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msgexymunson · 3 days

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The Ink Shop Part 2

Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.

A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars.

❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️

7k words

Masterlist Part 1

For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier.

Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile.

“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.”

“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.”

Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station.

Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.

The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“I see London, I see France…”

You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display.

“Eddie!”

He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-”

His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent.

“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you.

“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side.

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you.

Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.”

“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?”

Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him.

You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”

If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.

Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek.

But that just makes his smile wider.

“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you.

“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?”

“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?”

“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?”

You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world.

At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone.

So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about.

As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff.

“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.

“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment.

You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care.

“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you.

“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air.

“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?”

Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand.

“Shit princess, what did you do at college?”

“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you.

“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.”

In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat.

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear.

“Good girl.”

Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.

For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie.

The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines.

Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served.

Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes.

“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card.

“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin.

“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out.

“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.

You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,”

He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you.

Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”

“May I have a beer, please?”

“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.”

Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!”

Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.”

As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.

“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink.

“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being.

“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully.

“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, shoot.”

Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.”

Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery.

“Oh princess, you are too cute.”

Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks.

“What? What is it?”

Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.”

“What, like, kissing?”

Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.”

Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer.

Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?”

His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar.

“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.”

“Oh.”

Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.

“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now.

“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together.

“Liar.”

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks.

“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?”

He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.”

“I know that, I mean…”

For a second he just gapes at you.

“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?”

Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.”

Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing.

Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?”

“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.”

He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand.

“Please?”

“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

“Fine. Right now.”

“Oh I didn't-”

“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.”

Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him.

“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes.

‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely.

“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”

Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.

“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs.

For a second you stop in sheer surprise.

“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?”

He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.”

You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified.

“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.”

“Eddie!”

He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you.

“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside.

Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.

“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head.

“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door.

“No, no, it's very… you.”

“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious.

“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar.

“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-”

“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.”

You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.”

Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway.

The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if-

“You can sit down, princess.”

Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet.

“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you.

“No I- I was- maybe this-”

“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle.

“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.”

“But i haven't showered-”

“When did you last?”

“Well… this morning.”

“You're fine. Trust me.”

He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together.

“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.

He'll break your heart.

“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.”

A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns.

“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?”

Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head.

“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra.

He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?”

Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck.

“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.”

He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.”

Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.”

Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.”

Staring at you, he shakes his head.

“You should. You should be told every fucking day.”

You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair.

It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.

“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.”

It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes.

His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip.

“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need.

“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him.

He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?”

As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear.

“Fuck, look at you.”

The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms.

“Don't hide from me. You still want this?”

You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him.

“Say it. You need to say it.”

‘Yes, please Eddie.”

That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex.

“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.”

“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands.

“Relax princess, it's a compliment.”

Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture.

The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom.

He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line.

Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real.

“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?”

“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!”

You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure.

Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed.

Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick.

“You OK princess?”

OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup.

“Think you can go again?”

That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?”

Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling.

“I think you've got at least one more in you.”

Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up.

“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.”

This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him.

You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched.

��Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do.

With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment.

After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin.

“So? Good?”

It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden.

For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose.

“That's not part of the deal.”

Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile.

“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs.

“Stay here. I'll take the couch.”

“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-”

“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip.

“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.”

“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him.

“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.”

“You'd probably like that,” you tease.

“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.”

“Night Eddie.”

When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down?

Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions.

Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything.

As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond.

There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head.

Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.

You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements.

A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs.

Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example.

Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more.

It looks like it's going to be a long night.

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

“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.”

It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine.

“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth.

“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table.

The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early.

“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly.

“Morning, can I help you?”

“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you.

Face lighting up, you fix your best smile.

“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID?

He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride.

“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?”

Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles.

“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself.

When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting.

“You're not my 10:30.”

The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong.

“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder.

Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter.

“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.”

Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.

“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?”

He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes.

Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves.

There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda.

Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear.

“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.”

“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat.

“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?”

Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Hey, keep it at home guys.”

Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip.

“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie.

“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.

You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window.

“So, as I was saying-”

“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red.

“I was only-”

“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally.

You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac.

When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you.

Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest.

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

It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently.

By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest.

He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.

The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.

“Eddie, can I talk to you?”

He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom.

“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-”

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile.

“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out.

“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug.

“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.”

You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips.

“Really?”

Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong.

“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.”

Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.”

His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?”

“Of course I would. You got their number?”

He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William.

“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?”

He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored.

“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.”

Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait.

“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is- well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.”

Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly.

His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character.

“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?”

You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.”

He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly.

“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.”

“Eddie I already owe-”

He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!”

You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you.

“Who the fuck is Barb?”

“I dunno, she sounded worldly.”

He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.”

Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other.

Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time.

“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!”

Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly.

“You did good Miss, he's really happy.”

“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.”

He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.”

He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled.

“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately.

“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look.

He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.”

“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening.

He smirks at you in response.

“You free tonight? I can show you.”

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi

#ms gexy writes #ink shop eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #tattoo artist eddie #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female!reader #older eddie munson #older! eddie #older!eddie #stranger things imagines #stranger things #stranger things smut

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yunnuys · 18 hours

Text

Sensitive

JJK men with a sensitive girlfriend

Incl (^_−)−☆ Nanami Satoru Choso Suguru Toji

Nanami Kento:

Nanami found out how sensitive your thighs were one night when he was driving you two home from a date night. All it took was for him to just rest his hand on your thigh and you immediately closing your legs around it. He raises an eyebrow at you but he doesn’t say anything, he just keeps driving.

The date always ends with a movie night, so you two are sitting on the couch. Nanami glances over at you who’s engrossed in the movie, that’s when an idea pops into his head. He places his hand onto your thigh and squeezes softly, you feel yourself tense up again. “You did it again.” You turn to him with an unreadable expression. “Did what Ken?” No use in playing coy cause Nanami can and always will see through you. He just raises chuckles softly knowing that he just uncovered something new about you.

That’s how he ends up between your thighs, one hand keeping them spread apart while he traces soft kisses up your inner thighs. It causes your legs to quiver in response, and a soft gasp to escape your lips. “Didn’t know you were that sensitive here.” He says as he eyes drift up to yours, suckling softly to leave a light mark on the flesh.

“M not…”

“Is that so?” Nanami smiled as his kisses trailed higher and higher until they reach the spot where you need him most.

Satoru Gojo:

Satoru is a boob lover! He loves all of them no matter the shape and/or size. He never leaves boobs alone. He’s always squeezing them, looking at them, and laying on them whenever he got the opportunity to. No matter how many times you swat his damn hand away.

Anyway when that time of the month was approaching your boobs would always get sore and especiallyyyyy your nipples. You would complain to Satoru in which he would always say “why don’t you just let me massage them?” In which YOU reply with “I don’t like the way your eyes just lit up, you’re too excited so no I’ll deal with it.” He just pouts like a big baby he is, asking- no pleading for you to let him help out. So you agreed. Which was silly of you :0

But you’re not really complaining when he has you on his lap, your back to his chest as he lifts your shirt up. It was going good as he used his hands to lightly massage the mounds of flesh. Until his fingers just slightlyyy brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to let out a soft moan. “Oh?”

“Don’t.”

“Didn’t know my baby was that sensitive there.” Satoru continued to tease your nipples, applying just the right amount of pressure that has you squirming in his lap and breathing heavily. “Satoru.. fuck-“

“Think you could cum like this?” Satoru can’t hide that stupid smirk on his face.

Choso Kamo:

You both are extra sensitive when it comes to sex. All it takes is one touch and the both are you are shivering messes. When you two have sex you both get wrapped up in the sensation it’s hard to stop, no matter how overstimulated you or him get. Well to make a long story short you two are just one big whiney, filthy, and loud mess!

You’re on top bouncing on his cock, a creamy ring of cum where you two meet. Choso holds onto your hips as he throws his head back, moans just falling from his lips. “Fuck fuck fuck..” The both are you are SWEATY from multiple rounds but neither of you can stop, not yet one more won’t hurt right? The way his cock is repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you and the way your walls are tightening around him is maddening!!

“A-ahhh… Cho ‘m gonna…”

“Fuck me too baby- shit I’m..” His words don’t finish as he spills inside you once again, the both of you gasping in euphoria. But! As soon soon as you two catch your breath your hips are moving against his again. “One more Cho.. jus can’t get enough.”

Anyways at least TWO more rounds after that!

Suguru Geto:

He is obsessed with your neck.. like he loves to buy you pretty necklaces so he can put them around you. Suguru loves it when you get slightly tense when he places kisses on your nape once he finishes clasping the necklace on your neck. “What was that for? You like that don’t you pretty girl.”

You could be in the kitchen making dinner by yourself when he suddenly comes up behind you and nuzzles into your neck. “Mmm smells good in here.” One kiss on the side of your neck. “Thank you Suguru I found this recipe online.” Another kiss to the back of your neck, his hands come around to rest of your hips. You can feel the wetness pooling at your core, pressing your thighs together as you focus on chopping the vegetables. “Kinda busy right now… save that for later.”

“Yeah? Later? Sure you don’t want it now.” Suguru nips at your neck, pressing his tongue immediately after to soothe the spot. His trails two fingers into the waistband of your underwear, feeling how damp you were. “You’re soaked and I haven’t done anything.”

“Sugu…” you whine trying to seemed annoyed but you make no effort to move or stop him.

Suguru just coos at you, burying his face into your neck as he buries two fingers inside of you. “Just focus on the cooking, let me take care of you real quick baby.”

Toji Fushiguro:

I’ll just get straight to the point because he knows exactly how to make you feel good. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly how to make you cry for more… or less ^ - ^.

Toji has this thing where he won’t stop until you’re a crying mess. He thinks you look the best while he’s sucking and licking at your pussy, it’s already puffy and soaking from previous orgasms. He’s in heaven as your juices dribble down to his chin, your hands splayed in his hair. “T-toji.. c-can’t.. too much.”

He just responds by prodding his tongue at your hole, lapping at your wetness before he places his mouth on the part that makes you squirm the most. “You can take it I know you can just give me one more, you can be good right? I know you can.” Is the last sentence he says before latching onto your already overstimulated clit, sucking harshly on the swollen nub. And just like that your thighs are closing around his head as another mind blowing orgasm washes over you.

“What a good fuckin girl.”

ty for the love on the last one! If you have any requests or feedback I’ll gladly take them (^o^)

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sickslimez · 2 days

Text

HOLE IN THE WALL! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...as an overworked and stressed employee, you find relief in giving blowjobs to complete strangers at an adult store

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), jerking off, nipple play, tit job, pussy job, cum eating, praise, a little twist at the end, not proofread (as usual)

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

had to repost this bc tumblr took it down for whatever reason even though I have things more explicit than this on my other blog lmao

Working at an office where you were constantly hassled for your deadlines always put a lot of unwanted stress on your shoulders. Higher ups yapping in your ear about something you’ve been told one hundred times before and your fingers are typing as fast as they can on the computer. It was a complete and utter shit show, a waste of your precious time. But you have one little secret no one knows about, you volunteer at a glory hole every now and then when you feel too worked up.

After a long week of staring at a computer screen and boring meetings, you walking to the adult store, greeting the worker who already knew what you were there for. All you needed to relax was to watch random strangers cum from your touch. Believe it or not, it brought you joy hearing their moans on the other side of the thin wall. Maybe you chose the wrong profession.

As you entered the room, you let out a sigh, locking the door behind you. You slipped your coat off, and placed your bag down on the chair. Despite what others might think, the room was always clean. It wasn’t a random glory hole you’d find in a public bathroom or a shack in the middle of the woods. You unbuttoned your shirt, letting your tits breathe as you finally were able to relax and wait for the first person to come in.

You perked up at the sound of the door to the other room opening and closing shut. He let out a loud sigh, the sound of his pants being unbuckled making you excited. “Just make me cum, I’ve had a long fucking day,” he grunted. You looked down at the hole, the man placing his semi hard cock through it.

“You and me both, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.” Your hand glided up and down his shaft, slowly stroking him, feeling him grow harder in your hand. You stared at his cock with a smile, his swollen tip flushed a dark pink, prominent veins running on the underside of it. Whoever this man was, he sure had a pretty cock. “You’re so big,” you giggle. Your hand barely able to fully wrap around.

Delicate fingers traced the prominent veins, teasing the underside of his dick before your thumb rubbed over his swollen tip. You felt him throb in your hand, a bead of pre cum forming at his tip, a smile tugging at your lips. The stranger was fully hard, dick long and pretty. You continued rubbing your thumb over his tip, sticking out your tongue to give him kitten licks, tasting his pre cum. You heard the man shudder, a breathy gasp leaving his throat. “Oh, you’re so sensitive!” You gasped, now slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, moving from base to tip.

You moaned in satisfaction, lip tucked between your teeth as you jerked the stranger off, your free hand cupping your tits as you started to feel turned on by the sight in front of you. “Oh, fuck,” he let out breathy moan. More pre cum began leaking from his tip, allowing you to use it as lubricant to jerk him off easier. Your wrist moved in circular motions, squeezing gently the closer your got towards his sensitive head. “Shit, sweetheart! You really know what you’re doing, huh?” A moan could be heard from the other side of the wall.

Your hand pumped him faster, squeezing tighter around his shaft. “You better not cum yet!” You smiled as if he could see you, but you were taking joy in hearing him in pleasure. Opening your mouth, you stuck out your tongue and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously moving your hand. You pinched your nipple, moaning around his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby, your tongue feels so good! Let me feel that throat,” he whimpered, bucking his hips against the wall, trying so desperately to fuck your face. You removed your hand from around his cock, allowing him to fuck your face. Glug, glug, glug. “There we fucking go, atta girl!” He moaned loudly. As you sat there and let him use your throat, you couldn’t help but think at how familiar the man sounded, though you couldn’t remember from where. But it was the least of you worries, you were only thinking about making him cum.

You pulled your head away, trying to catch your breath as drool coated your chin. You lazily smiled to yourself, wrapping your hand around his shaft again and slowly jerked him off. You positioned yourself to where your tits were close to his dick, rubbing his tip over your hard nipples. “Mmm, feels so good.” Your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, sweetheart. God, I wish I could see your pretty face right now,” he grunted. You smiled at his words, continuing you give him a tit job before spitting on his cock again. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, taking him in your mouth slowly, allowing him to stretch your throat. You gagged on it, tears forming in your eyes before clenching them shut. Mascara ran down your cheeks as you began moving your head up and down, more spit coating his cock and falling on your chest. Your hands messily spread the spit over your tits, teasing your sensitive nipples. “Wanna cum all over your face—mmm, fuck me!” He groaned.

You pulled away again, taking a deep breath. You grinned when his cock twitched, a small giggle erupting from your chest. “You’re so close to cumming! I love it. Do I make you feel good, huh?” You cooed, dragging your fingers over his head. His cock looked even prettier dripping with your saliva.

“Can I feel your pussy? Please, sweetheart? I need it so bad,” he begged. You sat there on your knees, processing the words he said. You usually never let anyone fuck you at these glory holes, but you could think of the next best thing.

“How about a pussy job? Would you like that, baby?” You questioned, waiting for his answer while you slipped your soaked panties off. You dipped your fingers in between your folds, letting out a small gasp from how wet you were. “You got me so wet.” You slapped your pussy a few times, a lewd wet sound filling the room. “Hear that?”

“Goddamn you.” His cock twitched just from hearing how wet you were. “Let me feel her, please—fuckkk me,” he breathily said once he felt your hand grip his cock and rub his tip over your sopping slit.

You were bet over, using the chair as support while the other reached over and guided his cock along your pussy, his head rubbing between your folds and nudging your puffy clit. Your jaw went slack, eyes fluttering shut. Moans could be heard on either side of the wall. He desperately wanted to shove himself inside your gummy walls and fuck you until you passed out. “Cum all over my pussy, I know you want to.”

“Fuck, fuck, shit,” he grunted. “I’m cumming! Oh, sweetheart I’m fucking cumming!” Not even seconds after saying those words, you felt hot spurts coat your pussy, the man moaning and you continued to rub his cock all over your sloppy pussy.

“Yes!” You laughed, gasping from how he was still going. “Oh my goodness!” You felt him twitch one last time in your hand before you pulled away, sitting on the chair and spreading your legs to see at the mess he created. Curiosity got the better of you as you dipped your fingers in, scooping some of his cum and licking it clean off. “Mmmm, you taste so good!” He let out a breathy chuckle.

“Thank you for that, baby.” He pulled away from the glory hole, cock disappearing. You heard him put his pants back on. “Can I ask you a question?”

You kneeled back down towards the glory hole. “Yes, what is it?”

“Will you allow me to see who you are?” He sounded like he was nervous to ask the question.

“There’s no fun in a glory hole if you know who the person is,” you replied in a playful tone.

You heard the man let out a small laugh before sighing. “I guess you’re right. Until next time then.”

“Until next time.” You smiled to yourself. One thought sat in the back of your mind, though. Why did this man sound so familiar to you? It was a forbidden glory hole ‘rule’, but you couldn’t help yourself from peeking through the hole in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man on the other side. You noticed a familiar watch on his right hand, his figure coming more into view when he walked towards the door. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you saw the blonde hair. It was none other than Nanami Kento, your co-worker who you regularly greet at the office, the man who sits in the cubicle right next to you.

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roosterforme · 2 days

Note

I feel like Bob would be really good at overstimulation because he's so patient. He'd have you naked and in tears, several orgasms deep before he even took his shirt off.

I'm going to pretend @attapullman sent this (but she'd never go nonny about Bob), because I wrote this little ficlet as a birthday treat in response to this sexy thought. Happy birthday, Morgan!

I Need a Minute (Bob Floyd x Reader)

contains smut, fingering, adult language, overstimulation and confident Bob

Your boyfriend was not someone to mess with. You knew that for a fact. Sure, he looked sweet and innocent in his wire rimmed glasses and unassuming shirts, but inside, he was a thinker. A planner. Someone who took all the time necessary to make a decision and formulate a plan. And in your case, he was currently working on exacting his revenge.

Anyone else would have a hard time reading it on his face, but you knew him well enough to notice the soft twitch of his lips and the subtle glances he was sending your way. It was your own fault for the way you teased him at the diner, sliding your hand up inch by inch beneath the napkin that was spread out on his lap until you got to the sweet spot. While you casually talked to all of his aviator friends, you stroked him slowly through his jeans. As you laughed with Mickey and Javy, you gave him a little squeeze just to hear his soft grunt.

When everyone started to stand up, Bob was blushing as he said, "I need a minute." And you left him high and dry, climbing out of the oversized booth and making a mad dash for Natasha's car while Bob tried to hide what you did to him.

As you traipsed across the sandy beach with everyone else, Bob finally reached for your free hand. "Why don't we spread our blanket out over here?" he asked, tugging you to a stop. "The fireworks would be starting up in just a few minutes," he added. "We should get settled in."

He seemed completely calm, so you shook out the beach blanket and curled up with him so you were sitting between his legs. "Are you comfy?" you asked him over your shoulder, and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.

"Very," he promised, and you turned to face the ocean just as the first red, green and orange fireworks lit up the sky. Even though you were wearing his Naval Academy sweatshirt over your sundress, you shivered as he whispered, "I'm about to be a lot more comfortable than you."

"What?" you gasped, realizing that everyone else was sitting in front of you. There was nobody watching as Bob gently pulled your legs further apart and kissed the side of your neck. Nobody noticed a damn thing when he tugged the fabric slowly up your legs and ran his thumb along your underwear, sending you scooting back against him. "What are you doing?" you whined softly, giving yourself away.

His fingers paused on the thin strip of cotton hiding your pussy from him. "Oh. You want this, huh?" When you nodded, dazed eyes focused on the fireworks, he kissed your earlobe. "You say that now."

One long finger slipped inside the elastic band of your underwear, and you gasped his name. Bob let his digit glide slowly up and down your slit while he made casually offhand comments like, "The green fireworks are my favorite. Did you know they are made out of barium salts?" Your only response was to moan a little louder, and he didn't stop you. The loud booming sounds blocked out your whines and breathy gasps as he slipped that finger inside you, lazily fucking you with it while his thumb found you clit.

He punctuated every thrust with a little swirl of his thumb, varying the speed as he went. You tried desperately to fuck yourself on that long finger, but he held you in place with his other hand. You were playing his little game now, and you knew it would be a little while before you came.

His lips worked at your neck until you could feel a bruise forming. His teeth grazed your skin softly when you started to hiccup. You found out the hard way that the city of San Diego put on a glamorous thirty minute fireworks display for holidays, and Bob teased you for twenty-eight of them. Your breathing was so loud as he pumped his hand beneath your dress and whispered, "You want to come, don't you? You want to soak my hand even more, huh?"

"Bob!" you begged loud enough that one of the others must have heard, but Bob just kept slowing his pace until you felt tears in your eyes. Your makeup was probably a mess. Sweat broke out on your brow. But he just slowed down until he was gently tapping your pussy with his fingers.

"Ask me really nicely."

"Please, Bob!" Your voice broke on the words as he rammed two fingers deep inside you and stroked your clit with his thumb. The grand finale of fireworks blasted across the sky as you finally came, eyes closed and back arched. You didn't care who saw you like this as long as you got the relief you needed.

He kissed that tender spot behind your ear and whispered, "You're lucky I'm so nice," as you rolled your hips against the heel of his hand. And then he was slipping it back out of your panties and tugging your dress into place as everyone around you started to collect their things. When he stood up and looked down at you, he smirked as you sprawled out on your back, your limbs completely boneless. "You ready to go?" he asked with his hands on his hips.

"I need a minute."

#if you ask emily #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #bob fucks #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #robert bob floyd x reader

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loveshotzz · 2 days

Note

I have to know what would we do to spoil our old man on his birthday 🥺🥺🥺🥺

we’d spoil him rotten 🥺

here’s semi spicy 18+ blurb about giving our favorite old man a massage on his birthday ♥️

(this blurb is for my au All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand-alone. Steve is 43 and fem!reader is 31 requested so long ago by @joekeerysmoles 💕) wc:600

The rose oil that covers your hands makes your fingertips glide over his broad freckled shoulders with ease. Eucalyptus hangs thick and heavy in the warm air, crackling from the wooden wicks inside the candles that provide the only light in his room. They help the nerves that still flutter even after a year of saying ‘I love you’.

Steve lays flat on his chest underneath you only in his boxer briefs, the gold Gucci emblem around the waist band shimmers in the low light. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, dipping down the plush bedding of his new king size mattress. A 43rd birthday gift to himself, while you sit in nothing but the thin red lace of the one you got for him.

Leaning forward with a smirk, your lips ghost across two of your favorite moles that dot the back of his neck, the tip of your nose tracing the shell of his ear.

“Happy birthday old man.”

Applying just enough pressure up the dip of his spine, you earn a low moan from him that vibrates deep in your core. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to rock your hips and chase it.

“Honey,” his voice comes out muffled from around the tops of his hands,“I wish there were words to describe how good this feels.”

Giggling with a chest full of pride, you catch a flash of his white teeth, stubble covered cheeks pushing up at his favorite sound. One of his big hands slips out, shoulders flexing with his movement as he reaches back to squeeze at the soft dough of your thigh before disappearing back to where it came from.

A content sigh escapes from between his pink lips as your focus shifts to his neck, your fingers digging at the tense muscles under his gold chain. The metal glistens with oil every time it catches the glow of the flickering candle, while your thumb and forefinger knead behind his ears.

“Shit, baby.”

Huffing with furrowed brows, he readjusts so he can turn his head to the other side. The movement slides you forward, creating just enough friction to bite down on your bottom lip. The dull ache between your legs becomes even harder to ignore, and you wonder if he can feel just how wet you are.

“Yeah, is that the spot?” You coo all sticky sweet, working it with even more focus. He sucks in a sharp breath, his teasing kisses all night spurring you on.

”God, fuck - yeah, yeah, right there.” He groans loud enough to drown out the sounds of The O’Jays vinyl playing downstairs, your thumb finally loosening up a hard knot.

His whole body melts under your touch, the hard lines of his face relaxing while the blunt ends of your nails scratch at the silver hairs hiding in the nape of his neck. Letting go of his long work week with deep breath, the movements have your hips rolling on their own, his oiled sun kissed skin making it too easy to do again.

He hums knowingly, relishing in the soft tug of his hair loving the way you squeal when he flips himself over. Big hands grab at your hips to keep you in place, the effects of your massage had on him becoming obvious nestled between your thighs.

There’s still no preparing for the sight beneath you, and despite seeing it almost every day, you still can’t believe he’s yours.

His soft hair is a tousled mess of auburn and silver on top of his head, begging you to drag your hands through it. The five o’clock shadow that peppers his strong jaw is at your favorite length, and sometimes you think he grows it out a little longer just for you. His gold chain that hangs off his neck fits like a choker, no longer lost in the thick patch of chest hair that you swear has a few more gray curls inside of it after today. Letting your hands wander his chest, your gentle touch makes the subtle muscles of his abs twitch. Perfect teeth biting down on his full bottom lip, watching you in awe.

“You know I hate my birthdays? Always have.” Steve hums, warm palms gliding up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough before digging his long fingers into your hips, “Now I wish it was every day with you lookin’ like this, pretty girl.”

”Who says it can’t be?” You grin, running your slick hands back up his pecs, nails scratching in the coarse hair there.

Leaning forward, you fix his chain bumping the end of your nose with his, rolling your hips slowly, you feel him twitch inside the soft cotton of his briefs.

”It certainly feels like it,” he whispers with a smile against your lips.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #all i really want is you #older!steve harrington #it’s 1am of course i’m posting a blurb about him

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bunnys-kisses · 2 days

Text

swordsman

roronoa zoro

cw: pwp/smut, possessive!zoro, rough sex, outdoor (ship) sex, jealous!zoro, nipple/breast play

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!

zoro didn't mind many things. he was preoccupied with other things to focus on the specific details of the day to day of the ship. but the one thing that set him off was quite simple.

the sight of another man flirting with his girl.

while he didn't mind for the most part when sanji did it, but when it was strangers that luffy was showing good graces too. that was not acceptable. luffy had let these pirates on board and while you were helping them move their stuff, the men's gazes lingered on your backside as you walked past.

it made zoro tighten his grip on his swords before he came over to be your shadow to keep men like that away. he put a hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.

"what's goin' on, zoro?" you asked as you looked up at him, but was just met with another kiss. zoro was rarely affectionate in front of others. he never saw the need to perform romance in from of others.

"want to make sure you're alright." he nodded as he pulled away marginally. his hand lingered for a moment before he continued to follow you.

you chuckled, "oh now you're worried i can't handle things." you put down what you were carrying and pinched your lover's cheek. then leaned up into a kiss.

"i don't like how they're lookin' at ya." he said as he wrapped his arms around you. he pushed you into his chest, strong arms protected you as he looked over your head to glare at their vistors.

you held onto the front of his top and smiled into his warmth, "oh, zoro." you chuckled, "i can handle them if they got too handsy." then looked up at him with a smile, "plus, i don't want anyone else."

his hand reached down to your ass and gave it a firm grab and chuckled darkly when you yelped. jealousy boiled up into his chest as he gave the other men one last look.

he then said to your quietly, "meet me in the crow's nest after dinner."

you giggled into your hand as he walked away. what a possessive swordsman, you thought. it was like he staked claim on you and has not let any man outside of the crew talk to you.

you knew their gazes were lingering, but you thought it was something to be proud about. to know that you still got it. you turned back to your guests and led them to where they'd be staying tonight.

and yes, their gazes were on your behind as you brought them through the ship.

after dinner, the sun was still out. the days were longer now, which meant that when zoro started to undress you in the crow's nest. there was a glow to your skin by the late afternoon light.

his hands were on your breasts as you were straddling his waist. you had to attempt to be quiet as he gave slow licks to your sensitive nipples.

"you think you can let them look at ya like a piece of meat?" he grumbled against your skin, "that's my ass they're looking at."

you pulled on his green hair and made his eyes meet yours, "you mean it's my ass."

he shoved his head back between your breasts and replied, "what's yours is mine." his large hands felt up your breasts and tugged on your nipples playfully while he gave the flesh well deserved attention.

"you're such a brat." you grumbled as you touched his hair some more. you felt warm from his touches, those strong fingers massaged the tender flesh of your breasts.

it wasn't long before he grew bored of simple kisses and laid out out in the crow's neck and started to undress you further. it was your little getaway from the crew, the only place that you could have some privacy and get intimate.

"you look good." he praised. his hands traveled your sides towards your hips, "too good."

you reached out for him and pulled yourself up by his shoulders to kiss him. your arms held onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your back to keep your supported.

he was so strong, it was admirable. even though he could be a bit harsh. he was your strong swordsman, despite the streak of possessiveness.

"don't worry." you whispered in his ear, "i'd only ever want you." then he put you back down on the floor of the nest. he man handled you onto your hands and knees with your face pressed against the wood. he rubbed his cock up against your slick entrance. he sighed at the feeling of your pussy.

he was never a man to crumble to his knees, but the feeling of your sweet cunt had his mind going blank. he groaned to himself as he teased your slit, the feeling left a thumping in his veins. he knew his face was flushed, and you knew if you were looking at him, you'd notice it too.

"how does it feel?"

"if you're going to keep teasing me, i'm going to explode." you grumbled into your arms as you used them to cushion your face. you inhaled deeply when he slipped his cock into you.

you both hissed together as he bottomed out into you. his cock reached as far as it would go. you clawed into the floor of the nest as you tried to relax your body to accommodate his size.

"yeah... shit." he grumbled to himself as he started to rock against you. his thrusts were strong and methodical. you could feel your heart in your throat as he fucked you up in that crow's nest.

"shit. please. zoro." you groaned as you back arched. the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the air and a part of zoro hoped that your guests for the night could hear the both of you.

they didn't need to be staring at what he owned.

he held you hips as he moved you back and forth on his cock. it was so much easier in that position. it let the green-haired man bury his cock as deep as he needed to be.

you tried to meet his pace as you worked together to make each other feel good. your moans were higher pitched, and it made zoro quite happy. he hoped that bastards could hear you.

"feels good." you grumbled against the floor.

zoro grabbed your ass cheek and then gave is a quick smack in a teasing manner, "i'm glad. i want to make you feel good." he was hunched over you, sweat made his muscle glisten in the afternoon light.

he was encouraged by your noises. he wanted to see how quickly he could get you to orgasm. to watch you fall apart while he speared his cock into you. it made him hot all over as he continued to thrust his cock in and out of your sweet cunt.

"you're mine." he growled.

"yes." you panted, feeling in an altered state with the rush of pleasure through your body. a part of you got off to the idea of zoro being your possessive shadow. such a strong man paired with someone like you.

you weren't defenseless, your abilities allowed you to be a valuable asset. but to have your physically imposing boyfriend fuck you like your lives depended on it. it was a euphoric rush that left you gasping and moaning as he drilled his cock into you.

"please, zoro."

"i got you." he said as he felt close to his climax. he could tell from your short words that the pleasure had muddled your brain. he worked your body quickly.

your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head. your heart raced and your body, despite cramped in the crow's nest, felt electrified with pleasure.

with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. you clenched around his cock and finished as well. zoro put you onto your back and leaned over you.

he smiled down at you like a madman, there was no stopping him. you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a heated kiss. there was no stopping you either.

the next morning your guests left the ship when you hit land. you hobbled around the ship as there was a 'pain' in your back. everyone knew what happened in the several hours you were in the crow's nest.

you tried to play it off, but zoro put an arm around you and puffed his chest out with pride. he fucked you repeatedly, he made you squirm and moan. and nobody was taking his girl away, ever.

#bunny writes #reader insert #zoro smut #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece smut #anime smut #anime x reader #op x reader #op smut

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railingsofsorrow · 2 days

Text

5 hours apart

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” “I don't want you to miss me. It's tearing me apart.” from this prompt list.

pairing: spencer reid x svu!detective!f!reader

w.c: 3.7K

warnings/content: long distance relationship; crying; sadness; discussions of a case related to kidnapping (brief); migraine; this o.s approaches healthy siblings dynamic and some childhood trauma, be aware; discussions about marriage; spencer does not beat the pipe cleaner allegations.

A/N: decided to do a crossover one shot between criminal minds and law and order: svu (my newest obsession)because I love both shows (and nick amaro has older brother vibes) and it fit pretty well. there's like a few Spanish terms that I used and please consider that I did Spanish in high school and had a few classes afterwards, forgive me if I made some misspellings.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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There are two missed calls on your phonescreen when you turn it on. The heavy load of paperwork you needed to finish plus the migraine that did not leave you alone forced you to turn your phone off during the daytime so you could concentrate on working. Amanda and Fin telling you to go home wasn't as effective as your boss ordering the exact same thing upon seeing your tired state. Thankfully, by the time he did that, you had already finished everything and you happily obliged.

The keychain clinking against the doorknob makes you drop your shoulders in relief. You aren't home but it's close enough. It's been a few months since you have stepped into your brother's place, but it's the same as you remember. Grey couch, the spotless kitchen island that you can see as soon as you walk in, the innumerous pictures of your brother and your niece scattered around the walls.

You throw your dark brown blazer on the loveseat across the room and sit on the couch unceremoniously, pressing play on the latest voice message.

“Hey... It's me. I called you before and it went straight to voicemail, I... I forgot to say something.” You snort, hair falling off of your ponytail as you let it loose down your shoulders. Never have you ever seen your boyfriend forget something. “I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I know I promised and I really wanted to go but the case, it was a serious one, they needed me.” The guilt in his voice breaks a part of you inside. “I-I'm sorry I let you down.” There's a beat, some voices in the background that you can't make out who it is because they're too far away. “I love you and I'll make it up to you, okay? Call me when you can, please.” And the message ends.

You only notice you start crying when a sob echoes through the room and the sound comes from you.

You were never mad at him. Deep down, you expected him to cancel on you because of a case, you knew you would if you were needed. Both if you are not the kind of people who let your people hanging, especially if the reason is work. And that's fine, when you started dating Spencer, that was the first thing you understood, as he did.

Being far away from him is what kills you. You manage to work long-distance. He visits you on his (rare) day-offs, you escape for a few days to Virginia. It works. It's how you do. But there are moments in which you just need him close and it's not like you can drive over to his apartment right away. 5 hours apart does that to a couple. It's not unbearable, but it's painful.

You miss him.

So you dial the number you know by heart, sniffling quietly on your bubble of loneliness in the empty apartment.

You don't know where he is, if he's home, if he's in a completely different timezone. You don't care.

It rings twice before his voice fills up the call. “Hi—Hey, angel.” He sounds frantic. You smile thinking he must have been waiting for your call.

“Hey, Spence,” you respond, folding your knees on the couch. “Are you home? I didn't text first to see if it was a good time to talk, sorry.”

“It's always a good time to talk to you.” He says without hesitantion. “I'm on the motel, packing.”

“Oh, so did the case end okay?”

You can feel the relief through his exhale. “Yes, we found the boy on time. He's finally back with his parents. Home.”

Your mouth twitches, “that's good.” And you make sure to add as you always do, “you saved a life today, I'm proud of you.”

His soft awkward chuckle causes a tearful grin out of you. You can practically see him blushing.

“Thank you. It was... It's a good feeling.”

“Are you happy?”

“Not really.”

You brows furrow slightly. “Why? Did something happen?”

“I miss you,” he says. “I am happy that we saved someone today, of course but... You know, the first person I wanted to tell it to was you. I just— I miss you. So much it hurts.”

You close your eyes as the tears slip one by one down your cheeks, you felt their salty taste. Your chest clenching as you stay silent for what feels like several minutes until Spencer's concerned tone breaks the silence.

“Angel?”

“Please don't miss me. It's tearing me apart.” Your request doesn't quite make sense but you don't have time to think it through before you say it. It just what comes out of your heart.

“Please, don't cry.”

You let out a tearful laugh, attempting to dry your tears foolishly.

“I'm always missing you, sweetheart. I'm sorry but that's inevitable.” He adds, sadly.

“It hurts so fucking much.”

Spencer clears his throat and you know he's either refraining from crying himself or trying to mask it.

“I know. I'm sorry.” He pauses. “I wish I was there.”

You shake your head even though he can't see it. “'s not your fault. It's your job, you can't help it.”

"I hate it that you're crying and I'm not there to comfort you."

"I'm fine," you whisper, sniffling. "Don't worry about me. Today was just... A shitty day, really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You hum, fiddling with the soft fabric of the light green hand-knit throw blanket your brother always left on his couch. "Migraine." It's what you say and all he needs to know to wince in the other side of the line.

"Did you take something for it?" Spencer is aware of your frequent migraines and how much they bother you.

"Yeah, it's okay now." You reply even though there's a little painful pang in the back of your back right now.

"Maybe you should try to sleep a little. Did you know that sleeping seven hours every night impacts on your focus, body weight and immune system? Actually, adults aged from sixteen to sixty years should all get at least seven hours sleep every night, but that's almost never happens because of people's usual hectic work schedules-" He sucks in a breathe upon noticing he's rambling non-stop. You laugh and suddenly the harsh grip on your heart diminishes a little. His voice appeasing the momentary heartache you're going through.

"Says you. Who never sleeps, anyway. And work on caffeine 24/7."

"Hey," his tone has a tinge of amusement but he pretends to be offended. "I sleep."

"You do when I'm there. Cause I force you."

"Oh, you're so cruel to me, angel."

Your lips widen into a smirk. "That I am."

The conversation carries on for a while, until you figure out which time it is where he is and immediately orders him to go to sleep because he has an early flight to catch in the morning. He's reluctant, but he eventually lets it go because you need to sleep too and you will talk in the next day again.

Before he hangs up, he asks, the first time he hesitates in the call. "Uh, does- does your brother hate me?"

Your brain takes a few seconds to grasp what he's implying, until you remember what was supposed to happen this weekend. Spencer would come over to your place in New York to meet your brother.

You bite your lip, straightening your legs out on the ouch. "Yeah, about that..."

"He does, doesn't he? I don't blame him, I did screw up-"

"Wait, baby, that's not it. I... I actually didn't tell him." A pause, you curse under your breath. Now he must thing you didn't want him to come. "Spence?"

"Did I pressure to do something you didn't want? I should have asked you if you wanted meet to meet him, right? I think I kind of invited myself over and-"

"Stop." You cut him off. "No, Spencer. You didn't pressure me into anything. I want you two to meet, of course I do. You're one of the most important people to me, but I really forgot. I'm not making up an excuse."

"Alright, yeah. Okay." He says and you hear a door closing and wood creaking. He must be sitting on the bed.

"I love you." You receive the mental image of the scrunch of his nose and the smile he can't help whenever you drop the L bomb out of nowhere. "And you know he doesn't have to approve anything, right? Nick has no say in who I date or not."

"But he's your brother, he's important to you and I would meet him someday anyway because- I, well." Your body shakes with laughter and the phone almost drops from your hand.

"What, are you proposing now, genius? Through the phone, really?"

"Don't make fun of me." Spencer warns playfully.

You take a few seconds to process that he doesn't deny it. You said it as a joke but he didn't even deny it that he thinks about marrying you. God, your chest could combust.

"You think about it?" You ask, shifting your position to bring your knees to your chest. "Us? Someday?"

"You mean getting married to you? Yes. I do. We haven't discussed it yet, but... Yes, I do think about it."

"Mhm."

"Has it ever... crossed your mind?" He's reluctant, shy to ask even. You find it cute as everything Spencer Reid does. Marriage is something that never really crossed your mind, to be honest. You think is nice when people get married and show their love to their loved ones, but your parents' relationship carved a fear deep within your chest and your entire perception of love had to be relearned through the years they separated. One thing that you learned is that no person and no relationship is the same. It's not because your father broke your trust and destroyed a part of your and your brother's childhood that your future partners will do the same. It is easier said than done, but you're coming around to the idea.

"Not before you." You admit quietly.

"Oh."

“Yeah.” You ponder out loud. “It scares me a bit, that I consider spending the rest of my life by your side. Doesn't it scare you?”

“It does,” he replies. “But the idea is nice to think about.”

You smile, letting out a soft breath. “Yeah, it is nice.”

A male voice calls out for him in his end and you know he has to go. You had already taken up much of his time, anyway.

“They want to go to a bar nearby to celebrate.” Spencer explains to you, not sounding too thrilled about the idea.

You snicker, “go have fun, genius. You deserve it. Try to enjoy it even if this is not your usual idea for fun. I love you.”

“I love you more.” Spencer says and laughs at your groan of protest on the other side.

“We're not going to be one of those couples who never hang up because you love me more or no, I love you more, Spencer.”

“I just like to mess with you.” He admits with an edge of amusement to his tone. And damn you miss the smirk you know he's making right now.

“Yeah, I know. Now go, have fun. And have a safe flight tomorrow, text me when you land?”

“Of course, angel. Try to sleep a bit, you need the rest.”

You smile. “Sure. Bye, Spence.”

“Bye, angel.”

An hour or two goes by since your phone call with your boyfriend and manage to cook some dinner and then throw yourself back on the couch while a random show is played on TV. You end up falling asleep and wake up upon hearing the jiggling keys against the door of your brother's apartment, rubbing your eyes in your disoriented sleepy state. Checking your phone, the screen says 11p.m.

Nick stops midway from his way to the couch, where he was probably about to throw himself at. From his tired eyes and hunched over stance, you are able to tell how exhausted he is. “Why are you always here?” Nick throws himself on the floor instead, his head falling against your knees. The tone he used would make you slap him right behind his ear, if you weren't still with your mind in that phone call and a million miles away from New York. “I thought you rented an apartment. Or is it that you just miss me?”

“I don't miss you.” You mumble, voice muffled by the soft fabric of the blanket covering half of your face. “I see you every day, idiot. How can I miss you.”

Nick raises an arm towards your calf and you immediately kick his hand away before it can get to your feet. He chuckles, fluttering his eyes open for the first time since he got home. He glances up at you, who's glaring at him. His smile falls.

“What's wrong?”

You shrug, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards the TV. You weren't paying attention since the show started, you had no idea what is going on. “I cooked dinner. Left you a plate on the microwave. Go eat, I bet you didn't have a proper meal. You never do.”

“That's not true—”

“Eating burritos isn't a proper meal, Nick.” You groan as he tries to take another look at your face. “Stop it. I'm fine.”

“Yeah, I don't buy it. What happened?” If there's one thing your brother is, that thing is anxious. Nick is a worrier. And he's completely paranoid about knowing what's going on to find a solution before the time runs out. Even if there is no time to run out. He gently tips your chin up, frowning. “Why have you been cryin’?”

You turn your face away from his reach, sitting up on the couch. You take a moment to form your answer and he's anxiously waiting for it, coffee-brown eyes inspecting your matching ones.

You decide to go simple, but it's also the truth. “'s not a good day, that's all.”

He blinks and then the concern opens some space for understanding in his expression. And just like that, he figures out what's been making you upset. You don't doubt that he really knows, since your brother and you always understand each other with a look.

“D'you wanna talk about it?” His usual sarcastic tone gives place to a softer one. The one he uses in moments where his little sister needs her older brother.

You shrug, letting out a sigh before resting your head against the couch, eyes studying the ceiling. “It's nothing, I just... I miss Virginia, that's all.”

Nick hums, nodding. “You mean you miss the skinny kid from the FBI.”

A laugh bubbles out of you unexpectedly, you playfully shove his shoulder as he offers you an unimpressed look.

“Stop being mean to him.”

“Me?” Nick pulls himself up to the sofa, groaning when his joints complain as he stands up. “'m not being mean to anybody.”

“Okay, grandpa.”

“Hey,” he throws a pillow at you, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “you don't get to be mean to me.” You roll your eyes. There he goes playing the older card that just makes him look exactly like an elderly. “Why don't you take a few days off? I can't remember the last time you did that.” Before you can respond to that, he frowns, turning to you as if he just had thought of something. “Or why doesn't the skinny kid come and visit you? It's not that hard.”

“He was gonna to that this weekend.” His raised eyebrow makes you sigh and shake your head. “He had a case last minute, so he couldn't.”

He pauses, munching on his cheek. You question his thoughtful expression.

“What? No jokes now?”

“It's serious then? You and him.”

You blink at him, puzzled by the question. It wasn't what you expected. “W—yes. Why would you ask that?” He had walked up to the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever you had made him and you followed right behind.

“Nothin’,” he says, turning the microwave on and stepping towards the fridge to grab something to drink. “I just never saw you in a serious relationship.”

You pause.

Okay, you had a few flings in your life, it's not like your love life is messy, it is actually pretty simple. You and the people you've previously have relationships (or situationships) enjoyed having fun. You weren't looking for anything serious and when you were... well, your job got in the way. Until Spencer Reid. He's the unexpected occurrence that showed up during a local case to investigate a series of murders in the city of New York and both of your teams worked together. If someone told you before that you would get attached so quickly to someone and consider driving five hours just because you missed them then you would have laughed in their face.

Your brother might actually have a point. He had never seen you in a serious commitment before, he has, however, had the opportunity to try and scare off some of your partners — the ones he accidentally met, at least.

“I don't need to disclosure every aspect of my love life to you, Nicholas.”

You crossed your arms as the corner of his lips lift in a knowing smile. “Stand down, tiger. I just made an observation, no need to get defensive.”

“I'm not.” You say, shifting on your feet, suddenly self-conscious with the whole conversation. It's difficult to talk about someone so important to you to another someone that's important to you. You've never share much about your personal life and inner struggles with anybody, and that has everything to do with the man you call “father” in the biological sense. But Spencer managed to push through these walls and he didn't demeaned you because of your trauma, neither did he treated you as if you were made out of glass, that you could shatter at any given second. He understood you and you understood him, which is why love has always been within your reach in your relationship. It was only a matter of time.

“He's important to you, isn't he?” The microwave beeped but none of you move.

“Yes.” You utter, playing with the ring on your index finger. “I know we don't— we don't talk about these stuff...”

“We can if you want to—”

“No, it's not— That's not it. I mean. You're my brother and we have a good communication but I never felt the need to formally introduce anyone to you because you're family, Nick. You're my only family,” you finally look at him. “If it ever got to the point, one day, where it was worth it for me to do that, then I would. I just thought that I wasn't made for love, you know?”

You see him rushing to disagree with you and probably say you can't think like this and that is not true, so you intervene before, smiling.

“But I know that that is not true, alright? Porque le quiero y sé que él también.” His eyes soften at your claim and you feel like crying again because you miss Spencer and you wish he's there with you. “So yeah, it is serious. And the reason he was going to come visit me was to meet you properly.”

“What?”

“Yes. That was my reaction too.” A fond smile takes over your mouth. “He insisted he wanted to meet you because he knows how important you are to me.”

“Oh.” He is officially caught off guard and it makes you chuckle. That is a rare image you're seeing in front of you. No one catches Nick Amaro off guard. One point to Spencer, I guess. “Well, now I just have to meet this chico who stole my sister's heart.” He's back to his playful persona, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair, and you flip him off. “Let's see if he is all that you claim he is.”

“He's a good guy, asshole.” He hums, munching on his food. “You'll see,” you say with a small grin while you turn back to the living room to lay back on the couch.

“We'll see.” He mumbles from the kitchen, shaking his head when a thought crosses his mind. He can't believe you fell in love, he still sees you as an annoying toddler who wouldn't let him be at school while he was trying to impress his friends because you were too shy to make your own and would cling to him like a lifeline. In all honesty, Nick has always enjoyed your company, it makes him feel grounded. He cares about your well-being and tries to protect you from every bad thing you have to face, but he knows he can't. Sometimes, you gotta face things on your own. And, sometimes, you don't need your older brother to shield you from pain. It's hard for him to accept that, especially after what you both endured through your lives.

You're all grown up now and he has to stand down his overprotective side because you can handle things, he knows you do. Though he'll be there, in the corner, having your back as always. Because that's what brothers do.

Hopefully, this Spencer Reid will pass the test.

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[translation]

Porque le quiero y sé que él también. = because I love him and I know that he does too

chico = boy, kid

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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nanivinsmoke · 2 days

Text

Picture Perfect

just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .

toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader

we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?

summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.

warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…

“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.

“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.

you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.

you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.

the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.

as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.

“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.

sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.

he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.

“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.

his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.

your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu’s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.

“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.

your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.

you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.

“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.

shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.

you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.

while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.

“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.

you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.

the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.

and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.

“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.

a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.

you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.

you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.

shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it some again”

“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”

you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.

“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.

“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.

you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.

“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”

and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.

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gamergirl929 · 18 hours

Text

Age Is Just A Number (It Shouldn't Hold You Back) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

If there was one thing you didn't expect when you joined the USWNT, it was to develop a relationship with Alex Morgan, one that consisted of playful teasing and flirting. Despite the fact that she was ten years your senior, something she continuously reminded you of, you couldn't help but fall for her, age be damned, now if only Alex felt the same way.

Your tongue swipes along your lips as you watch Alex Morgan move to her feet, the woman’s uniform now drenched thanks to the waterlogged pitch you were being forced to play on in the semifinals against Canada in the Women’s Gold Cup.

You move past her, a smirk on your face.

“Looking good, as always Morgan.” You tease, and she rolls her eyes, giving you a playful shove as you all gather in the box for the incoming corner kick.

“Shut up.” She shakes her head, though she can’t bite back a smile.

You lick your lips, watching as Rose Lavelle sets up the corner kick, her hand held high in the air as she prepares to fire the ball.

The second the ball leaves her foot you know it’s yours, your teammates covered by the Canadian players.

You leap into the air, using your height to your advantage, jumping high above the Canadian players defending you, the ball ricocheting of your head and inches past Kailen Sheridan’s gloved hands.

You again jump into the air, throwing a fist above your head as your teammates surround you, ruffling your hair.

Rose jumps into your arms, and you lift her in the air before twirling.

“Nice corner as always Rosie.” You say, the woman giggling.

You turn towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.

“Are you impressed yet?” You flirt and she snorts, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“It WAS an impressive header.” She says and you snicker.

“Don’t worry, you’ll fall for me soon.” You wink and she giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly as she makes her way towards her place on the field, ready to put the ball back into play.

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

The whistle blows and you sigh in relief, your clothes sticking to your body considering the rain had started back up towards the end of the second half.

A number of your teammates jog your way, Emily Sonnett in particular jumping on your back.

“Way to use your freakish tallness to take us through to the finalssss!” Emily says, her chin resting on the top of your head and you snort.

“I knew it was good for SOMETHING.” You snicker as the woman slides of your back before sprinting towards Lindsey and Rose.

Meanwhile, you make your way towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.

“So, what did you think of my performance?” You ask and she shakes her head.

“Ehhh.” She says and you throw your head back with a groan.

Alex nudges you with her hip.

“I’m kidding, you did great.”

You smile, throwing your arm around her middle, giving her side a squeeze, something that makes her cheeks flush.

“I do have to admit...” You say, leaning towards her, the proximity between you making her cheeks darken.

“I really like seeing you all wet.” You wink and she gives you a shove.

“Stop it.” She says, sticking her tongue out.

“I already told you, I’m too old for you.” She says exasperatedly and you shrug.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” You bite your bottom lip, noting the way Alex’s throat bobs.

“Y/N?” You turn, smiling when you see that you’re being waved over for an interview.

You back away from Alex, your eyes raking down her front, your tongue swiping at your lips.

“I think you’re JUST the right age for me.” You smirk, sending her another wink before jogging towards the waiting analyst.

Alex groans, rolling her eyes.

Despite the fact that Alex had told you multiple times that she was far too old for you, you continued to flirt relentlessly.

In all honesty, she HAD thought about it, but she knew you should be with someone your own age, not someone 10 years your senior.

“Mommyyyy!”

Alex smiles scooping Charlie up in her arms as she darts across the field, her little arms wrapping around her neck.

Not only was she 10 years your senior, but a mother as well, meaning her number one priority was Charlie, and would always be Charlie.

Across the field, you watch the pair with a soft smile.

“Jesus Christ, do you ever think of ANYTHING else?” Emily asks, throwing an arm around you and you grin.

“Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.” You smirk, unable to take your eyes off the forward as she makes the way around the field, Charlie in her arms.

“I mean, Alex IS milf material.” Emily shrugs, not realizing Kelley was standing behind her.

“I’m totally going to tell her you said that.” The older woman snickers and Emily’s eyes widen, her cheeks flushing.

“You wouldn’t dare...!” She says, chasing after Kelley as she sprints towards Alex.

You shake your head as you turn, shaking your opponent’s waiting hands.

You knew deep down you probably never had a chance with Alex Morgan, but there was no harm in flirting, was there?

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

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were falling for me.” You tease as you hoist Alex to her feet after she goes down at practice.

Alex’s blue orbs widen when you reach towards her face, delicately brushing a piece of grass off her forehead.

She’s unable to stop her breath from hitching when your fingertips lightly graze her jawline, your eyes holding a softness she hadn’t seen all that often.

You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing as your bravado completely shifts, a cocky grin stretching across your face.

You send her a wink before making your back to your position on the field.

Alex’s throat bobs as you lift your shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from your face, revealing the chiseled muscle that hid beneath your shirt.

“Jan, you’ve got some drool on your chin.” Kelley teases as she jogs passed, earning a glare from the seasoned forward.

“I do not.” She grumbles and Kelley snorts.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Alex turns away with a growl, again finding you on the field as you sprint towards Emily Sonnett, sliding in and swiping the ball from her, the blonde playfully nudging you on her way by.

Watching the interaction makes something stir within Alex, her blue orbs narrowing as she glares at the blonde.

She clears her throat, giving her head a shake before making her way down field and back into the scrimmage, putting whatever was churning in her stomach at the back of her mind.

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

The more she saw you and Emily interact, the more her stomach churned, it didn’t take her long to realize exactly what she was feeling.

It was jealousy.

She tried her best to ignore it, but it continued to rear its ugly head.

It was then she realized she needed to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore what she was feeling, you deserved someone your own age, not someone 10 years older than you.

It was in that moment she decided she had to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore your constant flirting, she had to avoid you, she had to stop the feeling in her chest when she saw you with Emily Sonnett.

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

“Looking good as always Morgan.” You wink as the huddle breaks, your eyes widening when Alex completely ignores you and turns away, jogging onto the field.

You frown, your brows knitted in confusion.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, her hand resting on your back.

You shake your head.

“N-Nothing.” You mumble, slowly making your way towards the bench.

Maybe she hadn’t heard you?

Maybe she was so focused on the game that she just forgot to respond?

Whatever it was, it made your heart ache.

The whistle blows and you jump, pulled out of your thoughts when the fans cheer and the game ultimately starts.

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

When the halftime whistle blows, you jog towards Alex, her throat visibly bobbing.

“Showing off for me?" You tease, screeching to a halt when Alex silently walks past you, in no way acknowledging your presence.

It was then you realize that she HAD heard you earlier, she'd just chose to ignore you, something that tears your heart in two.

“Why the long face?” Emily asks as she slings her arm around your shoulders, your frown deepening.

“Alex is ignoring me...” You mumble sadly, Emily’s brows furrow.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” She asks and you shake your head, the two of you making your way towards the locker room.

“Not that I know of.” You say, Emily humming.

“Maybe she’s just focused on the game?” She says, her head cocked to the side, and you shrug dejectedly.

“Yeah, maybe.”

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

It turns out, Alex’s refusal to talk to you had absolutely nothing to do with the game considering once you’d gotten onto the bus, when you even looked in her direction, she turned away, shoving her air pods in her ears.

Your shoulders hunch as you drop down into an empty seat, your head hanging sadly.

“Hey, what’s wrong kid?” Kelley asks, rubbing your back on her way by and you shake your head.

“Nothing.”

Kelley scoffs, flopping down in the seat beside you.

“That’s bullshit.” She says and you sigh deeply.

“Alex won’t talk to me, and I don’t know why.” You mumble sadly, Kelley’s eyes narrowing, her brows furrow.

“When did that start?” She asks, her brown orbs darting from you to the back of Alex’s head and back.

“Today.” You swallow hard, wiggling in your seat.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Kelley asks, your eyes widening in horror as you turn abruptly towards her.

“Please don’t, maybe she just wants space, I don’t know.” You shrug, Kelley studying your face for a moment before nodding.

“Okay kid, but if you want me to, let me know.” She says, ruffling your hair, which makes you smile.

“I will.”

Kelley makes her way towards the back of the bus, taking a seat beside Emily.

“Do you know what’s going on with Alex and Y/N?” She asks the blonde shrugging.

“Y/N just said she’s ignoring her.”

Kelley hums, her brown orbs staring holes in the back of Alex’s head.

She had no idea why Alex’s was ignoring you, but she intended to find out.

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

“What’s going on between you and Y/N?” Kelley asks that night when Alex makes her way into the room after taking a shower, the woman stiffening.

“N-Nothing.” She says nonchalantly, refusing to look at the defender whose eyes narrow.

“Emily said she tried to talk to you and that you ignored her.”

Alex’s throat bobs, something her friend takes note of.

“I-I just didn’t hear her.” She says, the excuse lame, even to her own ears.

Kelley hums, eyeing the woman intently.

“Well, it really upset her.” She comments, the thought of you being upset making her stomach lurch.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.”

Kelley hums, turning to her phone when it chimes, busying herself with whatever is on its screen.

Alex turns away, her gaze falling to her lap.

She knew it would be better for the both of you if you didn’t speak to one another at all.

If you spoke again, the flirting would start back up and she wasn’t sure if she could handle that, not with the feelings currently stirring in her chest at just the thought of you.

Alex takes a deep breath, laying back in bed, her head resting against the hotel’s pillows.

She was convinced she was making the right decision, you deserved someone your own age, and that obviously wasn’t her.

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

Unfortunately for you, the remainder of your time spent together is much of the same, you attempting to speak to Alex, and Alex completely ignoring you.

Needless to say, when you went home to Gotham FC, your tail was firmly trapped between your legs.

“Come on kid, cheer up.” Kelley says as she slings an arm around your middle.

You whine.

“I just don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble sadly, Kelley frowning.

“I don’t think you actually did anything wrong...” She sighs, running a hand down your back.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your head cocked to the side, brows knitted in confusion.

“Whatever is going on, it’s on her end, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes widen, a small smile ticking the corners of your mouth upward.

“Really?” You whisper the older woman pulling you in and giving you a squeeze.

“Really.” She says, her brown orbs widening at the sound of a whistle blowing.

“That’s our queue.” She says as she darts across the field, twisting on her heels midway.

“Just, don’t let it get to you, okay?” She smiles and you nod, jogging after her, hopeful that practice would take your mind off of the San Diego Wave captain.

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

Your mind isn’t off of Alex Morgan long considering Gotham FC and San Diego Wave go head-to-head in a clash at Red Bull Arena soon after the international break.

Much like she had during the Gold Cup, Alex refused to acknowledge your presence, avoiding you as much as possible, the only close contact you made with her being on the field.

It’s only after the game that Alex approaches you, your heart stalling in your chest, the thought that the woman may acknowledge your presence making your heart race.

That’s until she actually gets to you, her blue orbs darting to your Y/E/C’s before she turns away.

“Good game.” She mumbles, refusing your outstretched hand and continuing to make her way around the field.

You stay rooted in place, tears stinging your eyes as you watch Alex walk away.

Unbeknownst to you, Kelley O’Hara and Emily Sonnett had witnessed the exchange and needless to say, they were FAR from happy.

“What the hell was that about?” Emily asks Kelley before jogging towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind, pushing herself up on her tiptoes so her chin can rest on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.” She whispers in your ear, frowning when you turn in her hold, revealing the tears glistening in your Y/E/C eyes.

Emily holds you tightly, shooting a glare over your shoulder at Alex when she catches her blue orbs.

That’s not all she sees, however.

She also sees Kelley stomping her way towards Alex, Alex’s eyes widening when she sees the look of anger on Kelley O’Hara’s face.

“What’s--

“What’s your problem?” Kelley growls, the San Diego captain’s brows arching.

“What do you mean?” She asks, dumbly and Kelley scoffs.

“You know what I mean Jan, look at her.” She motions behind her at you, Emily’s arm wrapped tightly around your middle, the woman catching sight of the tears on your cheeks as the blonde guides you towards the benches, her hazel orbs narrowed as they meet Alex’s blues.

“Do you even care about what you’re doing to her?” Kelley asks, Alex’s gaze falling to her feet, unable to look at the defender standing in front of her.

“Of course I care.” She whispers and Kelley shakes her head.

“It REALLY looks like it.” She growls, stepping closer to Alex, her voice dropping below a whisper.

“The sooner you accept what you’re feeling for her, the sooner you’ll both be happy.”

Alex’s head snaps upward, her eyes locking with Kelley’s.

“I don’t have feelings for her.” She mumbles and Kelley scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“That’s why you’re pushing her away, isn’t it?” She asks but gets no response.

“You know, your age doesn’t matter.” She says, noting the bob of Alex’s throat.

“It does Kel.” She mutters and Kelley rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, only to you, no one else cares Al.” She shakes her head and Alex’s nostrils flare.

“I’m a mom Kelley, I have more than just screwing around on my mind.”

Kelley groans.

“You do realize, it isn’t JUST about screwing around for her, right?” She asks, Alex’s brows knitting in confusion.

Kelley pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Her bravado is all an act Jan; she only acts that way because she’s afraid of facing her real feelings for you.” She sighs deeply, watching as realization dawns on Alex’s face.

It’s then that she spots you across the field, Charlie racing towards you, wrapping her tiny arms around your legs.

Almost immediately, you lift her into the air with a small smile, giving her a playful spin, the little girl giggling wildly.

“Oh.” Alex whispers, and Kelley snorts.

“Yeah, oh.” She says with an annoyed eye roll.

“Now, fix it.” She says before making her way towards the sidelines where her teammates have gathered.

Alex turns back to you, her blue orbs catching your Y/E/C’s, the smile that graced your face shifting to a small frown as you slowly place Charlie on the ground and nod in Alex’s direction, the little girl sprinting towards her mother.

It was in that moment, as you turned away from her, that she knew she had to fix it.

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

When you shuffled through your apartment that night, you were exhausted, not only from the physical exertion on the game, but emotionally as well.

You never expected for Alex to ignore you directly to your face, but she did, and that fact made your heart ache.

You still didn’t know what you did wrong, maybe you’d come off too strongly with your flirting?

Maybe she’d finally realized that your bravado was only for show, used to mask your true feelings for the older woman.

You flop down on your couch’s surface, your eyes fluttering shut, hopeful that sleep would take you momentarily.

Just as you’re on the cusp of sleep, however, a light tapping makes your eyes flutter, open your brows furrowed in confusion.

It isn’t long before the light taps repeat, and it’s then you realize that someone is knocking on your apartment door.

You reluctantly leave your place on the couch before shuffling to the door and leaning against it.

“Who is it?” You ask, your voice scratchy.

You listen intently, a soft shuffling behind the door before a soft voice replies.

“It’s Alex.”

Silence envelopes the two of you before you slowly open the door, your brows furrowed as you peer through the crack, coming face to face with the woman who had been avoiding you for months.

You pull the door the rest of the way open, your eyes studying Alex’s face intently, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly blurts out, your eyes widening as Alex’s blue orbs remain focused on the floor.

You find yourself taking a step to the side moments later, waving your arm, beckoning her to enter your apartment, something that she almost instantly does.

Your throat bobs as you push the door shut behind her, your back to the older woman.

You knew whatever was about to happen, there was no going back, but now you had no choice, you had to face Alex Morgan, you had to find out what was going on between the two of you.

Your breath catches in your throat when a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, your heart racing when you feel Alex bury her face between your shoulder blades.

You stiffen, unsure of what you should do, did you cover Alex’s hands with your own, or did you push her away?

Subconsciously, your hands drift to Alex’s gently resting on top of hers, the woman sighing against your back.

“I’m sorry I was so stupid.” She whispers, nuzzling against your back.

Your heart swells in your chest, the feeling of her pressed against your back everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Why did you ignore me...?” You ask, humming when Alex pushes her fingers between your own.

“I was jealous.” She mumbles against your back, your brows furrowing as you turn in her hold.

“Of what?” You ask, your hands finding their way to Alex’s waist.

She shrugs, her breath hitching when you gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger.

Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly before she sighs loudly.

“Seeing you with Emily, I couldn’t help but think you deserved someone your own age.” She whispers and you shake your head, Alex’s breath hitching when you turn the tables, pressing her back against your apartment door.

“I don’t want anyone my own age, I want you.” You whisper, Alex’s throat bobbing as her eyes dart from your Y/E/C orbs to your lips and back.

Much to your surprise, she lunges forwards, her lips meeting yours in a tender, and long overdue kiss.

You kiss back without hesitation, your palms resting on the wall on either side of Alex’s head as you kiss softly.

Alex’s hands slip to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as you kiss passionately.

You’re unable to stop yourself from chuckling when you pull back, the woman pinned to the wall whining loudly as you bury your face in her neck, nuzzling her jawline.

“Our first kiss and you’re already addicted.” You tease, earning an eye roll.

“Shut up.” She mumbles before pulling you back in for another kiss.

Eventually, you make your way to the couch, Alex’s pinned beneath you as you kiss softly, giggling loudly when you bury your face in her neck, peppering her flesh with kisses.

You pull back reluctantly, your eyes locking with Alex’s bright blue orbs.

She smiles softly when you lean in, kissing her lips over and over again until she starts laughing.

It isn’t long before you’re lowering yourself on top of her, her legs spread as you rest your head against her chest, the woman drawing small patterns against your back.

You nuzzle into the crook of her neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your heart rate slows, your earlier exhaustion making itself known.

“What does this mean for us...?” You slur, unable to fight your fluttering eyelids as they close.

Alex hums, her lips parting to answer, that is until she realizes you’d drifted off.

She holds you tightly to her chest, feeling you smile against her neck as you nuzzle closer.

“It means I’m going to stop being such an idiot and worrying about what others think, and worry about what I want, and that’s you.” She turns her head, kissing your forehead before her own eyes flutter shut.

Thankfully, Kelley had offered to keep Charlie for the night, meaning she could remain where she currently was, your body weight on top of her as you slept soundly in her arms.

You were the first to wake the next morning, beaming when you realized that what had happened the following night wasn’t a dream, Alex Morgan was fast asleep beneath you, her arms wrapped tightly around you as she slept peacefully, a smile on her face.

You hum, burying your face back in her neck as you fall back asleep, eager to see what the future held for you and Alex Morgan.

#uswnt x reader #alex morgan x reader

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duuhrayliegh · 2 days

Text

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

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adorabluesposts · 2 days

Note

I’m a massively hopeless romantic and hopelessly in love with our short paranoid chaotic duck loving king and the THINGS I WOULD DO TO THIS MAN JUST BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

Anyway thoughts about he’d react to constant affection because my love is physical affection and maybe sometimes giving him handmade gifts because nothing beats time wasted on handmade shit. I LOVE THIS MAN SM ITS TOO MUCH 😭😭😭

I WANNA CONSTANTLY SHOWER HIM WITH KISSES AND PRAISES PLS.

Basically requesting a fluff with all of the above 💀💀

I also love your writing style sm, hope you’re having a great day/night

buckle up cause this is gonna be SWEET!

Thanks for the appreciation on my writing, I'm still working on it 😭💖 love this sm. This is for the physical affection ppl 🫶🏻

a/n:.. added some acts of service love language too I'm so sorry 😭

NOT PROFFRED.

PROOFREA. PROOFREWD. I can't spell.

NOT PROOFREAD.

(I managed)

divider by @al-of-the-stars. NOT MINE!!

It's not a surprise Lucifer's a sucker for physical attention. Not in a sexual way, just hugs and holding hands in the most unusual times.

At first you started off with 'baby steps', occasionally giving him a kiss on his cheek or lips, holding his hand or playing with his suit when he didn't expect it, just to see how he'd react.

He would get flustered, turn into a blushing mess and pretty much feel like his knees would give oit at any minute. He would never admit what an impact you had on him, though.

When the showers of affection got more frequent and he realised what you were doing, every chance he'd get he would basically invite you to do those things for him. He loved tricking you into thinking he didn't know what your love language was and , even if he still got all flustered and was still surprised because he, obviously, didn't know what to expect (a kiss or a hug), he convinced himself he was just acting so flustered to trick you, again.

Of course Lucifer's love for you gets more and more powerful with every kiss.

His wife left him, after all, so he needs all the affection you can offer. He really loves you.

Even though you noticed he still wears his wedding ring sometimes, you know how hard it is to let go, and you showering him with affection actually helps him get through it!

"Good morning, handsome!" You shower his sleepy face with kisses as he slowly wakes up, watching his grumpy face turn into a weak, tired smile.

"Morning" He smiles and cuos your cheek as you pull away, pushing you back in for a kiss.

He notices you're all dressed already and raises an eyebrow, sitting up. "Where are you going?"

"Well, Your Majesty-" He smiles at you, loving how intimate it sounds when you call him that, "-It's Monday. Meaning I have work to get done."

He frowns and you laugh. "Bummer."

"I made you breakfast, so you might as well get changed." You ruffle his hair as he struggles to put it back in place, even if it was tangled already and playfully huffs at you, lecturing you on how his hair must always be perfect as you leave the room.

When he joins you in the kitchen, you gasp in awe, like every morning. You go up to him and praise him for being so good looking, pestering his face with kisses and telling him how you're falling in love over and over again.

He lovea it truly, holding your waist as you praise him. He looks at you with lovesick eyes and a goofy smile and only let's go when hinger takes the best of him. He praises you back, too, for being such a good cook (or not burning the kitchen down.. in certain people's cases aka me).

Before you leave, he makes sure to leave one of his ducks in your bag , knowing that by now you have millions if them in your office, as you leave one of your handmade gifts, drawings, or sweets in your shared room.

He almost never wants to let you go to work, turning the radio on to twirl you around in the kitchen and kiss your face or hands until it gets so late you either have to run to work or make him open up a portal for you.

It's not his fault he just loves the way you love him.

Ive never written something so fast in my entire life. THE THINGS LUCI DOES TO ME OMG.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader

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eli0004 · 2 days

Text

Rain, Rain

Sub!Levi x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: not much of a plot, just messing around with Levi in an office while it’s storming outside.

Warnings: hand job, fist-fucking, praise, very slight pain pain play, love confessions, very soft sappy shit

A/N: This was finished way sooner than i thought it would be, i got carried away 😭 also i couldn’t think of a title that wasn’t cringe, please ignore how cliche that one is.

Before everything went to shit, this kind of rain was the biggest inconvenience for the people within the walls. Closing down market stalls, turning the grass all muddy and the sky bleak and grey. You could almost hear it, the grumbling and moaning on the streets about when this dreadful weather would pass. Nowadays, however, no one bats an eye.

You’d never minded the rain, and truthfully, neither did Levi. It’s good weather for reading indoors, or lulling you both to sleep on nights when your mind is particularly active. Often, the two of you find yourselves sitting by the window, watching the storm clouds rolling in and lighting flashing, commentating to one another every now and again when a particularly loud rumble of thunder cracks through the silence. And the rain is especially lovely when it allows you to tangle up together after particularly difficult expeditions, soft touching and gentle kisses to the sound of the droplets drumming on the window panes.

Almost as if thinking of him summoned him to your door, Levi emerges with two steaming cups, placing one on the desk in front of you.

“It’s really coming down out there.” He gestures towards the window, bringing the cup to his nose and softly inhaling the fragrant aroma before taking a sip.

“It is, isn’t it. I wonder how much longer it’ll go on for.” You respond, glancing down at the black tea in front of you. “Have you got a new one?” You ask. He nods once.

“New shipment, i like this one more than the last one i got. It was dreadfully weak.”

You chuckle softly, taking a sip and nodding. “It is stronger, hm?”

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks up again, and you notice how he has subtly inched himself closer to you.

“The rain made me think of you this morning. I wish we could’ve just taken the day off.”

He doesn’t look away from the window, but you know him well enough by now to know that there is subliminal meaning behind his words. Levi has been missing you.

“I’m glad you’re here now, let’s spend some time together, forget about today.” You reach out to beckon him closer. He willfully obeys, placing a hand on the arm of your chair and leaning down to kiss you. But you pull him in closer, and he rests his weight on his knees, placing them on either side of you. Cupping his cheek gently, you brush a thumb over his lip, leaning in once more.

Your lips meet his, ever so softly, and Levi feels like he’s floating. Nimble fingers find their way, trembling slightly, to the roots of your hair as he allows himself to melt into you completely. Your arms snake around the curve of his lower spine, pulling him down so that he is no longer hovering above you, but now sitting firmly on your lap, knees straddling your thighs. At this, he lets out a soft whimper, but it’s nearly inaudible- disappearing where your lips connect.

Levi is no stranger to this, the two of you have engaged in this sort of heavy kissing in the dark many times, but at this moment he feels strangely vulnerable. Desperation is slowly chipping away at his resolve, and suddenly he’s thinking about how it feels- having you touch more of him, peeling off his clothes. He can almost feel the warmth of your palms against his bare skin. It’s in that moment that he realizes he wants all those things. Levi wants you.

You take notice in this shift in energy, if not by the eagerness with which he’s kissing you, needy and open mouthed, then by the hardness of his cock pressing into your stomach, now noticeable through his uniform pants. You don’t push, opting to see just how far he takes things on his own initiative.

You bring one hand up to the back of his head, affectionately tugging at the thick, inky-black strands of hair. His grip on your own hair tightens at this, and he groans softly against your lips, breaking the kiss only for a moment before returning again with three times the desperation. Returning your hand to his waist, you attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Close is not enough.

Levi gasps, breathing air straight from your lungs as the motion of your adjustments sends him slightly forward, his erection pressing deliciously against your lower stomach. The feeling sends his mind reeling, and he experimentally rolls his hips forward again in attempts to replicate the feeling. At the sight of him unraveling before you, so sensitive to every touch, you raise a brow, smirking against his lips.

“You ok, Levi?” You whisper, eyes meeting his in the darkness for only a moment before he casts them downward again. He hesitates, as if he’s about to make a decision that will change the course of his entire life, hands dropping from your hair and down to his lap.

“Yeah, i’m fine. Do you think…tonight would be a good night to…y’know…” he feels his cheeks burn, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the chair-cushion as he awaits your response. You grin softly, rubbing your palms up and down his thick thighs, softly kneading at them.

“I’m not sure i do, what is it you’re asking for?”

“Tch…you do know, I’m being serious.” He scolds you, rolling his eyes. “I want to.”

Your eyes finally meet his as he absentmindedly leans in a bit closer, and you take notice of newfound vulnerability that shines through them. His gaze is soft and longing- a stark contrast to his usual laser-focused expression- and you bring a hand up to trace a finger, softly over the wrinkles it’s left behind. Over the crease between his brows, the crows feet by his eyes, the dark bags beneath them from his many nights of exhaustion. He leans into your touch, and you speak through the silence.

“I love you.”

Levi is unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he crashes them against yours once again before you can comment on it. His kisses are heated, almost aggressive, and for a split second you’re taken aback by it, closing your eyes and letting your grip on his thighs loosen.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding up your neck, cupping your cheeks gently before re-tangling his fingers into your hair. You hum softly against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth just enough to tease. Unsatisfied, you allow one arm to pull him snugly against you again, bringing your other to grip the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and forcing your tongue past his lips. He moans softly at this, exhaling through his nose.

Levi grinds himself forward against your stomach once again, languidly rolling his hips and pressing his dick firmly against your abdomen. By now, your mind is reeling with the thought of having him do this without those god forsaken pants to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, you look down, snapping open the buckle of his belt and nearly tearing the zipper of his pants down. He lifts himself up off your lap to shimmy out of them, tearing off his shirt in the process, as you peel off your own shirt.

Once restrictive fabric is discarded, Levi re-positions himself on top of you, shivering slightly as the air nips at his bare skin. You don’t notice the chill, already busy pressing open mouthed kisses to his bare shoulders, over his collar bone, the skin of his neck. Levi tilts his head back ever so slightly, arching his back as you trail your fingers, feather-light, down his spine. How desperately you want to leave marks there on the column of his throat, not as an act of possession, but to serve as a reminder of this moment for you to look back on tomorrow morning when the two of you must get up and dressed before sunrise. To watch him anxiously adjust his collar, making sure to hide the evidence from any wandering eyes.

Breaking away from him, you drop your gaze down to observe the wet spot seeping through the front of his underwear. You take a minute to admire the product of your ministrations, before bringing a finger to trace the dampness there. He gasps, head falling forward and bangs flopping over his eyes.

“Don’t tease, damn it…please” he breathes, shakily against your ear. “I want you.”

“I can tell.” You chuckle. Deciding against waiting any longer, you hook your index finger into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it forward to let his cock spring up against his lower belly, smearing that slick wetness below his navel, before letting go and watching it snap against his length like a rubber band. He jumps, surprised at the sting. “Hah…ouch!”

“I want these off too.”

He lifts once again to kick off the final layer, leaving him fully exposed, returning to you to present himself at your mercy. His tongue is poking through his lips as he watches you curiously, as if to try and predict your next course of action.

You place a hand on his hip, smoothing a thumb over the bone and gazing up at him lovingly. Your other hand finds its way to his stomach, open palm and fingers splayed, running it all the way up to his chest and up to his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’re so beautiful, every inch of you, I’m enamored by it all. You know that?” He rolls his eyes, and you wrap your other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly.

“Hnn..ah!” He chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You know that, Levi?” He nods, frantically, and you’re unsure if he even remembers what you’re asking, his body is melting into you, hunching forward. Chuckling softly, you begin to slowly slide your hand up and down, languidly. Thumb circling his tip every so often, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft.

Levi lets his head fall against your shoulder, huffing against your neck, his rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath. You trace over his chest, over his peaked nipple, pinching and rolling it gently between your thumb and forefinger as you continue to stroke him off, and his breath catches in his throat.

“F-fuck~” he whimpers out, jaw slackening as you speed up your pace and tighten your grip. His hips lurch forward and his hands are searching for something to hold onto, settling on gripping the back of your chair with white knuckles, snaking his other arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him, almost in a hug. You can feel his abdominal muscles beginning to tense, and you slow your pace, but Levi isn’t willing to wait any longer. His hand falls from the back of your chair to grab onto your wrist.

Holding it steady, he begins thrusting his hips forward, fucking your hand like it’s sheer instinct. Any other time, you’d stop him, but seeing him so fucked out and desperately humping into your closed fist is what prevents you from doing so. This isn’t something you see often.

Levi is dangerously close, moaning against your ear long and drawn out. Holding him close, you press your mouth against his ear and whisper “good boy, so good. You need to cum? Let go for me, ok?”

His eyes roll back, lids fluttering closed as he freezes, holding his breath for a second as his hips stutter “ah-ah oh god, fuck, i love you, i love you, i love you” he rasps out, gushing thick, creamy ropes over your fist, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as it tears through him. You smile softly at his confession and it’s timing, allowing him to guide your fist over his length to milk himself of any last drops.

And as his breathing slowly returns to normal, his tired body slumps against your own. The rain outside has begun to die down, now only a soft drizzle. You hold him there, as long as he needs, tracing shapes over the skin of his bare back. In the end though, it’s Levi who breaks the silence, whispering against your skin

“let’s get to bed, we can…uh…spend more time together there.”

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #sub!levi #sub!levi ackerman #subby levi #snk levi #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman smut

129 notes · View notes

fadingdaggerr · 2 days

Note

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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gretavangroupie · 3 days

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 18.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Oral F! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

Thirteen hours.

It had been thirteen long hours since you last saw Jake, leaving your room in a hurry of flustered nerves. You were dreading it, but he was nowhere to be found this morning, not a sight or sound from him since late last night. It had been ten hours since his text, coming to you far too early in the morning for your liking. He was sorry. Of course he was sorry. The text came so early in fact, that part of you wondered if he was just arriving back to the hotel from the amp situation, or if he was tossing and turning in his bed in much the same way you were. You loaded into the van bright and early with Wes and Paul, secretly wondering where he was or if he was going to show up at all, but if you had to guess he was likely passed out in his bed five floors up.

Your market list today was short, only a few things for Josh and Sam and the noticeable absence of normal requests from Jake. You didn’t think much of it, getting what you needed before making the trek back to the venue. You took the spare second to give Ruth a quick run down and she was just as confused as you were. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She was speechless and you didn’t blame her.

She insisted you reply to Jake’s early morning text, but you couldn’t. You had no idea where to even start. You wanted to move forward and forget it ever happened, and in order to do that you needed to leave last night behind you. Right? You know that when you do see him today though, things will be tense. Maybe even a little awkward. You take solace in the fact that you will be busy the entire day, making it fairly easy to avoid him and forget about everything, you hoped.

You made your way back into the crew area, flashing your shiny laminated badge to security as you juggle the paper bags in your arms. You navigate the winding corridors of the venue hearing the sounds of rumbling bass and guitar echo through the halls, finding yourself smiling at the fact that this was a sound not many people got to experience. Jake must have made it here after all. Familiar voices laughing a few feet ahead of you snap you back to reality. You see Mia and Lyla hanging out in front of the greenroom, looking at something on one of their phones just as they spot you.

“Y/N! Hey!” Mia shouts, waving you over, “C’mere!”

You turn to head over towards them, stopping short as Lyla grabs one of the bags from your arms. “I’ll take one of those!”

“Oh, thanks!” you smile, feeling Mia place her hand on your arm.

“We just were talking a little while ago about how much fun we had with you yesterday. I know you don’t really know us that well yet, but you are welcome to hang with us whenever you want. Seriously. We want to get to know you, we need another girl on our side!”

“That’s so nice! Thank you so much, I appreciate that, really,” you answer, adjusting your grip on the bag in your hand. “I will take you up on that, yesterday was really cool.”

“Yeah, so what did you get into after we went back to the hotel?” Lyla asks, tilting her head a bit.

“Oh, I just…I went to my room and hung out for a while, went and did a little sightseeing of my own and ordered room service and fell asleep. I was pretty exhausted after walking all day,” you say, bending the truth just a touch.

“Huh, well, call us next time, hate for you to go out all alone,” Mia says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to Lyla. It almost seems as if she's waiting for you to correct her.

It strikes you as a little suspicious but you know better than to play into it. “Yeah, absolutely. But hey I have to go get this set up, they will be looking for it any second.”

“Yeah yeah, no problem, go, I know how Sam gets,” Lyla laughs, handing the bag back to you.

“Thanks again, I’ll find you two later!” you shout over your shoulder.

You rush into the greenroom, furiously arranging the food and drinks before soundcheck finishes. You want to get things set up, done, and be gone before they ever step foot in the room. Sure you told yourself you were going to be mature about things, but you weren’t going to put yourself in the line of fire. In fact, you had yet to see any of the guys today, and part of you was thankful. Trying to make awkward small talk with them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now.

You wipe your hands on your pants as you finish placing the drinks into the cooler, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Paul

3:43PM: Need another case of Topos and a bottle of soda water please

Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?

You

3:44PM: No problem, be back soon.

—

Two stores and thirty minutes later you are walking back to the venue, braving the cold with the case of drinks and bottle of soda water in hand. Your jacket is zipped all the way up to your neck, and still the wind is whipping right through you. You can see the venue gates a block away but the wind is making it feel like ten. Again you flash your badge to security, the burly man opening the gates to let you into the back parking lot. As you turn the corner to approach the entrance, you’re stopped in your tracks. Standing outside the doors, leaning against the brick wall is Jake. Of course.

He doesn’t see you, not yet at least. His back is turned a bit to cut the wind. Clad in only a t-shirt and his corduroy jacket, you know he is freezing. The smoke billows from his lips, whooshing away quickly as the wind whips it into the air. His lips. His perfectly pink, heart shaped lips that were all over your body last night. Kissing and biting and… No. Stop it. You try to compose yourself, gripping the items in your hands as you head toward the door, prepared to say as little as possible to him, and walk straight inside.

That of course, did not happen.

“Have any trouble finding it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes as he rolls his smoke out between his fingers, dropping the burnt tobacco into the grass.

“Oh, um, no no, all good,” you answer nervously. Which was also a lie, you were kinda sweating finding the Topos for a second.

Your eyes catch on his jacket, your mind swirling with the memory of his cologne that lingers in its fibers. You feel a tinge of happiness in your chest at the fact he is talking to you, though, why wouldn’t he be? You didn’t do anything wrong. You watch his lips twitch a little, and you can tell that he seems almost nervous to talk to you.

“When are you ever gonna ask me for the things you want?” you ask playfully, trying to ease his anxiety. It never happened, remember?

He turns his body completely, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at you, “Well, the last time I texted you, you left me on read. So I figure I will just get my own things, now.”

Fuck, okay that plan backfired.

You bite your lips together and look down to the ground, unsure of what to even say to that. He drops his hands to his sides as he looks at you, and you feel your body temperature start to rise under his gaze. The wind blows his hair across his face, in turn sending the smell of his cologne barrelling past you. You feel bad for him, of course…if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t even be speaking to him right now, let alone be acting even the littlest bit flirty. You shiver a little, from the cold or the smell of his cologne, you aren’t sure.

“I need to get this inside,” you stammer, at a complete loss on how to respond to that.

He nods his head and grabs the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for you to go, but thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

Fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

You rush back into the green room, finding Sam and Danny playing around with a mini golf toy.

“Here you go Sam! Sorry! Had to go to two places to find the kind you like,” you smile, ripping the box open.

“My hero!” he shouts, rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

You smile as he sets you down, tossing a can to Daniel, and then cracking the lid on his own. The two of them saunter back through the greenroom doors, leaving you alone to throw the rest of them into the cooler.

You pull your phone from your bag, bringing up your text thread with Jake and staring at his last message. Maybe Ruth was right, you should respond. Now especially after that, after knowing he was still beating himself up over it. You type, delete and retype your message several times before finally landing on what felt right, and even more, you really mean it.

You

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

JAKE POV

As you continue to stand outside the venue and let the wind cut you in two, you wonder if your plan to play it smooth actually worked. She didn’t fully ignore you, she didn’t cuss you out, she didn’t laugh in your face… but she did speak. Only a few words, but you’ll take what you can get. It was hard to even say those few words to her, the instant courage you had to muster to speak to her after seeing her so unexpectedly almost threw you for a loop, but somehow, your words came out smoothly, concisely, and without sounding like you were a complete buffoon.

You relax a little as you know she is inside doing her duties, and you busy yourself pacing around the back exit to keep warm. The pre-show nerves start coming about this time of day, and sometimes it feels good to step out into the blistering cold for that extra shot of adrenaline to get your blood pumping. You jump up and down, shoving your hands in your pockets as you wait just a few more minutes… wanting to avoid having to make any more awkward conversation with her than you already had.

As your hand hits your pocket, though, you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out, seeing a notification that she has finally texted you back.

Y/N

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

You read the text no less than fifteen times, smiling from ear to ear before anxiety sets in, making you think that maybe she is just being nice. But you do have something to apologize for. You were the reason for a completely failed night, a shitty end to the perfect “date”, left her pissed and unsatisfied, the absolute worst. All you’ve been able to think about all day long is how you are going to explain everything, and make it up to her. You know you can’t until after the show, but just the little bit of contact from her makes you feel like you could move mountains. Progress is progress.

You’re pacing the hallways going back and forth between backstage and the green room, keeping yourself busy before you head to jam a little with the guys.

“Hey, man. You good?” Sam asks as you’re brushing past him in a doorway. His tone is more inquisitive than normal, and the volume of his voice is the one he uses when he’s unsure, or in this case, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good. I mean… I wasn’t, really, but I am now,” you answer, pushing your sunglasses back up on your head. You watch his eyebrows furrow at your answer, wondering if you caught onto his loaded question.

“I heard about your amp, what happened?” he asks.

“I’m not sure, something with the wiring. Had a gash in the cabinet but the harness was all damaged to shit. They’re getting a rental, though… should be here soon,” you glance at your watch to double check the time, praying that you will have enough time to check it before tonight.

“Mmm, maybe not…” Sam stops in his tracks, and turns the opposite way to go back out to the stage. “Let me take a look at it.”

You’re surprised by him, but follow his quick steps anyway. You’re close behind him as you navigate the narrow halls, passing crew and staff left and right. And of course, one of them just happens to be Y/N. Her eyes widen as she sees the two of you.

“HEY!” Sam yells at her, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Daniel told me to tell you thank you for the soda water and that he appreciates it,” Sam cheeses a giant smile at her as she cups her hand over his, still squeezing her shoulder.

“No problem at all, Sam,” she giggles. “Man, you guys are really nice, no one has ever thanked me for getting them things this much,” she narrows her eyes at you, pursing her lips into the smallest smile. Mental note, thank her extra for whatever she decides to bring you to drink tonight…

“Well I mean we’re all assholes but we at least have manners,” he replies, starting to head toward the stage again. You part ways, but just her eyes meeting yours again was enough to make your heart flutter.

Sam skips every other step as he climbs the metal stairs to the stage, making his way over to your damaged amp that has been set to the side. “Alright, let’s see…” he squats down and pulls the back off, and starts to fidget with the wiring inside. “Oh, shit, yeah. I see now…” He pulls up the flashlight on his phone as you watch him think. Suddenly he stands and runs over to your cabinet, grabbing two handfuls of tools before making his way back and dropping them by your side. He then hops over to his own setup and pulls the back off of one of his own amps, pulling a few things from it, too. What the fuck is he doing?

He returns a minute later with some of the guts of his own amp, and pieces of it that you are sure you’ve never even seen before. He kneels back down and grabs a screwdriver, going back to work.

“So, you say you’re good now, but you weren’t, right?” he asks. “You’ve been acting kinda backward lately.”

“No I haven’t,” you kick back.

His eyes quickly scan to yours as his hands work at a quick pace. “Yeah, you have. I’m not stupid.”

You sigh, knowing that he isn’t gonna give it up. “I’ve just… got some other shit going on right now, I’ll–I’ll explain it all later once I get it dealt with,” you lie. The half-assed explanation will have to do for now, there is no way you are going into detail about all the good and bad happening in your life, especially since Lyla may be giving Sam a completely different story than the one you would give him.

You watch as he effortlessly completely replaces the wire housing, splicing the old wire at the perfect spot before tightening it back into place again. “There, that should do it…”

“Does your amp not need that stuff?” you ask, leaning your hands on your knees as you watch him.

“Eh, yeah, but I think this will be okay,” he says. “Alright, fire it up!” he yells at the techs, and you take that as your cue to grab your guitar to test it out. You plug the wire in and wait for Sam to get the thumbs-up from the booth. You play a single chord, hearing it ring across the arena with near-perfection.

“Holy shit Sam, how did you do that?!” your jaw is hanging slack as you make your way back over to him. “The techs couldn’t even figure it out…”

He wipes his hands against each other and stands with his hands on his hips like a proud father. “Eh, been watching Mark for a long time, now. Youtube deep-dives, ya know. Picked up on a few things.”

“Shit, I’m impressed,” you laugh. And you really, really were.

“Yeah, ya know, sometimes finding the root of the problem is the first step in making things work out how you want them to, know what I mean?” He bumps your side with his elbow. Yep. His first question was definitely loaded.

You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”

“No problem.” He walks a little closer to you, barely twisting a peg on the headstock of your guitar. “There, now you’re tuned, too.”

You glance at the stock, seeing that he was right, the little fucker. You watch as he skips down the stairs again, throwing one finger in the air above him, screaming, “Cancel the rental!”

—

You and Sam decide to wander around the empty venue for a while, checking out the view from the top row of seats, enjoying a shared blunt as time ticks by. You don’t get to spend much time with just Sam, but every now and then you find a moment like this. You’re close with Sam, in a different way than you are with Josh. He understands things differently than Josh, and for a moment as the smoke swirls through your veins you consider asking him for advice about Isla.

You know it's a dangerous game, but without the influence of Lyla you think he would answer truthfully. Passing the blunt back to him you start to speak, but are quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing a name on the screen that you’d been waiting for for a few days.

“Hey, let me take this, I’ll meet you back in the green room?” you ask, hoping he will catch the drift.

His face twists up in confusion, “Huh? You never answer your phone.”

“It’s Chris. I’ve been waiting on this call. Let me grab it,” you say, flashing the screen towards him.

“Oh, oh. About your new band with your new friends that aren’t me and Josh and Daniel. That's fine, yeah yeah take the call,” he says playfully.

“Old friends Sam, and don’t be like that…” you chide.

“No, it’s totally fine, cheater, answer before he hangs up,” he smiles, elbowing you as he stands up. You tap the green icon as he starts to walk away, clearing your throat and stifling back a smile.

“Chris…” you answer.

“Jake…” he answers, a happy lilt in his tone.

“I’m guessing this means we’re doing it?”

You hear him laugh on the other end of the phone, “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”

—

“Jake, you good?” Danny asks, standing up from his practice kit.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m feelin’ really good actually,” you answer truthfully. You stand, placing your guitar into the stand and shaking out your hands as Josh steps up towards you.

“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Followin’ you…”

You do follow him back to the greenroom, needing a drink to get your blood moving and to shake those pre show jitters. As you step over the threshold you spot Y/N sitting on a couch talking to Lyla, Ty, and Mia. You wonder for a second if she has mentioned anything about what happened last night, but from the happy look on their faces you know it’s likely they know nothing about the two of you or what transpired last night.

You walk over to the drink table, Josh already getting started on making a drink for the two of you. You laugh at his heavy handed pour, but accept it graciously. You can hear the rumble of the crowd, the opener finishing up their set this very minute. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, catching her looking at you for just a second before looking away. The feeling of her eyes on you has your chest warming up, no alcohol needed.

In all reality you were ready for this show to be over. You knew that as soon as you got the chance you were going to whisk her away to talk about last night, explain things, and hope she understood. You just had to get through this show.

You grab the drink from Josh and make your way over to the empty couch across the room, sitting at the very end and crossing your leg over your knee. You know you’ve got about thirty minutes until you need to walk, and you still need to change, but a quick drink would do you some good so you enjoy the few moments listening to Josh ramble.

Just as you start to relax you notice Y/N standing from her place on the couch and walking over towards the corner of the room. You try not to stare, knowing Mia and Lyla’s eyes are on you but you have an idea of what she may be doing, so you sit back and watch to find out.

You hear her walkie talkie chattering from across the room, the time until stage is growing smaller and smaller. As she stands back up she turns around and looks at you, letting her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds before she walks out of the room with your bottle of wine in hand. You stifle back the smile on your lips as you think about her going through your bag again. It’s strange, you’d never allowed any of the other runners to do that, but she was different. You found yourself excited at the idea of her touching your things, finding your wine and readying your drink for the stage.

You turn back to Josh who has his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin. He clears his throat and makes sure that no one is listening before he speaks, “Are you two good, then?”

You nod your head inconspicuously, sipping at the drink in your hand. “Seems that way.”

He pats his hand on your thigh harshly, “Good, go get changed. We’ve got a show to play.”

Just then, Paul ducks his head through the door looking frazzled as usual, “Boys, twenty minutes.”

Josh tilts his head to you, and you stand up heading for the dressing rooms. You quickly change into your suit and slip into your boots, ready to swipe on some eyeliner before you hit the stage. You hear your phone buzz on the countertop, and it zaps all of your attention. You are practically stumbling over your own feet to get to it, hoping to see something from Y/N, and much to your delight, it is.

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh fuck, a song.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you want to open it immediately but you know you have to get this eyeliner on first. You grab the pencil and pull your lid down, swiping on the dark black liner, smudging it out with your finger the best you can before repeating it on the other side. All you can think about is what song she added. Will it be happy? Will it be sad? Is she telling you she doesn’t want to do this anymore? That you fucked up?

You cap the liner and toss it into your bag, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look good, you look really good, and you know that a spray of cologne probably wouldn’t hurt. You snatch your phone off the counter and make your way back into the greenroom, finding everyone else dressed and ready to walk.

You make your way to your backpack, crouching down in front of it searching for the small glass bottle of cologne you know is floating around at the bottom. You pull it from the bag and give yourself a generous spray. It calms you, in a way, breathing in the familiar scent. It centers you and reminds you of home.

Unable to wait a single second longer, you tap the notification on your screen bringing up the shared playlist, scrolling to the very bottom. Your heart leaps in your chest when you see her addition, and you know that you are about to play a good show because of it.

You tap the song, letting the sweet and sentimental notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli ring through the air. You turn the volume up probably a little louder than it should be, but you don’t care. It’s not long before Josh notices, peering over at you from the rim of his paper cup.

“Jake, is that Frankie Valli? Holy shit, wait, do you like good music now?” he teases, throwing you a wink.

The chorus echoes through the room, Sam and Lyla obviously enjoying the song as he dances her around the room. He pops a few grapes into his mouth as they spin and you can’t help but to notice that this song alone has brightened everyone's spirits in a matter of seconds. She definitely had that effect on you, but now her magic was being cast on others. You almost wanted to thank her, and you would, tonight. With extra thanks…

You quickly pull up your texts with her, deciding to let her know you saw it without saying too much.

You

8:31PM: 😎

You know it’s risky but you don’t care. You also know the chances of her replying to that are slim, because in all honesty what do you even say to that? But she continues to surprise you, your phone buzzing in your hand before you can even put it back in your bag.

Y/N

8:32PM: 🎸

You can’t seem to shake the smile from your face and you’re glad you are still crouched down in front of your bag, because you know everyone would have a million questions the second they saw your shit-eating grin.

“Let’s go guys, time to walk!” Paul shouts, pulling your attention away from the little guitar emoji. You toss your phone in your bag and straighten out your suit, trying to get your mind back into the zone to play this show. Get through this, then you can talk to her.

Your heart is beating fast though, knowing that at the end of this hallway she is waiting for you. You know you have to play it cool, you don’t want to seem too eager. You clear your throat and fall to the back of the group, saving yourself for last.

You’re fine Jake. Just act natural, be cool.

—

HER POV

The tequila cocktail… the Topo… the spiked hot tea… and…

The shadowed figure is bringing up the rear like the tail end of a parade of sequins and sparkling material, dressed in black satin and glittering in the dim lights, hair flowing back from his shoulders as his right hand falls to his stomach as he walks. His face is contoured by the flashing lights of the stage, showcasing the smudged black eyeliner carefully but heavily painted over the eyes that were boring into you, now.

You feel your hand begin to shake on its own accord, trying not to spill the chalice of white wine that it was, in all honesty, about to drop to the floor below you. You swallow harshly as he makes his way toward you at almost slow-motion speed, his eyes dark and hollow as his presence approaches. Your hand shakily extends the cup, glancing up to him again as he bites his cheeks in, suppressing a smile that reads more like a judgment on behalf of your probably flustered state. Why are you reacting this way? This man literally gave you one of the most awkward exchanges of your night last night…

His fingertips are nearly on fire as they barely graze yours, taking the cup with a quickness.

“Good luck,” you mutter, probably barely audible over the opening orchestral.

He flips his hair out from underneath the strap of his guitar with his free hand, side-eyeing you as he walks toward the stairs to the stage. “Mmm, don’t need it, babe.” As if the pure adrenaline wasn’t already enough to knock you over, his bold act of cocky audacity steals all the breath directly from your lungs, leaving you standing with your mouth agape and your hands dropped at your sides. God damn, why is he like this?

“I don’t know… I’ve seen you with stage fright before…” you retort, suddenly feeling bold enough to joke about what happened the night prior.

“Ohhhh, is that how it’s gonna be?!” he laughs, bumping into your shoulder. “Hope you know that’s not normally how those kinds of nights go for me…” he yells back over the deafening music, avoiding eye contact with you as he takes the first sip from his wine.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, it’s not, is it?”

He shakes his head a little as he begins to ascend the metal stairs. “No. Most definitely not.” Your heart is pounding out of your ribcage as his words ring through your brain, replaying the utter humiliation of last night, followed by his overwhelming acts of confidence in the past minute. “Thank you, though, seriously. For taking care of us.” He leans over the handrail of the steps, leaning down to speak closely in your ear. “But for taking care of me, especially. I plan on returning the favor, don’t worry…”

He stands back up and glides onto the stage, holding his wine up into the air as if to salute your efforts. Your mouth goes dry as you find yourself in a puddle of excited emotions. You can feel your mouth hanging open still from his words, your lips unable to close simply from hearing him say he wants to try again. It's all a conundrum, and now you’re full-on staring at him as he crosses the stage to stand with his brothers, fluffing his hair a little as he pulls a pick from the inside of his jacket, biting it between his front teeth. He turns back to you and winks, placing his own hand under his jaw, signaling for you to pick yours up off of the floor.

—--

Minutes later you’re still standing at the base of the stairs, watching as they begin their night of revelry. Jake’s amp sounds perfect again, and you can tell that his worry of finding a replacement and anxiety of it not making it on time was all for nothing. He treats the stage like it’s his second life, a place where he can release his true inner self, or, maybe, an alternate version of the man that he is. You’re not sure yet, but you have a deep feeling that you will be experiencing it, soon. The thought of that makes your insides feel like they’re blazing with hormones, watching his performance pick up and slow down with each passing second. Yeah, you know for a fact last night was a fluke. Had to be. There’s no way he can’t really actually…nevermind.

You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping that you have enough service to facetime Ruth. You don’t even bother doing the math to see if you’ll be waking her up or not, but you also know that she absolutely won’t care, if this is what she gets to wake up to. You press the green button, watching as it connects with only a little bit of blurriness from the reception.

You plaster a smile on your face as you watch her answer, realizing exactly where you are, and what you’re in the middle of doing. You can’t hear each other, but you turn the screen around, giving her a full view of the show happening from side stage. You watch her face light up, and an ‘OH MY GOD’ form on her lips. You take the time to zoom in on each member, of course, saving Jake for last. He’s the closest to you, so you don’t have to use much zoom at all for her to really see him. ‘That’s him! That’s him, isn’t it?!’ you watch her mouth. Her hand snaps up to cover the lower half of her face as you watch her squirm with excitement. ‘Last night wasn’t real, you gotta let him try again!!!’ you read her lips, and you turn the screen back to yourself.

You roll your eyes, mouthing back an enunciated, ‘I know!’

You let her watch for a few more minutes before the crappy reception disconnects you altogether, and she shoots you a quick text filled with nothing but a long string of random letters, letting you know she was fully freaking out.

Right before the end of the show, you rush back to the green room to clean up the mess of whatever is left behind, replenishing and rearranging everything that needs it. You know the crew will be coming in to collect snacks and waters before their job begins tonight, and you’ve learned to put out almost every single food item that you can, knowing that none of it will go to waste.

As you hear the encore coming to a close, you grab the four black towels waiting for you in your bag, rushing back out to side stage to hand them off to the guys. You find Paul waiting too, ready to give them encouraging back-pats of congratulations. Just like they entered, they exit the same, Jake bringing up the back as if he planned it. You’d been kind enough to hand Sam, Josh, and Danny theirs with sweet words of compliments and praise, but switched it up at the very end, tossing Jake’s towel into the air above him, forcing him to reach high and catch it in mid-air.

The sweat is pouring from his every pore, pooling on his upper lip and center of his stomach. Your mind goes to a dark place for a second, wishing you knew exactly what it would taste like if you were the one to lick it from his lips. He quickly pulls the towel across his face and stomach, finishing off by wiping the back of his neck with it. He then tosses it back in your face, and you catch the smallest breath of his scent filling your nostrils. “You can keep that, all yours,” he jokes as you pull it off your face, responding to him with a look of annoyance.

“You asshole,” you laugh, tucking the towel under your arm as you follow them all backstage. He turns around, yanking the towel back out from your grasp. You watch as he takes two ends and twists them up, wrapping the damp towel in a tight coil. Oh god, he’s not gonna…

You stop, lifting your leg and outstretching your arms in defense of your body. You just know he is about to snap it at you. “Jake, no, please don’t!” you squeal, backing away.

“Don’t worry, ‘m not gonna get you, unless you’re into that kinda thing…”

Son of a bitch, he said that fairly loudly, as you’re surrounded by his brothers, their girlfriends, the crew, your co-workers… fuck.

Your eyes widen as big as they will go as he laughs, continuing to make his way down the hall. You pick up steps again, following him in a flustered mess of confusion. “I’m gonna get Daniel, watch…”

You burst into the greenroom right behind him, the towel still tightly wound and held in his right hand. He makes his way straight for Danny, twirling the towel in the air as he approaches him.

“No, Jake! No!” Danny yells, running away and launching himself onto the couch, but not before you hear a perfectly loud snap of the towel connecting with Danny’s thigh. Danny yelps out in stinging pain as everyone else laughs, Jake taking his time to roll the towel up into his makeshift whip again. “What the fuck?!” Danny yells, trying his best to hide behind Mia. Everyone is running away from him at this point, worried they will be the next victim.

Jake makes contact with Danny’s leg again as he squeals. “That’s for not cueing me into Farewell like we practiced, you asshole!” Jake yells at Danny with a giant smile across his face.

“Leave me alone!” Danny laughs, laying all his weight onto Mia. “I forgot, okay? Fuck!” You can’t help but join in the laughter of everyone filling up the green room, watching their playful display. You feel a sudden strong warmth fill your chest, realizing you get to be a part of this, seeing it all firsthand.

Jake stops, folding the towel back into a nice neat square as he makes his way back to where you stand, handing the towel to you with both hands. “Anyway, told you you could keep this,” he reiterates as you take it from his hands, giving him another glare of petty aggravation.

“Wonderful show guys, as always!” Paul claps his hands together. “This venue has an early curfew, so get your showers and shit together, no lollygagging around, alright?” he barks, popping a pretzel into his mouth before dashing back out the door.

Sam’s the first one out the door to the showers, pulling Lyla behind him. “You guys make the afterparty plans, we’ll do whatever, we don’t care…” he yells over his shoulder as the door slams behind Lyla.

“It’s balls cold out, I know Ty’s not gonna want to go walking around in this shit. And to be honest, I don’t really want to either,” Josh says, taking a seat on the couch beside Ty. “Am I right?” he asks him.

“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds.

You try not to listen in on their conversations as you know they don’t apply to you, but you most definitely are curious to see if Jake decides to partake in their plans. You busy yourself with a giant box of various crackers to fill the time.

“Let’s just go to the hotel bar. I noticed it’s kinda secluded, not very big,” Josh suggests, earning a nod of agreement from Danny and Jake.

“Sounds good to me, make sure Dean knows,” Jake says as he pulls his drenched jacket off, hanging it on a wire hanger. Shit shit shit don’t look don’t look.

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, Y/N, you gonna join us?” Josh’s voice saying your name pulls you from your daydream of thinking about watching Jake take his jacket off again and again, causing you to perk up.

“What? Sorry…”

He laughs. “When you’re done here tonight, meet us at the hotel bar, yeah?” You watch Jake’s head snap your way out of your peripheral.

“Yeah, Y/N, join us…” Mia adds, the smallest bit of songlike quality to her voice again, just like earlier.

You push the flyaway hairs away from your face, blowing a puff of air on them as you tuck the cardboard box of crackers back into the plastic tote. “Uh, yeah, sure. If I can get everything cleaned up in time, I’ll be there…” you answer on the fly, feeling as though you can’t turn the offer down.

Jake stays silent as he picks up his backpack and heads out the door toward the showers, flashing his devious eyes at you before the door shuts behind him.

—

JAKE POV

You only had to dodge the curious eyes of a few fans as you slipped around the corners of the hotel to the bar, being the last one to arrive, like always. Josh is seated at the bar with his back to you while Danny and Sam are standing at a table off to the side with Mia and Lyla. Thankfully, the bar is empty for the most part, only a couple unsuspecting older folks closing out their tabs. You pull out the heavy mahogany chair to the right of Josh, taking a seat as the bartender approaches you.

“Hi, uh. Soda water with lime, please?” you ask, and he nods and flits away. “Where’s Ty?” you ask.

“On his way down in a few minutes. He um, he’s actually walking Y/N down…” he responds, flicking his eyes behind the two of you.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised. “Is that right?” You fold your arms across the bar top as the bartender sets your drink in front of you.

“Yeah, he actually stuck behind a little to help her clean up the green room and get everything put away,” Josh explains further.

You smile as you place your hand on his back. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman, brother. Must say.” Josh grins at your sentiment, pulling his straw between his lips.

“Most kind hearted person I know,” he says. “Speaking of, seems like you and her are on a little better terms now, since we spoke last,” Josh looks behind you again, making sure you are out of earshot from the other guys.

You huff through a breath, not sure whether or not you want to go into much detail of reliving one of the most humiliating nights of your life, thus far. But, maybe talking about it will put it in the past where it belongs. “Yeah, you could say that, I suppose. Had to fuckin’ work for it though…” you laugh through your nose.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

You swallow down a rather large drink of your soda water, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate an answer. “Let’s just say we… had a less than eventful night last night, and I… wasn’t able to…” you take a fast breath. “Too many beers, too many phone calls from my tech, too much bullshit from Isla, I just…” you clench your jaw, trying to say it all without really saying it.

But Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “Ex-fucking-scuse me? Wait, no no no…” he waves his hand in your face as he turns in his seat, running his fingers over his beard. “You seriously couldn’t…”

“That’s right Josh.” You stare straight ahead of you at the mirror behind the top shelf of liquors, finding your defeated reflection staring back at you. You glance at him in the mirror, watching him cover his face with both hands as he silent-laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he cries after a few seconds of laughing at your expense. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s humiliating, and a little sad, actually,” you say flatly. “Go ahead, laugh away, get it out of your system.”

He slaps his palms across the bar top a few times as he catches his breath, trying not to laugh so loud that he causes a scene. “Fuck. Has that ever happened to you? What was…?”

“No, god dammit. It’s never happened. I was sloshed, my phone was ringing incessantly, between Isla’s name popping up on my phone and knowing the crew needed me, I just… she was perfect, man. Beautiful, confident, everything was there, except…”

“...Except… you,” he finishes your sentence.

“Yeah,” you respond with a breath. “It worked out for a few minutes, surprisingly, and fuck if it wasn’t…” you held up the A-OK sign with your fingers, popping a ‘p’ sound. “But then everything went to shit.”

“And that’s why you’re having soda water tonight?”

“Eh, yeah. Just feel like if we’re gonna have a chance to have a conversation about it all, I want to be completely present,” you admit. Suddenly you feel the presence of Danny standing behind the two of you, ordering another round for Sam and the girls. You turn your attention to him. “Speaking of… hey asshole, why the fuck are you still buying Durex condoms? You’re a grown man with money, for god’s sake, use the good shit,” you ask Danny quietly. “You’re not 15 anymore.”

For your sake, so far Danny has done a good job of keeping your secret for you after you went running to his room last night in search of protection, just in case.

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?” Danny asks with wide eyes, looking between you and Josh.

“Don’t worry Daniel, I’m already informed. The youngest of us is not, though, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut to him, you hear?” Josh defends you.

“Jesus Christ, Jake. Listen, I don’t want to know what the fuck is going on with you and whoever, I’m not asking any questions,” Danny says as the bartender hands him their beers. He leans in closer, whispering between you and Josh. “But I haven’t used a fucking condom in almost a year. You had me digging in my reserve stash… it’s all I had, ok? Sorry if an XL wasn’t the size you needed…” Danny backs away, laughing with his tongue out.

“OH fuck you!” you howl back. “It was a piece of shit, just do yourself a favor and get the good kind, ok?” you whip your head back around as Danny rejoins the others.

“Anyway…” you say as you finish off your soda water. “It was a night I want to forget, honestly. But I’m gonna redeem myself. I have to. I can’t leave it like that…”

“Maybe you should turn your phone off the next time you get an opportunity, just in case…” Josh suggests, and you nod in return.

Just then you see a pair of arms wrapping around Josh’s neck, and you turn to see Ty and Y/N walking up behind you.

“Hey, guys!” Josh says. “Please join us…” he pulls out the seat next to him for Ty and stands to give Y/N his own seat, before she puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Thanks, Josh, but Paul, Wes and Corri are coming down, too. Dean’s coming, I’m gonna sit with them for a little while. Thank you for walking me down, Ty,” she flashes the three of you a warm smile, and you want to speak to her, but it's almost as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. She looks absolutely stunning, a little fixed up, but not too much. You can tell she looks as tired as you all do from the show, but you’d hardly know it. She has on a tight low-cut t-shirt dress with an oversized denim jacket over top, her hair a mess after being up all day. Her makeup had been re-done, and you’d be lying if you said the way her legs looked in that dress didn’t have you imagining things that were still a blurry memory from last night.

“I’ll be back later…” she says, making eye contact with you. Again, you’re at a loss for words, so you give her a sweet nod.

“I really like her,” Ty speaks up, filling the silence that has fallen over the three of you as soon as she’s gone. “You should dump Isla and go out with her, Jake.” The straw you had been chewing falls from your mouth and straight onto the floor.

“What? What did you say?” you ask him.

He shrugs one shoulder as he takes the seat next to Josh. “She’s cute. No bullshit, smart, and can obviously handle all the shit you guys have been throwing at her since she got here…”

You look to Josh, who seems just as surprised as you are.

“I dunno. I mean I like Isla, don’t get me wrong, but. There’s just something off about her, and I don’t know what it is,” he continues, and you feel Josh’s widening eyes find you, telling you he has no idea where this is coming from, either. Ty reaches his hand across Josh to sit on top of yours. He looks you directly in the eye before speaking again, “Jake, I have an excellent read on people. And I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?” he asks.

You slowly shake your head back and forth.

“That’s right. No. And I’m here to tell you, that girl likes you. A lot. She didn’t even have to say anything to me, and I can tell. She froze up when I mentioned your name earlier. And from all the time you spent on our couch the past couple of months, I know there’s something going on. Just know I’m here to talk about it if you feel like my partner here isn’t hearing you out, okay?”

You swallow hard as you take in Ty's words. He’s right, he's always been an excellent confidant for you, even letting you come to him a couple of times in the past for advice on different subjects. You love Ty just like you love your twin, and you never once have doubted his judge of character.

Josh nods slowly, agreeing with every harsh word Ty has just delivered to you. Ty pats your hand as he releases it.

“Take my advice, Jacob. I know Isla isn’t making you happy, and that girl…she just left your talkative ass completely unable to speak.” He smiles hard, turning his attention to the bartender, ordering a round of shots for everyone. You finally have a free second with Josh again.

“Guy knows what he’s talking about…” Josh suggests. “Maybe you should listen to him.”

You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket.

Y/N

11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?

You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message.

You

11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…

You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.

“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand.

You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention.

“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus.

“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle.

“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty.

You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”

The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.

“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”

Fucking hell Isla.

You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone.

“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”

You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.

“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands.

Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused.

“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”

You send him yet another completely bewildered look.

“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”

For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you.

You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends.

“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering.

“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly.

A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”

There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.

“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer.

She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”

You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court.

“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator.

Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla.

You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room.

You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.

You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you.

You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room.

Holy shit, she came.

You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since.

—

HER POV

The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him.

You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside.

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”

You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge.

“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?

“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on.

“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool.

You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows.

He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV.

You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap.

“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all.

“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back.

“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”

You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”

“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”

You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking.

“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another.

“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…”

Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire.

Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.

A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”

You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move.

You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second.

“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting.

Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way.

The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to.

So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap.

Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it.

You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth.

You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind.

“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.

“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.

You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”

Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…

He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.

Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch.

“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown.

But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it.

You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.

“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones.

You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you.

You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is.

Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head.

“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top.

“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now.

You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best.

“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him.

Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching.

His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit.

Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face.

Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?

“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it.

Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure.

You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated.

You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face.

Oh, there we go…

Should you do it? Should you go all in?

You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders.

He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again.

“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down.

“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again.

Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth.

When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again.

You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.”

You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again.

Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands.

“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you.

You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night.

He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you.

“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt.

“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back.

“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in.

The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out.

“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace.

He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side.

“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him.

He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push.

He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks.

“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all.

His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow.

He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…

Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time.

The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire.

He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds.

You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene.

He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own.

Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close.

“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit.

With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath.

“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together.

“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come.

He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”

“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson.

You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…

You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down.

“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard.

“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”

You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”

He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”

“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him.

His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator.

He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours.

“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle.

“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort.

He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words.

“Okay, okay,” you agree.

After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks.

You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”

You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”

Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you.

You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”

JAKE POV

Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.

Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to.

“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach.

“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV.

Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord.

“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”

Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?

“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason.

She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands.

“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes.

You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours.

She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.

You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind.

You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight.

—

You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you.

You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.

You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her.

However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly.

Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N.

Goddamnit Daniel.

Isla

1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?

Isla

1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!

Isla

1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?

Isla

1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there

Isla

1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?

Isla

1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you…

Isla

1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️

Isla

1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow

Mother fucker. Motherfucker.

You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand.

You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak.

You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.

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