#i've had this in my drafts for two weeks i swear

[mangosaurus]

if chaos theory is just camp cretaceous shippuden does that mean we'll get to see benrius like this

#i've had this in my drafts for *checks date* two and a half weeks now #i swear it's a joke (but is it really) #also im pretty sure this cap is from the OG series but i was always a fake naruto fan anyway. dino show anime yaoi NOW #mango roars

[elliesflower]

victory lap [ellie williams]

pairing; f!reader x ellie

cw; rich!ellie, plus-sized female!reader, degradation (kinda), mean!ellie, vouyerism, semi-public masturbation(kinda?), ellie and reader are both perverted ngl

an; syd's comeback??? and it's smut?????? i've had this in my drafts since like may and finally got around to editing it so here you go. and i swear i'm working on chapter 8. and also please don't ask why i didn't pick a sexier sport. like basketball or something. i don't know either. ok bye.

for my sweet babies @coeurify @bambiesfics @addisonnie @seattlesellie

It was yet another blazing hot day at the country club, the sun’s sweltering rays kissing the backs of your legs as you bent down to retrieve a fallen golf ball from the bright green turf, careful not to bend straight over so that your panties would be on full display for anyone who dared to walk behind you. You readjusted the visor on your head upon standing, before you wiped a speck of excess dirt off the white plastic with a perfectly manicured finger before passing it off to Tommy Miller. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, making sure to grab an unnecessary amount of your hand in his own as he took the ball. He winked at you before readjusting his own visor, and setting up the ball on the tee. After the first time you caddied for Tommy, he started requesting you by name. Of course, you knew it probably had a little something to do with the way you caught him staring at your full breasts that sat perfectly in your pink racerback, neckline so low everyone could watch the way small beads of sweat would dribble down your skin and disappear between your chest. 

The truth is, you didn’t mind that Tommy was a little flirty with you, or even handsy sometimes, for that matter—for two reasons. The main one being, Tommy had money. Like, different car for each day of the week money. And his brother, Joel, somehow had even more, you’d reckoned from the times you’ve gotten to chat with him. They were always talking about what new business venture they’d invested in this week, or what extravagant trips they were taking next week. To the average person, it might sound snobby and pretentious—because well, it was—but around the club, it was normal. But you didn’t mind, because the more money your club members made, the more money they could put in your pocket. And you had bills to pay. 

The second reason being, of course, you knew it wouldn’t get them anywhere. Not when you weren’t really into Tommy’s…type, if you will. 

“Of course, Tommy,” you smiled warmly at him, before stepping back to stand in the shade of the golf cart as you watched him line up his shot. Just as he was all set up, swinging his arms behind him to take the shot, his phone began ringing loudly from his back pocket.  

“Goddamn, piece ‘uh shit!” He exclaimed as the ringer clearly messed up his concentration. You had to hide your smile as he shot you an apologetic look before tucking the club under his arm and pulling out his phone to answer. The club was a little high and tight, with people talking like they’d just stepped off the set of an eighties classic film, but Tommy was a little…different. Coming from Texas, the money he’s made never quite washed away his potty mouth, nor his laid-back attitude.

“What is it Joel? Oh, you’re here?” Tommy glanced at you before dropping his gaze to the ground, rolling the golf ball around with his foot mindlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. No, I’ll have her come pick you two up. Yep. Alright, see ya in a bit.” 

You straightened up against the cart as he approached you, ready to do whatever it was he’d ask. 

“Joel’s here?” You asked, sliding into the cart preemptively. 

“Yeah, that sonuva bitch decided to stop by after all. Him and Ellie are waitin’ at the clubhouse, would you mind swingin’ to pick them up?” 

“Ellie?” You cocked your head slightly, but slid through to the driver’s seat nonetheless. 

“Ah, forgot you haven’t met ‘er yet,” Tommy said, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down to where your thick thighs spilled out onto the seat, your panties just barely covered by the white pleated golf skirt that rode up when you sat. You immediately averted your gaze, turning the key to the cart and feeling it rumble to life. “Ellie’s Joel’s daughter. I think she’s about your age…she’s great n’ all, honors student in college, yadda yadda…y’all might actually hit it off.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said playfully. If only he knew what he was actually implying to your sapphic brain. He just smirked at you, tapping the hood of the cart twice before walking back to the tee. “See ya in a bit,” he called over his shoulder as you drove away. You weren’t too far from the clubhouse, as Tommy had barely gotten started on his round, so it was a quick little drive over. The warm breeze tickled the baby hairs peeking from beneath your visor, and helped to cool the bare skin of your arms. 

Joel was waiting for you in the cart-turnaround at the back of the clubhouse when you arrived, and gave you a little wave as you turned around the corner. You waved back, putting on your best smile and doe eyes as you pulled up in front of him standing alone with two golf club bags at his sides. He smiled politely when you came to a stop, jumping out quickly to retrieve his bags when he started trying to put them on the cart himself. 

“Joel, you know you don’t have to worry about all that. Not when I’m around, at least.” You smirked at him as you picked up the two bags of heavy clubs with ease, loading them onto the back of the cart.

“C’mon now, I can’t even attempt to be a gentleman?” He joked, tipping his visor at you playfully. You giggled, exaggeratedly. 

“Oh, but of course, Mr. Miller. My apologies.” You pretended to curtsey for him, just barely lifting the hem of your short skirt as to not completely expose yourself—but surely you didn’t miss the completely conspicuous way his eyes traveled down the expanse of your curves, from the way your breasts practically spilled from your tank top, to the small patch of exposed skin at your midriff, all the way down to the way your white skirt flowed as you crossed your legs. I mean, who wouldn’t look, honestly? He huffed out a laugh and you took that as your cue to slide back into the driver’s seat, and Joel leaned a strong arm against the roof of the cart. 

“Tommy mentioned your daughter? Is she—” 

“Ready, Dad?” You could only assume Ellie, his daughter, suddenly appeared behind Joel, effectively shutting you up and quite literally taking your breath away. You at least had the decency to choke quietly, using Joel’s surprise as an excuse to turn your head away, bringing your fist to your mouth for a moment as you cleared your throat and tried to regain your composure. You felt the cart dip to your right, so you turned back, expecting to see Joel sliding in next to you—but no, it just had to be his daughter. His beautiful, angelically-built daughter with a perfect smile and perfect jade eyes and somehow even more perfect hands, which she was using to grip the stability bar at the front of the cart as she slid in next to you. 

You felt stunned, could do nothing but pathetically stare at her with your mouth slightly agape as you heard Joel’s phone ringing distantly, somewhere in the back of your mind, even though you knew he was sat right behind you. A half smile made the corner of Ellie’s lip twitch ever so slightly, but she looked away quickly, leaving you practically lusting at the sight of her side profile. 

“You gonna take us to Tommy? Or just sit there and stare like you ain’t got nothin’ in your brain?” Her voice was like pure sex; rich and modulated, no real Southern accent like her father, but his vernacular had definitely rubbed off. It was really hard to not show that her words were heading straight to your lower half, your thighs pressing together just inconspicuously enough that you’d probably be able to play it off if she really noticed. You had to at least look embarrassed, averting your gaze so that you could turn the small engine over. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Tommy speaks very highly of you.” You chose to ignore her little comment, focusing instead on trying to treat Ellie just like every member you’d had the pleasure of serving. 

And oh boy, would it be a pleasure to serve Ellie. 

“M’sure he does,” Ellie all but laughed, leaning back so that her legs spread apart across the seat, her left knee getting dangerously close to your legs. You swallowed thickly, trying to watch the movement of her tattooed arm from your peripheral as she slung it over the back of the seat. You could tell it was a natural response, that she probably man-spreaded like this everywhere—but some sick and perverted part of your mind wanted to believe that she was doing it for you, that she wanted you to see her act so…

“Eyes on the fucking road, sweetheart,” she said, and it was quiet. But the weight of it made you nearly squeak—how long had you been looking over at her?—narrowly avoiding a decently-sized rock that would have gotten easily stuck in the small tires of the golf cart. “This your first day on the job or somethin’?” 

And Ellie was so fucking casual with it. Like she hadn’t even meant to degrade you. You stammered a bit, and you swear you could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. Tommy appeared suddenly as you reached the small summit of the course hill, and all you could do was huff quietly as you approached, again choosing to ignore the way she taunted you like it was second nature. Luckily, she either didn’t hear or chose to ignore you, but she didn’t say another word as you pulled up near Tommy, just as he was taking a long swing with his driver.

“You see that shit, Joel?” He asked as he squinted out at the ball flying through the air with impressive speed. “Might actually beat ya this time, whatcha think?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you just got a head start, that’s all.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice as you quickly jumped out of the cart and ran to grab his clubs for him, and Ellie’s, too. He was finishing up his phone call as he took the bag from you, giving you a small nod before you turned to face Ellie. Now that you were standing practically face to face, you had to stop yourself from looking her up and down. Or you at least had to find a way to be discreet about it…and that was one thing you were, was quick on your feet. 

“These are some nice clubs,” you praised, using it as an excuse to look down at her, playing it off like you were examining them. Her feet were clad in an expensive pair of golfing shoes, her toned calves running into thighs covered in a simple, black, five inch inseam short. You gulped inconspicuously, as your eyes quickly moved past her crotch. Surely, you were hallucinating that…bulge. 

“Aw, so you can be helpful when you wanna be,” Ellie snickered, taking the bag away from you with such quickness that your arm was left hovering in the air. You shook your head slightly as if to shake the thoughts away, and dared to look her in the eyes once more. 

“I sure do try my best,” you said, and it wasn’t meant to be bratty, it really wasn’t—but Ellie’s smirk quickly soured, and she huffed and slung the bag over her shoulder. 

“Get me some water, will you?” She jutted her chin toward the cooler attached to the back of the cart, and you could only nod, instantly following her blunt command like you were a puppet on her string. What was she doing to you?

Ellie wasn’t always an asshole, you see. No, no, society made her this way. Have you ever noticed how rich kids aren’t friends with the poor ones, or vice versa? It’s because they can never find any middle ground, no similarities, no common interests. The kids going to public school were happy with a day trip to the city as a vacation; meanwhile, Ellie was missing weeks of her prissy private school education to fly halfway around the world on a business trip with her dad. 

And now, she was a rich girl going to a pretentious university. But she didn’t like the fact that people saw her this way: an asshole with her nose always pointing up; getting clocked as a rich girl as soon as anyone with eyes looked at the way she was dressed; never knowing if someone liked her for her, instead of just for her money. People were going to look at her and see ‘rich, pretentious asshole’ painted on her forehead no matter what—so why not embrace it? Why not put on this stupid little act that everyone else in her social class seemed to? 

And that’s where the soul-sucking began, Ellie realized. That’s how the bratty, entitled kids from her high school ended up just like their evil, entitled parents. She didn’t want to be this way. It just…happened. 

Nevertheless, Ellie pulled the Nike-swooshed visor off of her head for a moment to run her fingers through her reddish-brown tresses, trying to shake away the heat of the sun. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes linger on the way her tattooed arm flexed as she did so, nearly tripping over your own feet as you brought her a completely unnecessary plastic bottle full of water. 

“You know, they make reusable water bottles, nowadays,” you blurted out, your sarcasm taking over momentarily, the heat nearly making you forget where you were. You were at work. Of course rich people don’t care about using plastic water bottles. Ellie raised a curious brow, perfectly groomed with a small scar parting the arch. She didn’t even have to say anything—she just stood there, giving you that…look, and your eyes widened in surprise. She snatched the water bottle from your hand with such force that you flinched, the plastic crinkling almost louder than the sound of Tommy and Joel’s banter.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” you found yourself saying, eyes immediately falling to the ground. As she took a swig of water, Ellie couldn’t help but to notice this, and file it away in her brain for another time—the way she didn’t even have to say anything to you, and you were already so…

submissive. 

“Don’t call me Miss,” she said simply as she screwed the cap back on. You nodded, folding your hands together in front of you before looking back up to catch her gaze. 

“Yes, Ellie,” and her name came out like a drawl naturally…swear. The syllables rolled off your tongue and straight to your lower half, took you to a place so heavenly—your panties were growing wetter by the second, the press of your plush thighs getting tighter as you watched her expression. Her eyes darkened momentarily (or did she just squint at the sun?), and her posture shifted (maybe she got a cramp?). It was like she was trying to read your mind, and you were pretty sure she practically could as you watched her pretty pink tongue dart out to catch the wetness that remained on her lips—you found yourself salivating at the sight, having to quite literally force your jaw to stay closed. 

She was an asshole, sure—but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want to fuck her. 

“My clubs?” Ellie broke you out of your little fantasy by invading your presence, so close you were suddenly overwhelmed. She had set her clubs down in front of her when she took a drink of water, and it was now suddenly your job to hand them to her. “Do we need to clean out your ears or somethin’? Jesus.” She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, and you stammered. No, no, you’ve never had an unsatisfied member and you weren’t going to start now. Especially not with Ellie. You felt the urge to please her, go above and beyond and make sure she never had to lift a finger—but she was scoffing and reaching to grab her clubs before you could get out another word. 

“No, no, no Mi-” You caught yourself before you made yet another embarrassing mistake. For the second time. “Ellie. My apologies, I’ll follow you.” It was a bit proper, maybe a bit much…but you had to make it up to her, you had to. Whatever it takes. 

“I want my driver first. You do know which one that is, right?” And she was nasty, voice laced with venom as she called over her shoulder. When did she start walking away? And should your pussy be throbbing over that? You didn’t even respond as you lugged her bag over your shoulder, trailing behind her to catch up to Tommy and Joel. They were still bantering away when you approached, cursing and laughing and hitting each other, like brothers do. 

“Look who finally made it,” Ellie’s eyes rolled when you caught up, so quickly you almost missed it. You were like, fifteen steps behind her, there’s no way that was called for. You stayed silent as you unloaded the clubs off your shoulder, doing your best not to show any hint of negative emotion on your face, propping the bag up before pulling Ellie’s driver out. It was long, and heavy, like all the other expensive ones you’ve seen. All of her clubs looked shiny, you noted, like she had either never used them, or just got them polished. Either of which could be possible, as you’d yet to see her play. She grabbed it from you hastily, and you felt that familiar throb beneath your skirt. Get a fucking grip.

“Gotcha’ all set up here, kiddo,” Joel said enthusiastically, and Ellie didn’t even fake a smile. So, you just watched her take the shot. Boy, did you watch her take the shot. 

Watched the way she got so serious—okay, somehow more serious than before—the way she shuffled her feet behind the tee as she lined up her shot, the way her arms flexed and veins popped as she straightened out her arms, prepping to take the swing. The way she took a split second to glance back while she rotated her body to shoot you the most sickeningly devious wink before sending the ball flying across the course.

Tommy whistled and Joel offered a few strong claps. 

You couldn’t be quite sure that you wouldn’t melt into a puddle right here in the middle of the course. What is it about Ellie, your favorite member’s niece, that was getting you so worked up? For fucks sake, golf isn’t even a sexy sport! It couldn’t have at least been basketball, or something a bit more…normal that did it for you?

Instead, you got Ellie, in all her glory. Strong calves turned away from you as she watched her ball cut through the air, higher and faster and better than you’d ever seen Tommy or Joel hit. Not that they’d ever admit that. 

Your thoughts were getting dirtier by the minute as you watched Ellie play. You felt like a baby deer following her around the course, knees wobbling every time she barked another command at you. 

“Um, my water, please?”

“I said five iron, not six.”

“My ball is dirty. What ‘er you even good for?

You were slipping by the minute, letting your eyes linger over her frame a little longer each time you glanced her way. No way she wasn’t catching on. 

“Take a fucking picture, Princess, it’ll last longer.”

Oops.

And when you pulled back up to the clubhouse, it took everything in you to not just run off. Your heart was beating out of your chest, panties completely ruined with your slick, oh my god you were fucking perverted. You carefully helped Tommy, Joel, and Ellie load up their gear into their respective cars, keeping your mouth shut so as to not squeak out an embarrassing sound. In fact, you couldn’t be quite sure you wouldn’t just moan out loud if Ellie so much as even glanced in your direction unprompted. 

“Great game today, guys.” You smiled sweetly at Joel and Tommy who were now both leaned up against the side of the building, taking refuge from the sun. 

“Well thank ya, sweetheart! Glad you got a chance to meet Ellie today, too,” Joel smiled at you, reaching out to squeeze at your shoulder. “Ellie, why don’t you say thank you to our lovely caddy girl today?” He didn’t use your name, because why would he? You were a convenience to them. Now that you thought about it, Ellie probably didn’t even know your name. Let alone care. 

Her green eyes bore into you for a moment before she grunted out something that sounded suspiciously like a thank you, before tipping her head back to swallow the last of her water. The sight of her throat contracting had you practically running away to do something so devious, you might have to get down on your knees and pray before you went to sleep. 

And Ellie was only human, after all. She was curious, about a lot of things. But more specifically? At this moment? She was wondering where you were scurrying off to. Of course, you weren’t as good about hiding what physical reactions you’d been having to her for the past hour as you thought—the way you’d squirm whenever she caught you staring at her, or how your mouth opened ever so slightly, ever so submissively when she berated you. 

So wherever you were going must be good. 

And oh, was it good. 

Ellie couldn’t believe her eyes, as she trailed behind you. Each time you’d look back, she’d be sure to hide just perfectly out of your view around corners, behind tables….she couldn’t let you know how curious she was, no. Because you see, she was actually good about hiding these sorts of things. She was an asshole, but it wasn’t for no reason. She just couldn’t let you know how the sight of you practically drove her insane—the soft curve of your hips beneath that skirt, the rolls on your belly that led to the plush skin of your breasts that bounced so perfectly with every step you took. That would just ruin the fun of it. My god, were you a sight for Ellie’s sore eyes. 

So now, Ellie watched as you were slipping into a supply closet. Okay…? Perhaps, you had just forgotten something, then. Needed to grab something for another member, or left your bag in there before you started your shift. Nothing interesting. 

But no, Ellie was close enough now that you were safely behind the door, that she could hear the lock ‘click’ softly from inside the supply closet. 

Oh. Oh— she thought. 

And she couldn’t believe her ears, when she heard the faintest sigh. One that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than relief. 

And yeah, you were relieved. 

You couldn’t take it anymore—the last hour you spent with Ellie was absolute torture. Letting her talk down on you, and treat you like you were nothing to her…it shouldn’t have turned you on. You should be upset, embarrassed, angry, furious even. But you were wet. 

Holy fucking shit, you were wet. Your fingers trailed down your tummy as you leaned against the wall in the dark closet, barely illuminated by a tiny window at the top of one wall. Your breath was shaky, eyes closed as you lifted your short skirt, shoving your panties to the side before you felt the top of your fingers graze past your clit, sliding further and further in between your slick folds, so easily, so so easily. 

“Oh!” you caught yourself gasping as you played with yourself, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as a sickly, obscene wet sound began to fill the space of the small closet. This was so wrong…touching yourself at work, thinking about Ellie, so fucking desperate that you had to run away and relieve even just an ounce of the tension you felt inside. 

It only got worse when all you could think about was Ellie’s long fingers, the way they gripped the golf clubs so tenderly, and how you wished so badly that you could replace yours with hers as they slipped inside of you. Your head fell back against the metal rack behind you, and you had no right mind to react to what should have been pain. Instead, you pictured Ellie standing in front of you, and how her eyes would darken with lust as she pressed her body against yours, her hot breath fanning across your face as she fucked her fingers up into you…

And Ellie was going crazy, couldn’t help herself from getting closer and closer to that supply closet door. There was no one in this wing of the club, surely no one would walk by and see her with her ear pressed against a supply closet door…right? It mostly didn’t matter, as something deranged and perverted was consuming her brain. She found herself quite literally pressed against the door, she couldn’t help herself, she had to hear the way you moaned softly and gasped while you worked yourself closer and closer to your release. 

“Oh…oh Ellie!” You breathed wantonly, and Ellie could have cum on the spot. The wet sounds of your ministrations were getting faster and louder as your fingers pressed in and out of you with such force the rack behind you was beginning to rattle. Had you been in your right mind, you should have been mortified. You should have stopped right then and there, pulled yourself together and went home to the privacy of your own home and taken a long, cold shower. But all you could see was that stupid fucking smirk on Ellie’s face as she’d whisper: 

Just fucking cum for me, baby. 

And so you did, slapping your free hand over your mouth to muffle what surely would have been far too loud of a noise as you reached your peak, your body trembling almost violently as the high washed over you. 

Ellie was positively reeling, her ear still pressed to the door almost comically as she listened to you come undone. If anyone were to walk by at this moment it would look utterly suspicious, her all alone in the long hallway, surely looking suspect in her current position. Not to mention she should probably pull away before you had a chance to swing the door open, as she would have absolutely no excuse as to what she was doing here. 

Instead, Ellie continued to listen to your labored breaths as you came down, her pink lips parted softly as she felt her own wetness growing more and more unbearable beneath her shorts. Hell, had the purple silicone she had strapped to her hips been real, there would be absolutely no hiding what your sounds had done to her. She should move away, racing thoughts of oh my fucking god, and I wonder how easy it would be to make her sound like that again, but also to go back to Dad and go the fuck home, goddammit, this is absolutely sick, even for you and— 

“Ellie?!” 

She nearly fell forward from the weight of her body on the door when it swung inwards to reveal your absolutely mortified face, and even more terrified voice. Her eyes were like saucers, surely mirroring yours as you gaped at her, one hand still on the door to leave the possibility of slamming it right back in her face in humiliation. No, no no no no no way this was happening to you. 

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she staggered backwards in her surprise, leaving you both just staring each other down in what was surely the most awkward encounter either of you had ever had in your entire life. Her eyes quickly shifted downwards and she took another step back. 

“I- I was just- yeah, okay. Bye.” 

And she was gone. 

-- 

pt 2??????

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie tlou pt 2 #the last of us pt 2 #ellie williams smut

[sebscore]

TWITCH WAR

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader (brief cameos of charles and russell george)

warnings: swearing. rumplestiltskin. mention of george being a war criminal. wetting pants.

author’s note: not my best work, but this has been sitting in my drafts for too long. anyway, enjoy 💖

• • • • • • •

''Do I play with Y/N?'' Lando read the question out loud, seeing it in his comment section. ''Well, she always told me she was very good at like any kind of game and that she would kick my ass, but then I played with her and… let's say she's definitely not as good as me.'' The Brit bragged about his own skills, a smirk forming on his face.

He glanced at the incoming replies from the fans, enjoying their reactions. ''She asked to play together a few weeks ago and we did, but ever since then I haven't dared to play with her again,'' he grinned, ''whenever she asks me now, I just go offline.''

''Oh, she's gonna kill me when she sees this.'' He giggled like a schoolgirl.

She did in fact kill him when the clip of him talking shit was sent to her by fans and even other drivers. Not literally, that wouldn't be a good career move, but she took to Twitter to indirectly respond to Lando's ''claims''.

YourUsername: people, don't take the words of twinks seriously 😫

Y/N's clapbacks didn't stop there as she went live on Instagram not too long after Lando's Twitch stream. Fans obviously couldn't help but ask about the British driver.

''Do I still want to play with Lando? Nooo~ I don't want to stream with him anymore, I really don't.'' The grin on her face was a dead giveaway she was only teasing him. ''He's super bad, that Rumplestiltskin.''

''She called me Rumplestiltskin?'' Lando read the comment out loud, his eyebrows furrowed. ''What does that even mean?'' He couldn't really remember where the name came from, so he decided to look it up and was met with the character from Shrek.

He gave the camera an unimpressed look before moving on. ''You guys want to know a fun story about Y/N from our karting days?'' A smirk already appeared on his face.

''She was pushed off track by someone and she pissed her pants because of it.''

''It was water! I didn't wet my pants, oh my god!'' The driver exclaimed on stream, not believing that Lando actually told that story. ''We were like 9 years-old.''

''You know, Y/N, I think I also remember that.'' George chimed in, he had been amused by their little Twitch war ever since they started it.

She rolled her eyes upon George's words. ''Hey! It was probably you who pushed me off the track in the first place, you war criminal!'' Y/N clapped back at him.

''Anyway, Lando shouldn't be speaking at all when he still looks and talks like a 9 year-old.''

''Lando, should we invite Y/N to play with us?'' Charles asked the McLaren driver after seeing countless comments in his chat asking about the female driver.

The Brit loudly sighed, causing the Monégasque to burst out laughing. ''What's wrong, Lando?''

''Because of her, people keep asking me if I've hit puberty yet.'' He said, frustration audible in his voice, much to the entertainment of Charles and everyone else watching him.

Their ''beef'' came to an end when the media had started to pick up on their back-and-forths and tried to make it seem like the two close friends hated each other and that they would become a danger to each other on track.

''Are you worried that the words you and Y/N have exchanged over social media will have an effect on how the two of you perform on track?'' One reporter asked Lando in a press conference.

He shook his head. ''We're just joking around, honestly. We've been friends for a long time and we've always joked around with each other like this, so, no, it won't have an effect on track.'' He politely answered, slightly ticked off by the seriousness of it all.

Y/N had been placed into a different group for the press conference, where she was asked about their ''war''. ''There have been some harsh word exchanges between yourself and Lando Norris, are you two on good terms or is there some sort of bad blood?''

''Yeah, we hate each other,'' her sarcastic tone sticking out, ''that's why we voluntarily spent all that time together when we're not racing.'' Her answer gathered laughs from her fellow drivers and even some reporters.

''Also, when we're on the topic,'' she stated, ''just because Lando hasn't hit puberty, doesn't mean that I haven't.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 oc #formula one fics

[julianalvarez9]

CHANGE YOUR MIND / MASON MOUNT

SUMMARY: You never really liked Mason Mount, even before he came to your club. Turns out, he's a very persuasive man, who will do everything he can to change your mind.

PAIRING: mason mount x ten hag!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mason is a lovesick fool, use of ten hag as a plot device i'm so sorry

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's been agesssss since i've posted something, so here's this! (something's that's been sitting in my drafts and i didn't dare finish for almost a month!). would reallyyyy love some feedback!

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, resting calmly over the cap of his car, hands hiding inside his pockets. Mason looks straight out of a movie; one where the protagonist is waiting for his lover outside of their home. You try to not think about that, or about the warm feeling in your chest, as you angrily make your way towards him.

Once you reach him, you're ready to voice your concerns about his presence in your parents' home. "What are you doing here?".

The urgency in your voice only made the Englishman grin harder, if that was even possible.

He shrugs, clearly not preoccupied about the matter. "Came to see a friend, offer her a ride to work". You roll your eyes, annoyed, because obviously, this is Mason. This is the same insufferable guy you've got to know for months now, ever since he signed for Manchester United.

By looking at the watch on your wrist, and knowing your dad's entire routine, you know you two are running out of time.  "C'mon, Mount, you need to leave!", you urge, and he tilts his head in confusion. "What? Why?," as if his entire life, at least, sport related, wasn't threatened by the man about to walk out the door.

"Did you hit yourself on the way here? Did you happen to forget who I live with?".

He shrugs, again, claiming "I don't mind". A second after, "he actually likes me. More than you do, at least". It's not the first snarky remark he throws your way, but it's still too early for you to pretend he hasn't got a special capacity for getting under your skin.

"I'd like to see if he continues to like you when he sees you talking to his daughter in his front yard".

You're right about that.

Yeah, Mason is your dad's new shiny toy, awarding him with being a constant feature in the starting eleven in every United game, but you doubt he'd be alright with whatever he's trying to do. After all, he never liked any of your past boyfriends, or friends who he -somehow- recognized as undeserving of his little girl, his only daughter. "I think he will," Mason says confidently, "I'm actually a great son-in-law, you know?".

You swear it is too early in the morning to have rolled your eyes the number of times you have in his presence, during the past three minutes. You ask, hopeful that the sly remark works to get him off your back. "Has being this cocky actually helped you, in some way?".

When his smile falters, you grin. It's probably the first time he doesn't have something, anything, to hit back, and you consider it a win for your side. "It did," he answers truthfully a beat after, and now his smile is bigger than ever. "Look, you're smiling at me".

You try, hard, to stop your cheeks from going red, but the way you can't really hold his stare any longer is a win for him. He basks in this feeling, knowing himself to be able to make you nervous must be a good sign, right?

At least, he hopes so.

"Okay, stop fucking around or you'll be late," you warn, coming close enough to him to push him off the hood of his car, and towards the driver's door. You try to ignore the way your fingers burn after touching him, deciding not to acknowledge the warning signs that something had changed in the past few weeks. You don’t despise him nearly as much, but you’re not keen on the idea of him knowing about it. Yet.

Mason opens the door of his car, and gets in. You nervously watch back, to the entrance door, after seeing what time it is. 9:13 AM. Your father will be out the door, any second now.

You hope that, the next time you look to the street, the car will be gone, and any trace of the Englishman vanished, like a dream. But instead, when you turn again, the tinted window of his car is down, and he's looking mischievously at you. "Already caring for me? that's new, Ten Hag".

"Go away, Mount".

Hearing the door open, just a few seconds after seeing Mason's car disappear from your street, makes your blood turn cold. The piercing question from your father doesn't make things better. "What are you doing over there?". There’s nothing you could possibly say that will convince your father, and saying the truth isn’t a possibility right now; so, instead, you defuse the question. "Nothing, nothing. Are you ready to leave now?".

The way to Trafford Training Centre is quiet. Your father isn't one to talk much normally, but the silence squishes you until you feel like you're holding your breath. He knows, you're sure, and you’re gonna make Mason pay for it. 

That’s it, if you reach the training ground alive.

"You know, I think Mason is a good kid".

The affirmation is nowhere what you had expected your father to say, so you can’t hide the furrowed brows and defensive tone that comes along with it. "We're in first name base already? Wow, that's new".

The car stops in the red light, and your dad takes the time to turn his head in your direction. He sees your fixed gaze ahead, brows still furrowed, and his head tilts in confusion. "And he's trying really hard to get in your good graces".

"That's not true".

A beat.

"I saw him this morning".

After that, you're left waiting; either, for the disapproving voice in his tone, the yelling, or the pointing out reasons why you shouldn’t be this close to a player, much less someone like him. But instead, he’s silent. And somehow, the silence is scarier.

The air feels thick, and it’s scarily similar to how it feels when a storm is brewing. Hot, too heavy, and like the entire sky is about to fall apart. And a few minutes after, with the car finally parked, and the training center standing tall just a few meters ahead, Erik begins to talk.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Whatever it is”. In other circumstances, you’d laugh at the way he signaled with his hand when saying it, almost like dismissing the entire ordeal, as if he still, so many years after introducing other boyfriends in the past few years -not one that’s worth mentioning, though-, refused to acknowledge that his little girl is not so little anymore.

“I know I always said it’s not a good idea. And I still don’t think it is,” he remarks, but holds a finger up before you can’t argue against what he’s saying, “but, as I said, he’s a good kid. And, most importantly, he’s aware that if he breaks your heart, he won’t play anymore, so-”.

The horror in your eyes must be evident, because he starts laughing before you can tell him off because of his antics. “Dad!”.

“So, you can go out with him. Just don't break his heart, yeah?” You can’t even respond because he gets off the car then, taking his things with him before closing the car door. Yes, you come in together, but since you insist on keeping family business out of the club, Erik begins making his way in alone.  “Could really use my star player having a great season".

In the distance, you can see Mason; he’s smiling widely, with a coffee cup in his hand, and standing just by the door. He opens it, to let your dad in, and you shake your head in feign disapproval.  “Right, Mount?,” Erik calls, alluding to his previous statement; the one he can’t possibly have heard, given how far he was when he said the words. Between the three of you, you’re not the only one that knows that it’s a test, so Mason answers accordingly.

“Yes, sir, of course”.

#football imagine #football imagines #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football fanfic #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

[curseofhecate]

My heart wont start anymore, for you

Sirius Black x fem!reader

She was in love with him. He never felt the same

1.7k

tw: mention of Y/n, slight swearing

This has been in my drafts since August. The ending is sloppy.

It had been going on for years now. Ever since she'd first saw him, that September 1st on platform 9¾, she'd only ever had eyes for him.

Stolen glances, innocent brushes of her hand against his, so many signs and yet he never picked up any of them.

Sirius Black was too focused on other girls to notice his best friend pinning after him, even now, after all these years. And yet her feelings never changed.

"So, who's that?" James teasingly asked the black haired boy, glancing towards a ravenclaw girl in their year, who was practically eyefucking Sirius from across the room.

"Jessica Monroe" Sirius smirked, then continued eating his breakfast. "Dude, that's like, the 3rd one this month" Remus pointed out.

"It's not my fault the ladies can't resist me"

"And as it seems, neither can you" Peter chimed in. "At least n/n here hasn't fallen for your charms yet" James joked, eyes set on the only girl in their friend group.

"As if!" She laughed, trying to cover up the rosy color of her cheeks.

Little did James know how wrong he had been.

It wasn’t until two weeks later when things really started going downhill. She had just returned from her perfect's duties when she found Sirius waiting for her in the common room. It was well past midnight and everyone had retired to their dorms long ago.

"Finally, I've been waiting for you for hours" the boy jumped up from his spot on the couch once he saw her. She stared at him confused. He gently grabbed her wrist and dragged her to sit beside him as he plopped himself on the couch.

"What are you even doing down here at this time?"

Sirius ignored her question. "I need to talk to you."

"Well, couldn't it wait until the morning? I'm exhausted" She groaned, leaning her head back on the couch.

He ignored her again. 

"I realized something."

His words had her sitting straighter in mere seconds.

Had he finally figured out her feelings for him?

She wasn’t exactly subtle about them either.

He must know.

Sirius looked at her. Whatever it was she was suspecting at that moment could have never even come close to what was yet to come.

"I've been sleeping with Thalia" he breathed out.

It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to sleep with different girls then dump them within the course of the next week. Most of the time he didn’t even mention who it was he was having sex with, so why would bringing her up now?

"Okay?"

She finally said not knowing how else to respond.

"The thing is, I want us to be more. As in, I actually have feelings for her. She makes me the happiest just by smiling at me. So much that makes me want to stay by her side until the end of my days."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with her. Hopelessly and utterly in love."

And it was in that moment when the little candle of hope she had burned out. 

The thing was, that even if Sirius was with other girls, it never lasted long simply because he had never loved any of them. The flame was just weaker, flickering.

And now there he was, talking about how he couldn't imagine a world without the blonde Gryffindor, going as far as to admit being in love with her. There was no candle anymore, only a paddle of melted wax where it once had been.

The girl in front of him, blinked back tears as she shook her head. "I want her to ask her on a date '' Sirius continued.

"But when I do, I want it to be perfect. This is where I need your help. You know her better than me, you can tell me what she likes, for example which kind of flowers does she like the most? And what’s her favorite color? Does she prefer a picnic by the black lake or stargazing at the astronomy tower?" the boy continued rambling until the Y/n stopped him.

And as much as it hurt her to do so, she did value his happiness more than hers. In the end she agreed to help him.

It had been three weeks since Sirius and Thalia started dating. And it was safe to say they were stuck to the honeymoon phase.

The two couldn't keep their hands off of each other. They were always touching somehow and every chance they got to kiss, they did. They'd go on dates every other day and more often than not they slept in each other's bed, at the point where Remus had started complaining that she was practically living in their dorm.

Not to mention that they were always together. And when they weren't, which was a rare occurrence, all Sirius could do was talk about her.

She didn’t blame him. Thalia was a girl made out of angel dust, the prettiest and kindest one could ever be. She had to be the sweetest thing to ever walk on this earth.

Yet Y/n couldn’t help but envy her. The blonde was everything she wasn’t.

Once the two reached their one month anniversary it had started to become frustrating. And the closer the couple grew, the further the two friends slipped apart. 

Sirius didn’t know what had happened between them. One second she was there, the other one she was gone, completely out of sight. It seemed to him that earth might as well have swallowed her whole and left no trace behind. 

In the months following Sirius and Thalia getting together, Y/n had avoided him at any and every cost. She still hung out with the rest of the marauders, they were her best friends after all just not when Sirius was around.

Instead she’d now hang out more with Lily, Marlene and Mary, the three growing closer ever since she started sitting with them at dinner. She’d joke about how her and Marlene were practically married at this point and she’d even had made friends with Regulus (or something along those lines) after finding him up at the astronomy tower. 

To say things had changed was an understatement. 

It was a slow progress too. Yet Sirius failed to notice it. Until now.

Him and Thalia had had their first argument the night before. It was unusual for the two to fight at all, much less not be on talking terms. Sirius needed to talk to his best friend but how could he do that when she was nowhere to be found.

It was in the common room, well after dinner when Sirius managed to spot her. She was sitting next to Peter, helping him with his potion’s essay. 

“Hey” he greeted taking a seat opposite her. She muttered a quiet ‘hi’ back but didn’t look up. 

He sat in silence for a little while, waiting for them to finish. When he finally decided he couldn't wait anymore, he cleared his throat. The two looked up at him confused. “Anything you need Sirius?” she asked, rather coldly. 

He wasn’t used to her calling him by his first name. It was either Siri or pads and sometimes ‘my star’ but never just plain Sirius. “Yes, actually. I need to talk to you.”

“Well can’t it wait. I have to help Pete with this and then I promised Lily I would put her hair into French braids” she said, trying to make up a lie to avoid him. She didn’t even know how to do French braids.

“It won’t take long, I promise”

“Fine,” She sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Not here” he said, motioning for her to get up before doing so himself. He guided her upstairs to his and the boy’s dorm room. It had been a while since she’d last been there. And yet nothing had changed.

“What is going on with you?” Sirius asked after shutting the door closed and turning to her.

“What? Nothing. Everything is perfectly normal” the girl shrugged trying to play it off.

“Except it isn’t. You are never around anymore.We never talk anymore, you don’t even sit with us in the dining hall. I haven’t seen you since the last full moon and even then you didn’t talk to me. You were my best friend. Us against the world, remember? What the hell happened to us? What the hell happened to you n/n'' The more he spoke the more his voice rose. 

“No” she shook her head.

“What do you mean no?” He asked, frustrated.

“Sirius, you were the one who started pulling away. After you got with Thalia you were always with her. And when you weren’t it was your main, not to say only, topic of discussion.”

“That’s not true” he argued.

“Yes it is! Tell me Sirius had you even realized I wasn’t around you as much before today?” she defended. 

She was right. He hadn’t.

“And you know what’s worse? I was in love with you. I have been in love with you since the first day on the train.”

She has done it now. 

“Do you even know how fucking hard it is? Listening to someone you love constantly about someone else?”

Silence. She hadn't intended to say this but she couldn't have controlled it. She had finally reached her limit. 

Sirius looked down at the floor. He hadn't expected to hear such words from her yet he felt extremely guilty.

This was it. Her entire world came crumbling down and it was clear that whatever hope she had for salvaging their friendship was now gone. She had ruined it. 

She looked up. Sirius' gaze was still pinned to the floor. It hurt her that he wouldn't even look at her. 

She left the room slamming the door shut behind her. There were too many unanswered questions, more than before. There was confusion and then there were mixed feelings. It seemed that nothing was certain anymore. 

And in that moment her heart stopped. And she knew, her heart wouldn't start anymore, at least not for him.

#the marauders era #sirius black x reader #curseofhecate

[simpsforwomen]

May I request a (Wednesday Addams x fem reader) where reader is from the south and hides her accent, but then one day she gets mad at someone (maybe Tyler or Xavier for hitting on Wednesday), and then let’s loose the thick southern accent and everyone is just like- “who’s this and what happened to reader?!”

Thank you for reading my request and have an amazing day! :]

✧ reply: HELLO ANON! Yes. Just yes. I think this is really funny so I've decided to make it so that both Tyler and Xavier are fighting over Wednesday. I'm not Southern by any means though, so I hope my research helped make this more accurate. I'm sorry this is short. Thank you and enjoy!

❦ 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗲...?

✧ warnings: n/a

✧ pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

✧ summary: (request)

✧ word count: 412

✧ a/n: i realize that this one-shot is pretty ass and that i made you guys wait a long time. i've been very busy lately and i know i always say that but it's true, i swear ;-; i'm currently working on my six other drafts as well so i'm going to try and pump at least one of those out by the end of this week. (it's show week for the production i'm in so it's going to be a challenge but i'm trying my best)

☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎

You had just finished eating when you heard a very familiar argument coming from the two boys sitting across from you and your girlfriend.

"I ain't gonna sit here and watch the two of y'all fight over Wednesday!" You said, loud enough for everyone around you to hear.

It was during lunchtime in Jericho, and to be honest, you didn't care about what others thought anymore. You were so tired of them bickering that you just had to say something about it. Besides, you had given them countless signs as to how a certain brunette was clearly taken but it seems as though your words went in one ear and out the other. Just like how it's always been with them.

The customers all turned and frowned at you. Most of them were people from school who'd also come out to dine. Some with an expression of curiosity and some shocked by your sudden accent outburst.

Tyler on the other hand frowned in confusion. "What just happened to your voice...?"

"And since when did you start caring about our weekly Wednesday talk?" Xavier added.

"Since the both of y'all invited me to hang!" You rolled your eyes. "Besides, Wednesday's very much off limits. She's mine. And for your information, I've had this accent for as long as I can remember."

Xavier gasped dramatically. "Clearly she's more into me. Like, come on."

You hadn't told your friends about the two of you being together yet so they obviously didn't believe you.

Even Wednesday was surprised and you couldn't blame her. You never told anyone about how you hid your accent all this time.

"Y/N, why haven't you told me about this?" The brunette asked you curiously. "Is it because you were insecure?"

"No." You responded. "I just didn't wanna stand out. Besides, I didn't wanna tell ya in case that would change your mind 'bout datin' me." You bit your lip and looked down shyly.

Wednesday didn't want to admit it but she secretly found your accent cute. She took your left hand and lowered her head, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Softening her gaze, she looked back up at you. "I love you just the way you are, cara mia. Don't ever forget that."

And of course as soon she said that, both Tyler and Xavier turned to you in shock.

"Told y'all." Was all you said before shrugging and walking out with Wednesday, hand-in-hand.

#wednesday series #wednesday fanfic #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday #nevermore #oneshot #gn reader #request #fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday x you #wednesday netflix

[billthedrake]

THE VETERAN

(This is an idea I've been batting around for a while. Thanks to @maturedadsandmen for the inspiration to see it through.)

"This round's on me, Ackerman," Jim Bowers said, with a quick squeeze of my shoulder before he went to get us another round of beers. His blue eyes twinkled, and I could see the wrinkles and crows feet on his weathered, tanned face. Bowers held his liquor better than me, but he was definitely buzzed, too.

It had been a long week, but the summer MLB draft was now complete and a lot of the front office guys - and gals, too, but mostly guys - were out celebrating. Only now, some of the guys were heading off to dinner or going home. A few were in a corner trying to hit on some women at the bar. Which left me chatting with Bowers.

I don't know why Jim had decided to be buddy-buddy with me. Over the last month, the sarcastic putdown of calling me Moneyball had somehow turned into a friendly nickname, when he wasn't calling me by last name. But I leaned into it. The man was a former professional player and a legend in Royals history. He'd coached for a good decade once the boredom of retirement finally sunk in, but then the wave of analytics pushed him out the door. So now he was a special advisor to the GM and the face of the business side of the organization. Not exactly a mascot, but Jim brought in more when his gravitas and old-school knowledge of the game mattered. Which wasn't all the time, and Jim knew that.

I tried not to have the hard-drinking ways that a lot of guys in baseball do, but it was a good occasion to let loose. I was feeling good, and I'd probably get drunk by nighttime. Thank god for Uber.

It was well-earned, but the problem was my sexual thoughts were coming to me with less filter than usual. Jim was making those sexual thoughts come hard and fast. I didn't even go for older guys, at least not that much older, not older like Bowers. The man was in his late 60s, old enough to be my granddad. But there was something powerfully sexy about the man. 6'2" and still had a decently muscled build from his daily gym routine, even if yeah, Bowers was getting his granddaddy on, more by the month.

And, damnit, that day, he was going commando in his shorts. I didn't try to scope him out, I swear, but Jim Bowers had a huge package. Thick, heavy genitals that looked obscene in his khaki shorts. Maybe the man was a show-er and not a grower, but the part he was showing looked pretty damn oversized. I'd forever think of him as Big Jim now.

I wasn't some green virgin. I was 28, with one long term relationship under my belt. I'd gotten my PhD in Applied Math at Minnesota and a plum job with the Royals right off the bat. It was why I'd studied what I'd studied. It was my dream job, doing analytics for a major league baseball team. From my little league days and collecting baseball cards, through playing baseball at my prep school to too many hours spent at college playing fantasy teams... it all led up to this.

My boyfriend Tom wasn't eager to switch jobs and move, and I wasn't eager to do the long-distance thing. We talked it out and, a week before I packed up my belongings, we broke up.

Breakups suck, but the consolation prize was rediscovering the world of hookups in a new city. I'd developed a fondness for Midwestern guys, and as a somewhat nerdy Jewish dude from New England I had fun having a different blond hunk every other weekend. I even hooked up with some older guys. I preferred guys my age but responded to a guy's personality and a shared sexual vibe over looks. And sometimes a daddy fit the bill.... Different looks, different body types and different sexual energy. It was all great.

But for me, Daddy meant like 40. Jim Bowers was rearranging my self-identified age range. Or maybe it was the beer.

"Here ya go," he said as he sauntered back with two beers in hand. Goddamn, the veteran looked FINE. I mean, no one would mistake his body for a 40 year old's or even a 50 year olds. It was mature muscle, but fit. Platelike pecs beneath the man's team-logo polo shirt, and pumped arms stretching the tanned, almost leathery skin that was covered in gray hair, matching the thicker silvery fur on his legs.

And, damn, that package: I could make out the contours of Jim Bowers' junk. There had been rumors of his heyday with the groupies. For all I knew he still had 'em, though maybe not like the current players.

We clinked glasses and the man looked me in the eye and said, "Now that the draft is done, you gonna stop being a workaholic, Moneyball?" he teased. "Maybe you can finally get a goddamn boyfriend."

Everyone in the front office knew I was gay and that was never an issue, but I also didn't make it an issue. No talk about my private life, no mention of the gay thing unless it was brought up. I was the epitome of professional, and when it came to happy hour drinks, well, I'd learned straight-dude male bonding as a way of blending in years ago.

"Come on, Jim," I said. And he knew exactly why.

"I know you got your work self and keep the rest private, buddy..." he said. "But, man, you're not as different as you think sometimes."

I don't know that I resented his words, but they rubbed me the wrong way. How was Bowers to know what I dealt with? Maybe if I hadn't been perving on the guy, I would have been more bothered.

"How so?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Take Campbell," he said, referring to Mitch Campbell, who was one of the scouts. "Good looking guy. Goes on dates all the time, but can't think of a goddamn thing to talk about to girls except baseball." Jim gave a smirk. "Girl doesn't call back, and Campbell's back to Square One."

At another moment, Bowers talk would be too old-school I-told-you-so in its condescension. Now, I was amused as hell. "You got Mitch all figured out, huh?" I teased.

Jim's blue eyes lit up some. "Tell me I'm wrong, Moneyball."

I smiled. "You're probably right," I conceded. Then, feeling my guard let down, I added, "You know, with gay guys, they like the idea of a baseball dude, but it's more the fantasy than the reality, you know?" I blushed as I spoke, but something about the drunken happy hour moment was removing my filter. "Maybe if I were a player, they'd be into the jock thing."

Bowers laughed and gave a smirk. He'd been the recipient of jock worship, even if it was from women. "You're just like Campbell, Moneyball... deep down." He patted my back. "But you're a good looking dude, and a good kid... any man would be lucky to land ya, buddy."

I ate up the words but had to reply, "Not the pep talking I was expecting tonight, Jim."

He reflected a second. "Yeah, I guess I dish out the advice easier than I can take it." Bowers had married three times and was now divorced and, as far as I knew, single.

Our conversation shifted subjects, but we got caught up in talking. I ate up his stories from his pro days, and Jim asked me about the math stuff I did. Maybe the man was right, I wasn't good at talking about much other than baseball, but he was a lifer and his whole life was the game, too.

I emptied my pint glass and had to do a mental calculation if I was gonna have another. I was on the fence. I should go home, but if Jim was having another, I knew I would too.

Instead he gave me a questioning look. "Feel like coming back to my place, Ackerman?" he asked. "We can have another one there."

The last part felt like it was added on to save face. In case I wasn't on the same wavelength. Maybe I'd been dumb in not reading the signals. Maybe I was misreading them now. But that was my first inkling that Jim Bowers was making a pass at me.

I blushed as I replied. "Sounds good, Jim," I said. "But neither one of us is driving."

"Yeah," he admitted. He was buzzed all right. He patted my shoulder. Kind of paternal but with a definite look of sexual interest in his gaze. Damn, this was not what I'd been expecting. He broke that look as he pulled out his phone to get an uber.

The guys had all gone by then and we stepped outside to wait for the car, it was getting dark out. We'd been in there a while.

"Damn, I'm starving," Jim said. "Maybe I can order us a pizza."

"Sure," I said. Hands in my pockets out of nervousness more than anything. This was probably a really bad idea, but I felt crazy attracted to Bowers, more than I'd let myself admit before tonight. This was playing out so different than a gay hookup, so I was feeling out the dynamic. But his touch between my shoulder blades as he guided me first toward the car... that touch alone was enough to make me chub.

Jim's place was big, too big for a bachelor. But it felt surprisingly homey.

"Let me get us some waters," he said. I wasn't overly drunk but he was right, it was good to drink something besides beer.

I chugged down a few sips from the plastic bottle and looked at Jim. "Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," Bowers said. Then with a soft voice, he added, "Damn, you're really fucking cute, Dave." He set down his bottle and stepped up to me.

I hadn't expected Bowers to be into dudes, at all, and I definitely didn't expect him to kiss. But he had no hesitation pulling me into a soft, wet kiss. It was a little drunken, but it was the surprise sexual attraction that made my head light. Fit as he may be, Jim was a mature guy, and I knew I was kissing a 60-something man, a man nearing 70. It was a strange thrill.

"You're into this, right?" the man hissed as he pulled back, giving me an up close view of his handsome features: roman nose, round cheeks, and gray hair growing more silver by the year, cut in a medium-short style. His hairline receded just a little but remarkably he still had a full head of hair. "I'm not looking for any HR issues," he chuckled.

"Oh I'm into it," I answered. "I guess it's just between us, right?" I was asking for his assurance as much as I was giving him mine.

"Absolutely," he said. His eyes were on me but his arm was reaching down. In my peripheral vision I could tell he was unzipping. And pulling out his dick. His grin cocked. "I'm really horny, man," he said.

I looked down. There it was, that pro-veteran baller cock. Heavy was an understatement. Jim Bowers packed a very thick, powerful 8 inch tool that jutted out of his open crotch. It was big and spongy and rock hard all at once. I wondered if he took a pill for his erections. I didn't fucking care. Bowers had an amazing cock.

I gave him one last look, a playful, sexy look, then crouched in front of him. I reached out and touched that meat, holding it. It had a soft give to the erection, but also twitched in my hand. It was my first mature cock, and I decided I liked it. Jim was hot to the touch as I angled his erection down to my lips.

"Oh yeah, buddy..." he hissed. "Lick my cock... like that."

The more I ran my tongue up and down his shaft, the bigger and heavier it felt. He tasted salty but then as I bathed his dick the flavor was cleaner. I finally figured I'd given enough foreplay and pulled that dong between my open lips.

He had enough girth to challenge me. I liked sucking dick, but I wasn't an expert at it. I guess lately I'd gotten more into anal and more into topping in my hookups. Even if I still went down on a guy, as foreplay or the main event, Bowers was bigger than I'd encountered.

But it was like riding a bike, I suppose. My initial difficulties gave way to a steady bobbing on his fat rod, feeling a good four or five inches push the confines of my throat with each motion of my mouth. It was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.

Nothing compared to the pleasure Jim was feeling. "Oh God... hell yes... work my fucking cock, man.... like that, yeah.... "

As I bobbed up and down I could see the silvery hair in his crotch, just a few darker hairs among them. And my hands felt up his mature legs, still strong, and now very furry. I was sucking a 68, maybe 69 year old and I realized I fuckin' loved this.

I always figured old guys took a long time to cum. Jim wasn't a quick cummer, but after about three minutes of giving him head I sensed the telltale signs. The urgency in his voice, the quiver in his quad muscle.

"FUCK! Here comes my fucking load, bud," he announced.

That heavy fat mature dong jerked in my throat as Bowers fed me his seed. I did my best to keep working him through that ejaculation, accentuating his orgasm with my mouth and suction.

He finally pushed my off with a friendly laugh. "Easy there, man... I think you got it all."

I looked up, knowing I felt proud. More than I'd been with my hookups. If I was honest, happier in sex than I'd been with my ex Tom. "Fuck, that was hot," I hissed.

Jim nodded. Face flushed red, his gray hair looked whiter. He somehow looked younger and older at the same time.

"Give me a second and I'll take care of you," he announced.

Not what I was expecting but I wasn't going to turn down the offer. I stood up, feeling drunk and light headed from the BJ. I started undoing my shorts and pulling them and my briefs off.

Jim grinned and reached down to grip my boner. "You 27 year olds are always rock hard," he teased, pulling my dick down to let it thwap up at the release.

"28," I corrected. "And how many have there been?" I laughed.

"Enough," he grinned. He gave my meat another look then said, "All right." And like that, the former baseball star, a man whose card I'd collected as a kid, was now getting down to suck me off.

If it hadn't been for the alcohol, I would have blasted in 20 seconds. Instead, now, I enjoyed getting head from Bowers. The slow suckling, the gentle bobs, the vision of his mature muscled bod in front of me. I ran my hands through his silvery hair.

Grandaddy was gonna work for my load, all right, and that idea was enough to get me to cum.

"Jim!" I gasped, surprised at how quickly orgasm snuck up on me and wanting to warn him.

He was a trooper, readying himself or my cum and then steadily sucking it down as I shot good and heavy into his mouth.

"Like I say," he teased when he finally pulled off. "You fucking need a boyfriend, Moneyball." He gave my leg a gentle pat then stood up. Reaching over he picked up his water bottle. To rehydrate or to wash down the flavor of cum, I wasn't sure.

Sheepishly, I pulled my underwear and shorts back on. Crossing some boundaries with Bowers had been naughty fun and all, but this part felt awkward. I started imagining what life was going to be like in the clubhouse from now on.

But Bowers stood in front of me, unabashed being naked from the waist down. His pJim hung fat and heavy, past his low-hanger balls covered in silver hair. He was definitely a show-er, even if his hard on had measured big.

"The offer for pizza still stands, Ackerman," he said, his blue eyes now normal friendly rather than lusty in their gaze. "If you wanna stay."

"You sure?" I asked.

Jim shrugged. "I'm not gonna be offended if you dash off," he said. "I've done it plenty, you know."

"It's not that," I started to say. Then, "Well, maybe it is.... but if you're OK, I could definitely eat."

That made Jim chuckle. "All right. You a peperoni man?"

****

The drunkenness was wearing off as we scarfed down the pizza. As I worked on the last slice, Jim came in with a freshly opened beer can for me, and one for him.

"I promised you a drink," he said.

"I figured that was just a pick up line," I replied. Something about sex made me feel I could be familiar with the man.

"Oh, it absolutely was," he said. "I'm not the most original guy in my lines."

I looked at his body. Relaxed on the couch. I calculated how his current body compared to a couple decades ago. I liked what Bowers had going on now, the contrast of hard and soft, muscled and aging. "You don't need killer lines when you have a killer bod," I said, flirting some.

Jim laughed but seemed into what I was saying. "You think I have a killer bod, Moneyball?"

I nodded. "Definitely." I looked at him openly. I wasn't gonna bone for round too but I was still feeling sexual. "That bug you?"

"Not at all," he said. He took a sip of beer and seemed to be looking me over, too. "You into older guys?"

"Not really," I answered. "At least not before you." I blushed as I admitted that. "Let's just say you're expanding my horizons, Jim."

He seemed to take that in. "You know, I haven't seen all your goods, Ackerman... feel like showing off a little for me?"

"You wanna see my body?" I confirmed.

"Yeah, I wanna see your fucking body," he said, leaning back into the couch cushion and spreading his legs.

I set down my beer and stood up. I peeled off my T-shirt, then undid my shorts. I spent a lot of time in the gym and had a pretty good body. By most standards it would be considered a great body, but being around professional players, I seemed more ordinary in comparison.

"Nice," Jim said. Genuinely into what I had going on. "Not just a pretty face, huh?"

I blushed. "I try, Jim."

"You do more than try... turn around," he instructed. He took in the view of my backside and my ass, before I turned back to face hi.

"Sorry, I'm getting a little chubbed." My dick was rising up and fast.

"That's hot," he said. With a concerted look he peeled off his polo shirt. I practically gasped when I saw that white-furred muscle. It was magnificent and everything I imagined Jim Bowers would be bare chested. Still had a lot of that ball-player power to him.

"Wow," I gasped. My dick was standing full up at the sight. "OK... I definitely have a thing for older men," I said. Then, "I hope you don't mind my saying that, Jim."

He gave a soft smile. "I don't mind, Dave." He leaned back and showed off his upper body some, inviting my gaze before he reached down to undo his shorts once more. They slipped off easily. I noticed that his legs were strong and sinewed but he had more muscle loss there than his upper bod.

His prick was fully and semi-firm but not throwing hard. "Think I can feel up some of that 28-year-old muscle?" he asked. Scooting down, he lay on the couch, face up and bared in his magnificent nakedness.

I took the invitation and went back to the couch to lie on top of this former star. I still had to pinch myself this was happening. The sex, but the whole evening. We both groaned as I made body contact, my hands on his chest and his on mine, while our cocks touched.

"So, Jim..." I started. "I don't wanna kill the vibe, but what's your deal?"

His hand traveled along my upper chest and over my arms. "I guess I reached a certain age and decided to stop having hang ups. Sex with guys is just easier these days."

"Yeah?" I asked.

He nodded. "A young guy... you can fool around with and he doesn't expect anything, you know?" I could feel his dick move against mine and instinctively I knew our heartbeats were synching up. "I'm not gonna lead you on, Ackerman.... not looking to date or anything, you know?"

"No offense, Jim," I said. "But I probably should stick to guys closer my own age to date."

"Probably, yeah," he laughed. His hands were now openly feeling up my back muscle as I lay on top of him. He was taller than me by two inches and had some more weight to him. It felt comforting and relaxed being naked in this position. Sexual but not we-gotta-fuck-now sexual. "If you ever feel like having fun with an old man, though..." he started.

"I definitely do," I answered. "I didn't think I'd be into this, actually," I blushed.

"Be into what?" he asked.

"The age gap," I said.

He got an impish look on his face. "You into the Granddaddies, huh?"

Fuck, I hissed. It was such a naughty thing, but it made my dick jerk, which made Jim laugh.

He patted my bare ass. "Listen, bud. I'm 69. I'm not gonna be able to get it on twice in one night. But if you feel like staying over..."

"Yeah, I'd like that," I said.

He kissed, softly. And soon we were making out. Feeling each other up. I could have gone for a round two for sure, but I didn't need to. And that made this all the better, just connecting nude body to nude body with Jim's mature veteran-baller build.

By the time we got up off the couch, I was dripping precum heavily on that swirl of silvery hair on Jim's stomach. I was rock hard as I helped him up and helped him tidy up everything and take plates and cans back to the kitchen. Eventually my erection flagged but Jim didn't make a move to put clothes back on, so I didn't either.

I was starting to second guess myself. This was a man I'd see around work. Maybe this was gonna get complicated, real fast, even if we weren't looking for anything serious.

He had a spare toothbrush for me and set out some towels if I wanted to use them. I looked in myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. I often went back and forth in my self esteem, feeling cocky about my looks, then feeling all sorts of self doubt about my body and how I compared to whatever perfect guy I imagined or lusted after. But I saw myself in Jim's eyes. Maybe he went for me because I was an out gay guy, maybe an easy target. Maybe he liked that I had that nerdy but fit thing going on. Whatever it was, I was glad I'd spent the last couple of years hitting the weights and eating well.

He was already under the covers when I joined him in the king sized bed.

"Thanks for a fun evening, Ackerman," he said, his voice now sleepy. It was later than I realized.

"God, Jim, it's been wild."

"I don't normally have guys sleep over," he said. Maybe wanting me not to get any ideas.

"I don't always sleep over when they ask," I said.

He smirked. "All right, bud... ready for some sleep?"

"Yeah," I said.

And I watched his thick muscle bunch as he leaned over to turn off the light.

2

"Hey buddy," Jim Bowers said as he ushered me inside. I didn't always come over to his place. Sometimes the legendary veteran would swing by my condo for some no-strings fun before work, or after playing golf. I'd enjoying giving him a nice BJ - it was kind of my big challenge and thrill, getting used the girth and length of Big Jim's meat and getting off on our age gap. The latter was just as thrilling when Jim would have me kick back for his turn at reciprocating.

We even snuck in a BJ in a parking lot once, but while the risk felt fun, it was, well, risky.

I'd worried this would mess up things at work. Bowers wasn't my boss, but he held a senior position in the front office org chart, an advisor to my big boss. Yet the man was completely normal after our first hook up. It relaxed me for when he hit me up for a second time. Then another.

Sometimes it felt like a booty call, sometimes we grabbed a bite and a beer after sex. It was all good.

But today was different. Big Jim said he wanted to fuck me.

He was looking incredible now, shirtless and showing off that mature muscle, dusted with silver hair.

"Hey Jim," I said, stepping in. We met for a quick kiss, which became not a quick one. I could tell the ex-pro was really worked up today, and despite my nervousness, I was, too. We laughed a little at how horny we were when I finally broke the connection and stepped back.

"You look amazing," I said.

He flexed a little. Best of all, I could see that heavy dick in his mesh shorts. Not hanging either but boned up into a hard ridge. The man was in heat.

"How much you work out?" I asked. It had been on my mind for a while. For a man his age, Bowers was very well preserved.

Big Jim didn't miss a beat. "A hell of a lot, Moneyball," he said with a smirk. He cocked his head back toward his bedroom. "Feel like getting down to it? Or you want a drink or something?"

My heart fluttered a little bit. "I'm horny as fuck," I replied. "But I won't lie: I'm a little scared."

"Scared? Why?" Jim asked. I realized he was sincere in his question. Like it hadn't occurred to him.

"For starters, I don't bottom much," I said, then nodded down to his crotch. "And then there's that beast you got between your legs."

That made Bowers smile. I probably wasn't the first to compliment his endowment and wouldn't be the last. But the ego boost was appreciated. "You seem to like it."

"Hell yeah I like," I said. "I love it," I added in admission. "But that's a lot of dick to take."

He chuckled, stepping up to me, and running his fingers along my cheek. "You're overthinking it, Ackerman. Let's just enjoy this."

Easy for him to say, I thought. But something about him was charming me. The weathered face, the sea blue eyes, the craggly voice. I was gonna go with it. "All right, lead the way," I hissed.

I peeled off my T-shirt and shorts as I stepped into his bedroom. I'd learned to go commando for these hookups and as I freed my meat, my dick firmed up quickly as Jim pulled down the sheets and then slid down his shorts.

I saw one reason for that massive hardon. Bowers had a cock ring on, which made that dick firmer than normal. He saw where I was looking. "Hope you don't mind the ring, bud. Just gives a little more insurance at my age."

I crawled on the bed and showed how little I minded it. Scooting forward, I let Big Jim guide that hard meat to my mouth.

"Yes...." he grunted as I sucked in a few inches, then choked down another. I was getting better at this. My face blushed as I sucked, my bare ass up for Jim's gaze. I wasn't used for being so bottomy, so open in servicing with a guy, but it was a fun new mode. Particularly as I smelled Bowers' clean soapy scent and could see the silvery crotch hair in front of me.

He put his hands on his hips and let me do the work. The man loved a BJ. I mean, who doesn't? But Jim seemed to really crave oral sex. I half thought he'd change his mind today and let me get him off with my mouth. I'd cleaned myself out and prepped for anal, but a part of me wouldn't have been upset with a change of plans.

But I felt his hand on my head, nudging me back.

"Lie back," he urged.

I scrambled back, letting Big Jim see my naked body. The man got off on my youth, on the fact he had a 20-something stud in his bed. He'd told me as much, but his eyes confirmed it now as he stood next to the bed and pumped some lube into his hand, fisting that rock hard granddaddy meat.

"I hope to god you don't think you're just gonna ram that thing up me," I said in a nervous joking tone.

He grinned and shook his head. "Relax, Ackerman, I know what I'm doing." He got on the bed, his core contracting as he shifted his weight forward. Our lips met for a second and I took a moment to feel up that mature brawn. It was still a head fuck that I was having sex with THE Jim Bowers. Even if he wasn't quite my main childhood idle or on my favorite team growing up, I used to watch watch him play all the time, and it felt like I was in the presence of a legend.

He leaned up and I took in that view of Bowers's strong shoulder muscle and thick arms. He gave a couple of soft kisses along my abs as he scooted down. "Lift 'em up, buddy," he urged.

I was nervous but I wanted this, I decided. It had been a solid year since I'd bottomed, but I was getting in the mood now. As I pulled back my legs, Big Jim was gonna get me all the way there. He leaned in and I felt his breath and his five o clock stubble before his tongue darted out to lick me.

Here was a man of surprises, all right. Jim Bowers was really into eating ass. It tickled at first, and I fought to keep the tickling sensation from overwhelming me. It was just my body's defensiveness. It was half mental, but also the unfamiliarity of having my ass stimulated. But Jim's tongue pressed deeper in, and the feeling changed. Rawer, more overtly sexual.

"God," I grunted. It was a mind fuck, too, looking down at this older man, almost 70, going to town on my hole. And me letting him.

He took his time but I could tell he was horny now. After a minute or so he leaned up and let out a soft growl of approval. "Hot hole, Dave," he said, timing the pressing of his first finger perfectly. It was lubed, and I enjoyed the thickness of his digit entering me. He dug around some, worming my sphincter open more before diving in for another rim job.

"You got nice and clean for me, buddy," he said with approval.

"Yeah," I replied, holding my legs back and letting him prepare me. Alternating rimming with more fingering. Pretty soon he was focused on the latter, two then three then two then three fingers, drizzling more lube at the connecting spot.

He looked down at me, horny. Maybe that cock was viagra-ed up or maybe the cock ring was doing all the work. But it was steel rigid.

He pulled his hand back and lined up that heavy, hard meat. "You got this, man..." was all he said, before I felt that dull stinging of his penetration.

"Fuck!" I cried. Not in pain but more in fear.

He held steady, an inch of that fat dick wedged in my ring. "You're tight as hell," he observed. "Just relax, Ackerman."

"I'm trying!" I laughed.

Jim smiled. God he was so handsome and sexy. I didn't think I'd ever be into a guy pushing 70, but at that moment I knew I really was. He pulled back and fisted that big meat. I felt bad I was extra work to get in. But he leaned in and kissed me some. Sensual, tongue-heavy kissing while his fingers went back down to work my hole again.

I was ready this time. He broke the kiss but didn't pull back entirely. Deftly he placed that dong at my hole and applied just the right amount of force. And like that I had three solid inches of Jim Bowers' fatness in me.

I clenched my teeth and gripped his biceps in automatic response.

His eyes challenged mine. "You got this," he assured me. More confident than I was. More pressure was pushing that very wet, very lubed phallus into me. I was tight but also enjoying that stretching feeling. Maybe because Big Jim was going slow.

He nodded at me, his face now serious, not very sexual and horny. "You feel SO fucking good on my dick buddy," he growled in a low voice. That gravely Bowers voice. "You gonna make your Granddad feel good?"

We'd tossed back the granddaddy term. For me it was an extension of "daddy" - a daddy with a few extra years. Mature like Jim. But now that term hit me in a pervy place. My bowels unclenched and welcomed all of that magnificent cock into me.

"Yeah you are," Big Jim hissed.

"God, Granddad..." I moaned, hesitant at first, trying it out.

"I got ya, boy," he said, more aloud as he began his first thrust. Not hard, but a real fuck thrust into me. With Jim's size, it felt like a lot and was rapidly rearranging my previous assumptions - of being mostly top, of not being into grandpas.

His hips swiveled slowly as I held his muscular body and welcomed him into me. I felt like we weren't just having sex. We were mating. I was being owned from the inside out. I didn't normally feel whorish with a guy, but Big Jim was pushing some button deep inside me. Physically and psychologically.

"Fuck me, Jim!" I said, more assertively now. "Fuck me, Granddad."

His lips curled up and he threw more force into his thrusts. I was ready for it now. Unbelievably I was enjoying this. It was intense as hell, like it could become uncomfortable at any moment, but my ass felt alive, and I felt alive beneath this man, who was fucking for his pleasure. The lube on his cock kept my guts from clenching down too hard on his pistoning shaft, or when I did they didn't have anything to grip onto. The man was fucking me unimpeded.

I looked into his wrinkled, weathered, handsome face. Imagining how many groupies he'd nailed over the years. How easy it must have been for him to get laid in his prime. How easy it was for him now.

I didn't think a hands-free cum was a possibility for me. Maybe technically it wasn't since Big Jim's soft belly fur and belly were rubbing against my rigid cock. But I started cumming hard.

"Jim!" I exclaimed, feeling that immense pleasure rising up from deep within me.

That excited him all right. He fucked me and fucked me hard. Fast even, eager to maximize the sensations on his mature cock. "Right behind ya, kid," he grunted.

The idea he was gonna nut in me thrilled me and made another shot of cum push out of my cock.

I love watching men cum and seeing Big Jim in full orgasm was incredible. His older muscle tensing up and his voice sounding older as he cried out. Then him relaxing in tired stillness on top of me for a second before he moved his head to give me a soft kiss and pushed up to relieve the brunt of his bulk on top of me.

I felt that thickness retreat and plop out of me. I felt slutty and maybe not in a good way as Big Jim's cum ran out of my used hole. But in every other way I felt happy and satisfied. Especially seing the smile on the man's face as he rolled off and lay next to me, nudging my chin playfully.

"You were a trooper, Moneyball," he said finally.

"I don't know if I should have enjoyed that so much," I admitted.

"Why the hell not?" Big Jim challenged me.

"Long answer or short answer?" I replied.

"Let's start with the short."

"Maybe I'm a little kinkier than I realized."

Jim shrugged and leaned up, sitting back against one of the pillows. "Nothing wrong with that, fella."

I copied his move, but not before shaking out the cramps from my legs. My ass hole felt loose and wet but the new sitting position made it less exposed. "So the Granddad thing..." I didn't even know what I wanted to ask, but I knew I had to check in with Jim.

He chuckled. "Seems to get you going, buddy. It's a little weird, I guess," he added. "I mean, I have grandkids and all. But I figure this is something different altogether."

"It is," I assured him. I looked down at my body. Dick well sated, cum smeared on my belly and chest. "I'm a fricking mess."

Jim agreed. "Let's get you cleaned up, Moneyball." He slid out of bed and extended his hand to help me up. At that moment, despite being much younger I felt weaker from the sexual exhaustion. "If you have evening plans, that's cool, but I feel like I owe you a nice dinner for putting out like that."

I enjoyed this camaraderie and enjoyed the shower we shared together. A chance to soap up his mature body. A part of me worried if I should be seen in public extensively with Bowers, alone with him, but we did work together and I'm sure could come up with a reason if anyone saw us.

Then as Jim soaped me up from behind and pulled me into his sudsy wet body, that fat dong there, the one that had given me what felt like a second deflowering... I realized Big Jim was right. I was overthinking it.

#drakestories

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you

masterlist ౨ৎ chapter two

summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying the small town.

warnings: swearing, angst

words: 1.8k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for so so long and tbh i haven't written a fanfic since i was 12... and i'm fr 22, but i've ran out of twilight fanfics to read (i've been waiting weeks for one specific one to update and i'm going crazy)... so anyways !! hope you enjoy !!

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the trees of Forks, Washington. After an almost four hour drive, I could sense that I was nearing my home as the city was nowhere to be found. Instead it was replaced with deep green trees, dim skies, and the small shops that swept by as my dad drove.

I liked Forks, more than I probably should. Everyone here, mostly the kids, sulked about big bright cities where the sun would actually make an appearance. They longed for the liveliness that Forks had never given them.

But me? I secretly adored the quietness of it all. But of course, I had a disadvantage. Every summer I bathed in the sun rays of California, visited the busy cities, the warm beaches, and the overall liveliness that was craved from everyone else. But I was drained. Normally, it would be the opposite from any other person, but I always loved the cold. Ever since I was a kid, my little brain was wired to believe that Forks was almost like Christmas every single day of the year. So, rain, snow, or even ice (even with the ungodly amount of times I've slipped) never had me in too big of a rut.

With my mom back in California, though I loved her to death, was an absolute headache most of the time. And unlike my dad, she hovered. But, it wasn't her fault. The summer is the only time she had me, the rest were reserved with Charlie, which had resulted in this summer's mishaps: she begged me to stay longer. One would think that school would be an easy get out, but she knew the first month was nothing but dry introductions, syllabi, and effortless assignments. It was partly my fault. I was never one to turn her down, perhaps it was guilt because maybe she and I felt deep down that I favored my father more because who could ever turn down a chance to live in the perfect bustling city of San Francisco over Forks.

So I stayed. But now, it's the beginning of October. Thankfully, I was able to get in contact with the school in order to get all of my classes in order, as well as the help of my best friend, Angela, who emailed me all of the assignments. Jessica on the other hand, filled me in on all of the gossip. Her phone calls consisted of talks about her massive crush on Mike as well as the new and "totally weird" (as Jessica put it) family. "Suuupperrr pale, but weirdly GORGEOUS. I mean this Edward guy, he's wow. I swear if Mike doesn't make a move soon... I wonder if I could make him jealous?" The conversations were mostly one-sided, always either complaining about Mike's obliviousness or never catching that new guy's attention.

Now that I knew I was caught up on everything to do with school, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed and prepare for an alarm that hasn't been set in months.

I awoke to the sound of a car honking outside my window, assuming it was nothing, I settled back into my pillows, throwing my purple duvet back over your head for hopefully another thirty minutes of sleep.

"Y/N/N!" I heard my dad's voice accompanied by one of his famously loud whistles from outside of my window. That's when I finally got up and peered over with squinting eyes to see my father coming out of a car that most definitely wasn't his squad car.

Once my vision settled, I saw a green Volkswagen beetle parked in the driveway. No fucking way. I sprinted down the stairs and flung the front door open to see my father with a wide grin, gesturing the keys in front of my face.

"For me? You're joking?" I said in complete shock.

"You want me to be joking? Cause if so I can just bring this right back to Billy and let him sell it to some other geezer."

"No! No! No! I mean... Thank you, dad. Oh my god, how did you guys even find this?"

"Well, consider it a late birthday present. Billy and Jacob found it back in May for your birthday and decided to fix it up for ya, free of charge, but I paid 'em of course."

"Thanks dad and how about we invite Billy and Jacob over sometime and I'll cook? As a thank you?"

"You bet."

Once I parked in front of the school, my group of friends welcomed me with open arms, with Angela and Jessica squealing about how much they missed you and the boys, mostly just Mike, trying to awkwardly hug me.

I knew Mike had a crush on me, since third grade to be exact, which only made it worse for my friendship with Jessica, which made it worse for Lauren, Jessica's bestest friend to have an even better reason to despise me.

The first four classes: English, Government, Trigonometry, and French were surprisingly a breeze thanks to the assignments either Angela or the teachers sent over while I was away.

While at lunch, a new, unfamiliar bunch emerged from the cafeteria doors. They were beautiful... and also extremely pale even for Forks. So, this was the family Jessica was practically drooling over?

"Who are they?" I questioned anyways.

Jessica leans in, being careful to whisper, "It's the family I was telling you about. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska like last month."

I studied the first girl who walked in, bleached blonde hair, almost black eyes that were almost unsettling, she wore a thin grey coat and a knitted white scarf that matched her icy skin, and a necklace with a large charm that looked to be a family crest of some sort.

"The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett..." Jessica continued.

More of the family gathered in slowly, the blonde was linking hands with a man with jet black hair, with the same family crest residing on his wrist.

"... they're a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal." Jessica grimaced.

Angela piped in, "Jess, they're not actually related."

"But they live together and all wear that weird creepy crest like some sort of cult. And the little dark haired girl, Alice, she's really weird..."

Despite Jessica's remarks, Alice was the one who caught my eye the most so far and not in a negative way. She reminded me of a fairy almost with her pixie-like hair cut, her style, and the way she carried herself, which was pretty whimsical in a way. Her arms were locked with a man beside her, bleached blonde just as Rosalie was.

"... she's with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he's in pain" Jessica continued on, "I mean, Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad slash match maker."

"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela giggled.

The last Cullen to enter, I assumed it was Edward, the man Jessica claimed to be weirdly gorgeous and 'wow'. 'Wow' was the perfect word to explain how I felt as he strode down the cafeteria. I couldn't keep your eyes off of him, even as he went past your table, I was oddly captivated by his presence. He had a lanky body, matched with the same pale skin as his siblings, bronze hair and striking smirk. You could've sworn he heard Jessica's whispered remarks from across the cafeteria.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." She does. "Anyway, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." I looked away before his eyes could find mine and once I did, I felt as if holes were practically burned at the back of my head. Was he staring?

Out of curiosity, I peered over my shoulder, quickly glancing, seeing his eyes on mine and quickly turning my eyes back, slowly hiding behind my hair.

Before I walked into Biology, I shuffled through my backpack to look for the assignments I'd done in your time away, settling them in my hands as I walked through the door.

Greeting Mr. Banner, I handed him my completed assignments that were neatly put together with a paper clip.

"Finally nice to see you Miss Y/L/N, how was your summer?" Being great at biology put you at an advantage, not only for assignments, but because Mr. Banner didn't question much about my month long disappearance, but I couldn't say the same about PE...

"It was good, thank you."

"Well that's great, I'm glad! And I appreciate your completed assignments, not even people attending have it all quite done like you have!" He rambled. "So! Your seat... There's a seating chart, but there should be an empty seat I left for you...,yes! Right there, next to Mr. Cullen." Mr. Banner pointed to the right side of the classroom to the seat next to the Cullen boy.

Edward's eyes once again felt as if they burned through my own, staring at me as if you had wronged him in some way. The hatred in his eyes was well aware, but for what reason?

With each step I took, the more disgust in his features appeared, almost as if he was holding his breath. Did I stink or something? I attempted not to smell myself to see if perhaps I had raging body odor or even a bad breath that radiated from across the classroom. No one else seemed to have an issue besides him.

Once I was sat, I heard him mutter into a cough, but I only made eye contact with his beading black eyes and said nothing at all. He only pushed the microscope towards me slowly, being careful to not come any closer to me as if he would catch something.

I sighed loudly, making my annoyance well known. He only just tensed.

Throughout the entirety of the class, the tension continued. I even considered going up to Mr. Banner and asking to switch seats with someone, but that only sparked the possibility of Mike forcing Eric to switch seats and I honestly couldn't figure out which would be worse. So, I decided to suffer through the entire hour and perhaps learn to suffer the entire year partnered with a man who could hardly even look me in the eye without being utterly disgusted.

At first I was hurt, but the hurt swiftly turned into annoyance once the partner sessions began. He didn't even consult with me, rather he just scribbled as fast as he could, only of what he was able to see through the microscope, only handing it to me after to check his answers. All correct, surprisingly.

Staring at the clock, I was counting down the time until the bell. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Edward had gotten up, practically running out of the classroom before the bell had officially rung.

next chapter

#violent delights #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x y/n #twilight #twilight rewrite #twilight fanfiction #edward cullen fanfiction #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #violent delights fanfiction #violent delights fanfic

[adora-but-ginger]

Incipient

incipient (adj.): the initial stage, beginning to develop, a bloom about to happen; commonly used for people when referring to the start of a new friendship, relationship; what could be.

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

summary: you've had enough of joel putting the blame on you.

word count: ~ 2.4k(ish)

warnings: typical tlou violence and warnings, clickers, minor injury, the use of a machete and a gun, angst, fluff, swearing, a little bit of an age gap, spoliers for episode two, talk of handling grief, tbh joel deserves a warning for himself in general.

masterlist

a/n: okay so this has quite literally been haunting my drafts for the past two weeks, but i've been swamped with work, and the weather has been (not to be dramatic but) the worst it's been since i've moved here. also, you know that one edit of pedro? the one of him as agent whiskey? yeah, that one. it's been living rent free in my mind, meaning more pedro fics will be created. thank you for reading! <3

oh yeah, i almost forgot! don't repost my stories, because only people that bald early do that, and i bet you wouldn't like that too much, hmm?

credit to gif owner!!

Something had changed after Tess was gone. After sneaking out of the State House and watching it get blown to bits, something inside you had dampened. Sure, you and Tess weren't friends, but you both had helped each other out of some trouble here and there, and that's not even mentioning the problems you helped diffuse with Joel. But she was hellbent on making sure Ellie got to where she needed to be, and the least you could do would be to honour her last wish.

Ellie had tried to bring Tess up after you all escaped, but Joel quickly shut her down, turning to you before starting with his usual ways, closing up any emotions in regard to grief and shoving them away. But he didn't stop there, oh no. The only other outlet he knew of was anger, and he picked you to be on the receiving end.

You figured it was better you than Ellie, but it still didn't excuse his actions.

He was never overly kind to you, and you never expected him to be, but after Tess had gone and the weeks piled up, his fuse kept getting shorter and shorter.

You shouldn't have gone first into the abandoned building.

You should watch how much ammo you use.

If you had been thinking ahead, you would've known that there would have been infected in the area.

And though he was really getting on your nerves, you didn't speak up about it, because you figured it could be a lot worse. You were never that confrontational before the outbreak, and you were still trying to work on it. You got that he needed a way to handle his grief, but jesus christ this was becoming too much, and it was just a matter of time before you snapped.

The three of you had entered what looked to be the remnants of what used to be a garden center when you dealt it back to him. The old building had run rampant with the different plants that used to be properly contained inside, a jungle of green that grew once the roof caved in. You had all just narrowly avoided a group of runners and found solace in the building, but your guard remained up.

It was hard to maneuver through, the plants reclaiming every inch. Plus, you had no idea what could be hiding in the shadows that these photosynthesizing beings could produce.

"This is like a fucking maze." You whispered, making sure to keep your voice down.

"Did you guys ever watch that really old movie Jumanji?" Ellie said as she pushed back some leaves. Joel snorted at that, shaking his head. He was bringing up the back, everyone walking in a line to get to the other side.

You were in the front, carving a path as best as you could. You turned your head to look back at the other two with a small chuckle. "I really never know what you're going to say, El."

"Well, someone's gotta keep up the conversation, with Mr. grumpy back there always being so talkative."

Joel rolled his eyes. "We need to be careful, there's no time for--" A shriek filled everyone's ears, finishing his statement for him. A shriek that could only belong to one type of creature: a clicker.

It came from what sounded like the next room, meaning they weren't as alone as they suspected.

Eyes wide, you locked yours with Joel. He put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion before nodding to the machete in your hands that was helping you clear the path, the machete that coincidentally was caught in the middle of a thick stem. There was barely a walkway behind you all, and the runners were no doubt looming outside the entrance. You guys were caught in the middle of a real situation, one that didn't have a bright outcome at the end. Best case scenario, there was only one clicker ahead of you all, but you found that doubtful.

Joel had moved to the middle, maneuvering Ellie behind him. He put his hand over your own to help slowly remove the machete, which had more of an affect on you than you'd care to admit. Yeah, it was the end of times, but you were touch starved.

The clicker's calls knocked you out of your momentary daze, opting to instead take a deep, silent breath. Slowly you moved the weapon out of the green, and you had just relaxed your shoulders when you realized how desperate this situation really was. The machete had obscured part of your view before, but not even ten feet in front of you stood the source of your fear, moving and clicking, searching for some more to share the fungus with.

You had become used to managing your breathing tempo these days, but the haze that Joel had caused mixed with the dead slowly inching towards you had you, well, distracted to say the least. His hand hadn't left its grip around yours, if anything it had tightened around your own, which was something you were definitely going to bring up if you all made it out unscathed.

It didn't help that he was directly behind you. He was like a brick wall, not that you were complaining.

But the moment you knew that you were all toast was when he became aware of how close he was to you too. Because he straightened his back, just slightly, fixing his posture around you, and in that fraction of a second, his foot moved just little enough to kick a piece of debris.

The three of you held your breath, hoping that it wasn't enough to get the creature to turn your way.

There was a reason hope ran so little nowadays.

These sorts of situations always tended to play out in slow motion for you. It was as if every opportunity death took to look upon you, it wanted to make sure you were giving your full attention to it.

The clicker screamed and shot itself towards you, and without even realizing it you had pushed Joel back and sliced at it. "Get back!" you shouted backwards, pushing against the fungus that was trying to attack you. Its arm swiped at yours and caught skin, making you shout in pain. You pushed the machete deeper into it, the monster's force pushing you both back into the greenery. It was getting incredibly close, the smell of it invading your senses at an unpleasant rate, its jaw snapping at the air.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

But in the flash of an eye, the pressure was gone. The smell was gone, the creature was gone. Joel had grabbed the thing and pushed it into the open, where Ellie quickly shot it, making the dead drop to the ground once more.

Luck must have pitied you because no other shrieks followed it, meaning that there was only one around, for now at least.

"Holy shit, that was a close one." Ellie said, eyes wide. Joel rushed into the clearing, checking to make sure that there wouldn't be another one any time soon. Once he came back, he rushed over to you, looking you over for bite marks.

"I didn't get bit, Joel. Close to it though." You shook him off, bringing your injured arm up to your middle.

He heaved with what you first thought was adrenaline, but soon realized was anger. "What were you thinking?" He spit out, venom lacing his words.

Like you said earlier, you were getting tired of this. You had had enough. "What was I thinking?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "What were you thinking?" Your eyes shot daggers into his, ready for the metaphorical kettle to finally tip over. "This was not my fault! Shit, what is wrong with you?" You stepped closer to him, sizing him up. "If anything, you alarmed it of our presence, and jesus christ not everything is on me." Shoving past him into the open area, you clenched your jaw in anger. After all of that, he had the nerve--

"I'm not saying it is, but goddamnit if you had just waited to pull that giant ass knife out, we would've--" Another scoff cut him off.

"You find something every fucking time something goes wrong to pin on me, and frankly it's getting annoying. I've stood there and took it, but shit Joel, ever since Tess, you've had a stick so far up your ass that I could practically see it when you talked."

He shot a glare at you, and the ice in which he spoke with would remain with you for longer than you would like to admit. "You don't get to bring up Tess."

"Yes, I do! We should all be able to--just because you don't know how to grieve doesn't mean that we can't either." Clenching your good fist, you knew that you may have overstepped a line, but damn it he did not have to treat you two like this.

"You ain't have a single idea what I've grieved. I've--" he stopped short, his voice breaking ever so slightly. His teeth grit, jaw moving alongside it, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, one filled with the weight of the people he's lost, and eventually he looked at you with a gaze slightly softer, which you were oddly suspicious of.

"Listen, I know that I've been a little...rougher since Tess."

Ellie chuckled a good distance behind him. "That's putting it vaguely."

"I just, fuck." He mumbles to himself, looking at his feet.

"What, Joel? I'm not going to deal with this if it continues, I'm not doing that to myself."

"Fucking hell, I care about you, okay?" His voice slightly raised, and the way his irises met yours, well it took your breath away. He was staring at you with a gleam in his eye that you've almost never seen--vulnerability. "I know I'm harsh sometimes, but goddammit I..." His eyes close, and you see his chest rise and lower. "...I don't know."

"That doesn't excuse your actions though. I care about you too, the both of you, but you don't see--" You voice fades as he starts pacing the area, mumbling to himself. You raise an eyebrow at him, looking to Ellie who shrugs in response. He's never acted like this before, and your gut drops at why he could be this vulnerable right now.

And then it hits you.

Only momentarily, but you need to ask right now or you won't be able to again. Maybe you were overthinking it, but there was only one reason why he could be acting so strange.

You hold your breath as you say it.

"Are you infected?"

That makes him stop in his tracks, hearing what you just said. Striding over to you, he shakes his head. "No, I ain't infected, I'm just not good at this."

Your shoulders slack in relief, your heart able to return to a semi-normal beat. Yeah, you two butted heads a good amount of the time, but he was the closest person in decades that you would admit you trusted.

He's still looking at the ground, so you decide to take a different approach now that the frightful question is out of the way.

"Good at what? Honey, you're scaring me." You speak gentler, tilting your head to try to meet his eyes. You've never called him an endearment before, much less honey, and you try to ignore the flutters in your chest that erupt at doing so. "You can talk to me, I'm here for you. Hell, we've known each other for how long now? I won't judge you." He had always been closed off, ever since you arrived to the QZ, but that seemed to catch his attention because he flicked his eyes to your injured arm briefly before meeting your gaze.

"Tess told me that I need to tell you eventually, and I just worry about you a lot, and I--" He placed a hand over your wound, studying it. "I care about you care about you, more than you know, and I'll work on the anger issues, I just worry about you, way more than I should."

And though you could read between the lines at what he was saying, you cupped his chin and asked anyways. Maybe it was a part of you being a little selfish, but you had just nearly been put into cardio arrest at thinking he might be infected, so you asked anyway.

"Are you saying you fancy me, Miller?"

He chuckled at that, rolling his eyes in amusement. "If you want to put it that way, then yes...I fancy you. I know you're a little younger than me, and that you already probably have someone waiting back at the QZ, but you're just-" he gulped. "-real important to me is all."

You smiled, leaning in a little closer to him. "Hey, it doesn't matter that you're a little older, and you of all people know damn well that I only had you, Tess, and a couple others back there. My heart has always been yours."

It looked like a weight had been physically lifted off of his shoulders too at your response, and you saw the ghost of a smile grace his features. He leaned in close, closer than he had ever done before, and his voice sounded like sweet whiskey, the good kind served pre-outbreak.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask."

And when his mouth met yours, it was like a piece of you that had been missing was found. Like a flower had been waiting for the right moment to bloom. It was a little messy, but that was alright given that it had been a while since either of you had probably done this.

A cough snapped you both out of the trance you were in. "Okay, lovebirds, I'm happy that you two are getting along again and all but can this--" she waved her knife in between you two from where she stood against the doorframe by the exit, a look of disgust on her face. "Wait until after we're all out of here? This place gives me the creeps."

A small laugh left you and him, and you broke apart. "She's right, we'd better get moving before anything else that may be in here finds us."

He had a smirk on his face, another look you hadn't really seen before. "Lead the way honey'"

Oh, you could get used to this.

#joel miller #the last of us #the last of us show #the last of us hbo #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x reader #joel miller x #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us part one #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou spoilers #tlou show

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Puck Yourself

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been a hot second since I've published anything but I've had this completed in my drafts for a few weeks now. I was planning on trying to get multiple parts to this all out at once but I've had a lot of essays due recently and continue to have quite a few due so oh well. Gotta prioritize school over this. But this AU is based off of the Lucky Charms series by drabblewithfrannybarnes. I love that series so much it's honestly one of my comfort ones I go back to a lot so yeah. Here's my own kinda take on what I think a similar college hockey AU would look like with Ari, throwing in the wild card of being Bucky Barnes' younger sister. Pairing: College Hockey!Ari Levinson x College Hockey!Bucky Barnes Younger Sister F!Reader Word count: 6,180 words Wanings: Swearing, strong moments of angers, mentions of sex

Summary: Meeting the stereotypical player, hockey boy Ari was exactly what you expected. Until you actually talk and realize he might not be all that bad. The problem is, Bucky things otherwise.

Bucky had finally convinced you to come up and see him.

It had taken well over a year, multiple breaks, and a hell of a lot of conniving on his part to finally get you to visit him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see your brother, or his school, you just didn’t really want to stay at a house full of college hockey boys. It sounded like a complete nightmare, and as you sat in your car mentally preparing to deal with it, you seriously questioned why you had agreed to this.

But your protective, occasional pain in your ass, best friend of a brother Bucky had an air mattress set up for your for two days, had agreed to pay for gas and food, and had solemnly swore to your parents to look out for you at all times. It was pretty believable, especially considering his physical size and demeanor.

As you parked your car in front of the house that still had red solo cups littered out front, a random hole in the yard, and just screamed “testosterone” at the top of it’s lungs you seriously began to reconsider everything. Right now, you could have been in your apartment in the city with your friends and roommates planning on a night out while you were on break. But instead, you were about to enter the only thing worst than a frat house: a college hockey teams house.

“Y/N/N!” You heard a shout as you opened the trunk of your car. You looked over to see your brother standing on the porch, with a smile, beginning to jog towards you. As soon as he reached you he engulfed you in a big hug that made you feel as if you were being swallowed whole.

“Hey Buck,” You replied, hugging him back. “Missed me?”“You know it,” He smiled back, going ahead to grab your bag from the car. You only had your backpack hanging off one shoulder, Bucky carrying the rest. He made it look so easy, like the suitcase was a small bag of groceries.

As you entered the house, the same aroma of every party you had been to flooded your nose. Except no one was actually here. You gave Bucky a look which he quickly read as disgust of sorts, “I promise I cleaned my room.”“Uh huh,” You replied looking around the place. There was no particular order to the couches, and literally no other furniture other than the four of them. The leather was worn and you were sure sticky by now. The floor managed also to be sticky, not shocking given who lived here. There were a couple framed photos on the wall of teams both present and past but that was about it.

“I promise, the actual living room for us is upstairs,” He told you, leading you that way. “The downstairs is really just for parties.”“I could tell, Buck.” You replied, crossing your arms as you began walking up the large stairs. “Why did I even agree to come here?” You questioned out loud. You knew Bucky rolled his eyes even though you were behind him.

“Because you love me oh so dearly,” He stated, you scoffed. “But seriously, I’ve visited your school like five times and you’re only a second year. You’ve been here once.”“Okay, well I live closer to home, in a city with stuff to do, and you were with mom and dad.”“There’s plenty of stuff to do here,” He argued back, fumbling with the key in his hand to open the door to his room.

“Mhm, like stare at the corn fields.” Now he actually rolled his eyes and you saw it. “And I’ve been here more than once! For all your championship games last year, and the year before.”“Those don’t count,” He explained, entering his room as you followed behind him. “School wasn’t happening.”“Okay, whatever.” You sighed, sitting down on his bed and placing your backpack on the floor. He hadn’t lied, he had actually cleaned his room. It did smelled like a can of Febreeze had been violated and died in there, but it was much better than downstairs. A subtle knock came ringing at his door. “Hey Sam!” You smiled up at him as he walked in, giving you a big smile back.

“There’s my favorite sibling of any player.” He said. You stood up, allowing him to give you a hug as well. “How’re you? How was the drive?”“Fine and fine.” You replied, sitting back on the bed as Bucky began making room in his closet for your stuff.

“Ya know, you’re a real trooper for staying here.” Sam pointed out, leaning against one of Bucky’s wall. You both looked at him, as he now stood with a large shrug.

“See, I told you!” You said to Bucky, “Be grateful.”“I was grateful you’re here, but I’m becoming less by the second.” He said eyeing you. You scoffed.

“If you ever need a break, you know where my room is-“ Sam began but Bucky was quick to interrupt him.

“No, there will never be a moment in time where Y/N is in your room with you alone, or anyone else’s for that matter.” Bucky stated pointing firmly at Sam. “I already went over this with everyone.”“Hey, out of every other guy in this house need I remind you I’m the most trustworthy with your younger sister?” Sam replied, with his hands up in a sort of surrender offering.

“Yeah, but still.” Bucky said, going back to clearing out part of his closet. “If Rogers were here he would be the most trustworthy.”

You missed Steve, but he was away visiting family this weekend. Besides, he had been a second brother to you your whole life, so it wasn’t as if you wouldn’t see him again. As soon as Christmas break rolled around he would be at your family’s house for a day or two to celebrate.“Damn, might as well rub salt in that wound.” Sam sighed, “Anyways, let me know if any of the guys here try to play any games.” Sam said, now looking at you. His hands were on his hips, his face now straight and serious. You nodded.

“Now you’re on my side for once?” Bucky fired at Sam.

“When it comes to your younger sister in a house full of guys that are borderline animals around any attractive girl? Yes.” Sam replied confidently. “All I’m saying is you only have so much power here, Barnes. You’re up against guys the same size and mindset as you. You’re gonna need as much backup as you can get with this one.”

So far all the guys here had been overwhelming nice. Maybe the dual threat of Bucky and Sam scared them off of you, but a part of you at least hoped they were just this naturally respectful to women (somehow, though, you did doubt that hopefulness). They wanted to talk to you about your school, what you were studying, how it was growing up with Bucky.

“So you’re the brains, huh?” One of the guys asked, leaning against the counter practically chugging a Gatorade bottle of water down.

“I guess,” You shrugged with a smile.

“That was how we grew up,” Bucky was quick to interject, finishing up one of his assignments at the counter. “She was always the smart one, I was the sporty one.”

You actually secretly praised your parents for raising you that way so there really was no competition for who was better. Each of you were good at your own things, and helped each other with the other. You always helped Bucky with homework (and still did), while Bucky helped you train to pass the one basic P.E. test you had to take.

You were munching on a bowl of chips some of the guys had set out for you, continuing to talk when the back door opened. “You comes back for once without a girl, huh?” Sam questioned from where he stood next to you.

It was pretty hard to ignore the absolute unit that walked in the door. He was a tank of a person, in the best way possible. Incredibly muscular, tall. At least 6’6, maybe closer to 6’7. His presence towered over the room of hockey boys, which was something you never knew could happen. His auburn brown hair was slicked back, the ends falling just under his ears. A beard covered his jawline, one which you imagined was incredibly defined and sculpted to perfection.

He set down his backpack which looked regular sized for him, but comically large on the floor. He turned to Sam, and in turn his eyes quickly met yours. They were a crystal blue, a color so prominent you figured his eyes must have been bleach white underneath to let such a color be seen. “Who’s this?” He asked, pointing to you and looking back to Sam. His face seemed a bit confused out of everything, with a hint of being pleasantly surprised.

“Y/N,” Sam commented, popping a chip in his mouth with a quick crunch and swallow. “Bucky’s sister. Younger sister.” he clarified.

“Ah,” He replied, approaching you with a smile that could make a line of 100 women pass out. “Name’s Ari. Ari Levinson.” He said, sticking his hand out. You took it and gave it a shake, one that you could tell dwarfed his typical shake but he went with it.

You had heard about Ari Levinson. Plenty of times from following a couple of the guys’ Instagrams and the hockey teams official one. He was a third year, like your brother. He was a star of sorts on the team, had already been picked up by a NHL team the year prior. But from what Bucky had mentioned, his parents had convinced him to stay the full four years to get his degree. And with good enough lawyers, they had convinced whatever team he was heading to to let him finish out his school and immediately hop into the sport professionally after he had a degree with his name on it.

“Y/N,” You replied. “Barnes, if that wasn’t already implied.” He gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I could tell.” He told you, leaning against the counter on the other side. “You two look a lot alike.”“Yeah, we got that all the time as kids.” You told him.

“I bet,” He said, his eyes trailing you up and down more slowly than what you felt was typical friendliness. You suddenly became a bit conscious at the leggings you were wearing and the fact his eyes had lingered a tad bit longer on your thighs. “The black hair suits you better though, especially for those beautiful eyes. Never seen ones like ‘em.”“Levinson really-“ Sam began but you interjected.

“I bet that’s what you tell all your girls, huh?” You replied with a smirk. The group of guys still sitting at the counter choked on their drinks as their eyes widened. You could feel Sam smiling from next to you.

“Haha, very funny.” Ari replied, a bit more stern this time. “It has a 100% pass rate though.”“Change it to 99,” You shot back, “Welcome to the bottom 1%.” This again resulted in dead silence around the room. Ari gave you a smile.

“I’ll get to you eventually, beautiful.” He said, standing back up fully.

“Gonna have to get through Bucky to do that.” You replied.

“Is that a challenge?” Ari smirked down at you, biting his bottom lip. “I love a good challenge, sweetheart.”

“More of a factual statement,” You said, leaning on the counter towards him. “I would say more an impossibility.”“We’ll see about that,” Ari said, grabbing his bag of the floor and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.” He added with a smile and wink before he departed down the hall and towards the stairs.

“Is he always like that?” You turned to Sam with a look of slight disgust. But Sam looked a little more worried than that.

“Kinda,” He replied, “Just not that persistent.”

“Oh?”“Means he actually wants to get to you,” Sam explained, “We won’t let him. But don’t tell Bucky, yet at least. Not sure Ari’s ego can protect him from your brother’s fist.”

You had actually frequented parties back at your last school. So standing here now on a Friday night with a red solo cup in your hand filled with mystery seltzer didn’t feel all that foreign. The only difference this time, however, was that you didn’t have your traditional friend group surrounding you. Instead you were talking to the occasional one or two guys on the team who would inevitably find a girl to their liking to go and coerce into their bed. Then when they left and you got bored of standing in the corner alone, you would go and bother Bucky who was going between working behind the bar and talking to his girlfriend, Natasha. If Bucky was too busy you went and talked to Nat and her friends, who were incredibly sweet and gracious with you even though you constantly felt like an intrusion.

“You need something?” Your brother asked, craning his neck back to see you. His front was facing a line of girls waiting for their fixing of cheap beer he was pouring into cups. You shook your head. “Bored again?” You nodded. “Why don’t you go talk to Nat? She loves talking to you.” You rolled your eyes.

“I feel like an intrusion, Bucky.” You replied, now standing next to him and taking a sip of your drink. “Like I know her friends are only a year older than me but it feels different.” Bucky huffed, handing the girl in front of him another drink.

“You can always head up to my room if you want.” You nodded hoping that was the answer he would give.

He quickly dug in his back jean pockets for his keys, fishing them out and handing them to you. “Just lock the door behind you, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “And I’ll text you when I’m on my way up. Don’t answer the door for anyone that knocks.” You nodded again, thanking him and making your way back through the crowded bodies tucked shoulder to shoulder with one another.

Thankfully the guy guarding the stairs recognized you as you held up Bucky’s key. He smiled with a nod, letting you by and away from the extremely crowded dance floor and blaring music.

As you walked down the hall you could hear laughter from a few of the rooms, and most definitely fucking from others. You rounded the corner to where Bucky’s room was, stopping at the end where his room stood and placing the key in the fob. As you twisted it to the side, you couldn’t help but to overhear another door down the hall opening. You looked up briefly, to see Ari standing there arms crossed as he leant on the trim of the door.

A drop dead gorgeous brunette girl walked out. She looked young, easily a freshman. You questioned if she was even that or maybe a senior in high school with a repeated excuse as to why she didn’t have a student card of valid ID with date of birth, but insisting she was 18. She was slim, a size four around the waist on a bloated day for her. She managed to have great boobs, and beautiful long hair. She could’ve been mistaken for a model for all you knew.

He gave her a signature smile, she asked him if he would call her.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He said but you could hear the emptiness in that from a mile away.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and ran off down the stairs, her hair slightly frizzy and makeup now ever so smudged. You sighed to yourself. How nice it must be to casually get guys like that and have the nativity to not know A. He would never call you back and B. He would pretend he had never met you even if you saw him again. Your attachment issues could never.

You pushed the door open, stepping one foot in when your name was called. “Y/N, right?” You heard someone approaching. You looked up to see Ari standing maybe four feet away. You nodded. “What’re you doing up here, all alone?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Bored.”“There’s a party going on downstairs, you know that right?” He asked with a smile and light laugh. You nodded.

“Parties aren’t fun unless your at least three shots in and surrounded by people you actually know, and like.” You replied, “I am in none of those situations right now.” He gave a tight smile and nod. “You seem to be having fun.” You motioned back down the hall to his door. He let out a hearty laugh.

“Wanna take some guesses?” He asked, taking a few steps closer to you so now you were within a foot of each other. He towered over you, arms crossed leaning against the wall.

“Not really, no.” You said in all honestly. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I mean, I don’t really do that stuff. I wouldn’t really have a clue.”“What, like sex?”“Yeah, and in turn hookups.” You replied. You were giving away way too much information right now. You blamed it on the few drinks in your system.

“You’re too pretty to have not had sex yet.” You scoffed.

“Please,” You nearly laughed, “I’m a six on a good day and I’ve come to terms with that. You just got with an eleven on a bad day. Don’t talk to me about that.” You replied, having had enough of this conversation and heading into Bucky’s room, before you could fully close the door though his hand was on it.

“Were you an ugly kid?” He asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth a face of regret took over.“What the fuck did you just ask me?” You looked at him confused as hell, hand still on the door and moving to slam it. He held that attempt back to.

“No I mean- shit, not like that.” He pleaded, one foot in the one the other out to prevent any other tries at closing the door. You rolled your eyes at him. “I mean- I was one. And it took me a while to realize that I got better looking as I got older, and now I can sleep with gorgeous women and feel like an equal to them.”

You looked at him with complete and utter disbelief. There was no way this Greek God of a man was seriously telling you how it feels to be attractive enough to sleep with whoever you want. Especially considering your struggle to find a halfway decent guy to call your first boyfriend, and your virginity that was still hidden deep somewhere in you. “Alright, nice talk, champ. That’s enough for tonight.” You said trying to close the door but his body blocking it. “If you don’t move I’m going to yell bloody murder.”“Uh huh, I would like to see that.”“You really want Bucky and Sam to come up and deal with you?” You asked, this time with a dead serious tone and expression. “Oh, and Steve when he gets back.” Ari took a long, hard look at you before backing away.

“Okay, fine. I was trying to start a conversation and fucked up. I’m sorry for implying you were an ugly kid.” He said with a sigh, standing outside the door still.

You had every right to slam it in his face, in fact you thought you should’ve. But he did seem genuinely apologetic, and for a guy that seemed as douchey as him, you assumed that took a lot of effort.

“Fine, I forgive you.” You replied.

“Thank you,” He said back, leaning on the doorway again. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do anything given your- situation.”“Watch it.” You wanted, motioning to the door as you silently implied your ability to slam it right in his face at any given moment. “But, would you like to chill out with me?” He asked, “Someone’s gonna come knocking on Barnes door soon enough begging to fuck in there and I don’t want you to have to fend for yourself in that situation.” He explained, “I’ll strip my sheets now, I have a chair you can sit on and a TV in there. We can just listen to music, chill. I don’t care if you want to sit on your phone the whole time and ignore me. Hell, I’ll give you a charger. But you are a teammates sibling, and I want to know you’re okay.”

So Ari Levinson now cared about you? The same dude you flirted in front of the majority of the team today, who just walked out with a model-level girl he would never talk to again? And he was worried about you right now, and seemed at least halfway genuine? You sighed.

“Fine,” You said, closing the door behind you and re-locking it. “But no funny business.”“None,” He swore, giving you firm eye contact. “I swear.”“Good,” You nodded at him, “And I will not be sitting on your bed regardless of the sheet situation.”“Aw honey, it wasn’t like I actually fucked her.” He explained, “She just sucked me off.” You gave a fake gagging sound.

“I think I would rather jump off the balcony here than get on my knees for you.” You replied. He gave you a smile.

“Eh, you would be surprised.”

Ari was shockingly… normal. He was actually just a chill guy with good music taste. That shocked you the most. He admitted a lot of his playlist was filled with modern rap because that’s what a lot of the guys listened to but he preferred 80s and 90s rock and alternative. It was what he had grown up listening to with his parents and something you quickly bonded over.

You had begun to talk a bit about relationships. He had opened up with how he had broken up with his long term girlfriend six months prior and was still reeling from a chunk of the effect and realizing how surface level the entire relationship felt. He also added how hook ups were easier. No commitment, he could focus on hockey and school.

“What about you?” He asked, “What lucky guys have been with you?” You scoffed.

“I’ve talked to a couple guys,” You explained, “But nothing really serious. I got my first kiss, date, all that stuff out of the way senior year of high school before college. First going beyond first base in freshman year. Talked to a guy long term last semester but it didn’t really work. I’m just kinda waiting for the right person but I also know I’m too ambitious for my own good when it comes to relationships.”“Oh, how so?” He asked, leaning on his bed as you sat in his swivel chair by his desk.

“I just- I focus so much on school and extracurriculars that I don’t really have time for a boyfriend. I want one, but I also am not great at talking to guys either. Flirting is my worst enemy.” You said, “My last kiss was over a year ago.” He nodded slightly, almost in a sympathetic way.

“I don’t think you’re the problem.” He mentioned next, looking over at where you sat. “I mean, you really are stunning. You’re incredibly smart. Bucky always tells us how much of a hard worker you are, and how you go out and are a social butterfly. Just- at our age, not many guys are looking for commitment. And it sucks for girls like you but give it a few years.” You groaned, throwing your head back.

“Everyone says that and I’m so sick of it.” You told him, “But then I look at Bucky, and he and Nat have been going strong for over a year now.”

“Bucky is also a really special guy,” Ari mentioned, “Listen, he and I aren’t all that close but everyone on the team is close to an extent. We travel together, play together, practice together, get meals together- hell we live together. And he really is a great guy. You’re very lucky to have him as a brother.”“I know,” You replied with a tight smile, “He’s one of my best friends and I’m very grateful to have someone like that who’s just built in to my life.”

“He really looks up to you, ya know.” Ari said, smiling at you. “Even though you’re younger he’s always bragging about your accomplishments and how smart you are. I mean, you are going to an amazing school. I remember when you got in he was practically jumping up and down and telling everyone.” You smiled to yourself knowing that you reacted the same way when he got into his dream school for hockey. “You’re really special, Y/N. And don’t ever let a guy, especially one like me, take that from you or tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks Ari.” You replied, smiling up at him. “You know you’re not as tough as you seem. You should let some more people see it sometimes.”“I only let people I really, really like past that part of me.” He said, “There aren’t many.”

Just as he finished saying that a string of absolute banging punches came at the door. “Shit.” He murmured, getting up.

You backed away on the chair as Ari opened up the door to reveal a seething and red Bucky. “Why the fuck is she in here?” He demanded, pushing Ari back. Despite Ari having at least a couple inches on Bucky, he nearly fell back onto his bed having to catch himself in midair.

“Barnes we didn’t do anything-““Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, Sam now rushing into the room. He tried to grab Bucky by the arms but was thrown off with ease and went tumbling back almost falling into the door.

Bucky through all his rage and might managed to get Ari pinned up against the nearest wall, his hands in fists around the collar of his shirt. “If you fucking touched her-“You had had enough of his behavior, getting up and marching over to stand right behind him. “Bucky, he didn’t dot anything. We didn’t do anything.” You clarified. Bucky looked back at you, face scrunched in pure anger, loosening his grip only a bit on Ari. “I swear, you know I wouldn’t do anything. I haven’t. Let alone with one of your teammates.”

It took Bucky a second to realize what you were saying, but as soon as he did he let go of Ari. “Look at her again, and you’re dead.” He said, firmly pointing to Ari who was still against the wall with his finger in his face. Ari couldn’t even respond before Bucky was dragging you out by your upper arm and back to his room.

You had gotten a very stern talking to that night about the dangers of Ari. Bucky was still fuming, but at least he had kept his voice down to a not-yelling level. It didn’t help all that much that you were fighting back some, because at this point you were arguing to a brick wall. But at least you were able to clarify that nothing had actually happened, and Bucky seemed to believe you. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to keep Ari as far away from you as possible.

It was their Saturday game where you found yourself sitting next to Nat in this cold arena. You had learned over the many years of attending Bucky’s hockey games how to layer and do it properly. Leggings were always a go-to, with a team t-shirt as well. Bucky had let you borrow a quarter-zip he had from last year with your last name embroidered into the top left corner. It’s size made it incredibly cozy and warm, especially right now. Nat was in his jersey, and had every right to be. Wearing a guy’s jersey was girlfriend code, not younger sister code.

The two of you were watching them practice a bit before the game. Bucky would give you two the occasional smile, you would do it back. What you didn’t expect, however, were the occasional but very prominent glances over at you by Ari.

“So, you and Levinson?” Nat asked from next to you. Her tone of voice indicated her genuine curiosity, non-judgmental, and ‘I won’t tell Bucky’ attitude of girl code. But your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they gave a roll. “Oh c’mon, there’s at least chemistry there.”“Uh huh,” You sarcastically replied, still watching Bucky glide across the ice. All these guys made it look too damn easy. “There’s nothing between Ari and I, really.”“You do know everyone heard about Buck’s little show down with him, over you, right?” She asked next. You groaned in frustration.

“It wasn’t even that!” You fired back, “I literally hung out with him for like an hour or two. That was it. Nothing else. I’m a virgin, Nat, you know that. I’m not going to just give that away to a guy like Ari.” You replied. She gave a tight smile in defeat.

“All I was going to say is Ari really isn’t that bad.” She replied. You looked over at her with a face scrunched in confusion. “He had a long term girlfriend. Like a solid two years. Treated her like a princess, really. Paid for everything, showed her off at every game like she was the trophy. Hell, he even posted her on his Instagram. An Instagram that has been a valley on emptiness since high school.” She crossed her arms, her own eyes now looking at them. “Listen, don’t tell Bucky I said this, ever, but if he offers you his number or anything… I would take it.”

You didn’t have long to think about what she had just said when the buzzer went off announcing the game had started. All the guys went back to their bench, taking their respective spots and fumbling with their mouth guards. You gave a deep sigh.

The game started and was going well in their favor. This was by no means shocking, this lineup happened to be one of the best teams in the country this year at the college level. You watched Bucky strategically on defense, a perfect fit for him. He always knew when he needed to get aggressive and not, a strength not many of these guys had at quite the same level he did. You and Nat gave each other a high five and a cheer every time he successful blocked an opposing member from even getting close to their goalie, or when he flawlessly recovered a failed attempt at a shot back to an offensive player.

When the final buzzer rang, the boys were up by four points. The all gave each other small hugs on the ice, walking off a moment later with smiles and walking back to the locker room. You and Nat walked over to their side of the ice, patiently waiting a good distance down from the locker room. This allowed for crew to come in and out and start cleaning up after the game with the already crowded hallway.

It took 20 or so minutes for Bucky to come out first with Sam by his side. You gave them both big smiles as they came up to you and hugged you. “Thanks for coming out, Little Barnes.” Sam said, letting you go from a powerful hug.

“No problem,” You smiled up at him, “I love watching you guys play. It’s very fun to see men want to shove each other with some class over a rubber puck.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You did great.” Nat smiled, leaning onto Bucky’s arm as he gave her a kiss on the top of the head.

“You ready to head out?” Sam turned to Bucky and asked him. He nodded. “Wanna come with?” He turned back to you. Before you could even respond, Bucky was speaking.“She’s coming,” He said matter-of-factly. “And don’t even try and worry about getting in underage, we know everyone there. It won’t be a problem.”

“Are you actually gonna let me drink?” Was your next question.

“Don’t act like you don’t do it every weekend,” He replied, starting his walk towards the door with Nat under his arm. “I see your Instagram stories.”

You rolled your eyes and followed right behind, Sam next to you. “Can I use the bathroom real quick?” You asked, all of them nodded.

“We’ll meet you at the car, you know where it is right?” Sam asked and you nodded, jogging off to the side area where the bathrooms were.

As you walked back out, still shaking your hands a little to let them air dry more, you looked over to see Ari standing about fifteen feet down, surrounded by a group of three girls nonetheless. He had that signature smirk on his face that would make any girl really believe he was falling in love with them when all he wanted was a solid fuck and a quick goodbye.

All three of them giggled in sync at whatever he was saying, one of them getting closer to him every couple of seconds. He was just a woman magnet, and while you didn’t blame any of those girls for finding him attractive, their desperation was a bit embarrassing.

You chose not to think much of it, walking off and towards the front door of the arena to walk out and find Sam’s truck. Just before you approached the door, you heard someone call your name. You knew better than to turn around, but your instinct kicked in without any thought. And there stood Ari Levinson.

“Hey,” He said, standing there for a moment as if you were going to continue a conversation you hadn’t even started, “Uh, thanks for coming out.”“I was here for Bucky.” You quickly replied, pointing to the last name on your sweater.

“Well, I mean- yeah I knew that-““It’s what you tell every girl that comes to these games, right?” You said with a tight smile, “I saw you talking to your groupies back there.” He took a sigh to himself, looking down at the floor for a moment with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair fell a bit beyond his ears and over his forehead, him having to push it back as soon as he looked at you again.

“I really hate how you read me like an open book.”“I’m an English major, what can I say.” You immediately replied, letting him have a quick second to respond, and a quick second he left empty. You started to walk towards the door. “I gotta go, Buck’s waiting for me-“

“Can I get your number?” He asked next. You turned around to face him again with a confused look on your face. “Please?” You sighed out loud.

“For what exactly?” You asked. “I have nothing you want. I’m not going to have sex with you, or suck your dick for that matter.”“I don’t want you for sex and you know that.” He semi-aggressively stated, “I just- need someone to talk to sometimes. And you seem to be really good at listening and advice and all that stuff.”“Really?” You asked, even more confused than before. He nodded. “I’m not a therapist Ari.” He groaned out loud, letting his head fall back in frustration.

“I know just-“ He started, now approaching you and leaning down to whisper something. “Listen, I like you. More than other girls. I want to get your number to know you better, ya know, talk?”

“Could you say it louder for the people in back?” You smiled at him as he let out a very hearty sigh. “Fine, I give up-““Just give me your phone.” You said, sticking your hand out. He gave you a look of slight disbelief. “I will give you my number.” He quickly dug the device out of his sweatpants pocket and handed it over. As soon as you typed it in, you handed it back.

“When do you leave?”“Tomorrow.”“Of course.” He sighed, pocketing his phone again. “You got any time to see me?”“What? For a date?”“Yeah, exactly that.” He replied, “We can do what you want. Coffee, lunch, I don’t care.” “A coffee is fine.” You said back, “I’m leaving at 10. Meet me at 10:30 somewhere?”“I’ll text you the details.”

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #ari levinson #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you

[vinxhwrites]

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

[penname-artist]

Merry Chrysler-

I MEANT TO POST THESE CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS A YEAR AGO

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE THEN

I'M SORRY CHILDREN YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CANDY NOW

I swear I am totally not biased when I say that I'll side with Shu's headcanon of Lightning being very into singing and then getting caught doing so and being good at doing so while putting up Christmas decorations. Okay. Maybe a LITTLE bit biased.

But I am NOT biased when I say that he and Mater BOTH do it and they have a habit of starting a lyric and waiting for the other to give them the next one so they can duet the rest. It's adorable, but it drives the town crazy just as much.

Red always puts something happy and festive on the old Stanley statue. Some years it's a wreath. Some years he has a red glowing nose. Sometimes he gets little antlers. It's a nice nod to his love for the holidays, and it makes Lizzie so happy.

Finn and Leland used to play that silly Hide the Pickle game on Christmas morning, except with very ramped up stakes because they loved a challenge. Since his passing, Finn's now dangerously taught both Mater and Holley to play. Mater tries his best, though he's not great at hiding them and he's lucky at best with finding, and Holley, well...let's just say that she did such a good job her first time trying to hide it that they all gave up looking, and ended up having to buy another one to use.

Every year, Dusty goes out and puts up tacky Christmas lights for the year. And every year, he and Chug get tangled in it. And every year until 2013, Dottie was tasked with helping them out. Since 2013, every year she puts it up to Skipper and Sparky to do instead. Never fails.

You ever heard of something called a "Drive thru nativity scene"? I've been to one, once. You sit in your car and drive through a live reenactment of the towns and the nativity, and you pay fake coin taxes at certain stops, and dad almost got put in fake jail by Roman soldiers because he wouldn't pay those taxes anyways the point is they have one that they do at Radiator Springs now and over the years they have garnered a lot of traffic. Sally and Lightning only did the Mary and Joseph bit one year, and it ended in Joseph being run over by fans and backing up the line, so he lent his role to someone else (it changes every year)

During his reign over the Lodge, Cad Spinner went above and beyond for Christmas light displays during the holidays, which ate up the electric bill for one and left a fire hazard for another. When Jammer took over his position, though, the annual display had become wildly popular, so - with the assistance and better pay of the Piston Peak fire and rescue - they kept the event running. So long as Ryker stayed close by.

The Smokejumpers pulled an Epic Christmas Prank on - or rather with - Cabbie one year. He had no idea what everyone was giggling about, as they boarded up to drop over a fire. And then later, Maru held up a photo he got of him while he was taking off with them. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the bright red "ELF BACKUP" sign written across his hatch.

Blade's not really a Christmas guy, but, there's one thing he enjoys during the Christmas season, and that's peppermints. He's fucking addicted. Maru will catch him swiping them from the little bowl Patch puts out in the mess hall, and they go through a whole bag in less than two weeks. Addicted I tell you.

Specifically in humanized land, Cabbie has whittled - while Windlifter paints - simplified wooden nutcracker statues, reflecting the features of each of the Smokejumpers. There's five on the mantle in the mess hall for them, and another shelf that holds a handful more for the jumpers past.

#pixar cars #world of cars #disney planes #Disney Cars #disneyplanes #planes fire and rescue #disney planes 2 #dusty crophopper #blade ranger #cabbie #windlifter #cabbie mchale #lightning #lightning mcqueen #tow mater #finn mcmissile #finn and leland #leland turbo #holley shiftwell #MMM NAMES

[bqstqnbruin]

See You Again

I'm actually posting a fic for the first time in seven months aka the first fic I've finished in seven months peace love teaching

anyway, I wrote this for the lovely @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange! I got to write for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten but I've never written for Nico before, so I hope you like this (I was fully inspired by my own mess of a life)

Edit since I’m a dumbass thank you to @kat-hearts for reading this first and being amazing ily 😭

One of the characters, Nat is nonbinary, and I did my best to make the reader gender netural, which I haven't done before on either account, so I hope I did it justice (if something is glaringly wrong, please let me know!)

Warnings: I was mean with the ending? A little? Also, some swearing, drinking, almost physical fighting

Word Count: almost 2.8k

_______________________________________

“When was the last time you saw him?”

You tried to shift through your memory to figure that out. In person, the last time was sometime in the first week of December about two years ago. Thinking about him, which thankfully didn’t count, would involve you giving a much more recent answer, way more recent than you would really like to admit. “I don’t remember.” 

“Well,” your roommate Nat says, looking down at their phone. “I have bad news.”

“Fucking hell,” you moan, tilting your head to hit the back of the seat of the Uber. You knew what they were going to say before the words even started to come out of their mouth.

“Nico is going to be there tonight. With all the guys.” You let out another groan, the Uber driver giving you a scowl through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry! Jack didn’t know he was coming, or he would have told us way before we got ready.” 

You stare out the window, trying to think of all the ways that you could get out of this situation. You already paid for the Uber and didn’t want to pay for another one. You weren’t about to go somewhere by yourself, especially since the bar you were heading towards wasn’t within a reasonable walking distance if you were to go somewhere by yourself, and no way was Nat going to leave with you without Jack, and Jack, of course, wasn't going to leave without his teammates. 

“We can go back right now and I’ll tell Jack to have fun with his team instead,” Nat tells you as if they could read your mind. They put their hand over yours, trying to give you any sense of calm that was setting into your panic. “We do not have to be around Nico.” 

“What kind of person tells someone they like them but not enough to date them?” you mutter, knowing you and Nat have had this conversation many times on your kitchen floor, drunk and crying together at 2 in the morning. They had introduced you to Nico one night after a game when the team went out to celebrate. They had been dating Jack for about a year at that point, meeting him through his brother at Michigan and reconnecting when they both realized they were going to be in New Jersey together. Quinn had used the reasoning of, “he won’t know anyone in the state,” only for everyone to realize later that he knew Jack had been smitten with Nat since they met. If only you had been so lucky. 

You had known of Nico, obviously. How could you not? He was the captain of the Devils, the team you grew up surrounded by, the number one draft pick in the sport your roommate never shut up about. He covered your social media feeds without you really wanting them to and everyone you knew talked about what a great game he had the night before. You couldn’t escape the idea of him, no matter where you went. 

When you met him that night a few years back, there was something about him in person that you were drawn to. He had been just an idea to you, not someone you could think about as being real. You spent that entire night with him, your friends either wandering off or you too enthralled with Nico to notice that they were there. Nat and Jack were heading back to your place before last call, and you were left knowing that you had to see Nico again.  

He asked if he could kiss you, making you melt as his hand gently snaked its way to your cheek, pulling you close when you said yes and covering your mouth with his. You waited for his text the next day, anxiously checking your phone until he finally did after 3 pm. From then on, you told each other everything, texting each other whenever you could, him calling you and heading over to your apartment whenever he didn’t have an obligation to the team. You fell hard for him and you had believed that he felt the same about you. 

“The kind of person who doesn’t know what they have until it’s gone,” Nat tells you, trying to pep you up. “Hey, we can find you a guy that is just as hot as Nico tonight.” 

“I’m gonna move to Ireland and isolate myself with the spuds.”

“Act like you can be away from me for that long,” they tease, earning a laugh from you. “I’m serious, though. Tell me what you want to do, or who you want to do, and Jack and I will make it happen.”

You didn’t want someone just as hot as Nico, you wanted Nico. You hated the fact that there was more than one time that you had pulled up his messages on your phone, part of you unable to delete that conversation thread even though you knew it would be the healthy thing to do. But you weren’t known amongst your friends for doing what was best for your mental wellbeing, so you kept them, going back through the conversations you had in the four months you were seeing him. The last text was what haunted you the most, him telling you that he was going to be back in Switzerland for the summer and that he ‘didn’t want you tied down to one person’ while he was gone.

He said he would text you when he was back. 

He never did. 

There were multiple times when you wanted to text him, but you never did, either. 

“Yeah,” you manage to choke out. “Let’s do it.” 

You spend the rest of the ride in silence, trying to think of where in the bar you would be able to hide from Nico so that he wouldn’t see you. The guys were already inside, Jack telling Nat about 10 minutes ago that they went to start drinking as fast as they could. 

The bar was somehow muggy inside, as if the beer itself hung in the air rather than the sweat of the nearly one hundred drunk people that were crowding every square inch of the floor. Jack was easy to spot for Nat, his five foot eleven frame not the largest of his teammates, but still distinct enough that your roommate had left your side within seconds of entering to be with their partner. 

So much for finding you someone tonight. 

You tried to stay away from him, closer to Nat and Jack as best as you could, but they kept wandering off from you. The last thing you wanted to do was go with them when they were both on their way to drunk and have a history of doing slightly illegal things in the bathrooms at bars. 

You had to find someone to talk to. Any person who looked interesting. Any other guy on the team who you were friends with, but that was really only Jack, and that was really only because he’s dating Nat. Your phone was your only comfort, finding a table that had been pushed up against the wall and hoping that there was something you could doom scroll on that would distract you from looking towards Nico. 

He had the right to do what he wanted at the bar with his teammates. You weren’t together. 

“You ok?” you hear during a lull in the music, pulling you away from your phone for a moment. You didn’t know who was standing in front of you, one of the newer guys from the trade deadline that Nat definitely hadn’t introduced you to. He was waiting for you to respond, looking like he had wanted to sit down with you.

“Yeah, just, not a big ‘going out’ person.”

He lets out a nervous laugh, a smile that sends a jolt through your system that you hadn’t felt in a while. Since Nico, if you were really willing to be honest with yourself. “Me neither, honestly. I’m just here because I didn’t have anything else to do.” 

“I got dragged here with my roommate so they can be with their boyfriend,” you tell him, gesturing to Nat and Jack trying their best to sneak out of the bathroom, Jack’s shirt buttoned wrong, both of their previously neatly styled hair in a mess that you only saw after hearing them the night before. 

“So that’s the infamous Nat,” he says, taking the seat beside you. You nod as he continues, “Jack never shuts up about them. Not that Jack shuts up about anything or anyone, ever, but especially not Nat.” 

“I always knew he was a good one,” you tell him, introducing yourself so he knew you as more than just, ‘his teammate's partner’s roommate.’

“I’m Timo.” 

You spent the rest of the night bouncing between the table and the bar with Timo, him buying you every drink you wanted. There was something about him that was different, but you couldn’t focus all of your attention on him. 

He was talking about his time in San Jose while you were waiting for your next round of drinks. You couldn’t focus on a word he was saying, Nico within your line of sight talking to a girl. A really attractive girl, you might add. You felt your heart drop, feeling a lump in your throat forming faster than you could lie to yourself about that scene having no effect on you. Naturally, Nico would talk to other people. You hadn’t talked to him in two years, let alone seen him in person. Just because you couldn’t get over him, no matter how hard you tried, that didn’t mean he didn’t get over you.

“And then I got traded here, and I love it, so far,” you tune back into Timo, who is suddenly much closer than you remember. It’s just because the bar is loud, people are starting to crowd for drinks, and, fuck, you have to admit, he’s pretty hot. 

Nico was still watching. 

Timo took your hand, leading you off to the table where you were before, the drinks in your hand probably not ones that you needed to begin with. His free hand snaked its way to your waist, pulling you close to him. You could feel your heart racing faster with every inch he got closer to you. You wanted him to kiss you. 

You thought you did. 

“I’m sorry,” you pull away right as his lips were about to meet yours, tears starting to form in your eyes, leaving the drink he bought you in his hands as you ran from him. Your breath catches in your throat while you try to find Nat and Jack, just praying that they weren’t back in the bathroom or too intoxicated in general to help out. 

You heard Timo calling after you, somehow, through the volume of the music and your own drunkenness, breaking through and getting to you. You didn’t want Timo calling your name, you wanted it to be Nico. 

You needed it to be Nico. 

“Hey, hey,” you hear, feeling a familiar hand gently place itself on your arm. You turn around, Nico’s face a mixture of concern and fury. “What did he do?” 

“He, he,” you stammer, the tears falling faster the more you looked at him, every memory you had with him suddenly rushing back into your mind. “He didn’t do anything. You did.”

You yank your arm from him, trying to find anywhere to be in the building that didn’t have one of Nico’s teammates looking at you causing a scene. You knew he was following you, calling your name again and again over the music. People were starting to stare, but no part of you cared, trying harder to not let the tears that were burning your eyes fall down your cheeks. 

Nat and Jack were nowhere to be seen, the rest of Nico’s teammates trying to figure out what was going on when you burst through the front door of the bar, the cold fall air hitting your face as soon as you did. You let out a sob, trying to steady yourself against the wall of the building, sliding down to the ground while people waiting to get in tried to figure out if they should help you or if you were just another drunk person having some sort of meltdown that was none of their business. 

“Hey,” you hear, a soft voice coming from above you. “I’m so sorry if I did something wrong.” Timo slid down next to you. “I read the situation wrong, I thought you were also into me.”

“I am, I just,” you start, trying to think of what to say. 

“Hey, what the fuck did you do?” Nico yells, pulling Timo off the ground. “What did he do to make you cry?”

“Nico, stop,” you let out, Timo looking both confused and terrified by his new captain’s hand on his shirt collar. “He didn’t do anything.”

“What the fuck did I miss?” Timo asked, slowly trying to back away from Nico staring you down. 

“Why can you talk to other people and I can’t?” you ask him, feeling your sadness turn into anger. “You had no issue not talking to me for the last two years.” 

“I’m gonna go,” Timo lets out, barely loud enough for the two of you to hear and sneaking away before you could notice. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me,” Nico counters, taking a step towards you. “But you wanted to talk to TImo instead?”

“Where the fuck did you get that idea?” 

“You never texted me. You’ve spent the entire night avoiding me. You think I didn’t see you when you were by yourself on your phone?” 

“You were in Sweden. And you could have come up to me and talked to me, what was stopping you? Oh, that’s right, your new girlfriend.”

“Switzerland. And she’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t seen anyone in ages.”

“Wherever you were, you weren’t here,” you tell him, your back against the wall. How long had it been since he had last seen someone? There was no way you had been the last person he was with. “You told me you didn’t want to be tied down while you were back home. You didn’t even want to talk to me, because if you did, you would have.” 

“You’re joking,” he scoffs. “You think I didn’t want to talk to you? Every fucking day I have thought about how our conversations would go when I saw you after you get home from work. I would think about you telling me about your day, about everything you would tell Nat, or whoever you were seeing at the time. Every single person I saw in the last two years, I wanted them to be you.” 

You didn’t know what to say, letting Nico’s words sink in. “Then why didn’t you text me when you came back from Switzerland?” 

Nico took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the sky. “Because I thought there was no way someone else wouldn’t have realized how amazing you are. There was no way I could be someone who you thought was worth waiting for.” 

Nico takes a step towards you, his hand gently taking yours. This was a moment you had been thinking about since he left for Switzerland two years ago. You knew he was going to kiss you, having you pinned against the wall of the building. His free hand cupped your cheek.

“There you guys are!” Nat interrupts, them and Jack clearly having just finished up doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Nico steps away from you, clearing his throat, the red in his cheeks so noticeable there was no way even your roommate wouldn’t comment on it later.  “We’ve been looking for you, for um.”

“Long enough,” Jack finishes their sentence, a stupid smile covering his face. You knew he was lying, but no part of your brain was letting you focus on that. Nico leaned against the building, his arm up over your head. “The uber’s almost here. Are you ready to go?”

No. “Yes.” 

The three of you leave Nico standing there by himself, Nat and Jack falling asleep in the Uber as soon as it gets on the highway. 

You check your phone for the first time in a while, a lone notification popping up on your phone that hadn’t been there in almost two years. 

‘Nico, iMessage.’ 

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #devils #new jersey devils fic #devils ic #summer fic exchange 2023

[allbark-no-bite]

Meet Me In the Middle || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: it is all too easy to give and take when the lines of platonic love become blurred. or in which you’ll alway be Elvis’ little girl

warnings: 18+, sexual content, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, the usual swearing

word count: 5k

author’s note: low key I’m really proud of this one. thank you all for the love and support i received on my last fic <33 i literally have so many elvis ideas but not enough time to write them. would y’all want some shorter fics too?

—

Summer was sharing sweet orange slices from the farmers market and the sticky juice that trailed down our arms. Summer was playing tag in the front yard, tousling like rabbits in the the green grass. Summer was late nights spent listening to records together on my full sized bed.

Summer was Elvis. Until it wasn't.

One late night in 1957, summer became the three month notice of a court ordered draft. Summer became the worst three months of my entire life.

—

"You're not actually gonna go though, right, El?" I'm standing at the bottom of the stair case, feet cemented to the last step as I wait for his reply.

Elvis and his mama and daddy all look up at me from where they're gathered in the living room. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side, as if hiding it from my sight would erase it from my mind. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat.

I swivel my head, looking from his mama and then back to Elvis. No one moves to speak, and I break the building tension again as I realize what their silence means. "Elvis!"

He sighs, lifting his hand to rub his brow. "I've got to go, darlin’. I can't—"

I stomp my foot against the wooden staircase and it makes a loud thud that echos through the house. "Tell them you can't! You can't go—you can't leave us!"

Obviously becoming frustrated, Elvis takes a few steps towards the stairwell, waving his draft notice at me. "I've got no choice, alright? It's that or they fucking arrest me!"

"UGH!" I screech, turning on my heels and stomping up the stairs. It's childish of me but had I stayed planted there any longer, the tears burning in the back of my eyes would have made their appearance, and I don’t want him to see me cry.

Elvis shouts after me. "C'mon, really, [y/n]? You're gonna cry? Get back down here!"

I stomp louder, ignoring him, and storm into my room. I slam the door once I'm inside. Elvis hated it when I slammed doors. Once I reach my bed, I rip the sheets off of it and then clamp them shut around me. Only then do I allow the burning tears to start down my face.

Germany. He was going to Germany. Out of the millions of people in the world, what were the odds that they pulled his name. Apparently pretty damn good. What was he thinking? Elvis couldn't fight in a war. Surely the Colonel would have something to say about this. As much as I hated my stepdad, I was certain this was something we could agree on.

My mama had married young. It was a fairytale story in which she'd fallen madly in love with my daddy her senior year of high school and dropped out to marry him then and there. My daddy had been dealt a good set of cards by his own father and was a very successful lawyer down in New Orleans. He died of a heart attack when I was five, leaving my momma his entire inheritance. A few years later, she married a Mr. Colonel Tom Parker. My momma was beautiful, but he had married her for the money. He proved my point by divorcing her two years later, leaving me stuck between two homes.

I loathed the summers that I would be sent to spend with my stepdad. He'd never done ill to me, but again I had little reason to like him either. He tolerated me for three months of the year as his form of child support, and I spent weeks dreading following him and his little circus act around for the sake of 'show business'. That was until I met his up and coming act Elvis Presley.

Once Elvis blew up, the Colonel finally set aside his circus life and moved us to Graceland to focus on the young star full time. Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to leaving behind my mother's beautiful Louisiana estate and spending more and more time in Memphis, Tennessee.

But if I had ever learned anything about my stepfather, it was that he would do anything for the sake of business. Which is why instead of shutting down Elvis' ridiculous notion that he was going to enlist in the army, he encouraged it, hoping to make him some sort of all American hero or whatever he called it.

We throw Elvis a going away party the night before he ships off for Germany. I refuse to attend, spending the evening moping in my bedroom. The happy chatter and music coming from downstairs only serve to worsen my mood.

I wish everyone would just go home so I could sulk in peace.

I kick off the shoes I had worn for the evening and sit with my legs crossed a top my bed. A tattered flannel dog sits where I had left it on my pillow last night, and I pick it up, realizing I had forgotten to put it away.

Elvis had given me the plush dog at the end of the first summer I spent at Graceland. Something to remember him by back home, he had said. For a long time, I never went anywhere without it. But I'd eventually forgotten about the dog and didn't touch it for years. I'd started carrying it around again now that he was leaving.

Knuckles rap softly at my door, but before I can even stand up to answer it, Elvis is pushing the door open and stepping hesitantly into my bedroom.

I glare at him, dropping the flannel stuffed animal to the ground. "I didn't say you could come in."

He ignores my harsh rebuke and crouches down to retrieve the stuffed dog. Methodically, as if lost in a memory, he turns the plush toy over in his hands. I watch as his fingers muse with the soft flannel of the dog's ear. Standing up, he slowly walks towards the bed. "I don't wanna fight tonight."

I turn my head. Between his freshly cut hair and crisp uniform, it's all too much.

The bed dips underneath me, and Elvis places the toy in my lap. "I haven't seen this thing in a while," he comments, prompting me in a futile attempt to get me to talk.

I just shrug, still not looking directly at him. Because I can't tell him that I haven't slept without the stupid plush dog in months now. Can't tell him that because I don't want him to think I'm just some dumb little kid.

"C'mon," Elvis persists, a playful tone to his voice as he nudges his elbow into my side. "Don't go tellin' me you're too grown for that kinda stuff now, lil’ girl."

I set the dog off of my lap, as if wanting to remove it from view and out of the conversation.

"I'll be too grown by the time you're comin' home. Turnin' eighteen next year," I point out bitterly, reminding him that he's missing my birthday.

Elvis is quiet for a moment. "Eighteen don't mean all that much," he finally says. "You'll still be my lil’ girl."

His little girl. His dumb kid sister. It's all just the same, I think. That is all he will ever think of me.

I'd been counting down the days until I turned eighteen, waiting for that growth spurt, waiting for puberty to hit, waiting for the day that I could shake him awake and say, Look. Look at how much I've changed. I'm not your kid sister anymore. I don't want to be your kid sister anymore.

I'd always been his 'lil’ girl'. And for a long time that had been okay. I was fourteen when I permanently moved into Graceland. We were practically raised together. We were best friends and fought like brother and sister. But now that I was older, it was hard to see him like that anymore. He was still my best friend in the entire world, but I'd grown, and I understood a lot more than I did when I was fourteen. I noticed the sharpness of his face now, the childlike roundness gone. I noticed the new fullness of his body and how it balanced out his once lanky frame.

He'd become a man without me realizing it, and I desperately didn't want to be his little sister anymore. But now that he was leaving, none of it mattered. I'd grow up without him there to see it, and he'd move on, find some nice girl in Germany.

Elvis tilts his head, trying to smile at me, his soft pink lips pressed together. "I'll throw you a big party when I get back, yeah? Mama'll make you a cake, and we'll sing 'happy birthday' even if it's the middle of June."

I bite my lip and laugh, thinking about how ridiculous it would be because I know that he's being serious.

God, I'm gonna miss him.

"Two years isn't so long," my voice cracks, and I laugh through the sob as I finally turn towards him. "Right?"

Elvis smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."

—

The day Elvis came back was a cold day in Memphis, Tennessee. The warm weather of budding summer had yet to come, leaving us all bundled up in heavy coats as we waited amongst crowds and crowds of people at the train station. But then again, summers had never been quite the same since Elvis left two years ago.

Gladys held onto my elbow beside me, and I would point out in the direction of each new train that appeared. To my left was my boyfriend of six months. We had met due to some mutual friends and hit it off pretty quickly. He was no Elvis, and so I had been hesitant at first, but he was persistent in asking me out for weeks. I had finally relented, and he surprised me. He was good to me.

"Oh look!" Gladys exclaimed, patting my hand and drawing my attention back to the tracks. "That's him!"

A black train engine approached us, slowing down as it neared and stopped at the station in a whoosh of steam. After a bustle of excitement at the side of the loading dock, I caught a glimpse of his dark black hair. With the help of the conductor and a couple police officers, Elvis began to push his way through the crowd.

He greeted him mama first, hugged her tightly and unabashedly let her kiss his cheeks as he stooped to reach her. He'd grown a lot in two years. Next was his daddy, who's hand he shook firmly and then leaned in, clapping him on the back.

When he got to me, he hugged me like a big brother would do, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side to place a smooched kiss to the top of my head. And then when he pulled away and caught sight of my boyfriend standing at my side, he hardened his blue eyes and squared his shoulders in that same big brotherly fashion, stiffly holding his hand out to shake. If he was angry with me—as he should have been—he didn't show it. I hadn't told him about my boyfriend, but I assumed Gladys had let him on about it.

Moving on after an awkwardly stiff handshake, Elvis greeted the Colonel as well as Sonny and Jerry, and then gathered his things. We went home and life went back normal, exactly as it was before Elvis had left. Everything went back to how it was. We laughed and joked and quarreled as we did before he left, and pretended to ignore the problem the presence of my boyfriend proposed.

For most, Elvis and I’d closeness would have likely torn apart any romantic relationships. We were too comfortable with each other to just be friends, and yet that’s what we where. That’s what we had to be. We took what we could get.

—

What I would have done had I not stumbled into the wall, likely waking up the entire house and causing Elvis to stick his head out of his bedroom door, I honestly don't know. I wouldn't have called him, I think to myself, because brothers aren't supposed to know that their little sister's in bed with a boy. But he's not my brother, and I don't have a choice because before the words leave my mouth, he's pulling me into his bedroom, shielding me from everything except for the view of his wide shoulders that are wedged between the doorframe.

My legs are shaking. My entire body is shaking. I'm lightheaded from crying and my chest burns from all the hyperventilating I was doing moments before. The insides of my legs tingle, and I realize it's because liquid is dripping down them. I don't want to know what color it is. Neither is good, I think.

Out in the hall, I can hear footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor. "[y/n] run off in there?"

Elvis steps further out of the door, still using his body to block me from view. "She got a reason to be runnin'?" His voice is dangerously monotone.

I hear the other voice scoff. He must be standing out in the hall, a safe distance from Elvis. "Look, I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for."

Elvis looks back at me from over his shoulder, taking in my current state under his gaze. My face burns with shame and humiliation.

His eyeliner black eyes are steely, almost murderously calm. It's the look of someone who's about to kill a man. I know that he notices my lack of shorts and half unbuttoned night shirt because it's his. Stolen from Elvis long ago, it's just long enough to cover the curve of my ass and enough to hide the fact that I'm not even wearing panties. And maybe that is why he doesn't kill the boy on the other side of the door then and there.

"Get out of my goddamn house."

"I didn't—"

"Get out before I break your fucking face in," he snarls.

The noise is enough to stir Jerry, who pokes his head up the stairwell. Ever the peacekeeper, I hear his mellow voice float down the hall. "EP? Everything okay?"

Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Elvis' voice has returned to the chillingly quiet tone. "Get to stepping, pal," he growls. I can picture his face, white teeth bared into a menacing snarl like one of those dogs who's yard the postman stays away from.

There is a heavy pause in the conversation and then I hear loud footsteps descending the stairs. The front door slams shut.

The moment he retreats from the door, I'm clinging to him, grabbing at his soft satin shirt and hiccuping into his chest. His palm cradles the back of my head, hugging me into his body. His presence is comforting enough to stop my trembling, but when he pulls me away from his chest, another sob escapes my mouth.

"Please, you can't tell the Colonel, El." I reach for him again, just wanting to be held.

He holds my shoulder at arms length, worried blue eyes taking me in. "What happened, lil’ girl?"

Another sob rakes through my chest, tearing at my raw lungs and choking up my throat. My hand grabs at his shirt, desperate to hold on to him. "I thought I was ready. I really did." I'm swallowing spit as I talk, still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. "And then I couldn't— He wouldn't—"

Elvis' jaw hardens and he lets me push myself into his chest again, hushing my cries. "Okay, okay. It's okay, darlin'."

I hiccup into his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest. The heavy thrum of his heart pounds against my ear. He's still breathing hard, holding me securely against him. "El, You can't—"

"I ain't gonna tell no one, lil’ girl, alright?" Elvis states firmly, as if to put my worries to an end once and for all.

"Hey." Elvis takes half a step backwards, doing his best to detach me from his body. I let out another halfhearted sob again, my eyes blurry and red from crying. "Hey—now, enough of that. Let's clean you up." His tone is firmer than I would have expected, but it works enough to sober me up.

I nod, emitting one last hiccup and dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes.

Walking into his bathroom, Elvis sits me down on the closed toilet seat and after running a wash rag under the warm sink water, crouches in front of me. Suddenly I'm in grade school again, waiting for him to clean my scraped knee because I never did know what was good for me.

"Gonna clean you up, 'kay, darlin'?" His tender blue eyes hold mine.

The wet clothe drips onto the ground and his finger tips ghost up my thigh, brushing aside the shirt bundled at my waist. I see his hands tremble, and he swallows as his eyes take in my bareness. He's realizing I'm not wearing panties. Elvis sniffs and squeezes my knee with one hand. Wordlessly, he brings the wash clothe softly between my thighs.

I twitch slightly at the sensation, wanting to mewl and push his hand away, but I remain still as he works. He won't look up at me as he tenderly drags the clothe between my legs, focused on ridding me of every memory of tonight.

It's a terribly strange experience, having someone who is so close to you care for you in such a compromising position. And yet there's a mutual understanding there that says, 'this is okay with me so long as it's okay with you'.

Finally, the feel of the clothe disappears, but Elvis remains crouched, his head between my knees. He's so close that I feel his breath on me.

I imagine his nose brushing my bare cunt.

The problem was that I was exactly the kind of pretty that he picked out in girls every weekend and sought out after shows, and we both knew it.

The problem was that I was his little girl who's boyfriends he ran off and runny nose he wiped.

He sighs and kisses the inside of each of my knees. "C'mon. Let's get you in the shower, lil’ girl." He sits back on his heels and stands up, tossing the red stained rag into the bin.

I watch from the toilet seat as he turns on the water for the shower that he doesn't even like. Elvis had a preference for baths and I knew because he alway requested a room with one wherever he stayed. The only reason he had a shower at Graceland was because it was easier to have sex in.

I knew this because I'd asked him one day as I laid sprawled across his mattress, flipping through a magazine. He was in the shower at the time, the door half ajar as he had left it, the steam of the shower spilling through the crack. His girlfriend had just left and he'd run upstairs, tossing his shirt on me as he went. He'd nearly had his jeans off before he even slipped through the bathroom door, and I'd caught a glimpse of his blue boxers.

A while after, as I listened to the spray of the water against the tiles, I'd asked him then and there, why he'd taken the room with the shower and given the other to Jerry.

"What?" he had asked distractedly, his voice raised so that I could hear him.

"How come you got a shower when you don't even like 'em?"

The spray of the shower head cut off and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. Through the crack of the door, I could see his reflection in the mirror as he preened at his wet ebony hair.

"Just easier I recon. When you have a girl over, I mean."

Elvis was nearing the cusp of twenty himself and so the topic of sex was not new nor uncomfortable to him. Besides, I was just his kid sister.

I was sixteen at the time and had no real concept of what it meant to me when he brought girls over. I guess I knew that he never grew especially attached to any specific one, and they went out of his life just as quickly as they had come.

"Oh," was all that I had said afterwards, watching him as he walked out of the bathroom, his face flushed red, towel bunched in his hand. Instead of using it to dry off his hair, he tossed it into the laundry bin and grabbed a fresh one.

"Water's probably hot enough—," Elvis says, drawing me from my thoughts.

I tug at the rumpled collar of my—his—night shirt. "Will you..." I swallow away the knot in my throat. "Will you get in with me? I don't wanna..."

No. He's supposed to say no because someone's got to draw the line somewhere. We aren't kids anymore, no matter how desperately we both cling to the idea.

He pauses. "Yeah, sure, sweet thing."

I pull off the silky night shirt without a second thought. It was just Elvis and he'd probably seen me nearly naked a thousand times before. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror behind me, sliding off his own clothes and trying to avoid looking over in my direction. His is cock hard against his stomach.

"Go on," he says, ushering me into the shower, as though intent on pretending his body wasn't responding acutely to the situation. Elvis follows me in, his large frame taking up the bulk of the space.

Tangles of my wet hair falls in cascades down my shoulder. I let the stream pelt into my face, opening my mouth only to breathe and spitting out the water that enters. Rust tinged water swirls down the drain after running down my legs. A hiccup shakes my shoulders and more water flows into my mouth. I hadn't realized I was still crying.

Elvis' arms pull me into his chest, resting just under my breasts, and one hand slides up my throat, tipping my chin up so that I can breathe. "Hey." His bare skin feels foreign against my back. Forbidden in a sense. "Enough of that. Breathe, lil’ girl."

My head falls back limply against his shoulder, and I allow my eyes to close. The steady weight of Elvis' chin comes to rest in the joint of my neck and shoulder as he holds me close. One of his thumbs strokes the swell of my breast, just barley ghosting the bud of my nipple. Even in the hot shower, the action makes me shiver.

"I should have run him off after dinner. Shouldn't have boys around the house this late," he whispers softly.

"I'm grown now, Elvis," I remind him weakly. "I can do what I what."

"And you wanted him?"

I can feel the girth of his arousal against my back. He emits a small huff each time I move. Elvis runs a hand down my body, not stopping until his large fingers are splayed across the expanse of my stomach. His other hand still tweaks at my nipple, cupping the fullness of my breast in his palm.

It feels good enough to make my body feel like putty in his hands. I'd let those hands do anything to me.

"You know, you were the first boy to break my heart?" I say instead.

Elvis sighs heavily against my body, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my belly. "You were too little, and I was grown," he says in his own way of answering me.

"And now?"

His hand slips from my stomach to slide around the curve of my ass, and he tips his head up to press his nose into my wet hair. "God, I hate the thought that his hands were on you. That he touched you."

I feel his puffy pink lips hover above the tender skin of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His nose skims the shell of my ear, and he kisses the joint between my neck and shoulder. Elvis's hand travels back around my body, sinking lower lower, until his forefingers just barely ghost my bareness. I whimper as my sensitive cunt clenches around emptiness.

Elvis' mouth is hot against my ear. "Do you trust me?"

There are still faint smudges of dark mascara under my eyes, and I've only just stopped all the ragged, unsteady breathing. I’m still aching and tender. I think about how I didn't think twice about running into his arms, even if I was too ashamed to call for him myself. I'd trust him with my life.

I nod.

"Words. I need words."

I swallow, pressing my nose to the column of his throat. "I've always trusted you."

There's no tension between us as he rubs his fingers against my cunt, tenderly exploring the heat of me. There's no hurry as his fingers prod at my opening, feeling the tightness and resistance of my body. I reflexively push my hips into his hand when his thumb passes over my clit, sending jolts up my spine. The hand holding my body against him tightens, pulling me back into his chest, and he draws his hand away. His fingers spread and my arousal, tinged with red, clings between them. The spray of water slowly washes the color away.

I can feel his silent anger in every breath, how it stalls and then releases. It's evident in the way his body moves around me. "He didn't do nothin' wrong," I whisper timidly. "Just—it was too late by the time I realized I didn't want it to be him."

Elvis stills behind me, and his hand comes up to crane my chin around to look at him. His hooded blue eyes are questioning. "He didn't—"

I sniff embarrassedly, a broken huff of a laugh coming out of my mouth. "Pop my cherry? Not necessarily."

As if soaking in my words, Elvis observes my face, thumbing my bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he dips his head down, capturing my lips with his. His mouth is hot and he licks into my mouth. For a moment, I'm painfully conscious of my youth and the years of experience that he has on me. It's obvious that he's done this before, kissed a lot of girls before me. However, I could get drunk on his taste alone, and I go with it, building confidence as he groans into my mouth.

"Want you to do it, El." His large hands feel up and down my body, and he groans again.

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

I nearly stumble as he moves us together as one unit, and my back hits the cold wall of the shower. His body is on mine immediately, and I chase his lips, desperate to taste him again. Our mouths connect, consuming each other, savoring the taste.

A gasp escapes my mouth at the sensation of his fingers prodding at my entrance, but he swallows it, pushing in one finger and then adding another. It's uncomfortable at first, and I squirm at the stretch, but then he's curling his fingers and petting at my velvet walls and my vision swims. My eyes must literally roll into the back of my head because he laughs at me.

"That feel good, lil’ girl?" Elvis hums.

It does but it's not what I want.

My attention goes back to his cock, which still sprung alertly against his abdomen, except now it's a flushed red. The head engorged and swollen, begs to be touched, and when I do, it's Elvis' turn for his eyes to roll into the back of his head. I don't know what I'm doing, and he must realize that because he slides his fingers out of me and cradles my jaw, his other hand wrapping around my fist. With his large hand over mine, Elvis drags my hand rhythmically over his cock. I take a guess and drag my thumb over the tip. His hips buck into my fist.

"So good, sweet girl," he rasps in that throaty southern drawl. After stroking himself a while longer, Elvis pulls my hand away from his cock and instead interlocks our fingers above my head.

His eyes find mine, panting heavily in the sliver of space between us.  "I'll be gentle," he promises, and then he's pushing in, the head of his cock pressing deep inside me.

With the slick of my arousal, the stretch is bearable, and quickly turns in to pleasure when he rocks his hips slowly into me. I can feel him hot and full within me. His second thrust is more fluid than the last one, pulling out and then sliding back in one motion. Above my head, my hand squeezes his and he reciprocates the gesture. I keen into his shoulder, biting down each time he drags deliciously in and out of me.

"Doin' so good for me," Elvis praises, kissing my cheeks and neck and lips over and over again. His next thrust has my stomach coiling, bubbling with hot pleasure. When he leans in to kiss me once more, he capture my bottom lip between his teeth and then releases it, leaning in again to kiss the swollen flesh.

"El—" I can hardly utter a coherent sentence. "I'm—" I can feel myself slipping, my mind fogging up.

"It's okay, I've got you. Let go, lil' girl. You can let go."

It feels like a rubber band pops in my stomach, and I moan, clenching around him as I come. Soon Elvis is releasing inside of me as well, claiming my walls with his seed. When he pulls out, I whine at the feeling of emptiness.

Elvis is still pressed into me, as if our bodies have become one entity. His release runs down my legs and pools on the tiles of the shower. Exhausted, I collapse into him. We’re both spent, chests heaving, legs shaking.

He laughs, pecking my swollen lips. "Looks like you need another shower."

#elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presley fic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut

[chososbabymama]

shybassist!choso x blk reader; MDNI!!

[CW// referenced child abuse, swearing, implied NSFW]

gege been deprivin us of choso content so i made my own !

this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i want it gONE

ShyBassistChoso who first sees you at a gig his band played at. it was at a local festival and your best friend was a huge fan of them and their lead singer, satoru. as soon as you had seen choso, something about him... intrigued you. the domineering energy that stemmed from his appearance was a complete opposite of his actions. as he fiddled with his base, it was almost as if he was trying to make himself smaller. you started to look a little harder at him. the way the cutoff t-shirt hugged his frame in a way that left you wondering what it looked like off. the way the dark material of the cargo pants made his legs seem miles long. but what mad you coo internally were the cute little twin pigtails that sat neatly atop his head. everything about the bass player made you want to know more. shoulders hunched in concentration, you couldn't help but peer even closer at him from your spot as he tuned and plucked the stings with an arousing expertise. as if he could feel your lustfully curious gaze, the man lifted his head and scanned the crowd before meeting your gaze. his dark orbs widened in surprise at your intensity. you've never been subtle about the things you want... and you thought it best to make that known. so you wriggle manicured fingers in his direction and flash a wide grin in hopes he'd respond. as soon as the man realized your attention was TRULY on him, his whole face flushed into the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen before he looked back down as his bass and started to fiddle with it.. it was then you knew, you HAD to have him.

ShyBassistChoso who felt the heat of your gaze on him throughout the WHOLE set. at first he thought it was the heat from the stage lights, but as he continuously locked eyes with you between songs, the burning sensation in his ears hadnt gone away. you made choso nervous, and that fuckin terrified him. the last person he'd chosen to get romantically involved with had done great harm to him and his family (something choso didn't take lightly at all). so when you and your friend had gotten backstage passes to meet the band, his anxiety was through the roof. now that you were in their dressing room he had a better view of you and god you were just so fuckin pretty. the long floral skirt your wore had slipped down your waist a bit from all the movement in the crowd, revealing a sliver of your tummy. your two-toned black and red lips were coated in a generous amount of gloss. i wonder if she tastes sweet... choso swallowed hard, hands twitching with a fierce desire to touch. by the time you had introduced yourself to the other 4 choso had calmed down enough to stop his hands from sweating, but fuck his ears were still so red... you had stood in front of him with a warm smile on your face before sticking a hand out for him to shake.

'hi, im y/n. i really liked your set earlier! best show i've been to in a while.'

choso had quickly wiped his hand on his pants again for quick measure before grabbing yours. the soft pads of your fingers were a comforting contrast to his calloused palms, run down from years of practice.

'h-hi. im choso, i play bass... i really a-appreciate you coming, it means a lot to me- us! i mean us...'

choso once again felt his body grow warm as you threw back your head and let out a surprised laugh. your smile had gotten even wider as you stared at him with interested eyes.

'im glad i could make it then, i love supporting local artists. my best friend has a thing for gojo... as you can see'

you had pointed to the side where your friend was sitting next to gojo, LITERALLY twirling her braids as he spoke lowly in her ear. you roll your eyes fondly before turning back to choso, seeing him flicker his gaze up and down at you made your head tilt in confusion. what's he doing... his pigtails shook as he coughed nervously and reached to scratch the back of his neck.

's-so who are you... into... in the band?' he managed to make eye contact with you for all of 2 seconds before he shyly avoided your shocked gaze.

as you processed his words you took a mental assessment of the man in front of you. you could see this embarrassment had spread all the way to the back of his neck. from what you could tell during his time on stage, choso is a man filled with passion. seeing the way his eyes lit up during solos and accompaniments from his fellow bandmates was exhilarating. the way he expertly strummed his bass, it was almost as easy as breathing for him. he may not have been the lead singer, but choso dominated the stage in a way that made you wanna serve the pussy on a platter al dente.

ShyBassistChoso who as soon as the set was over, became... so fuckin soft? not in a toxic-masculinity kinda way! but in a overwhelming way that made you wanna scream and punch a wall. when the group began unpackin on stage, the crowd saw a small blur of pink hair zip through and fling itself on the platform.

'BIG BROTHER THAT WAS SO COOL!!!' you and everyone else in the building watched as choso easily slung his bass behind his back before opening his arms; catching a little boy with pink hair, wild eyes, and the cutest smile on his face.

everyone audibly coo'd at the sweet display, watching the little guy wrap his arms around his brothers neck and nuzzle into him. the look that choso gave his little brother was a sight to see. eyes once filled with adrenaline held nothing but fondness for the pinkette in his arms. cocky smirk falling into a small gentle smile, booming vocals being replaced with a deep gentle tone filled with love. choso was responding to his brother with matched enthusiasm, ruffling his hair before putting him on his shoulders and continuing to unpack while entertaining the little guy. it was something that filled your chest with warmth, watching the way choso handled the boy was enough to want to know more.

he's a family man... i could provide....

even now as you maintained conversation with choso, you could tell he was still keeping a watchful eye of his little brother bouncing around the room. is wasn't long before he made his way back to his brother, climbing and getting comfortable on choso's lap. he looked toward you with wide eyes, looking at you with a sense of wonder you only see in children. he quickly fixed a bright smile on his face and stuck out a hand.

"hi! im yuuji, choso's my big brother! you're really pretty, are you a gift from god?" the way he was completely serious...

you had covered your mouth to conceal your amusement, but choso could see your wide smile no matter how much you tried to hide it.

"no sweetheart i'm sorry, im not. why would you think that?" you giggled, yuuji really was adorable. you bent down to meet his gaze and tilt your head in fond confusion.

he raised his finger up and spoke with childlike authority,

"well uncle 'toru said that pretty people like him 'could only be a gift from god' so i thought you must be like uncle!" your head jerks back in surprise and you laugh as choso whips his head to glare at his bandmate (satoru was pointedly ignoring choso and he continued to speak casually with your friend... is he starting to sweat..?).

"i-i'm so sorry... sometimes i'm not there to monitor what they say around him. they love him no doubt... but gojo is the most unserious person i've ever met, so i can't say im surprised honestly."

choso had begun to laugh with you and yuuji had decided to entertain himself by playing with some drumsticks he picked up. as you watched choso reposition his brother to make sure he was secure you decided to answer his question.

"well... to answer your question-" choso's head snapped up quickly and he gazed at you eagerly... how cute.

"-im into this one guy in your band. tall... dark hair... really good with music..." choso slumped slightly, thinking you were referring to suguru, the drummer. untill he heard you continue,

"he also has the coolest tattoo across his nose and the sweetest little brother who called me a 'gift from god', i was actually thinkin about askin for his number, you think i have a shot?"

ShyBassistChoso who had once again flushed, but this time he was not nearly as nervous. he'd always been someone who valued his family more than anything, found included. his ex-partners had never completely understood that about him. and poor yuuji would try his best to get along with those people, but children aren't stupid. they know when they're not wanted. choso's last boyfriend had been particularly nasty, saying terrible things to yuuji and even going so far as to threaten him with physical violence in order to damage their relationship. after that, yuuji had changed. he was withdrawn and would hold himself back, not wanting get in the way of his brothers happiness. it came to a head when choso came home early to see his ex push yuuji to the ground, he'd raised his hand the smack the boy too but by then choso had flown forward and beat the shit out of the man. his ex tried to excuse his shitty behavior, citing several times that yuuji was a bother but choso wasn't having it. told the bastard to get out of his house and never come back (choso had taken all his ex's stuff out the apartment and burned it in a fire before sending him a picture of it an blocking his number, but not before taking the bastard to court and pressing charges).

ShyBassistChoso who watched you ruffle yuuji's hair (with his permission of course) with the softest smile on your face. you were usually awkward with kids, but yuuji was easy to talk to. seeing you with him made him feel...warm.

after all, he IS a family man....

maybe it was too early to say, but something about the way that you handled yuuji made him soft in ways he couldn't really explain. maybe things with you could be good. better, even. ever since that last bastard choso has done everything he could to make sure yuuji knew that nothing was more important than him... but maybe there was room for one more? choso closed that part of himself off a while ago, but meeting you has given him a small sense of...hope? yuuji had begun to play an interesting game of patty-cake (that he totally didn't just make up) with you, and you were gladly entertaining him.

ShyBassistChoso looked towards you and decided that he was done shying away from new possibilities. he smiled in your direction,

"yeah.. i think you have a real good shot."

THE END

#choso kamo #jjk x black reader #jjk anime #choso x !black reader #choso x black!reader #black fanfiction #black yn #black reader #anime x black!reader

[ficnation]

Withering Wildflowers - Daryl x Reader

Prompt: a bouquet of flowers

Word count: 864

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: pure angst, usual twd themes (e.g. descriptive gore, use of weapons, violence, cursing), major character's death

A/n: This is a piece for @the-slumberparty writing challenge week 1! I'm so sorry I'm posting it right now, but I've just realized it was sitting in my drafts for weeks :") Enjoy some angst!

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

You were withering like the bouquet of flowers he left on your bedside table almost two weeks ago. Your skin lost its glow, greying like the petals of the wildflowers. Your limbs felt too heavy for your body, and your hair framed your face sticking to your sweaty skin.

Life was unforgiving for Daryl. He’s already lost so much—his family, friends, brother, and the life he used to know. Now, the world wanted to take you—the person he loved the most on this miserable fucking planet—away from him.

He sat beside you on the bed, holding your weak hand and pressing it against his cheek, trying to make you feel less alone.

“Daryl, I don’t want you to do it,” you rasped out, fingers brushing over his stubbled chin. You tried to meet his eyes, but you were afraid you’d break down right there in front of him, and he didn’t need to know how scared you were to die or worse—become one of those things.

“Not gonna let ya turn,” he mumbled out, leaving a soft kiss on the tips of your fingers. “It has to be me.”

He was calm, almost too calm now, after he lashed out at everyone that tried to talk to him about your condition and what to do about it. The anger subsided, making space for the fear, grief and agony the prospect of losing you brought. He didn’t want you to see it on his face and feel even worse. He just wanted to make your last moments peaceful and make sure you knew how loved you truly were and how much he’ll miss you—how much they’ll all miss you.

“Can ya at least look me in the eyes?” Daryl’s gruff voice sounded from beside you again, but the only thing you could do was shake your head and look down. The tears fell freely down your sunken cheeks. “Hey, c’mon, jus’ look at me,” he pleaded. He reached out, taking your face in his hands. “I know yer afraid.”

His last words got your attention, and you looked up, meeting his baby blue irises. “I’m dying, Daryl. It’s fucking terrifying, but…” you paused, taking a deep breath in to steady your voice, “leaving you scares me even more.” You didn’t burst into sobs; you had no more tears left to cry.

“I’m gonna be alright, ya know that. I promised ya.”

Daryl leaned in, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. It took him a long moment to pull away. He wanted to cherish the kiss, but all he could focus on was the roughness of your lips that were once the definition of softness—always making him think of the delicacy of flower petals. It was another reminder of the state you were in—closer to death than you ever were.

“Can I ask you to do something for me? One last time,” you whispered, looking at him sadly.

Daryl knew you could read him and his thoughts like a book. He cast his gaze down shamefully, nodding his head to agree that he’d grant your wish. Why couldn’t he pretend just for a little while that everything was going to be okay? Why did he have to remind you and himself that you’d soon stop being you? He despised himself for it and for lying to you. He’d never be okay without you there.

“Can you pick some fresh flowers for me?” You looked at the bouquet by your side with a melancholic smile. “They’re withering.”

Daryl snorted quietly, “Since when do ya care ’bout a bunch of wildflowers?” His response made the grimace on your face become a genuine smile. He could swear his heart thumped madly at the sight—just like the day he saw it for the first time. “I’ll get ’em for ya, darlin’.”

The archer got up from the bed and rolled his shoulders to loosen them up. If you wanted flowers, he’d go to hell and back to get you some goddamn flowers; he’d rip them out of walkers’ hands if it came to that. Daryl glanced at you again thoroughly before he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours in a longing kiss. His fingers smoothed down your hair before he pulled away.

“I’ll be back real soon. I promise.”

You only needed to give her a slow nod for her to understand that it was time. She took the gun out of her waistband and stepped to your side, one of her hands reaching out to grasp yours. Carol knew how terrified you were, standing eye to eye with death itself, and she knew how Daryl would’ve never forgiven himself for being the one on the other side of that gaze; that’s why she agreed to your plan—to make it all less insufferable.

The moment you heard the front door slamming shut, you called out for Carol.

The woman barged into the room, her eyes murky with sadness and unshed tears.

Her hand was steady, holding the weapon against the side of your head. “Just look at the flowers, sweetheart,” she whispered.

“Thank you, Carol,” you mumbled out, your eyes glued to the bouquet of withering wildflowers.

@whiskeypowder @hopefulatrocity @witheringblooddemon @humanmistakes @yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff @spidergirla5 @depressedfrog2 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @wonderful-writer @sexyseabass @sweetpotatospock @witchygagirl

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead amc #writing challange #the slumber party #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead x you #twd x reader #twd x gender neutral reader #daryl dixon x gender neutral reader