenses of distress fading in a blink. He grabs the man’s arm with a steady hand of his own. “I can’t.”

You step to the side, and point your gun right at the man’s temple, already cocked. The bar quiets, eyes on your standoff. In your peripheral you can see multiple hands on belts, ready for a shootout. Vash’s eyes go wide, mouth agape as he looks at you. Then your gun. Then at you.

“Put him down,” you say plainly. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Yeah, put him down Eli!” A voice exclaims.

Others voice their agreement.

The man blinks. Then he throws his head back and uproariously laughs, fist loosening on Vash’s shirt, letting him down with a slump. “Playing with guns, little girl? Why don’t you come on over, I’ll teach you the right way—”

You aim down, and pull the trigger.

A single shot rings through the bar. The man shrieks in agony as the bullet goes through his foot, clean. You watch him jump around on one foot, holding his other foot in his hands, crying out for help as blood gets everywhere. What a mess. The bartender only shakes his head as people begin to surround the hollering man. You think he might as well kill himself now. Not a single survival instinct. The last thing he should be doing after a bullet wound is moving around like a headless lizard.

You throw a sack of coins on the bar. The drink you hadn’t even gotten and damages to the floor. You grab Vash by the hood of his red coat and drag him out the bar as he gawks at you. You drop him outside and start towards the town’s caravan stop. In a few seconds, Vash has caught up with you, side by side.

He looks troubled. Lost in thought.

“I didn’t kill him,” you say. Although you probably would have not even three months ago. That would have ensured you wouldn’t be bothered in the town again by a handsy drunk.

You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself. You figure you can’t keep silent when he’s looking at you like that , waiting for some kind of explanation that you would usually never entertain.

“Should I have let him all over me?” You ask tonelessly.

The snaps him back to attention. “No! It’s just…” he sounds unsure, almost uneasy. “You were just…protecting yourself.”

You wonder what kind of life he’s led. To be able to be the way he is. A pacifist, in this world. Someone who refuses to pull the trigger on his .45 long colt unless absolutely necessary.

“Not everybody gets to choose to not kill,” you reply, not as curt as you could be. “Some people don’t have a choice.” Not everybody has the strength to protect themselves without violence. Sometimes, it’s just survival. The choice between you or them. Sometimes, it wasn’t anything more than that. No hard feelings. The second your hands had touched your revolver, you had gained your footing in the world. The gun, the great equalizer. And in your hands, death.

You never had a choice. And then you did.

Vash’s face falls. “I…I see.”

You find yourself searching for words, anything at all to wipe the miserable expression on his face away. “I didn’t kill him,” you say slowly. “But I could have.”

He lifts his head, blinking. “You… could have,” he repeats.

You don’t say that had the man come any closer, if he had touched you, you would’ve put a bullet in his head, right through his brain. And then you would’ve let the animals have him.

Vash slowly regains his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But you didn’t.”

Although the smile on his lips often seems more trained than instinctual, a defense tactic, you can’t deny that in the end, a smile suits his face much more.

“I can take care of myself,” you say, fixing your gaze straight ahead.

He hums. “I know.”

You sigh.

“Over here!” Tony exclaims, wildly waving at Vash for a pass.

Vash kicks the ball over, watching as the other children surround the freckled short boy, eager to steal the ball back to their side. They had divided the teams seven to three, the children citing that the team with Vash on their side had the upper hand, therefore it was only fair for the teams to be unevenly divided. Vash had no qualms with it, neither did Tony or Sonya, who had grabbed Vash by the arm (shorter frame pulling him down to her level) and declared that the next victory would be theirs.

He can’t help himself. He looks towards where you’ve been sitting by the benches in front of the town square’s fountain, watching him kick around a ball for the better half of the hour with the town kids, unmoving, except for the small curve of your lips. Vash can tell when your gaze is on him. Some eighth sense that also has him gravitating towards your orbit, unconsciously and consciously. His feet take him to you, wherever you are. Lucky for him, nowadays, he doesn’t need to walk more than a couple steps to reach you.

Usually you’d be gone, taking care of your own business while he explored the town or city, and its inhabitants, before the inevitable bounty hunter or criminal looked a bit too closely to his face, his red jacket, and made the connection. Maybe you’d stop by the sheriff’s office, flashing your identification badge, and then flip through recent wanted posters. Maybe you’d get a bite to eat. Then you’d just follow the bullets and the trail of destruction to easily meet up with him.

He never knew definitively. You had never really answered his curiosity with more than a noncommittal comment or two. It doesn’t matter now though, because now you stay with him.

The sun looks good on you. He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until a ball hits him smack in the face and drops to the ground, leaving him with a sore, red face and a bruised nose. The kids startle to a stop, gawking at him with wide mouths. There’s silence, and then raucous laughter.

“Vash!”

“Is he okay?”

“C’mon Vash, you lost the ball!”

“It hit him in the face, did you see that?”

“That’s a foul! You did that on purpose Lock!”

“Nu-uh!”

He sees you shake your head, amused, and knows that the warmth he feels isn’t entirely from the sun.

Tony runs towards him, ball held against his chest, breathless. The blue cap he wears is askew. Vash fixes it for straight. “You alright, Vash?”

Vash runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “No harm done,” he says cheerfully. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention, sorry about that!”

Sonya looks concerned. “Don’t worry about that! It’s all Lock’s fault anyway!” She turns around, sticks a finger under her eye, pulling it down, and blows a raspberry. “You’re horrible Lock!”

The older boy returns it with a raspberry of his own, and then crosses his arms. “He should’ve been looking in the first place, instead of at his girlllllfriend!”

Sonya’s eyes are wide as he feels his face go red. He nervously tugs at the collar of his shirt. The kids gathered around him erupt into laughter again. A quick glance in your direction, and he sees the raise of your eyebrow, lips tight in suppressed laughter he wishes he was there to hear.

“Is it true?” She asks him, brown doe eyes wide. “Is she your—” her voice drops conspiratorially “— girlfriend?”

He sticks a hand in the girl’s hair and gives her a good natured ruffle as she giggles. “Something like that,” he says, despite the elation that fills his stomach, to avoid fully answering the question, as if speaking whatever fragile thing the two of you have into existence might permanently alter it.

Girlfriend.

What a mundane word for something as all consuming as the love he feels for you. He feels as if his chest might just burst with it all. But he can say that now, call you his in some way that makes him both terrified of overstepping his bounds and even more terrified of you leaving.

“Hey Vash,” Tony says, insistently tugging on the sleeve of his coat. “There’s a guy chattin’ up your girl!”

You aren’t happy. That he can see clearly. Your expression has shuttered as a man closes into you with a wide smirk, overtaking his view of you. The last thing Vash can see is your thoroughly unamused expression.

He’s not aware of his feet taking him towards you. He doesn’t think. All he sees is how the man rests a hand on the holster of the gun attached to his hip, as if flourishing it, and he’s moving.

“A good ole’ romp in the bed is what you need,” he hears the man remark vulgarly. “Promise, it’ll fix you right up.”

“No,” you reply bluntly.

His cocksure grin fades with a scowl. “Now, don’t be like that. Nobody likes stubborn broads. I’ll be sure to show you a good time.”

An arm reaches out to roughly grab you, but Vash reaches him first, the metal of his left hand wrapping around the man’s wrist, tightening. The man yelps.

Vash blinks at the noise. You stare, looking at him with your head slightly tilted to the side.

He tears his arm back so quickly it gives him whiplash. His hands are automatically raised in a show of harmlessness as he nervously laughs.

He hadn’t meant to grip him that tightly .

Unless… he had.

The man’s face is bright red in anger, looking at his left arm as if it’s the devil. “Who do you think you are!?”

Vash shifts ever so slightly to keep his arm out of view. It’s been a while since he’s been so self conscious. People asked questions, and sometimes they looked at him funny. It used to hurt his feelings, the way he was looked at as an outsider, even though he was. The rest of No Man’s Land wasn’t like the inhabitants of ship No. 3, who knew his origins. His identity as a plant.

Now it’s a constant reminder of it. Of Nai. Of their first of many confrontations a hundred years ago.

He’s not human, not like the man in front of him. Not like you.

You stand, asserting yourself into the space between him and the man. You give him a dismissive look, before grabbing him by the left hand, and turning on your heels, pulling him along. Your fingers squeeze his metallic fingers in a way that shoots sparks up his arm, right to his heart. As you drag him along the kids holler their goodbyes, and all he can do is smile, wave back, and follow. He’d follow you anywhere, he thinks, easily keeping up with your pace. To the ends of No Man’s Lands to space and back.

He wonders if you’re angry. If you’re annoyed at his intervention. He hadn’t meant to be so…forward. His body had moved before he could think.

But…you’re…you’re his now, aren’t you? You kissed him, held his face between your hands, and smiled. You don’t smile a lot, but you smile for him. He thinks that if anything, that means the most. When he told you he wasn’t human you readily accepted it, as if you had been expecting it. Then you asked him if it hurt when Nai had cut off his arm, and when he told you he hadn’t felt much of anything, really, from the shock, because he was a plant, you had frowned and told him to stop lying.

Now, the two of you sleep together. You let Vash hold you in his arms, and he tucks you into the crook of his neck, and you don’t even complain when he locks you in his embrace, even though you could. Even if you could leave. And on nights he can’t fall asleep, terrified that in the morning you’ll have been nothing but a fantasy, he counts your soft slow breaths in his neck until the sun rises, the seconds until you wake up and give him that sleepy smile he likes to think is reserved just for him.

So now Vash stands closer to you than he had ever previously dared. In larger cities with crowds, he’s right at your side in the bustle taking the brunt of the jostling as you lead the way. And when there are no locals to make conversation with, no children to entertain, he trails after you, wherever your whims take you. You like heights. Rooftops. High vantage points from where you can look down. He thinks it makes you feel safer. You’ve always been aware of his presence, even though you never used to acknowledge him. Now you do. Now you let him hold your hand, and he doesn’t feel like Vash the Stampede, whose sins stare back at him every time he catches his face in a reflection, but a man hopelessly in love.

You push him up against a wall in an abandoned alley, and he relishes in the close proximity, smiling dumbly when you lean into him. He’s not expecting you to kiss him, but it sure would be nice—

Until he remembers that you might be mad. That he had accidentally hurt that man. The yelp that had been twisted out of him. The smile promptly falls from his face.

“I—uh—”

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Of course I am,” he says cheerily, but all he can think about is that man reaching for you, the gleam of desire in his eyes (directed towards you ), and his two whole arms (one more arm to hold you with), and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach, a wretched miserable thing that hovers a bit too close to the surface of his face. “Just fine!”

Your eyes narrow, just imperceptibly, while you scrutinize him in silence. His gaze momentarily darts away, fleeing, and then back, to see that you’re still staring at him, eyebrows furrowed as if you’re trying your best to think of something to say. Words don’t really come easy to you. Vash thinks it’s cute, that thinking silence of yours, where he can almost see the gears in your head turning as you struggle for an empathetic response after years of curt silences and dry one worded responses.

You purse your lips, bottom lip jutting out ever slightly.

Cute.

“Liar.” You glance down at his left arm, and Vash resists the urge to hide the prosthesis behind him.

A shadow falls on your face as you look down. “Is it me?”

“No!” He blurts out. Guilt churns in his gut, and he’s not sure if it’s because he hurt that man or because he isn’t sorry. He wants to say that he didn’t mean to, but that would be another lie. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him badly. Just… enough that he’d leave you alone. That he’d stop looking at you like that as if he wasn’t there. There was already someone by your side.

“I shouldn’t have hurt him,” he says finally. He can’t help himself when he adds, a touch defensively, “But he shouldn’t have been…” Vash feels a rush of heat reach his ears from your discerning gaze. “He…” almost touched you. He would’ve yanked you up, been rough with you, and just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean that it’s okay. Sometimes, he thinks you’re too used to it. Every night he counts the scars on your body with the same tenderness you’ve afforded him, that he doesn’t deserve, and he feels his heart weigh heavier.

Vash would never forgive himself if you got harmed on his watch.

You look up at him. “He…?”

He isn’t…getting ahead of himself is he?

He loves you, and not a night goes by where he doesn’t think it. He’s loved you since the night you pulled him close and kissed him. He’s loved you since the moment he realized that the silence wasn’t so bad, so lonely, when he had someone to share it with.

He had assumed he meant as much to you as you do to him—

Your lips twitch into a small smile, and the sight stops his thoughts. You step closer and bury your face into his neck. His arms automatically wrap around you as he relaxes into your body, smiling at the ground.

“I love you,” you murmur, so soft that even his ears strain to hear it. He doesn’t even have the time to feel giddy before you pull back, reach for his neck, and bring his lips to yours.

He’s eager to reciprocate. The worry that maybe he’s holding you tightly around the waist doesn’t even strike him until a second later, but by then you’re happily exhaling into his mouth, and raking your fingernails down the back of his neck until he’s shuddering into you.

You back him against the wall without a missed beat and he happily follows. One of your hands snakes down to his prosthetic, entwining your fingers together. He gives your hand a squeeze back and when you smile against his lips, he knows that it’s the most lovely sight he’s ever seen. The first time he had ever seen you smile, it had invoked the same amazement and wonder in him as seeing Rem’s red geraniums for the first time.

But you aren’t a flower to be gazed at and plucked by curious onlookers. This smile is just for him. And Vash thinks, once again, for the fifth time in a day that hasn’t ended, that as much as he loves you, he also doesn’t deserve you.

He’ll tell you again tonight. This time, while you’re awake. Not…everything. Not enough that it could scare you away. Just enough, like how he likes gazing at you when the sun hits your bare frame in the scarce mornings the two of you have a bed, or the way your eyes light when they meet his, after a few hours apart. How it makes him feel…

Like a child again. Happy. The world at his fingertips. In the bed he and Nai would share, watching clips of some old earth movie underneath the covers. In Rem’s hugs, his arms wrapped around her neck, clinging to her tightly, as if she might disappear if he opened his eyes. The sound of her laughter in his ears. Lovely and fleeting.

Pressed against him, all the warmth of your body and lips, a breathy moan builds up in his throat as you have your way with him. As selfish as it seems, he wants more. As much as you’re willing to give. As much as he dares to take. He likes the way you say his name, especially when you’re in the throes of pleasure, when you’re looking down at him with so much love that he’s choking on his words, and his chest aches with it.

Someone giggles.

You separate, your lips enticingly spit slicked and swollen, your thumb tracing the underneath of his right eye. You like his beauty mark, have remarked on it more than once, the color of his eyes, and every other part of him that makes him flush from head to toe. He knows he’s not much to look at, but every part of him, except his burdens, belong to you. And if you can find something worthwhile to look at when you look at him other than disgust and horror, then that’s more than enough.

He lets his arms fall from your waist as you step away, and he already misses your closeness.

“Children shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” you say coolly, but not coldly. There’s a glint in your eyes as heads pop up from the crates towards the back of the alley.

“We were just making sure everything was okay!” Tony exclaims, running up to you. He grins knowingly at Vash and attempts a wink.

You raise an eyebrow.

Sonya approaches, dragging Lock with her. “ And Lock wanted apologize for hittin’ Vash in the face!”

“Wha—!?” Lock sputters, looking at the girl in betrayal. “Sonya!” He squints at the ground. “...Sorry.”

Vash kneels down. “Apology accepted,” he says softly, a smile on his lips. He’s a good kid. So are all the kids in this town. Sonya with her ever present glowing smile. Tony and his mischievous wit. The blue cap he doesn’t go without. Lock and his grudges which hide a large, genuine heart. Billy and Mary and Kirk and everyone else.

Vash is almost tempted to stay a couple more nights, but he knows he can’t. Not with Nai having been spotted to the South. Another plant stolen, more fatal casualties. He has to leave before there are more. If he were a better person, he’d leave you behind. He stares at the ground.

He briefly feels the weight of your gaze. You gather the kids’ attention.

“You kids hungry?”

Tony and Sonya and Lock perk up.

“I am!” Tony says.

“You’re always hungry!” Sonya scowls.

“Are you the one with the money?” Lock asks. “Cuz’ Vash is broke.”

That draws a huff of laughter from you as Vash smiles sheepishly, pushing the worries plaguing his mind away for now. Until night falls upon No Man’s Land, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms. That’s when he’ll worry about whether or not he deserves to be happy with you.

Sonya reaches up to grab your hand with a big smile. You glance at him.

“Any good pizza places around here?”

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #m.trigun #safe house

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genshin-scenarios · 8 months

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do clothes make the person? (lyney x gn reader)

Summary: …Lyney dresses up in a skirt and leotard, while practicing for another switch-up trick with Lynette. That’s the basic premise. Enjoy!

Notes: This is still SFW but uh… Rated teens and up, just to be safe (a lot of flirting)

Throughout his career, and for the purpose of pulling off impossible feats of magic onstage, Lyney has garnered quite a range of props and outfits to suit his purposes.

The first time you learn of him and Lynette swapping places, you’ve only seen his sister dressing up as him, and joked that perhaps you’d be whisked away by the more level-headed version of Lyney that stands before you (Lynette, still in disguise, looped her elbow with yours and said in deadpan to her brother that the two of you would be going now.)

Suffice to say she was hoping to escape from practice to go buy some desserts, and you were happy to oblige. Lyney hadn’t let either of you forget that betrayal ever since, ever one to play on dramatics just for an excuse to tug on your wrist and demand your attention. Behind those theatrics however is the relief of a brother who’s glad his very-important significant other gets along well with his very-important sister, even if it was at the expense of himself sometimes.

In today’s practice however, Lynette is the one who required a double, and so you found Lyney in their room still in a leotard and skirt. He noticed you entering, and with a quick decision made in the flicker of his eyes, settled into a monotone expression. Posture relaxed, lazily glancing over at you - in this moment, Lyney truly seemed like a cat.

“If you’re looking for my brother, he already left.”

“I already saw Lynette as I was coming in.” You inform, walking over to tidy the props left on the table. You look over at Lyney from over your shoulder, trying to control the quirk of your lips at the sight of his pout. “Were you hoping to get some secrets out of me? Asking how I really feel about you?”

“I didn’t think that far, but now when you put it like that… How could I not be curious?” Lyney makes his way over to you, capturing you in a hug from behind as he rests his head on your shoulder. He starts using his body weight to tilt the both of you towards the side, dangerously close to falling.

“Lyney.”

“Yes?”

“Please stop swaying around, we’re going to—”

Without letting you finish your sentence, Lyney suddenly pulls you against him as he makes the both of you fall towards the ground. Panic surges through you as you feel your feet slipping from under you, only for Lyney to cushion your fall with his body. He’s trying his best not to laugh at the shriek you let out earlier, while you try to resist the urge to strangle him there and then.

“You— Stop laughing!” You grab his wrists; connected to the offenders that pulled you down with him seconds ago, and drag Lyney into a sitting position. “We could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I wouldn’t have let you get hurt.” Lyney gives you an affectionate smile, which would’ve been sweet had it not been for his actions just moments before. “And look, I’ve got you on my lap now. Not quite as fun as hearing you divulge everything you love about me, but a close second.”

“Try saying that without the cat ears and tail.” Keeping the annoyance in your tone, you reach up to take them off his head. It’s just a cleverly hidden headband, but you remember Lyney mentioning how it’d start to hurt if he wore it for too long. “Are these clothes not uncomfortable?”

Lyney’s eyes are shut, leaning against your touch as you ruffle his hair out of its braid. The ash-blonde strands are soft beneath your fingers. “Mmm, not exactly. It’s not like men have never worn leotards, you know. There are appropriate clothes for it.” His lashes flutter open once you retract your hands, violet gaze soft. “Not going to help me rebraid it?”

“I might mess it up.” You say. Lyney hums at the rebuff, unbuckling the belt that holds his tail. He offhandedly tosses it to the side, and just as you let your guard down, he’s quick to pick you up from below your thighs and pull you even closer to him. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist to get some balance, but immediately after, you realize your compromising position and freeze. “...You’re an absolute sadist.”

“I just want you near,” Lyney smiles innocently, cupping your face in his hands. Despite how his words sound, he honestly just likes physical affection. The horrible blush burning on your ears is just an added bonus. “I’ll let you go after a hug.”

“Promise?”

“Mmhm.”

Watching Lyney carefully, you finally let yourself rest your head in the crook of his neck, arms looping around him. He’s quick to melt into the gesture; at times, hugs could be seen as a test of trust. It was hard for one to see the expression on the other party’s face or be aware of their surroundings when positioned like this. Is it odd for Lyney to feel comfortable despite the slight feeling of anxiety that comes with it? He never lets hugs last for too long, though - lest something actually sneak up from the shadows and he’s too late to protect you both.

By the time he’s finally in his normal clothes, Lyney’s leading you through the streets of Fontaine with your hand in his, claiming there’s a really good restaurant he discovered lately. (In truth, it’s just another excuse to intertwine your fingers.)

You do have to admit - it is cute when he hooks your pinkies together while talking to a fan or acquaintance, swinging it between you both just subtly enough so that no one would notice. Just like how you hadn’t noticed the addition of a tiny magenta ribbon tied to a small lock of your hair. It sits comfortably at the back of your head, so Lyney doubts you’d notice unless you tried combing through it.

Not to mention, it matches his colors! Call him a hopeless romantic, but Lyney thinks the sight of you both together like this is quite endearing, if he says so himself.

#genshin x reader #lyney x reader #lyney genshin impact #lyney x you #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #genshin reader insert #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin writing #traveler wishes

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azurlily · 2 months

Note

Hi idk how full your inbox is but I’d like to ask for Makima with a Chihuahua like reader (short and agressive and bratty basically) could it also be nsfw also thank you

Woooo! I've been thinking about this one for a bit. Makima is just like the perfect person for a brat, you cannot tell me otherwise. I made this sort of toxic because I honestly believe that any relationship with cannon Makima is gonna be fucked up in some way. If yall want non-toxic just say that in the request.

Makima x Bratty!Reader NSFW

"Do you enjoy you life, little red? Do you enjoy the things I buy you and the way I treat you?"

Makima enjoyed asking rhetorical questions a lot, especially when she was mad. That usually means you had to make her mad first, and despite her calm demeanor: it's fairly easy to anger her. A few snide comments here, a few too rough arm pulls there, maybe you decided to play around with Power or Denji.

In the end, you fucked up in some way, you fucked up so badly that she's completely lost it. Although...you enjoy that dont you? You enjoy when Makima has to grab you by the neck and practically hurl you into another room. You love when her hands find their way up your skirt; it's a warning, it always is.

Makima is by no means a kind woman. In fact she's the complete opposite of kind, she's mean, harsh, rough, and fucking cruel. Makima us a naturally sadistic person -not with everyone, you just fucked up somehow and she knew you were the one.

Now that you think about one of the subtlety not so kind things shes done is give you a nickname. "Little red". To her it's a way of making fun of you. You're easy o annoy(not that she isn't either because of you) and you face gets red when you're mad. The "little" part is solely because of your height, she enjoys reminding you every so often.

"If I pull out the gag will you respond the right way?"

You were essentially being told to watch your fucking mouth, or else. And you, ever the fucking idiot: didn't think twice when the ball gag was taken out.

"I thought you'd be angrier, I guess you really have gone soft, Miss Control Devil."

Oh, now you remember how you got here: you continued to run your mouth after she gave you two strikes.

The first strike was because when Denji told you that Power let him grope her. You very loudly said, "Wow I wonder if she'll let me do it too?!"

Of course you wouldn't, you're not Denji, you value your and Powers too. That was all it took though, you knew Makima was watching, she was always watch you. And when you were called up to her office and told to sit in a corner, and help her do paperwork for an hour you wonder if you made the right choice.

The second strike was not long after, you decided you were thirsty and begged Makima to let you grab a drink from.the vending machine downstairs. After you were pleading for ten minutes: she relented.

You practically ran downstairs, but once you were down there you realised you were alone. You remembered that there was a nice coffee shop not too far from here, she wouldn't mind if you got her something right? You went straight to the coffe shop, you knew by now there was something watch you. Not that it mattered!

"Maki! I got you a drink-please don't be mad!"

Were the first words that left your mouth once you walked in, and as you set the drink down you felt a small warmth in your stomach. That look, she's mad, not pissed but you're sure as hell in trouble...maybe. And of course that look turns you on, she looks so fucking hot when shes mad. When she looks like she wants to eat you alive.

If there was one thing in the relationship between you two that you hated it was your beight difference. Makima isn't all that tall, and yet you're right at chest level. Sometimes it's hot, sometimes it's fun. Other times you remember just how fucking intimidating she can be.

"Hey...so y'know I never noticed how tall-"

"Strike two. Give me the drink and get back to the paperwork."

You put the drinks down and feel a hand on your arm, Makima gently pulls you closer. Until you're in her lap and your head is pressed ever so gently to her neck. You smile when you feel her kiss your neck, at the end of the day you matter most.

"Do you enjoy patronizing me? Or are you mad because of the. . .Denji thing?"

That's what you labeled it, and you refused to refer to what she's doing as anything else.

"Oh no, I mean give him all the attention you want. I was talking to Quanxi though-"

That did it, you were flipped over and slammed into the part of the desks without the drinks on it. You could feel the murderous intent coming off of her.

"Really? Her. Is she the hill you wish the be killed on, little red? I can assure you it will happen if you keep this up."

You tried and failed to turn your head, instead just giggle like a little girl.

"Oooh, is she a threat to you or something? I mean she and her girls are hot but-"

Makima flips you over so you're facing her, if looks could kill you'd be dead thrice over. You smile, this- this is what you needed for days. And finally she's giving it, finally.

You open your eyes, coming back to here and now.

Yeah that got you dragged onto her desk. You feel a hand wrap around her neck roughly; she's doing this to test you limits. Makima presses her body against yours, she looks at you for a few moments. Finally taking time to admire her handiwork, you look so fucking beautiful.

A red-ish orange rope was wrapped beautifully around your skin, the rope held your hands and arms back as well as wrapped around your tits. You weren't naked, but seeing as you were in a nice set of lingerie Makima buys for these occasions, you aren't exactly dresses either.

Within it all you were originally wearing a red ball gag that was now covered in spit. And the best part? A small, ruby red plug was set inside your ass. And of course a small bullet vibrator that Makima had set to one, although now she's regretting not just leaving it on five and walking out.

"Every. Single. Fucking. Time. I think were making progress, and then you go a do this. At this point I feel inclined to ask: do you enjoy being punished?"

You knew the answer just as much as she does: fuck yes. Makima wants to hear it, she wants the words to leave your tear stained face. C'mon say it for her, wont you?

As you begin to answer, Makima turn the vibrator up to three. Oh, she wants you fucked.

"Y-yes!"

Makima looks down with a smile, she's enjoying this past sexual gratification. She enjoys seeing you so dependent on her, so needy. And despite how much you act out: you'll be in her bed each nice. So it doesn't matter anyways.

"Yes what, little red? I need specifics."

Oh this bitch.

"F-fuck you, you can't make me say shit!"

That did it for her. Makima backs away slowly, her hands going to her temples. She looks back and you and then the clock in the room, she has a meeting and an hour. That's plenty of time to handle this. But before that-

"What's your color?"

"Green."

One word, yet it completely determines how this hour will go.

"Good girl, good girl. If only you could respond this swiftly all the time."

Makima takes a few things from her desk: a bigger vibrator, a blindfold, and a strap-on.

"Remember, what happens next is your fault, little red."

I'm sorry it's not great, I just wanted to finish this as soon as possible!

#wlw #lesbian #im bad at this #women are hot #kinda toxic #chainsaw man #makima smut #makima x reader #makima #fem reader #brat reader #nsft

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banjomelodies · 7 months

Text

I see a lot of people on Tiktok get mad at Lyney and Lynette for supposedly not having a super close relationship to Freminet, but like..

I feel like they do have a close relationship to him. I've never seen them actively try to ignore or shut out Freminet like some Tiktok Freminet fans would make you believe.

People forget that Lyney and Lynette are TWINS. Blood-related twins. And they're also bonded by trauma on top of that. Them being closer to each other than with Freminet would be a given. They've experienced the horrors and joys of the world together, and met Freminet during that journey. Their relationship with eachother would always be different than what their relationship with Freminet would be like. But that doesn't mean they don't care about Freminet, either:

Just by looking at their voiceovers, implications in character stories, and how they interact in official videos.. they do care A LOT about Freminet. Is it the same level of constant and consistent checking-in that two traumatized twins do? No! But that doesn't mean Freminet is unloved! And a good way to see that is just by looking at Freminets opinions on them.

These are his opinions about Lyney.

Lyney shows Freminet every single new card trick he comes up with, the second Freminet cracks the smallest smile, Lyney knows his tricks are going to be great. Lyney is happy that he could make Freminet actually feel joy! Lyney also goes out of his way to go to Freminet, and show him new material he's working on. If he didn't care about Freminet, why would he even bother trying to get his opinions, or trying to make him smile?

And the second one, about Lyneys mask. Freminet is a character that hardly speaks his own mind because he doesn't like the awkwardness that comes from it (teapot conversations prove that), but he's clearly comfortable enough around Lyney that he was able to walk up and try having this conversation with him, despite knowing it likely wouldn't end well. If him and Lyney had a dirt poor relationship, Freminet likely would've never tried to initiate the conversation in the first place.

This is his opinion about Lynette.

He does say something about how Lyney and Lynette always work better and smoother with eachother, and that he can't do the same. But Lynette tries to cheer him up when he's down on himself. She tries to tell him that everyone has their own strengths, and that this doesn't mean anything regarding his usefulness, especially with his skills in machinery that nobody else in the orphanage has. Lynette does care about him!

(the part that cut off would be this: "Here, have mine too." Said Lynette as she filled his cup with tea, "We're family.")

And this is from Freminets character stories.

Freminet expresses obvious doubt of his place there. Lyney and Lynette are two siblings who practically can read each other's minds, they always know how to speak and interact with eachother, and it'd obviously bother Freminet, who's self-worth is already incredibly low, on how he thinks he'd just be an extra part left to waste in comparison to the two.

But Lyney and Lynette both go right in with including him. Lyney gives him and Pers a crucial role in their plans, and Lynette offers him her food and more tea, while straight up telling him that they're family now. If they didn't have any interest in trying to treat Freminet like family, they both could've easily let him fall into the role of just an extra piece in the corner to call upon when needed, but they didn't.

And. To add on!

Lyneys video:

---

Lynettes video:

Freminets Video:

The three of them all cameo in eachothers videos, Lyney and Lynette both do rehearsals in front of Freminet and regularly ask him for opinions, and Freminet wants Pers to be part of their show!!

Stop saying Lyney and Lynette don't like Freminet, Tiktok!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact lyney #lynette #freminet #i wont deny that Freminet HIMSELF probably feels more isolated from the two #But thats trauma and poor self-worth talking #Freminet is unfortunately always going to feel as if hes just an unneeded piece if he isnt useful #its something he needs to work on #and Lynette and Lyney are the only two positive pieces in his life that'll help him work on it

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 6 months

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What It Is to "See" in Trigun

"You can really lose yourself in that blue sky... Ah... There I go again. Rem... It's silly, isn't it... that I'm still thinking about... how I want to show it to you."

The theme of sight, showing, and eyes comes up quite a lot in Trigun. This isn't exactly an in-depth analysis, more just an examination of what "seeing" really is, at least in the context of this manga.

A notable recurring thing that happens in many of Knives' scenes is the obscuring of eyes and faces, either others (Vash, usually) or his own.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 7. One is of young Knives, his hand obscuring most of his face. His thumb is bleeding from where he's bitten it, and it streaks blood next to his open left eye. The other is also of young Knives, his face shadowed dramatically. His right eye is closed and crying. His left is wide open, ringed in darkness and blood from where his thumb has trailed down his face. End ID.]

The obscuring of one eye in the scene where Knives decides to crash the ships makes it so he only looks through one of his eyes - or, like he is only seeing one perspective, or one side to things. Knives, in his fear and anger, blinds himself to seeing anything other than what he already expects. In the second image, he is torn between a closed crying eye and a wide open one, dragging blood down the side of his face. He chooses the path of blood over tears, and refuses to change this from this point on.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. A younger Legato leans over with a stricken expression. His right eye is obscured by his hair as tears spill from his right. End ID.]

As a bonus note, Legato's hair often conceals that same eye that Knives has obscured on himself, perhaps a visual representation of not only him also seeing only one path forward, but also that his path is one of devotion to Knives. Elendira's hair does much the same.

We also have the cult known as the Eye of Michael - "Eye", which counter to its name, actually blinds its disciples into again, only seeing one perspective - looking through only one eye. Half of Chapel's face is frequently shadowed. In the "shoot" scene, only Wolfwood's left eye is fully visible - as, even though he makes a definite point, he himself is genuinely rather hopeless at this point, only seeing one path and one perspective.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 2. From a slightly overhead perspective, Wolfwood pulls the gun Vash is holding and aims it at his own head. Only his left eye is visible. End ID.]

It's why it's pretty significant that we start to see both his eyes in Volumes 9 and 10, and why I think it matters that he died with his eyes open.

Livio and Razlo are interesting in this regard too. Split between the two eyes, Livio with his obscured right eye and Razlo with his exposed left. When Livio cuts his hair, his eye becomes more visible, like something of a balancing - but it doesn't end there. Throughout the fight against Elendira, when the two are working together, both their eyes can be seen. They even do a switch, with Razlo being shown on the right, and Livio on the left, as if to show, through their conversation, that they have learned to see each other's perspectives better, and work as a team - they have learned to "see through each other's eyes".

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. The first is Razlo shown from the right, eye wide and grinning as he rushes forwards. The second is Livio shown from the left, sweating in exertion. End ID.]

Speaking of seeing through other's eyes, we have Hoppered and Meryl's unwilling vision of Vash's memories, which, while incredibly traumatic, also gave them a new perspective they otherwise couldn't have had. This moment is actually key for Meryl to understand Vash as a person on a deeper level, to communicate what she knows about him to others, and to understand why he felt like he had to do everything alone... so that she could make it clear that he no longer had to.

Meryl and Vash, in particular, share in that painful past, and have come to the same conclusion about it - things take time to heal, but it's always worth it to try, and to work with others to bring a brighter world about.

This "seeing the world through another's eyes" is a running theme all throughout the story, and it's the reason for the first quote at the beginning of this write-up.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 7. Young Vash stares, eyes wide, as Rem cries and says to him, "Let's see the world together, let's walk through it together. Because the world... I swear, it's not just full of worthless people." End ID.]

Vash doesn't just want Rem to see the beautiful blue sky, he wants to see it with her, because that was what he needed when he was a young kid, fresh from the trauma of discovering Tesla, and unable to see the good in the world all alone. He needed another perspective, someone who could show him something other than hopelessness and fear. Instead, he had to force himself to search for it alone.

When he wants to show Rem that blue sky, it's because he wants to show her he's found something worthwhile and good. Just like she promised. It's not all awful.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 10. Amidst two panels of Vash's outstretched hand and Wolfwood falling towards him, on a white background, he thinks "That's why, after everything's been said and done, I wanted to see tomorrow with him. Isn't that right... Wolfwood?" End ID.]

When he wants to "see" tomorrow with Wolfwood, it's a promise of sticking together and of continuing to offset each other's perspectives - they trust each other to be their other set of eyes that makes seeing the hope in the world, and other pathways and options and interpretations different from their own just that much easier. Vash sees a future and a hope outside of fighting Knives through Wolfwood, something he previously could not do.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 14. Ethereal looking feathers fall over a crowd of civilians, who look upwards at them with varying expressions of shock and curiosity. End ID.]

And when the Plants share their memories with humans, and the humans respond with tears, it's the ultimate culmination of what it is to "see" in Trigun - to see is to understand another's story and their personal plight.

To see is to understand is to hope for the better for yourself and for others, and that puts you on the path to slowly but surely healing. To making a change for the better, to finding that light in the dark. That blank ticket.

#storyrambles #i think this one got away from me guys. sorry if it doesn't make sense. sigh.#trigun #trimax #trigun spoilers #trigun meta #trigunbookclub #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.

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fvck-the-rest · 7 months

Text

Comfort in a Freind

Highschool!Nanami Kento x GN! reader

word count: 2612

/warnings/ nanami being soft for reader, season two spoilers, slow burn

This was not how this mission was supposed to go, it was supposed to be only a second level curse, not a local deity. Why did it have to be them that went to go deal with it, did noone go and make sure that the curse was what it was supposed to be? How did it all happen? What happened while they were out there on the mission? How was Haibara killed and what did it take for Nanami to be able to come back alive with Haibara?

Why? Why? WHY? Was all you would think about right now. You had yet to even go find the other first years. You were supposed to go with them, but the higher-ups decided that only two people were needed for this mission.

What if you went? Would they be okay? Would you be dead, would you all live? You could not stop the spiral that you were going down. Nothing could pull you out of it. Every way that you thought maybe it would have been different and that you three would still be alive right now and they would tell you all about the mission and how it went and that maybe they were able to do something that they haven’t been able to before.

You were standing in your dorm when you figured out what had happened. Shoko had come to find you and tell you in person, neither of you thought that you would stand in silence in front of her. Shoko has assumed that you would run to go find the other two and make sure that it was true yourself. But here you were, standing in the doorway without a word, without a single tear. Everything was numb and there was nothing you could do and there was no way you could change what the outcome was either. There was nothing anyone could do.

“Do you want time alone? I can ask Nanami or Geto or someone to come over if you want. Are you going to say anything? I know you're not okay, please say saything y/n.” Shoko was trying to pull you out of your spiral. You heard her words but couldn’t bring yourself to talk. You wanted to say something, to do something, you wanted to go and see for yourself, see if this was really just some sick joke. But you couldn't, you could only stand there.

You felt Shoko grab your arm and lead outside of your room and bring you to the morgue. She knew that you wanted to go there and make sure for yourself, but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. She led you to the door before she spoke up, “You can go in if you want to, but know you don’t need to. He’s lying on the table under the white cloth, Geto and Nanami are in there as well if you want to go in and see him one last time.”

You managed to look up and see through the window of what was going on in the room. Nanami was on the other side of the room sitting down with a cloth over his face and Geto was standing next to Haibara on the table. You say now that this was true, and now the only two first years were left. You say the state of his body too, the blood had sipped through the cloth. It was bad, and you could just hope that he died quickly and painlessly, but that was too much mercy for someone of this line of work.

Not being able to take it anymore you ran away from the morgue, letting your feet carry you to wherever they wanted you to go. Ending up in the small wood the lines the school. You always liked it here and went here to cool down after a mission or argument, or even just to be alone and forget about being a jujutsu sorcerer for once. You sat down under one of the trees, your legs pushed against your chest, arms wrapped around them. Burying your head into your knees and cried. Enough to make yourself feel even just a little bit better and to moron everything that is going on. This was too much, more than a sixteen year old should have to.

At some point you had fallen asleep under the tree. There was still plenty of light when you came out here and now the sun had fully set and it was dark now, maybe almost midnight. You looked around for your phone and say that it was almost midnight, just as you thought it was. Deciding if you should get up and go back to your room, or just stay where you were. It was cool outside and it was nice to be outside.

Just as you decided that you were just going to stay outside you heard footsteps coming from behind where you were sitting. Standing up quickly and turning around you realize that it was just Nanami. He looked like a mess, but who could blame him, his hair was a mess and his uniform was unbuttoned and he looked like he dragged himself here.

“Why are you out here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere, everyone else is in their rooms sleeping. You’ll get a cold staying out here all night.” as he approached he was slowly fixing his hair the best he could. He reached out to take your arm. “Come on, let's get you back to your room. When was the last time you ate, I can get you something if you would like.”

He was pulling you along with him back to the dorms. You didn’t answer any of his questions and just walked along with him, now with your arms wrapped around his left. The cold was finally getting to you wearing just your uniform without your jacket.

It took a few minutes to get to the dorms, walking you to your room. It was unlocked as Shoko had just closed it when she took you to the morgue.

Nanami led you to your bed and had you sit.

“Go take a shower, you look horrible. I’m going to go get one too and I’ll be right back and we can make something to eat.” with that he turned around and left the room.

Getting up and grabbing your sleep clothes, you got a shower. It helped with getting the chill off of you and to relax a bit. Feeling better and less dingy after taking one. Turning off the water and putting on your oversized shirt and pants you walked back out to your room. Nanami wasn’t back yet so you sat on your bed and plugged in your phone. Grabbing your book as well and sitting with your back on the headboard and legs stretched out you begane to read.

After a few chapters Nanami knocked on your door and walked in with a bag from the local convenience store as well as a cup holder with some warm drinks. Seems he had showed and left to go get some proper food for the two of you to have.

“I went to the convenience store after my shower, hope you didn’t have to wait too long for me. They didn’t have much but I managed to get some things for us to have." He walked over to your bed, setting the bag down on the edge and handing you the drinks. Then he began to pull things out of the bag. Pulling out some onigiri, instant ramen and a meat bun. Along with a random assortment of small candies. He handed you the meat bun in exchange for the drink, taking them out of the holder and setting them on the nightstand.

He picked up the ramen and went over to your desk where you kept a kettle, turning it on. Eating the meat bun you watched him make the ramen from across the room. He seemed to care a lot about right now. Both needing the comfort of someone after what had happened in the last 24 hours. Neither of you truly knew how to handle things like this, but this was nice, even better if it wasn’t under these conditions. Nanami was kind to you and always helped you with anything you asked for. THe second always jokes about how you and him would make a great couple, even go as far as say that you two would get married if only you two say what they did. Right was one of the first times that you see what they have been teasing you two about.

“Here I’ll set this here, it’s too hot to eat right now. Oh and I got green tea for the both of us, I was going to get coffee but we need sleep. Is the bun okay?” Nanami had finished making the ramen and brought it over to you and sat it down next to you, grabbing his and going to the other side of the bed and setting his things on the nightstand before climbing on the bed beside you.

“Mhm, thank you Nanami. You didn’t have to do this you know” Answering him before taking another bit of your bun. It was actually very good, but not sure if that was just because of the lack of food for the day or if it truly was good.

“We both need it, so it was really nothing. I know neither of us have eaten well today. You were also the one who fell asleep under a tree” He grabbed his ramen and began to eat from it, not looking at you. Letting out a giggle and a “I was tired”, you finish your bun without another word.

Pulling out your laptop you clicked a few things and brought up a video for the two of you to watch. Setting the computer on the bed where you both could see it. Then picking up your ramen to also eat from it, it was cool enough to eat now but it was still warm.

The two of you sat and ate in silence, watching the screen in front of you two. Soon enough you both were down with your food and drinks, but neither moved to throw away anything or go to their room. You found you that you were starting to grow tired again, though trying to fight off the sleep, but the feeling of safety that Nanami brought to you didn’t help, soon closing your eyes and falling asleep again.

Soon enough you feel something next to you start moving, blinking awake. You remember the night before that Nanami was with you on your bed, remembering that you fell asleep while watching videos.

Blinking your eyes open you see Nanami getting up and cleaning up what was left. Throwing away all the wrappers and empty containers. He walked over to your side of the bed and grabbed the empty cup of tea and ramen taking them to the trash. Back over to you, picking up your book, marking it and setting it back on the stand. Looking up he scanned the room before looking at you.

“You can go back to sleep, I was just cleaning up. I’ll go back to my room to try and get more sleep.” He said in a low voice, he had fallen asleep as well. His hair was a mess again and he sweats he had on where slightly messed up as well. This was a better messy look on him than what he looked like when he found you under the tree in the middle of the night. Really getting to look at his face now you could tell that he was not doing any better than you, he eyes were puffy and slightly red, he cried in his sleep, he also was slightly shifting his weight from where he stood. But, then he turned around, you didn’t want him to leave you alone.

“NO, wait Nanami,” you yelled out when he started to walk towards the door, “Don’t go, please. I… I don't want to be alone. Please stay”

He turned around to look at you, he didn’t think you would actually want him to stay with you. Slowly walking back over to you, he circled the bed to the other side and laid down on your bed before talking.

“I suppose I’ll stay with you until we have to get up for training.” It was barely above a whisper, just enough for you to hear him. He pulled you over in his arms, your face into his chest, bringing the blanket over the both of you.

“Please don’t leave. Promise to always be by my side, always.” you whispered back to him. In your half asleep state you were not truly listening to what was being said or what you were saying in return, in the morning you won’t remember why Nanami had stayed with you throughout the rest of the night.

The man next to you let out a small chuckle, saying “I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here if you need me. I won't be losing anyone else.”

Soon your both were fast asleep well into the day and missed morning training, but when the second years say that you two had cuddled up next to each other in order to bring yourselves comfort, they left you alone. There were some things that were best left the way they were, beside you two needed the rest and comfort.

Besides seeing you two do something with the feelings they all knew you had for each other was a nice breath of fresh air for everyone. Leaving you two to sleep together in peace.

~bonus~

Blinking your eyes awake you feel Nanami begin to get up out of bed, not wanting him to leave yet and take all his warmth with him you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down back into the bed.

“y/n, we should get up and do training, it's almost noon, we missed morning training already.” he tried to convince you to let go of you, and trying to steady himself, an arm of either side of your head.

“But Nanami, I'm comfy and you're warm. I don't wanna get up yet” you wined back at him

“Then I will go to train by myself, then you can join when you're ready.” He was still trying to get you to release your grip on him.

“But you said you wouldn’t leave me, you can’t go back on your word now. I want you to stay with me forever.” winning again at him and pulling him just a bit closer to you, now you're faces only a few inches apart, your eyes were closed so you couldn't see the blush growing on the blond’s face.

An idea popped into his mind and decided it might be the best way to get you to let him go. Leaning closer to you he closed the gap that was between you to. Kissing you for only a few seconds. In shock you let him go with a small squeal. Pulling away, the blush had grown across his face and a small smirk was on face as well.

“After training, I won't go anywhere y/n '' was the last thing he said to you, and for never wanting to do overtime, he really pushed himself to make sure that you were always happy and nothing ever hurt you.

“Oh and call me Kento” before hearing the door close.

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