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roosterforme · 17 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

New Romantics

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!

a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!

LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!

New Romantics - Taylor Swift

warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.

The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.

It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.

You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.

You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.

The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.

The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.

This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.

There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.

Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.

“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.

The boy held out his hand.

“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”

Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.

Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.

The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.

You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.

He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.

You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.

“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”

You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.

Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.

You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.

She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.

Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?

Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?

“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”

The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.

“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”

He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.

“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.

“I said apologize, dumbass.”

He glares at Clarisse.

“You’re fucking insane.”

She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”

“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”

“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.

Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.

The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”

The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”

Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.

The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.

She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.

She brushes her thumb across her cheek.

“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”

She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.

Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.

—-

clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are

—-

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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one-piece-aus · 10 months

Note

Idk if your requests are open but could u do Sanji and Zoro with a very jumpy s/o and they usually jump into their arms or cling onto them but this time their s/o clings to the other, (like sanjis s/o clinging onto Zoro and vice versa)

Please and ty<3

Lmao, I love this idea so much

S/O Jumping into the Wrong Arms (Headcanons): Sanji and Zoro (Separate)

You know Sanji loves whenever you jumps into his arms or back, just clinging onto in general, it makes him feel on top of the world

Yes he's here to protect you from whatever scared you darling, he's right here to keep you away from it

He's always by your side, ready for you to jump into his arms

It also helps him practice his reflexes and balance because sometimes he's carrying a tray of drinks or desserts for the crew

There was one time when he wasn't by your side, it was in the morning while he was in the kitchen making breakfast before everyone woke up

You woke up and came out of the girls quarters, and seeing Zoro is the only one on deck, you decide to chat with him

So when Sanji swung open the door to the kitchen, you jumped onto the closet person: Zoro (who caught you out of reflex when the scared trio jump onto him)

5 seconds of silence pass between the duo (while you sighed in relief it was just Sanji)

"DAMNIT MOSS HEAD!!!!"

Oh Sanji is pissed at Zoro (and himself for not being by your side)

Sanji is practically barking at Zoro while the swordsman yells it's not his fault and drops you on your ass, which only angers Sanji even more

"'The hell moss head!? You can't do that to a lady!"

[insert Zoro having Jackie Chan meme face here]

"Are you okay my sweet?" Sanji asks immediately at your side

After that, Sanji always made sure he was glued to your side

Now when Zoro catches you when you jump, he acts unphased or as if it's a minor inconvenience to him, but somewhere along the line, he felt it was his duty (because he wanted it to be) he just never realized until the one time you jump into another's arms

Zoro was training in the crow's nest and you were out on deck with Nami & Robin, getting refreshments from Sanji

Whether it was Luffy, Brook, or Usopp that startled you, you yelped and jumped right into Sanji's arms

"[Y/N]-CHAN ♡♡♡♡"

Sanji is swoon with heart eyes and rambling on about non-sense about his love for you and asking if you finally are going to love him

Zoro can hear his annoying voice from the crow's nest but understand what he's saying so he pops his head out

"Oi, swirly brows you're being annoy-..."

*sees you in Sanji's arms*

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HARRASSING [Y/N]!?"

Zoro jumps down and they start barking at each other as Sanji puts you down

Sanji strikes a nerve by saying "How can you protect her if you're not around."

While Zoro makes his argument, after that day he wordlessly always stayed by your side

It is his duty to protect you from whatever scares you after all

This was such a fun request, thank you for sending it in ^-^

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tabithatwo · 8 months

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It’s actually so painfully brilliant the way yellowjackets sets up their un-stereotype-able characters. I could (and might) do this for all of them, but because she’s on my mind right now—the show tells us that jackie taylor is the type of girl who has high expectations put on her and WILL be analyzed constantly (from coach, her parents, jeff, shauna (if only by way of shauna’s reflective habits and her personal narrative construction), the team (by way of being captain).

Then they show us so many instances of Jackie being good and kind. Is she perfect? NO, BECAUSE THEN SHE’D BE ANOTHER STEREOTYPE (THE PERFECT DEAD GIRL/WIFE), SILLY! She has enough edge to be believable as a teenage girl.

And what do people do with that edge? They sharpen it and sharpen it and use it to cut out every moment where Jackie is being kind or trying her hardest! Because what do we like?? Feeling confident in our stereotypical assumptions of people! And what did the show do? Give us scenes with blocking that suggests the popular girl/loner best friend stereotype and absolutely turn them on their head, because what’s not very realistic?? The popular girl who is mean to her loser best friend stereotype in media! (Is it impossible in life? NO, nothing is! But it’s not a standard set up. It’s not as common as media makes it out to be.)

What is one of Jackie’s primary fears as a character? Being held to INSANELY high standards and not meeting them! And what do the viewers commonly do to jackie? Why, they hold her to INSANELY high standards and show how she doesn’t meet them, of course!

Jackie cannot slip up, every instance where she falls short is catalogued as a gotcha moment. She was never allowed to fully develop on the screen because we often get her through the filter of shauna.

She gets deeply depressed, that depression is largely ignored in the show (lottie doesn’t pitch in much either, but her brand of being unwell is observed and understood as existing more so than Jackie’s), and then it is often ignored by viewers (“why didn’t she just come inside, she’s stubborn and dumb!” rather than “wow, look at this consistent descent into deep depression and suicidal ideation we’ve seen since episode 3, culminating in Jackie choosing to stay outside, what can we glean from that?”)

Jackie dies and she is literally consumed in totality—her memory is obscured, the hallucination form of her is filtered through Shauna’s psyche, her corpse is a doll, her flesh is digested. And a photo of her at 18 years old is posted at the 25 year reunion, looking perfect, attached to nothing of her life or who she was, used to facilitate a dance between her ex boyfriend and her best friend, who betrayed her in a way that most people would never get over, (but as we’re shown in the death dream Jackie ultimately would).

Allie literally says, “While I know she isn’t here with us, I know that this is what Jackie would have wanted.” She says that! In the show! To punctuate the absurdity of it all! The very relationship that broke Jackie’s heart, crushed her spirit, destroyed her will to live, being touted as something she would’ve wanted to hundreds of people.

And if that doesn’t strike you as a fucking horrifying tragedy, as emblematic of the reduction of women to whatever those around them need them to be, in order to fit their narrative, in order to be useful to them, then baby this show is sailing over your head.

#jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jackie x shauna #yellowjackets #shauna x jackie #jackieshauna

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hrtsdevils · 5 months

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dog-eared. | jh86

summary reader and jack broke up before he was drafted to the nhl. after years of watching from afar, jack finally sees y/n in person. past feelings are brought up to the surface.

pairing jack hughes x fem!reader

wc 2.6k

an my lovers… also another gracie fc sorry idk what to tell you! also for the sake of the plot pretend that the devils play the ducks on tuesday instead of vancouver thanks!!! loosely based off of everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams

It had been years since you’d seen Jack. You broke up right before he started his NHL career as it seemed like your plans didn’t align. You’d be going to college in California, as USC had been your dream school your whole life. You dreamed of living somewhere where it was sunny and it was never freezing, unlike the weather in your hometown of Toronto. He dreamed of making it big in the professional league, which he was so close to achieving already.

The breakup between you two was mostly mutual. It happened in your 2005 Honda Civic, in the parking lot of a gas station after you had gone to buy soft drinks. The two of you could feel the breakup impending, and it felt as if the weather channel told you a meteor would be hitting Earth within minutes. As if the sun was about to collapse. The silence was deafening as you started your car, putting your drink in the cup holder. He followed suit.

“I..” He started before you cut him off.

“You think we need to break up?” You asked, giving him a soft smile. It wasn’t genuine, it was quite the opposite. You just didn’t want him to feel guilty, you thought it was the right thing as well.

He nodded softly, “I just think we’re on two separate paths… you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Your hands tensed under your thighs, as you were using them as hand warmers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttons.” That had been his nickname for you since the 8th grade. You had a perfect little button nose, and it quickly caught on and everybody would use it for you as well.

The drive back to his parents’ house was in silence, as neither of you had much to say to each other. In about ten minutes, you were parked in front of his house. “You’re still going to come to my birthday party, right?” You asked. You were turning eighteen in a few weeks, June 7th.

“Yeah, I will.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not over. We’re just separating until we get brought back together.”

You huffed, “When’s that? Whenever fate decides?”

“Precisely. Call it a dog ear.. you like to read, right?”

“Yeah, I would never doggy ear my books though.” You giggled, “Bye, Jacky.”

That was the last you talked formally. He never did come to your party, texting you an excuse about how he had a training camp that day. You didn’t believe it, but you never said anything about it. It had been years, you watched him succeed from your dorm room and then to your small apartment couch. Your roommates never understood your love for the sport, but you always attributed it to being from up north.

That was a reason, but not the only one.

Every year you anticipated the Devils coming down to Anaheim to play the Ducks. That was practically the only time you watched Jack in person. You were particularly excited this year, as his little brother Luke would be playing too. You adored Luke, he was so sweet and well-mannered, especially to you. Trevor would also be there. He wouldn’t be playing as he was injured, but you’d caught him after a few games to catch up and he was your little piece of Michigan in California.

It was a Friday game, which met that the tickets were slightly higher and there were fewer of them. You finally got your good friend, Cecilia, to agree to go with you. She was familiar with your love of hockey, and she knew you went to a lot of games. She didn’t know you knew two players on the ice, and two players up in the press box. As you were buying your tickets with her, you got a text from Trevor.

trevor zegras 🐣 : hey buttons r u coming to the game? idk cause jacks playing

You hastily replied, trying to shield your phone from Cece in the most subtle way possible.

y/n buttons : yeahhhh i was jst about to buy my tickets bahaha

trevor zegras 🐣 : don’t buy them ❌❌ i have a club ticket right above the benches if u want it

y/n buttons : usually yes i’d love to but i’m bringing my friend cece

trevor zegras 🐣 : i have 2! i’ll send em to u later

y/n buttons : thanks trev i appreciate u ☺️

You put your phone down and closed your laptop. Cece was a couple feet away on hers, but looked at you when your laptop snapped shut. “Did you buy them?” She questioned, scooting closer to you. You shook your head.

“Kind of? Well, one of my friends is on the team and he’s injured, he offered us seats right behind the bench.”

Her jaw fell slightly, “You never told me you had connections!”

You smiled, “I don’t really, I usually buy my tickets. This was a first time thing, I think he might be drunk.” You tried to explain it in the least suspicious way possible. You didn’t want to seem boastful, but an explaination had to come from somewhere.

You two discussed the arrangements for a couple minutes longer. From outfits to hair to transportation, you were more excited for this game than you had been for any others. Maybe it was because it was Jack’s team, or maybe it was because someone finally seemed to share your admiration for the sport.

Who knows, it was probably the latter.

The day came quick, as it was only a day or two out from your initial conversation. The tickets usually dropped in price right before the game, but luckily you didn’t have to spend the money on it regardless. You lended Cece a Zegras jersey that he got you, while you chose to wear an unnamed 30th anniversary jersey. You still had a few hoodies with Jack’s last name on the back, from his time with USNDTP, but you wouldn’t be wearing those tonight.

You arrived shortly before warm-ups, but when you looked at your section and seat numbers you realized Trevor wasn’t lying about you being right behind the bench. He just never mentioned that it was the away bench. You watched from your seat as the boys entered from the tunnel. They weren’t facing you, but you watched to make sure they didn’t turn around at least not now.

You managed to go a little while without being seen by Luke or Jack, that was until Cecelia got extremely into the game. The Devils had a goal in the late first period, opening up the scoring. Luke was sitting on the bench about a foot to the left of Cece, and once they scored she started banging on the glass.

As he stood up to cheer, he turned around due to the banging. The first thing he did was make eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised, and he blinked as if you’d disappear when his eyes opened. He didn’t say anything as you tried to avoid his gaze, and simply turned back around.

The game continued on, and you didn’t see him say anything to Jack. Soon enough, it was intermission and you felt safer. Like eyes weren’t on you anymore, even though they never were. It went by fairly quickly as the two of you watched the silly halftime games that usually were played by young children. As soon as the Devils came back through the tunnel, Jack turned around and looked at you. He kept sneaking glances as they warmed up again before the start of the second.

The rest of the game wasn’t as fun, as the brunette kept staring at you. As if you couldn’t go to hockey games, his hockey games. As if he couldn’t help looking at you. As if he missed you.

It didn’t help that Cece kept shouting at you, telling you that the cute one kept staring at you and that he wanted you. You knew her best interest was at heart, but she had no idea the magnitude of your situation with said cute one. You entertained her teasing of you, and how she kept pointing at you everytime Jack glanced your way.

By the end of the game you were over it. You wanted to escape and go home before the off chance that you ran into Jack actually happened. It was relieving when you got into the car, but startling when your phone lit up with a single message from Jack. Cece was giggling to herself, looking up one of the cute guys she saw on Instagram. She was oblivious to the situation

jack hughes : hi why were u there

You tried to think of an excuse, but eventually you realized it wouldn’t matter if you told the truth or not.

buttons 🩷 : because i was given tix my trevor.. and i go to a lot of ducks games

jack hughes : oh no other reason?

buttons 🩷 : u think i went for u?

jack hughes : maybe a little. sorry for bothering u buttons.

buttons 🩷 : don’t be sorry. how long are you in anaheim?

jack hughes : tonight n then flying up to seattle

buttons 🩷 : where r u staying?

It was a twenty minute drive back up to your apartment, but with your speeding it was around seventeen. Cece didn’t question your urgency as you dropped her off at your shared apartment, and left immediately after. She was a little bit tipsy. As you drove to the Marriott in Anaheim, you thought about what you were doing.

Throwing away years of peace for the same boy who disrupted it all those years ago. If you started to have feelings for him again, who knows how much you life could be uprooted? Everything could be ruined. All the progress and the getting over Jack. Your Jack. You knew you were risking your own personal journey by going to see him, but at this point you didn’t care.

The hotel receptionist was reluctant to let you up, as she knew who was staying there. The skepticism on her face was present from the very moment you walked in.

“Look, I know him and I know his room number, so can you just let me go up?” You pleaded with hed. Going to a room usually wasn’t necessarily an issue, the issue here was that a sports team was staying. She might’ve thought you were a crazy stalker fan.

As she was about to answer, Jack exited the elevator and spotted you talking to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” He told her, as he walked up to the desk. “Thanks, though.” You had texted him a minute prior about the receptionist, but you didn’t expect him to rush down.

“Hi.” You breathed as you made your way toward the elevator, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good.” He stopped before the elevator, “Would you rather go for a drive? I’m sharing a room with Luke.”

Your story paused in a car, so you were unsure how this would turn out. Maybe it will be different this time. “Sure.” You replied softly.

You two walked to your car in silence. You were about to get in the driver’s seat, but he insisted on driving. “You should drive slow around here, there’s a bunch of cops at night because of drunk college students.” You chuckled, “I’ll tell you when you can speed.”

You buckled up, and he started your car. It was an upgrade from your Honda, being a more recent model of a Nissan. “So, why’d you come to the game?” He asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“I go to a lot of Duck’s games. Trevor plays, of course I go watch him.” You started, “He offered me club tickets, and I figured they were behind his bench. They weren’t, obviously.”

“So you didn’t go for me?” He questioned once again, “I don’t believe that, Buttons.”

You rolled your eyes, “I kind of did. I’ve been while you were playing for the last three years, but I still like hockey in general.”

“I’ll believe that.” The silence sat for a little while as he drove 25 down the city roads, the radio wasn’t even playing. “Do you think we could’ve done long distance?”

You shook your head, “No, not then at least. That’s why we broke it off. Maybe now.” You said the last part quieter, just enough so that if he wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have heard it.

But of course he was paying attention. You were his everything before, and possibly even now.

“Now?” He questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“When we broke up, you said our page was dog-eared. Bookmarked. It was more like a pause until we were ready and mature, or at least that’s how I took it.”

He smiled, “I remember that. Do you think we’re ready and mature?”

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe, just this semester and then I’m done. I chose to graduate a semester early. I could move back east, we could be closer. Even without I think we’d be mature enough for long distance.”

The chances of this moment happening just weeks before you graduated was an alignment of the stars in itself. This could be everything you wanted, without disrupting your peace.

“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me and Luke.” He offered, “To get on your feet, if you come back.”

“Maybe.” You hummed. His hand was resting on the gear shift, even though it was an automatic. You made a move to lay your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

It was a soft step in the right direction. A step to getting the love of your life back, which is what you’d wanted since the minute you broke it off. It’s been a long three years without him, he was your best friend and you intended to make up for the lost time soon enough. You wouldn’t bring up how he never contacted you either, because it was far in the past. You were both kids at the time and you can’t hold a grudge about that.

As he re-entered the hotel parking lot, you smiled at him. Your hands were now intertwined on top of the cup holder region, and you never wanted to let go. His hand was more rugged than before, matured and weathered, but it was still a comfort you had missed. He dropped it to shift the car into park.

“So, I’ll see you soon then?” He asked, as you got ready to get out. 45 minutes had passed between getting into the car and now. You conversed about your current life and your future. Your future together.

You nodded, “Yeah, hopefully. Keep in touch, okay? No ghosting me.” You stepped out of the car and walked around to the driver's side as he got out as well.

The two of you shared a hug, but exchanged little words. You could hear the cars around you, and the sounds of the city were still alive. “Bye, Jack.” You released him from your embrace.

“Bye, Buttons.” He smiled, “I’ll text you.” He turned around and walked back to the hotel as you watched, a smile gracing your features as well.

You’d love him forever, whether you got back together or not. You believed he felt the same. You were glad that Trevor had known about the seating on the tickets, and made sure they got to you. You were also glad Luke saw and recognized you. You were excited to see him. The end was over, and the new start was just beginning.

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marionthegeek · 6 months

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Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd. It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain. Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7. The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We need to go back to the beginning of season 2. The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate. He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe. I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans. So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head. Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot. So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius, and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies.

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean. It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple. Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5. He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.” Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids. Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit. Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”. He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times. Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s. Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew. Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However, Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”. The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all. The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack. Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn. We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending. Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending. But really Ed is still off finding himself, Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does. Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season. I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy. IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #stede bonnet #gravy basket #Izzy Hands lives #David Jenkins I just want to talk

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scribble-dribble-writes · 5 months

Text

The boy with the freckles

Pairing: Alex Walter x female reader

Context: Alex is in college but his past still haunts him and then he meets you

>>>

———

Being fifteen felt like yesterday, but it was years ago.

Alex woke up with a groan, the new day didn’t bring anything new. It reminded him of his past more than he would have liked. In his last year at college, he felt the scars of his teens come alive to haunt him.

It was tumultuous and panic filled, nightmares of that moment he came to know Jackie had left without a word. His ability to place his trust in people had faded because if his own brother could betray him time and time again, why wouldn’t a stranger?

He squinted his eyes at the sunlight that crept through into his dark room. He dragged his cover over his head. It was hard work, getting to silence the thoughts in his head. He was a work in progress, he was aware of all the areas he had to be mindful of.

He had to remind himself he was his own person. He had to become secure, to know that he was enough as he is. That the love he gave away for free was actually priceless. That Kylie breaking off their friendship was so she could heal and he had no control over it. He had to come to terms with it, that life changed and so should he.

This dorm room felt huge or maybe it only felt like that since he was alone. He didn’t have Nathan sharing his room or Isaac yelling down the hallway. He could just rot beneath these sheets and no one would know.

But as he slumped in his bed, contemplating if he should skip calculus, there was a knock on the door.

He let it pass. Most cases it would be other students coming by to drop invitations to parties. But there was another knock and he pulled away his blanket to see the faint slit of shadow underneath the door.

“Who is it?”, he yelled out to see the shadow feet shuffle before answering.

“Sorry to bother you but I was told to meet you if I wanted to join the gaming club.”, he heard a voice.

He got out of bed in an instant. He would recognise that tone anywhere. He searched for a shirt as he pulled it over his head to then run past the mirror to make sure his face was alright.

It wasn’t, his hair was a mess, the sunlight had made his freckles stand out. On days like these he wished he looked more like Cole. The only ‘effect’ he had with people was off putting.

“I’ll probably come by another time.”, he heard the dejection in your voice as you began to move away and it threw him into overdrive.

He couldn’t care less about his appearance.

He reached for the door knob and yanked it open, his muddy green eyes catching yours. His throat ran dry, he froze.

He felt like he was fifteen again, not twenty three.

He watched you like he was trying to memorise the brush strokes on a painting he could never get up close. The dark curls of your hair, the deep tan in your skin, the flush of colour in your cheeks and your magnetic eyes.

There he stood, as though life had thought him nothing.

He didn’t know what to say.

He noticed you look away and the skeletons in his closet broke loose.

He was unravelling, his mind convincing him that you could see right through him.

He had to act fast, to work through this, so he stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Alex Walter.”, he winced as he said it. He could see himself from your gaze. He sounded stupid.

But to his surprise, you took his hand.

“I know.”, you replied as your fingers wrapped around his palm.

“You’re the boy with the freckles.”, he heard you say and it made his cheeks flush.

“Ah yes, my only defining quality.”, he sighed as his smile faded.

He knew where this was going. It reminded him of who he wasn’t like. That this was his effect.

He let go of your hand as he folded his arms, he couldn’t help it, the way his body became defensive, ready to hide away.

He had done this before, give away his best in the hopes of a little attention so now he fought against it.

“Makes me stick out like a sore thumb.”, he shrugged his shoulders as he caught the change in your expression.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to be rude.”, you panicked. He was taller than you with his toned arms crossed across his chest. You could tell the glimmer in his eye had vanished, now he looked at you as though he was seeing a ghost.

“I..”, you had lost your words. Where had all your confidence gone?

Your gaze shifted to catch a glimpse of him. His bed head hair mussed like he was a crazy scientist, his eyes reminding you of the meadows back home and his freckles that haunted your dreams, tempting you to reach up and touch his cheek.

“I just think it makes you look beautiful.”, you said, not realising the step you had taken towards him or that his eyes softened with that glow again.

His gaze dipped to your lips just as you looked up to see him.

He was incorrigible, just like his brother. Cause here he was feeling that blissful sense of warmth fill his heart as much as he had tried to run from it.

“Do you?”, he whispered before he could catch himself

“I…”, you were about to respond to his question when he shifted his weight and the moment broke.

“Do you want to come by to a club event today?”, he changed the question.

You thought it was for the best. Alex Walter deserved someone who wasn’t a wreck like you.

He was a coward. All those moments of convincing himself to build up his courage to take on a new adventure had all boiled down to nothing, cause truth be told he was scared.

He was scared of all the love he held for you.

#alex walter #my life with the walter boys #Alex Walter x you #Alex Walter fix #Alex Walter x reader

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freedomfireflies · 6 months

Text

Tease Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.

But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.

(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)

Word Count: 9.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp

“Holy…shit.”

The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.

You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.

The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.

He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.

Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”

You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”

“Mhm.”

“And…big.”

“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”

“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”

“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”

“That’s fair.”

Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”

You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”

“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs.

With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion.

“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”

Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”

Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”

“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”

“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”

Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”

“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”

“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”

“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”

The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”

“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”

“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.

Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”

The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.

It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky.

With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.

Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.

“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”

“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”

“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”

“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”

“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”

“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”

Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.

With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”

You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”

You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.

The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms.

The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint.

You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora.

“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.

Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”

Confused, you blink. “What?”

“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.

And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.

Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”

You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”

With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”

Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory.

He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.

The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves.

You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.

You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.

“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.

Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”

He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”

“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”

You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”

He laughs. “Yeah?”

“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”

“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”

You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”

He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”

“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”

“Yeah? And how are we?”

“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”

He grins. “Of course.”

“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”

“Mm.”

“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”

He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”

“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”

He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”

“Me, either.”

You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.

Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.

Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”

You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”

“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”

“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”

He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”

“Yeah…”

He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”

“What?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”

Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”

“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”

You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”

“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”

“Right.”

He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”

Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.

But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”

He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”

You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”

He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.

“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”

And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”

“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”

“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”

And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”

He smirks. “Thanks.”

With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.

But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.

And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.

A passageway.

You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.

You look to Harry.

Harry looks to you.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”

Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”

Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”

“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”

“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”

“Well, you know I like it when you do.”

And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more.

“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”

He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good boy.”

He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs.

The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.

Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house.

Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.

Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.

Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”

You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”

You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail.

Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You glance over.

“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”

And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.

Everything.

You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”

He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist.

“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”

You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”

Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”

His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”

Together.

You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours.

“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”

You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes.

“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”

And you know – you know he means it.

Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible.

Show him exactly how much he means to you.

The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.

He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.

“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”

And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.

“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”

He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”

Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”

And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable.

He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait.

“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”

“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.

“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.

“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”

A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”

So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees.

“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.

Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance.

It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind.

Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.

He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.

You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.

You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.

His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”

“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”

“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”

“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”

Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.

And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.

But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little.

Because you know he loves it.

Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.

Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.

You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.

Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.

You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”

You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.

“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”

“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”

“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”

“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”

He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”

You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.

“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.

You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”

Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”

He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”

And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.

So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon.

And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.

Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.

“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”

You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”

“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”

“I’m…I…”

“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”

Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.

Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”

And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.

But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.

“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”

You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.

“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him.

Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.

You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.

With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.

He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.

His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.

“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”

Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.

“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”

His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch.

He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.

He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.

You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.

He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.

The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.

You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”

But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.

“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”

He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”

You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”

“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”

And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.

With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”

“You already have me.”

You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”

His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”

He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.

“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself.

You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches.

His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.

“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”

He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.

He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.

Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”

You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto.

“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”

Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants.

“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”

“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”

A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.

“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”

You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp.

“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”

Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.

Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.

“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”

You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure.

And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed.

Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.

And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.

For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.

But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing.

“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”

“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”

“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”

They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.

Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.

You look, too.

The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.

Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…

He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”

You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.

But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”

But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.

Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.

And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.

So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away.

You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.

Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon.

And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.

You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.

But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.

Your everything.

And that’s what makes him so beautiful.

When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours.

“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”

You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief.

Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.

When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.

“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”

Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.

You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.

And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.

He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.

He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished.

The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out.

And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.

You want to keep him the same way.

“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”

You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”

He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”

And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.

You hum.

“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”

You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure.

“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”

But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame.

He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”

You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave.

“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”

“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.

The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”

He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”

With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes.

He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.

He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”

Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.

“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”

You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing.

In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”

Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.

He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”

You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”

There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”

“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”

Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”

“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”

You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”

It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.

It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”

A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”

He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”

“Really?

He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”

Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”

“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.

“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”

And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”

He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”

Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.

Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”

Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.

You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell.

And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.

After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.

Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”

He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.

You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.

You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.

“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”

“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”

“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”

“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”

“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”

To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.

“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”

The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car.

He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.

As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.

You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”

You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”

Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”

And your heart has never felt so full.

“Happy Halloween, Harry.”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

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orphicdreamers-wp · 4 months

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Oh Baby — Quinn Hughes

Summary: In which you go into labor in another state unsure if your husband will be there to meet your daughter with you

Content Warnings; Labor, Cussing, Needles

Pairing; Husband! Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader

“I’m gonna kill him! Jack, I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother!” Jack rubbed your back reassuringly, “I know honey. But you can wait to kill him until after my perfect niece is here, right?” You gripped the sleeve of your brother in law’s t-shirt, “If you don’t stop talking Jack, I’ll you first!” A plethora of pain coursed through your body as another contraction ripped through you. Jack gritted his teeth as you clawed his hand.

Jack had always been the one of your two brothers in law that you were closer to, majority of that being the closeness in your ages comparatively to you and Luke. You were 3 years older than Jack and 5 years older than Luke. So you and Jack were closer friends. So when your water broke as you were meeting a realtor for a potential new location for your chain of restaurants, you called Jack knowing he was less than 3 hours away in Washington while Quinn was on his way back from Boston. You had checked into the hospital and gotten situated by the time Jack got to the hospital.

He rushed in holding your hospital bag for the baby, a bag for yourself and another bag of stuff for Quinn. He had called Quinn and reassured his older brother that you were okay, although Quinn could hear you cussing at your ob as she gave you an epidural block. Quinn assured his younger brother that he would be back in time to meet his daughter with you. As time progressed you began to lose hope.

You were in hysterics as you were finally pushing, “Jack I’m scared. What if I’m not cut out to be a mom? I mean I’m only 25 and we just got married. I’m scared that me and Quinn won’t work out.” Jack held your hand somehow tighter, “You are the most amazing person I know, you always know what to say Y/N, you are going to be a perfect mom. And you and Quinn are like a damn rom-com movie. You will be okay, the minute you see your baby girl you will know.” You sobbed as you forced another push, “Thank you.”

The door opened and Quinn rushed in, “I’m here! I may have a ticket but I’m here.” You looked up at your husband, “You made it.” Quinn pressed a soft kiss against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Your OBGYN smiled, “Hey Mr Hughes, you made it just in time. Give me one more push and you’ll have your perfect girl.” You clutched Quinn’s hand, unaware of Jack who had taken out a digital camcorder and had started to record you and Quinn’s faces as you let out a groan and clutched Quinn’s hand as you pushed.

You collapsed back when you heard it, your newborn daughter’s cries. You felt your heart clench as the OBGYN spoke, “So dad, do you wanna do the honors?” Quinn’s eyes welled with happy tears as he nodded, “Your damn right I do.” Quinn took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord. With the doctors okay, Quinn held your daughter oh so carefully and placed her on your chest. You reached your finger out and your heart shattered and somehow felt more filled as your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped around your finger, “She’s perfect. Look at her Quinn. That’s all us.”

Quinn melted into you, “She might be the girl I love most in the world now.” Jack smiled with teary eyes, “So what’s my new best friends name?” You smiled at your daughter, “Lorelei Jacqueline Hughes. After my mom and my girls alleged best uncle.” Jack grinned at his newborn niece, “Rory Jackie Hughes. You are so perfect, and you lucked out in the parent department. You have the best mommy ever. Your daddy is alright.”

You smiled weakly at your husband, “I have never loved two people this much. This is the best and most fulfilling experience of my life. I love you Quinn Hughes, with all I am.” Quinn kissed you softly, “I love you too Y/N Hughes, will everything in my heart.”

#hockey player x reader #fanfic #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #jh86 #lh44 #qh43 #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #mom #dad #newborn baby

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trashmouth-richie · 5 months

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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you’re living… you find it hard to trust him again.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut. no use of y/n reader has a name that’s introduced in the first chapter, and another “nickname” that is lightly used throughout this series. eddie also has a nickname given by reader.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this series switches pov’s between reader and eddie, thank you to @succubusmunson @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me read through the first chapter, helped me brainstorm etc i love you

there are two easter eggs in this let me know if you catch em! like pokémon only not

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: here i come, but i ain’t the same

masterlist

Stupid fucking bitch.

One dial tone waned into another, a monotonous wave taunting you from the end of the receiver. Your fingers tap impatiently against the counter. How long could a phone actually ring before it stopped or someone finally answered?

Too damn long apparently.

Giving up and counting your losses, you slam the receiver back on the wall, muttering more choice words as you skirt your hips behind the wooden bar, thumbing through the blue lined notebook schedule.

Work was packed. More-so than any other Friday night, but since it was the beginning of graduation weekend for Hawkins High— every Sam, Dick, and Harry had wandered into the bar looking for a cheap escape and a sugary drink.

Lucky for them, that was exactly what Queen of Hearts had on the menu. And if you talked to the right person, the luck didn’t stop there.

“No answer?” Jolene called over her shoulder, hands full with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Scribbling an angry dark mark through the name Ginger on the schedule, you toss the notebook back into the drawer shutting it with your hip.

“Just rang and rang,” you say, annoyingly jumping in to help her finish pouring three Jack & Cokes. The soda fizzes under your thumb, “and before you try to cover for her, this is the fourth time she’s done this.”

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, taking the cans from you and tossing them into the trash.

“Really thought this one would work out,” her long legs cross behind you to slot the liquor bottle back in its designated spot, “she had kids.. poor thing needed the cash.”

The familiar ache of neglect radiated through you, “I found a babysitter for the nights she was working, told her I’d help pay… that asshole she keeps around probably found out she was working here.”

Jolene raises her eyebrows. Her slender fingers hold the three drinks with ease, setting them on a tray.

“Can’t believe Jackie skipped town with that rich salesman,” she sighs heavily, leaning an elbow on the sticky bar, “lucky girl, something like that would never happen to me.”

Jealousy pings in your chest but you shake it off, “he was really dreamy huh? Those beauty marks? His hair? His ass?” You wolf whistle, “cut me a slice.”

You weren’t jealous that Jackie was now probably driving a BMW, that her life would be nothing but luxurious from here on out, or even that her boyfriend was movie star hot.

What made your blood boil over was the fact that she got out, and you were still stuck here like hardened gum underneath a table.

The club was a part of you. Like an unwanted birthmark, this lifestyle was something you couldn’t get away from. Understanding at a young age, when most girls were playing with dolls, just exactly the kind of life you were destined to live, and unfortunately it wasn’t outside of these four walls.

“Your time will come,” Jolene smiled, looking into a compact and wiping a smudge of lipstick from her teeth, “you’re still young, Miss Assistant.”

You rolled your eyes, placing the tray on her awaiting palm. Since Jackie was gone, her job was now yours. Tacking on added responsibilities with no pay raise in sight. You found out all too soon what a fucking joke that title of ‘assistant’ actually was.

“Told him I didn’t want it, but you know how that went.”

“I do kid,” she sighs, looking down at you, her eyes sweeping over the still pink scar in your eyebrow, “I really… oh honey, you’re gonna be a busy little bee tonight!”

You breathe heavily through your nose, dragging your hands down your face, “don’t remind me.”

“I’ll help out wherever, ‘kay?”

Jolene had taken you under her wing when you first walked into Queen of Hearts. Freshly eighteen almost down to the hour, naive waters brimming your eyes, forced into this life.

Her motherly ways comforted everyone, only thirty-three but in this industry that was practically ninety. Just like you, Jolene had deep roots in this place.

Her tall frame slinks over to the waiting guys sitting at the stage, a pleasant smile on her lips. Twirling the ends of her black hair twisted into schoolgirl pigtails, laying the charm on thick.

Staring over at her in a forlorn gaze, you hated to think of yourself still here ten years from now, a permanent fixture to this place, like Jolene. The lemons of life were squeezed and you had made the lemonade, but it was sour, bitter.. you longed for something sweeter.

The bubbly fantasy is popped when Mickey Fritz’ oversized hand hits the counter like he’s a toddler in a highchair.

“Hey sugar tits, I’m empty o’er here!”

Your nightmare reality comes back into view.

The walls at Queen of Hearts were draped in deep shades of red velour, a cozy ambiance to invite strangers and locals alike. The bar was backlit and stocked with a decent selection of polished bottles of whiskey, gin and bourbon.

His boots clapped along the wood floor as the pair walked further inside, leaving a plume of smoke in their wake, catching on the neon lights and creating a smoked crimson haze across the dark club.

The raised stage was centered, creating an aisle on either side of it, clad with leather backed red chairs surrounding it at every angle. For a night club in the middle of Indiana, it wasn’t half bad compared to the places he was used to out East.

A row of booths were tucked onto the left side of the club, high top tables stood crowded with drunk college students, yelling loudly and making asses of themselves to impress the working girls.

The music blaring over the speakers was a little cliche and too “pop” for his liking—fuck, had he really turned into one of those guys, questioning what a strip club was playing for music?

He rolls his eyes at his own false pretentiousness, turning it into a wink at a cocktail waitress carrying a tray full of plastic flutes filled with a gut rot of pink liqueur. The gold thong she was wearing sat high on her hips, matching the cheap glittery cowboy hat on her blonde curls.

Dark eyes follow her long legs to a nearby table, a fist to his mouth as he whistles and licks his chomps.

“Damn! Can you believe this used to be the Hideout?” Jeff squawked, not so casually adjusting himself as they slid into an open booth, “that was Gareth Emerson’s twin sister, she really grew up huh, remember him?”

He didn’t.

Much like anyone else Jeff had tried to bring up since he had agreed to meet up for a drink on the occasion that they were both home, he hadn’t given high school a second thought since the night he left.

“Nah, man,” he said, grabbing for the sticky menu on the black table top, “I don’t.”

It had been years since he had seen Jeff, and he was surprised that he had recognized him at the gas station last night when he was filling up his motorcycle.

His own appearance hadn’t changed much, dressed a little better, wore cologne now, normal shit that came along with getting out of puberty.

Back then Jeff still had braces, a small lisp when he got really drunk. Now, he was a grown man. Living in Phoenix with a big important job at some company, home for the weekend to visit his parents, and watch his youngest brother graduate.

There would be no visiting family or old friends for him on this trip back to Hawkins. The thought of running into anyone he knew and having that painfully awkward small talk about the ‘good old days as a Tiger!’ made him cringe, as if that ever were the case for him.

Having left this shit hole in the middle of the night seven years ago, he took nothing with him but some saved cash, his guitar, a full tank of gas and the clothes on his back.

The heavy ache in his chest, brim filled with remorse, was an added carry on, something that didn’t go away with the miles he had put between him and Hawkins.

He had planned to keep this town in the rearview, but life, probably karma, had other plans.

Back in Hawkins strictly on “business,” that's what he told Jeff when the smiley old friend grabbed him into a bear hug in the checkout line, crushing the chips he was carrying to a powder in its aluminum bag.

Technically, it was family business. But he hadn’t mentioned that to Jeff. He didn’t want the questions, didn’t want the pity.

He barely even knew his uncle that well anyway, but being the only living relative of the deceased, he didn’t have a choice when the call came through that he had passed.

A week. That was the timeframe he told his job that he’d be gone for. Leaving just enough time to plan the funeral, and sell the trailer.

Coming home to the haunting shadows of Hawkins was like playing in a graveyard filled with demons of his past. Sorrow filled every dark corner, looming around him like a fog, making him unable to forget the damage left behind.

For years it had worked out fine, he had moved on. But every now and then, he had to push his inner demons down, and still to this day, years after the fact, they kept trying to crawl back up. The shame of his past coming to the forefront.

The music changes to another upbeat song that was popular on the radio, Jeff nods along to the beat, strumming his fingers against his belly like he was playing the guitar.

He looked over at his old highschool friend and smiled for the first time since being back here, “still play?”

Jeff stretched a wide grin across his face, chuckling a little too loud, “only in my dreams… working seventy-hour weeks doesn’t really allow me to have that kinda freedom.” He nodded and smiled a little at the waitress who was coming to take their drink orders, “so what have you been up to man? It’s been years!”

He knew all too well about not having free time to spend the way he had wanted to. He didn’t even own a guitar anymore. The last time he saw his Warlock, it was sitting in a pawn shop in Nashville— the last of his many possessions sold to make ends meet.

Ordering a beer, he counts his budget for this trip in his head, deciding to buy Jeff’s drink too. Maybe being back wouldn’t be so bad after a drink or two, a little liquid courage to get him through the night at least.

The pleather seat creaks beneath his weight when he leans back further into the booth, stretching his arms out wide. Trying to gain a sliver of comfort since being home.

Working the pole to Ginger’s song of choice, Once Bitten, Twice Shy, you found it hard to get into music you could care less about. But you didn’t have time to complain.

Legs crossed and spinning upside down, bare besides a face full of makeup and a red thong, you pretended that you were anywhere else but there.

How nice it would be to not have to crawl across dirty dollar bills, teasing a faceless man with your body so that he would be eager enough to slip a twenty into your g-string.

Collecting your tips from your set, you tap them against your vanity in the dressing room, counting out loud your mind already knowing how much money will be put away after bills are paid.

The long jagged crack in your mirror served as the only looking glass you liked to look in. The warped shapes of your face looking back at you made it easier to swallow the life you were living, as if it were a fever dream, a disturbed Alice in Wonderland type reality.

In the mirror you weren’t a dancer at Queen of Hearts. You could be a nurse, a librarian, a cook in a shitty home town restaurant who went home smelling like grease instead of men’s cologne and wearing suspicious stains.

It could be easy, simple really. Bus tickets weren’t terribly expensive. Going to any city, a map in your hand and the saved coffee can of cash tucked into your purse. You could almost imagine the taste of the ocean. The thought of even stepping outside of Indiana was enough to power you for the rest of the night.

As easily as the daydream came it fluttered away when the boss stepped into the dressing room.

His eyes loomed in a dead stare, sweat pooling on his temples. The ice in his glass shifted as it melted into the whiskey. A Colombian cigar tucked into his fat mouth had an inch long ash waiting to fall.

He wasn’t much taller than you, barely older, but his attitude and small dick made him seem eight feet tall.

“The hell are you doing in here? Fucking Christ woman, the girls are drowning out there, those needle dick college fucks are about to swing fists and you’re in here staring at yourself?”

“Just takin’ a little break Tommy, I gotta change.”

“I don’t need any lip from you, better watch it before I match that other scar y’ hear me?”

His threats didn’t scare you, it was who he answered to that made you terrified. A bad report to the big boss and you’d be drinking your meals through a straw. You knew because it’s already happened. Turns out you don’t need your mouth to swing around a pole.

“Loud and clear.”

This type of life was the only one you had ever known. You quite literally grew up with this environment right under your nose, and everyone at the club knew it.

The romance novels you kept in your purse were full of knights in shining armor type of men, another fallacy to your looking glass.

The thought of anything else was only real in your daydreams. Escaping the festering wound of Hawkins was impossible, almost unheard of. No one with your background got out.

But he did.

Shoulder to shoulder, squeezing in sideways with grimy singles fisted in their hands, the club was stuffed to the hilt with sweaty, drunk, and extremely horny men.

“… here!” you slam two more drinks onto the heaping tray and shove it into Wendy’s hands, “take this to those asshats and tell them we are out of triple sec, no more Long Island Ice Teas, if they want a drink they can order beer like everyone else.”

Wendy swung her hips with the Long Islands in tow over to soften the hearts of the college boys. Batting her lashes, sitting topless on their laps and letting them tell her stories of the parties they went to, the classes they skipped and the girls they fucked. Anything to keep them from hollering and starting a fight with the locals.

Lisa Ann was working over the business men from out of town, their briefcases shining with a matte patent leather, expensive watches adorning their wrists. Her pretty Marilyn Monroe smile on display as she brought over their drinks, tussling their hair between her pink fingernails, putty at her fingertips.

Between the rest of you rotating between pouring drinks, collecting payments and trying to wiggle past the grabby hands of Donny, the roar of the busy hour had started to lull.

All of you were tired and crabby, legs cramping and toes pinched in uncomfortable shoes. Jolene wiped her brow and blew out a deep breath.

“Take fifteen,” you said to her, “I got it from here.”

She shot you a wink and disappeared into the dressing room.

Peeling the soles of your boots from the floor you lean your back against the shelf of liquor bottles. Working your hands on the base of your neck behind your head.

The usual crink that ached when you were stressed was flaring up again. Causing your shoulders to tense up and sending a pinched dull ache from your back up to your throbbing temples. Radiating your jaw, with a heat so fierce it could melt glass and it wasn’t even eleven o’ clock yet.

Your eyes are pressed closed in a tight squeeze, maybe you could shut the pain out by pretending it wasn’t there.

“Tiffs just about done in room D,” Veronica chirped, her bracelets jingling in a metallic tune, “the ‘doctor’ again,” she explains with air quotes chuckling to herself.

“He’s only here on nights she’s workin’” you say exhaustedly, “she’s his favorite.”

Being one of the few regulars that wasn’t married, he was somehow the slimiest worm in the dirt. Tall and slender framed with icy white hair, he seemed to stare down his nose at the girls, his voice an eerily calm when he asked for Tiff, handing over the crisp fifties to secure her for the allotted amount of time.

Beads click together as she stumbles in from the back, adjusting her lipstick and holding the ripped strap of her bra, followed behind her like clockwork was the doctor, tucking his oxford shirt into his slacks.

Your jaw felt like it was going to ignite, as if it were covered in tension rods and the gears were cranking it tighter and tighter, sweat beginning to form on your back, “can you hand me my purse?”

Rustling your bag from underneath the bar, Veronica hands over the canvas tote, her emerald eyes staring at you expectantly like a serpent watching its prey, “care to share those little party favors?”

Rolling your eyes, you move your hand through the contents inside. Pushing past a checkbook, lipsticks, and the papered corner of a tampon. Finally your fingers close around the smooth unlabeled bottle.

Two tablets land in your palm when you pop the cap, and you shake it begrudgingly to release another tablet from the bottle for Veronica.

She giggles and grabs two shot glasses, pouring bourbon into them both.

“Only one,” you instruct, a serious look in your eyes, “I’m not picking you up from the floor later.”

A coy little smile on her lips, she brings the shot glasses over, handing one to you, “you worry too much.”

Placing the pill in her free palm, you clink the glasses together in a little cheer.

“To us,” Veronica grins, “may our titties stay perky, our asses juicy, the boys pockets fat and our kitties not loosey.”

You roll your eyes and she laughs, her lips close around the glass the same as yours, and you swallow down the liquor, wincing at the taste.

Within fifteen minutes the temporary high coats your brain like a warm blanket, floating you to a place far away from shiny poles, 6 inch heels, and ass slaps, away from Hawkins.

Jeff listens intently as he explains a very bland and watered down version of how he left Hawkins and traveled east, working odd jobs.

Skipping the part about how he lied about his age to find work, and how he spent an entire month getting his ass kicked after dishwashing shifts at some swanky restaurant outside of Raleigh.

He explained the good stuff, how he worked part time at a tattoo shop for one of his buddies he met in Philly. His full time gig being a lead shift at a factory.

It wasn’t that impressive, he knew that, but he couldn’t make himself give a shit what anyone thought of him. For only being twenty-three, he was proud of having a paycheck every two weeks from a legit place.

The click of the waitresses shoes on the floor had Jeff looking up, thanking her for the drinks. She was dressed a little more conservative than the other waitresses had been, wearing a black mini skirt and a see-through red long sleeved top, showing off black sparkly stickers that covered her nipples.

But that wasn’t what had him taking a second look. At first glance he thought maybe it was just a note written in pen, a reminder of some sort on the top of her hand, lots of people wrote on their hands right? But when she set the drinks down, reaching past them and across the table to grab a napkin, sopping up spilled beer, he almost choked on air.

It wasn’t something written in pen, or a weird unlucky shaped birthmark. The marks on her hand were two small symbols, they had faded with time and were blown out a little on the edges.

Of course they were, because the identical marks on his hand were blurred the exact same way. Two little symbols, done on the hottest day in July. The smell of his childhood room stung his nose as he thought of that day.

A day when you were both only thirteen.

The regulars were bellied up to the bar holding an aluminum can toast to their long gone friend, hollering for you to play some David Allen Coe in a final goodbye.

Flicking through the jukebox to find “Never Even Called Me By My Name,” you were too busy to pay any attention to the toast of the deceased buddy.

Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been completely blindsided.

“Clovie?” A disgustingly sweet saccharine voice laced between bubble gum pink lips sang out from behind you, tapping you simultaneously on the shoulder, “be a dolly and run the drinks over to table 8, would ya?”

“Why c—”

Tiff was already gone, the door to the dressing room swinging shut in a shower of White Diamond perfume before you could even spin around and tell her where she could shove those aforementioned drinks.

Outside of collecting her own tips, and pleasuring the doctor, Tiff never lifted a finger to help.

Wiping your hands on the cleanest towel you could find, your muttering goes unheard as you cross back over to the bar and grab the cracked black plastic tray set with two large overflowing mugs of draft beer.

The ground was sticky under your boots, like walking in half dried paint, sometimes you wondered if Wendy actually served a full drink to anyone.

Balancing the heavy tray on your palm and shoulder, you pray that it won’t snap before you’re able to place the drinks down.

Table 8 was occupied by a guy you had seen before but couldn’t remember from where, and a long dark curly haired woman who was facing away from you.

The smile on your face was the fakest one you could make, hoping to maybe get a good tip before Tiff could notice and take her claim.

“Alrighty,” your customer service voice sang with a false sweet sincerity, “looks like we have two Busch Lights?”

The guy you had greeted smiled eagerly, moving his elbows from the table allowing room for the frosty mugs to be placed.

Your fingers work gingerly to set the ruby colored drink napkins down first. The beer was placed carefully, his greedy fingers grabbing the handle before you could barely remove your hand from it.

The second beer started to slide on the tray, and you over corrected causing it to land with a thud on the table, sloshing the pale ale all over the table—luckily not on the woman.

So much for a tip, huh?

Apologizing quickly, you lean across the table and reach for the paper napkins. Wiping up the mess hastily you toss the wet heap onto your tray.

Turning to the woman to offer her a look that’ll hopefully get you in her good graces— well enough that maybe her husband would reconsider tipping, “I’ll go fetch a rag and come back with another beer free of charge sweetheart,” you start to smile sheepishly, “I’m so s—”

The eyes you were met with were the deepest shade of brown, struck with astonishment, crowded by a grove of thick lashes, a look of dismay etched into them.

Blinking once, twice, you couldn’t register if you were truly seeing this or hallucinating.

You hadn’t seen those eyes in years, a flash of recognition drops on your face and the perky smile fades. Heart falling to the well of your stomach, punching the air from your lungs, heat rising to the surface of your cheeks.

In an instant, you’re brought back to many years before tonight. When those eyes were younger, full of teenage angst and rebellion.

Hell must’ve froze over, pigs were without a doubt flying overhead: Eddie Munson had returned to Hawkins.

taglist: @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @winchester-angel @mrsjellymunson @joannamuns9n @tlclick73 @mewchiili @spacedoutdaydreamer @emxxblog @maybeisthemoon @str4ngergirlw0rld @chrrymunson @insertcoolnameherethanks @kellsck @prestinalove @mandyjo8719 @onegirlmanytales @mopeymopeymouse @veravee-blog @taintedcigs @eddies-acousticguitar @oeuryale @kthomps914 @bangaveragewhitewine @lil-quinnie @corrodedcoffincumslut @definitionwanderlust @madaboutjoe @littledemondani @eiightysixbaby @usedtobecooler

#eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things

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sc0tters · 7 months

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Date Gone Right | Nico Hischier & Jack Hughes

summary: when you call Jack to come pick you up the last thing you expected to see was your hinge match in the car.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (m receiving), swearing, degrading (think you see whore and slut a few times).

word count: 2.90k

authors note: I loved this one and it kind of felt like a moment where I acc got more plot than I usually do to the porn. Brynn and Kei I hope this lived up to your expectations!

You felt like an idiot as you sat on the side of the road.

The bar had music that faintly calmed your nerves as you scrolled through your phone desperate to find a contact that you could call.

Your friends simply weren’t an option as they told you that you were an idiot going to see your ex. He had asked you to meet him at a bar to talk and like an idiot you went to see that he wasn’t there.

A gasp left your lips as your eyes landed on Jack’s contact “perfect.” The relationship you built with Jack this year was weird, beforehand he was only ever Trevor’s best friend but recently you found yourself leaning on the boy more as you were a mere fifteen minutes away from him.

What you didn’t know was that Jack was hosting poker night with some of his teammates “you gonna get that?” John furrowed his eyebrows as his attention was pulled to the sound of Jack’s phone ringing.

The Hughes boy flipped his phone over before he quickly answered it “hey y/n?” His voice was alarmed as he heard your tears “yeah I’ll be there in ten minutes just send me your location.” The hockey players that sat around the table all grew confused.

Before anyone could ask Jack realised the biggest problem “my car is in the shop!” He groaned quickly trying to call you back “I can drive you?” Nico offered still not knowing exactly where he was going.

And that was how the black Land Rover landed up in front of you as you sat on the sidewalk “Jackie?” Your voice was soft as the boy pulled his hoodie from his arms to give to you “c’mon.” Jack sighed helping you up as he ushered you to the car.

Nico smiled seeing you in the rear view as the car door opened “Neeks!” You gasped sending the boy a toothy grin.

It was safe to say that Jack was taken aback by your positive attitude towards his captain “I don’t remember you two being this friendly the last time I saw you.” Jack blurted out buckling up his seatbelt as you did the same.

You ran your tongue over your teeth “cappy over here has hinge.” You smirked as you had matched with him on the app a little over two weeks ago.

The two of you were doing well so far but tonight you two were meant to go out before the boy canceled last minute “see you found something else to do.” Nico’s voice was delicate but you didn’t miss how his hands squeezed the wheel.

Jack sat in his seat feeling like he was intruding as he stared at the road ahead “you coming back to mine princess?” The Hughes boy watched as your eyes never left his teammates “Nico coming with?” The look in your eyes was dangerous.

But like a moth to a flame Nico couldn’t help to soak in everything you said like it was nothing “go wherever you want me to.” The captain tapped his fingers on the dash as he was evidently calmer than before.

The remainder of the drive was quiet as Jack swore he was going to throw up watching you and Nico send each other those lingering glances.

And he thought would have gotten better as you two got upstairs but as you swirled your glass of whiskey Nico smiled as he listened to whatever Jack rambled on about an upcoming game.

His phone cut him off as it began to ring “I’ll be a sec.” Jack mumbled watching as you two nodded letting him leave into another room.

Nico didn’t take long to turn to you “you had a good time tonight?” It was clear that his jealousy was now raging again as he stared at your pretty little outfit.

You smirked “would have preferred being with you.” Your confession was clear as you used your hand to rub up his leg.

The gesture was soft but he knew all about your true intentions “at least you would have shown.” You smirked as his hand tensed around your wrist.

He sucked at his teeth “baby you gotta stop.” Nico warned “I don’t think I can behave in the way Jack is going to want me to.” His voice shook as his patience began to waver.

When you shut the gap between you both his breathing grew heavy “what are you gonna do when I tell you I don’t want you to behave.” Maybe it was the way he looked at you but as you pressed a kiss against the shell of his ear you felt like the most confident woman around “god you’re going to be the death of me.” Nico confessed turning his head to face yours “fuck you’re gorgeous.” He blurted out letting his lips go over yours as he kissed you.

It was hungry as the hockey player pulled you onto his lap “pretty little girl.” He blurted out taking the moment to breathe before his lips were back fighting with yours “didn’t think I was going to talk in on something.” Jack leaned against the frame of the door as he watched you pull your swollen lips away from his teammate.

The devilish grin was back on your face “if princess is okay with sharing.” Nico didn’t need to wait for your response as your eyes sparkled at the thought “you want the bedroom or would you rather have me fuck you on the couch?” His words sent shivers down your spine as his lips nipped at your neck.

Your brain melted as both options caused images to flash through your mind “bed, bed.” You blurted out nodding as Nico helped you off of his lap “let’s not keep you waiting then.” Jack smiled as you walked over to him.

The events that occurred between when you guys were in the living room and the time you landed up in his bedroom were ones that were a blur with your only memory being that it was causing your wetness to pool in your panties as both boys pressed this lips against you.

Now Jack always knew that you were hot, he had seen you in your bikini on more than one occasion and had even walked in on you showering once. Of course neither one of you spoke about it but you didn’t forget how his cock grew hard at the sight of you “how do you want us baby?” Nico asked as he helped pull your dress over your head leaving you in your blue matching underwear set.

You went to cover yourself when the captain stopped you “answer me.” He mumbled pressing a kiss against your lips.

The thought of how you wanted this to go made your brain melt “want you in my mouth first.” You blurted out making the Swiss man smirk.

He sent Jack a look that made him nod as both sets of boys shed their clothing making sure to only take yours off in a painfully slow pace “patience princess.” Jack cooed as you stood out of your panties “want to take our time with you.” He murmured making your body shiver.

Nico took the moment as Jack began thrusting his hand up his cock making sure that it was hard before he went to fuck you “such a pretty little baby.” Nico mumbled swiping his tongue over your lip as his hands when to the back of your bra.

You almost forgot that Jack was even there until the boy ran the tip of his cock over your clit letting it slide down your slit before his dick slid into your core “god!” You groaned grabbing at the older boys hands.

The Swiss man smiled as your face scrunched up “you enjoying that baby?” He asked watching you nod as he slowly lowered your face down to his own cock.

It made your mouth water seeing the swollen pink tip “be a good girl for me,” Nico’s words made you clench around Jack “fuck you like being called that?” Jack asked teaching down to grab your hips letting his hips steadily meet yours.

Your tongue swirled around Nico’s cock making the boy grunt “holy shit!” Nico let out a grunt when you looked up through your eyelashes as you took as much of his cock as you could making your eyes water.

Both boys shared a moment where they smirked as the sound of your cunt squelching erupted off of the walls of the room “think she knew what she was doing when she called you tonight?” Nico asked as he began to increase the pace of his thrusts when you gagged around his cock “of course.” Jack nodded bringing his hand down to your clit “such a little slut for us tonight.” He added letting his fingers apply harsh amounts of pressure to your sensitive nub.

The whine that fell from your lips was quickly swallowed by Nico’s cock as the sensations made him shiver “fuck her harder.” Nico ordered making your legs begin to shake “I’m not gonna last bro.” Jack warned as your pussy wrapped around his bare cock like you were made for him “this pussy is dangerous.” His head fell back as he warned the older boy.

Both boys could bare focus as the pleasure you made them feel had their brains melting. That was only fair given how they made you feel as Nico left your mouth full and Jack left your cunt warm “fuck.” Your words fell from your lips as Nico’s cock gave them a moment to come out.

Jack’s finger dug into your sides as he hoped that your orgasm would come first “you gonna be a good girl and take it all in your mouth?” Nico asked as he could barely keep his thrusts going.

All you could do was nod as his eyes screwed shut letting his load shoot into your mouth coating your tongue with his come “let me see that baby.” The hockey player held your head by your hair as he slid his cock out of your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out letting him see the white substance that sat there “such a good little girl.” Nico cooed pressing his lips together and before you can process what he is doing a string of saliva fall from his lips dropping until it lands on your tongue “swallow all that baby.” The hockey player ordered wrapping his hand around your throat as he felt his come and spit slide down your throat.

Jack couldn’t help but grow jealous at the intimate interaction that you had with his teammate causing him to raise his hand against your ass “Jack!” You moaned eyes screwed shut as Nico kissed your lips.

The younger boy began to see a white hue cast over his eyes as your cunt suffocated his cock “want to see how these pretty things taste.” The Swiss man smiled as he leaned out taking your nipple in his mouth as his fingers grazed over the other sensitive peak.

Jack’s hands held your waist up as you moaned letting your head fall back “fuck Neeks.” You cried as his free hand went back to teasing your clit “you close baby?” Jack asked forcing his cock deeper into your pussy.

You nodded as you turned your head to look at him “gonna come-” your announcement was cut off as his hand locked onto your jaw bringing your lips against his as he kissed you.

Both boys swore that it was the hottest sight as your body shook with whines trapped between your lips.

Jack couldn’t take it anymore as his chest went flush against your back with his movements of his cock beginning to sputter until he came “such a pretty girl.” He cooed watching in awe as his cock slid out of your cunt letting his come mix with yours as it oozed out.

Nico didn’t take long to send you a serious look “think you can handle one more?” His voice was delicate as his hand brushed through your slightly knotted hair “Neeks.” You nodded sending him a smile through heavy eyelids.

The boy was quick to bring you onto the bed with him “don’t think she’s gonna take it standing.” Nico pointed out as you straddled his hips “she’s gonna ride me like the pretty whore that she is.” He explained bringing his cock up to tease your clit before you let your hips drop against his.

Jack felt a sense of deja vu as he watched your face contort to the pleasure that his captain made you feel “open up baby.” Karl ordered tapping his already hard cock against your lip, you were planning on listening to him truly you were. But Jack seemed to believe that you hadn’t moved quick enough, so as your mouth formed an o as a rough moan left your lips the hockey player took that as the chance to force his dick into your mouth.

The sight was dirty, both boys seemed to have a common objective as they had a silent competition, who could make you come faster? Who could make you cry harder as their cock hit the back of your throat? Who was going to make you feel like you couldn’t walk tomorrow? All of those were questions that they wanted to know and by the end of the night they were going to have to have all three answers.

Sounds of Nico’s coarse grunts as his eyes didn’t leave your ass watching how your cunt swallowed his cock repeatedly driving your hips up and down as your hands grabbed at his legs “such a pretty girl” he cooed smirking at Jack who gripped at your hair forcing his cock further down your throat.

Jack didn’t mean to be jealous but you were meant to be his first not Nico’s. Yet as you looked up at Jack letting your eyes lock onto his through your eyelashes it seemed to wash away his worries “what would Z say if he saw you now?” The Hughes boy groaned as he felt your throat constrict around his cock.

Your cunt clenched around Nico “maybe she likes thinking about him seeing her as a dirty little slut?” Nico grunted squeezing your ass.

You couldn’t focus on your brother as the captain brought his other hand to your clit “you getting close princess?” Jack smirked seeing your legs begin to shake as Nico had to take control of the thrusts.

Your head bobbed as you nodded “fuck you’re such a perfect little girl.” The Swiss man cooed as his cock began to throb.

The boys noticed how your state turned fucked out as your brain turned cloudy “don’t stop,” Jack forced your throat to take all of him as he finally came.

He almost hunched over as your tongue swirled around his cock sucking him dry “fucking hell baby.” Jack whined letting your hair out of his hands as the sweaty hair stuck to the back of your neck.

His cock pulled out of your mouth letting you swallow his load “now be a good girl for Nico.” He ordered bringing his lips down to yours so that he could kiss you.

As Jack’s tongue slid over your lip Nico had to remain focused on making sure that you came before him “right there Neeks,” you groaned leaning back as your head fell back.

The younger boy took that as the opportunity to bring his lips to your breast “fuck Jack!” You cried as his tongue swirled around your sensitive peak “you like it when we fuck you like that?” Nico asked feeling your cunt squeeze his cock.

It was the way that it hadn’t let up on his dick for the last few minutes that made Nico think that you were close “please let me come.” You begged not fully understanding the thoughts in your brain.

Jack laughed as he looked up at you “gotta try harder than that.” He clicked his tongue locking his hand around your jaw “I’ll be your good girl Neeks.” You offered grinding against the older boy.

The Hughes boy couldn’t even get upset watching your eyes screw shut “let the neighbours hear you.” Jack one ought his lips back to your nipple.

That was what sent you over the edge “shit shit shit!” You cried feeling your body writhe above Nico and against Jack.

The captains orgasm came shortly after yours “there we go baby.” Nico cooed slowly helping your hips move through your high.

You swore you were going to collapse when Jack helped you up placing your body onto the soft sheet “such a pretty little girl.” The Hughes boy rubbed his hand on your leg.

As you lay there Jack watched your come ooze out of your cunt “not so fast princess.” He shook his head using two fingers to force it back into your pussy “fuck Jack!” You groaned as Nico brushed your hair to the side “you okay baby?”

The question lingered on your mind until your phone rang so naturally you leaned over to see who was calling you “you okay baby?” Nico repeated his words as your eyes went wide.

Why the fuck was Trevor calling you?

#nico hischier smut #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl imagine #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

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bones4thecats · 26 days

Note

Hi, hope I'm not late to requests.

Could I request Jack, Jade, Trey, and Malleus with a s/o who likes textile design?

What If Their S/O Liked Textile Design?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their S/O Liked Textile Design? Characters: Jack Howl, Jade Leech, Trey Clover, and Malleus Draconia Requester: Anonymous

A/N: The reader in this piece is stationed in Pomefiore, since I think it fit well with the prompt.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐺 Textile design? This is something that Jack has never heard of before, but he is willing to learn about

🐺 When you had first invited Jack to your dorm in Pomefiore so that you could show him the ropes of how this 'textile design' worked, he smiled and showed up right on time

🐺 He was pulled inside the room by you as you asked him what was one pattern that he loved or that reminded him of his home, in which he just said the snowy mountains was one thing he liked and reminded him of home

🐺 You smiled and sat down at your desk, using your pen to pull up another chair for your boyfriend to sit down on so he could observe without his legs hurting

🐺 Jack watched as you pulled up a drawing of mountains with snow on top of them in a cartoon-ish style and he chuckled as you nervously rubbed your neck, telling him that you had drawn this one night when you couldn't sleep

🐺 You then began the process of printing the design onto a blanket that you had found woven -and cheap- at Sam's and you adjusted your device above the fabric and began to code in the printing's location

🐺 Watching with his ears stiffly up and his tail slightly swaying with every decoration added by the machine, Jack would be lying if he said that he wasn't amused or enamored with how the machine printed such a pretty design on the thick material

🐺 When you said it was done and you held it up for him to see it, your boyfriend smiled as his tail swayed faster with each step closer you took. And you knew why that was happening; he knew you were gonna give it to him

" I hope you like your new blanket, Jacky. " " Thank you very much, my soulmate. "

🍄 Jade knows about a lot more things than other merpeople when it comes to the surface. But when you mentioned textile design, Jade had drawn a blank

🍄 He had turned around from the mushroom terrarium and asked you to repeat what you had said before, and since he normally listens very well, you kinda chuckled at his reaction

🍄 You had brought him back to your dorm when Azul had closed Mostro Lounge for the day, due to some personal issues surfacing and how he would be busy that day. And let's be honest, who trusts Jade and Floyd with the Lounge?

🍄 When you practically shoved him into a chair of yours, Jade smiled and chuckled at your actions that were filled with excitement

" My, my, Y/N~ You really seem excited to show me this 'textile design' of yours. "

🍄 You had held out three different pieces of paper for him to chose, in which he lifted up a print of mushrooms in the woods and you pushed it onto a a piece of white fabric

🍄 Holding a small fragment of magic stones, you dropped them into the 'printer' and activated it, smiling as you sat down and held your boyfriend's arm as he chuckled and watched unwavering at the device's work

🍄 Once it let out a small beep, you jumped up and grabbed the fabric, holding it for the eel-mer to see. And he smiled, enjoying the observing picture of the mushrooms

" Wait- look at the back! "

🍄 When you turned the blanket around, Jade's eyes slightly widened, there was a small drawing of a mushroom with expertly labeled spots

" Aw, my dear~ You really do love me~ "

🧁 Unlike most of the men at Night Raven College, Trey does know some patterns when it comes to clothing. It comes with the benefits of working with his parents and having a little sister (his brothers don't care enough about clothes)

🧁 When you and him were spending a lot of time speaking about things such as your likes and dislikes, he had caught you speaking of clothing patterns

🧁 While he wasn't shocked, as many Pomefiore members love learning about these kinds of stuff, he was slightly shocked at the amount of knowledge about textile design you had kept in your brain

🧁 He had asked if you could show him a piece you had made, in which you smiled and reached into your bag to pull out a small fabric keychain that had a tiny clover on a tray

🧁 As a man who loves puns himself, he laughed at the joke. His name was Trey, hence the tray, and his surname was Clover, hence the four-leaved plant on the rectangle of metal

🧁 Trey held the fabric item in his hands and looked at it with love as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, giving you a strong side-hug as you chuckled and flushed at his form of affection. He normally wasn't too fond of PDA himself

" I love this, Honey. Thank you for such a lovely gift. I'm sure this will stumble my sibling's minds when they see it. "

🧁 Laying your head on his shoulder as he placed the chain onto his bag, you smiled and replied with a 'no problem', making him rub his hand on your head, messing up your hair slightly

🧁 He was such a dork with you

🐉 Malleus, as a royal, has studied many different things over his many years of life. Including types of fabric so that someone would not be able to trick him into wearing something damageable to himself

🐉 But, as we all should know, this poor guy does not understand technology in any kind of way. So he does not know what textile design is very well

🐉 So, when you had been taking a small walk with him one day and mentioned textile design, he had no idea what you were talking about. And, like Jack, Malleus is welcoming to the idea of learning how this stuff is made

🐉 Much to your enjoyment

🐉 You had mentioned your offer to show Yuu how people in Twisted Wonderland made the fabric design with magic, and that made Malleus smile and ask if he could observe as well

🐉 You just smiled and agreed for your boyfriend to watch alongside your shared friend, and when he arrived and watched alongside Yuu how you took a crystal and mixed it inside a tiny vial for it to work with the technology so the fabric could be made faster, he was meticulously astounded

🐉 Yuu was as well, but watching a powerful dragon fae's eyes just widen with sparkles at you working on something so simple for him to do was something that could make anyone chuckle

🐉 You had made two items, one being a small grim keychain and the other being a tiny version of a photograph of Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you during your last vacation from school

🐉 Yuu thanked you and left, dragging Grim behind him as the cat groaned and whined about going to meet with Ace and Deuce, as your boyfriend stared at the item and smiled gently, his eyes being filled with adoration and love

" Thank you so much for this, love. You have no idea how much this means to me. I knew I made no mistake choosing you as mine. "

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helloalycia · 2 months

Text

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!

also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol

y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name

5 years old.

"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.

I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.

"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"

I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.

"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.

After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.

At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.

I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.

—

14 years old.

"Y/N, I need your advice."

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.

He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"

I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."

He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."

Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"

"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"

At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."

"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."

"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"

He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"

I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."

He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."

"Exactly," I agreed.

He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"

Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.

Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.

Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.

"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?

"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.

She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."

I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.

After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.

"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"

I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.

Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.

It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.

Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.

"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"

Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.

"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.

We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.

If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.

Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose.

"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."

"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"

I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.

Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.

After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.

I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.

Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.

"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.

She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"

"Game?" I asked with confusion.

"My soccer match," she clarified.

"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"

"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."

Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."

They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.

—

Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.

The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."

"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."

I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.

"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"

I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."

"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"

"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.

"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"

All I could do was nod.

"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.

"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.

With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.

She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.

—

It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.

The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.

"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.

"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"

I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."

I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.

"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."

She flashed me a smile before leaving.

Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.

—

15 years old.

I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.

"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."

Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"

I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.

"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.

"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."

"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.

"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."

"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."

"Oh, no, you don't need to–"

"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"

Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.

But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.

"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.

"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.

I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.

"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"

Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.

"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.

She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."

My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.

"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."

Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.

"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."

Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.

"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"

"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."

"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"

"Some, yeah."

"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"

"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.

She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.

After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."

I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.

"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."

Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.

"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.

"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.

I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.

"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.

Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.

"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."

Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.

The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.

The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.

We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."

"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.

"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."

They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.

They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.

We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.

"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.

"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.

After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.

"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'

I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"

"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"

"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."

"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.

"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"

"Oh, I don't know–"

"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.

And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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tonyspank · 8 months

Text

LOST IN THE FIRE

black!singer!reader x jenna ortega (they/them pronouns, but there’s mentions of them having a pp, lol)

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of angst i guess, my poor attempts at humor again, social media w a bit of irl

a/n: i’ve always wanted to do a social media book. so this is just something fun i came up with, i hope you enjoy :) it’s also a way i can put u guys onto my fav songs 🤭

faceclaim: khalil beth

Is Percy Hynes White Dating Jenna Ortega?

Jenna and Percy have yet to confirm or deny dating rumors, but they have posted many cute cast photos of one another on Instagram. On top of that, Jenna took Percy as her plus one date for the 2023 Golden Globes — and they're set to star in a movie together!

━━━━ iMESSAGE

3 talented artists + jack lani - kehlani jackie - jack tae - matteo

lani Y/N sweetie..

jackie 🙁

tae what'd i miss??

jackie Y/N's fav ex is dating an ugly man 🥺

tae JENNA? NAHH

tae let's hope she leave him too 🤞

tae she'll miss the bbc 🥲

lani omg wdf 😭😭

you ...

jackie now the dots was a lil dramatic

lani JACK 😭😭

you jack stfu before i shave ur beard

tae got his ass

lani LMFAOO

jackie 🤐

tae ok ok but Y/N how are u rn?

lani frr like talk to us

you wdym?

you we broke up why would i be bothered

jackie

🤨

tae 💀💀

lani i've never met anyone who still likes their exes posts

you it's called being mature

you i am able to support her regardless of what happened

tae it's called being delusional

jackie laughed at "it's called being delusional"

jackie i have an idea

jackie

tae fam what is ur camera roll? 💀

lani what's ur idea jack

jackie i'm gonna ask demi for an invite to the scream 6 premiere

jackie then me and Y/N gon jump percy in front of jenna right

lani

side-eye…

jackie and then jenna gon be like

jackie oh my god not my mans getting his ass beat by my ex & their bsf tf

you please stfu 🙏

jackie bro

jackie i'm tryna help you save ur gf from a guy who looks like the definition of pervert

tae laughed at "i'm tryna help you safe ur gf from a guy who looks like the definition of pervert"

lani 😭😭😭😭

lani i can't breathe

you it's literally just a rumor that they're dating tho

you & i'm not going to the premiere

jackie mhm

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jackharlow, devyn_nekoda, and 7,891,103 others

y/nhart what's your favorite scary movie? 🔪 #ScreamVI @screammovies

View all 12,793 comments

screammovies You, of course. 🔪🩸 > y/nhart can we kiss?

jackharlow what did you say in the group chat? > y/nhart that jack harlow is a flop 🤫

user15 bro doing everything but dropping an album 💀 > user1 ong. right my wrongs ep was amazing but it's been 8 months 😭

mrmatteo where was my invite? > y/nhart drop a song then let's talk > user3 what a hypocrite 💀

user8 bite me

kehlani you could never be ghostface > screammovies Its always someone you know. 👻🔪🩸

user11 GO TO THE STUDIO

user992 i have $1,000 frank will drop before this mf

user90 MORE JENNA AND Y/N CONTENT??? > user78 i missed them :')

━━━━

Your eyes were starting to water due to the number of flashes from the cameras that were going off around you. The bright lights made it difficult to keep your eyes open, but you knew that this was just part of being in the spotlight.

Jack places a hand on your arm, slightly shoving you towards the exit. You ignore the yells of your name and continue to make your way off the carpet.

Your bodyguard, who had been standing nearby, steps in to create a path through the crowd, shielding you and Jack from the relentless paparazzi.

"Did you talk to Jenna?" Jack asks, leaning close enough for his voice to be heard.

You send the bearded man a glare, shaking your head. "No. I don't even think she's walked the carpet yet."

Jack raises an eyebrow before turning his head to the carpet, which is still filled with celebrities and flashing cameras.

He scans the area, searching for any sign of Jenna among the chaos. He then turns back to you with a smirk on his lips. "I think you're just ducking her."

You roll your eyes at Jack's teasing remark.

"Please, like I have time to play hide and seek with Jenna. I'm just trying to avoid the relentless paparazzi."

You gesture towards the swarm of photographers jostling for the perfect shot.

Jack hums, his smile widening. A thought clicks into his head, causing his smile to drop.

"Oh, yeah! I talked to Melissa, and she is fine as fuck."

You thin out your lips. Jack probably didn't know she was married.

"I'll tell her husband you said that."

"You know what they say. Don't let your husband distract you from finding the love of your life."

You chuckle at his joke.

━━━━

"May I say you look amazing tonight?" The interviewer states, smiling as they admire your appearance.

You smile, bringing your hands together to calm yourself before responding.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you a big fan of the Scream franchise?" The interviewer asks, moving their microphone closer.

You nod, your eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Absolutely! Ghostface is such an iconic character, and I love the twists that they put in the movie. It just always keeps you on your toes."

The interviewer chuckles, sharing your enthusiasm. "I completely agree! The Scream franchise has definitely left a lasting impact on the horror genre with its clever storytelling and memorable characters. Speaking of memorable characters, whose is your favorite?"

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky as you bite down on your lip.

"Uhh... It's hard to choose just one, but if I had to pick, I would say Roman Bridger. I didn't suspect him at all, and his reveal as the mastermind behind everything in Scream 3 was a total shock. Plus, Scott Foley's performance was absolutely chilling."

The interviewer nods, appreciating your choice. "I couldn't agree more. He's surely one to remember."

You nod again, smiling. "For sure. I've always wanted to play Ghostface. Taking off the mask and revealing your plan must be so fun."

The interviewer laughs and says, "I'm sure you'd do great."

Before you could respond with a thank you, the interviewer speaks up.

"Jenna! It's so nice to see you." You turn to see Jenna, your heart dropping at the sight of her.

You force a tight-lipped smile at the brunette. "Hey Jenna, long time no see," you say, trying to sound casual.

Deep down, you can't help but wonder if she still thinks about you.

Jenna returns the smile. "Yeah, it's been a while," she replies softly.

Memories of your past together flood your mind, and you can't help but wonder if there's still a chance for reconciliation.

"You guys are so stunning, I can't even!" The interviewer gushes, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Jenna chuckles, her eyes meeting yours briefly before she turns her attention back to the interviewer.

"Jenna, I've gotta ask. Are you a fan of Y/N's music?" Jenna nods her head, glancing at you again before answering.

"I am. They're very talented musically, and I'm waiting for another album."

You try to fight back a smile, but it fails miserably. The interviewer notices your failed attempt to hide your smile and chuckles.

"Seems like there's mutual admiration here," they remark, noticing the subtle connection between you and Jenna.

You tilt your head, shrugging a bit. "I guess you could say that. Jenna's very talented herself, both musically and in acting."

Jenna feels the butterflies in her stomach erupt as you compliment her.

She's missed you, and she wants nothing more than to reconnect with you. She blushes slightly and responds, "Thank you."

━━━━

You walk over to Jenna, interrupting her conversation with Percy. "Jenna."

Jenna turns towards you, a surprised expression on her face as she pauses mid-sentence.

"Come home with me?"

Jenna's eyes widen as she processes your unexpected request, leaving her momentarily speechless.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she nods slowly, her curiosity piqued. "Sure, why not? Let's go."

Percy furrows his eyebrows, watching you and Jenna walk off together.

When you arrive home, you take off your jacket and help Jenna with hers.

Jenna mumbles a thank you before making herself comfortable on the couch.

She looks around the unfamiliar surroundings, seeing as you've changed a few things since the last time she was there.

Jenna's eyes linger on a Polaroid of you and her, capturing a happy memory from months ago. Of course, Jenna still loved you, but was she ready to take the risk of getting hurt again?

She couldn't bear the fact that things might not work out between you two, causing more heartbreak.

Fame had always been a double-edged sword for Jenna. While it had brought her success and recognition, it also came with constant scrutiny and pressure.

It's what ruined you two. Jenna being constantly busy due to acting and you constantly being busy due to singing made it difficult for you both to find quality time together.

Despite the love that still existed between you, the demands of your respective careers created a growing distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.

You walk into the living room, two glasses of wine in your hand. "Actually," Jenna speaks up, and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

She continues, "Could we sit on your balcony?"

You nod, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Of course," you say, leading the way to the balcony.

As you settle into the comfortable chairs, the city lights twinkling below, Jenna takes a deep breath and says, "I miss moments like this, just being together without any distractions."

You take a sip of your wine, pausing to savor the flavor before responding. "Me too," you say, gazing out at the night sky.

"I missed you."

Jenna's eyes soften, and she reaches over to gently touch your lap. "I missed you too," she whispers.

"I hope you know that I'm not dating Percy."

"I know," you reply, a small smile forming on your lips. "I knew you wouldn't downgrade like that."

Jenna chuckles softly, her dimples beginning to show. "That's hilarious."

A silence falls over the two of you.

"I couldn't imagine being with anyone other than you," you snap your head towards her, your heart swelling with love at words.

She always knew the right thing to say.

"You're the only one who truly understands me, Y/N." Jenna's eyes meet yours, her brown pupils glistening in the moonlight.

"I can't find myself being vulnerable or trusting with anyone else." She finishes off, breaking away from your gaze.

You don't say anything, you just place your hand over top of hers, which was resting on your lap.

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jennaortega, jackharlow, kehlani, bnyx, and 13,829,100 others

y/nhart 12...??...23...lost in the fire...earned it...all mine...confident...all mine...oui...greece...get me...kiss land...for free

➕➕➕.

meltdown...i'd do anything to make you smile...boyfriend,girlfriend...rambo...let em'know

@chancetherapper @djkhaled @kehlani @travisscott @jackharlow @feliciathegoat @theweeknd @bnyx

View all 46,829 comments

user12 OMFG BRUH

user99 AOTY

jackharlow deluxe 🔜

bnyx 👨‍🍳🔥🎶

theweeknd 🫡

user77 couldve had better feats tbh > user880 STFU

djkhaled 🔥🔥🔥 WE'LL NEVER STOP 🛑!!!

>user14 TELL EM BRING OUT THE ALBUM ALREADY

user67 i'm about to cry.

━━━━

y/nsrealwife posted on Instagram.

18,782 likes

y/nsrealwife i stand by what i said

View all 138 comments

user11 unknown? it's jenna😭 > y/nrealwife me when i'm delusional

user45 there's no misses on the album + they ate down in the deluxe > user89 came in my pants when they came on the track w that "t-time, t-time, t-time.."

user66 can we talk abt for free? bro had like 10 viagra pills before pulling up to the studio > user77 💀💀💀

jackharlowsbeard kehlani & jack on the album made me so happy.

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jennaortega, jackharlow, mrmatteo, kehlani, arianagrande, and 17,839,138 others

y/nhart mega christmas dump 🎄@jennaortega @jackharlow @mrmatteo @kehlani

Comments have been limited.

tonyspank had to put it in a collage due to the 10 photo limit 🙁

—

jennaortega has posted a story.

#tonyspank #wattpad #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega gn!reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #black!reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x black!reader #jenna ortega x singer!reader #social media

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shaunamilfman · 15 days

Text

you must like me for me [1]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. A/N: NSFW. the "shauna hooks up with you instead of jeff" au that you know and love. Part 2 | Part 3

Click. Click. “Fucking work,” Nat muttered. Click. Click. Click. “Piece of shit.” She hits it against her palm a few times before trying again. Click.

Stay calm. Deep breaths.

You bury your face into your hands with a heavy sigh as Nat keeps flicking uselessly at her lighter. “Are you done yet?” You ask wryly, voice muffled by your palm.

“Nope,” Nat comments, purposefully flicking it louder. The grating sound of her empty lighter catching was starting to drive you insane, and you both knew it would only get worse. You groan as you pull back to glare up at her, dutifully rummaging through your jacket pocket for your own lighter.

There's the beginnings of a smirk clearly visible on her face, and you realize with a sudden clarity that annoying you had been her goal the entire time. You almost want to keep it from her on sheer principle, but she'd just find another way to irritate you if you did. Pissing you off seemed to be one of her few passions in life. Do what you love and you never work a day or some shit. If only she took algebra this seriously.

Your hand wraps around the cold metal, your thumb rubbing soothingly over the familiar gouges on the surface. You dreaded having to hand it over, already quietly mourning its comforting weight as you held it loosely up in front of you. It was just a lighter, sure, but it was your favorite lighter. You were aware that it probably wasn’t all that healthy to use a lighter as an emotional crux, but you figured that was a problem for a later you.

Nat shoves her bic back in her pocket with a crooked grin, reaching for yours and snickering as you jerk it away from her. “Don't be a dick,” She says.

“I want it back, Nat,” You warn. Nat rolls her eyes as she nods, leaning over you to snatch it out of your hand. You let her take it easily, relaxing back against the wall as she finally lights up. Nat exhales slowly, relief evident in her voice as the familiar smell washes over you. You weren’t particularly fond of the smell, but you doubt many people were. You’d smoked here and there when Nat was feeling particularly generous, but it wasn’t a habit you planned on picking up.

You were much more content to watch, basking silently in the smoke of whichever of your friends you’d followed outside. That’s how you preferred to experience most of the world, watching quietly until something caught your attention. Nat called it ‘brooding’, but you preferred to think of yourself just as the silent type. Nat laughed her ass off the one time you mentioned it to her, calming herself down only to randomly burst into laughter for the next week whenever she thought of it.

Since then you’ve decided to keep that to yourself as well, aghast at the idea of giving Nat more ammo to use against you. Nat was your best friend, sure, that was undeniable. Still, she could be a real bitch when she wanted to– it’s part of why you got along so well in the first place.

“Jesus,” She laughs out suddenly, cigarette held loosely between two fingers as she gestures across the room. “If looks could kill.” Your eyes follow the gesture absentmindedly, grinning as you catch sight of a murderous-looking Shauna staring down Jackie and Jeff across the room. Your eyes widen at the sheer rage she's giving off– you're not sure you've ever felt that strongly about anything in your life.

There was something about the intensity of her face that made it difficult to tear your eyes away from her. She looked fucking psychotic, like the kind of expression you'd catch on the eleven o'clock news as someone insists that ‘he just seemed so normal’. Honestly, you wouldn't be all that surprised to find out Shauna Shipman already had a trail of bodies behind her. You eye her arms interestedly– she'd certainly be strong enough to carry the body off.

Still, if Shauna's looks could kill you would've been dead a long time ago. You've been on the receiving end of that particular look so many times that it lost its intended impact a long time ago. You weren't quite sure what you'd done to piss her off, but you quietly thanked yourself for it. You knew she meant it to be intimidating, but the way you shivered under her gaze was never quite as fearful as she probably hoped.

That flaming anger in her eyes that you worried might burn you from the inside out if you weren’t careful only made you want to press more. You wanted so badly to see what would happen when she finally lost it on you. Shauna was dangerous, as you more than well knew. You’ve seen evidence of that more than just about anyone else: always carefully lingering by the edge of the crowd as Shauna started swinging.

There was something about her then, something utterly enticing in her fury. She seemed larger than life in those moments, all civility leaving her body as she became something to truly be reckoned with. The dead look in her eyes and the harsh look of fury as she lost control of whoever was stupid enough to start shit with her. It was almost intimate.

As many times as she’d glared you down she had never actually tried to swing on you, as much as you sometimes wish she would. You had a pretty similar reputation, and you were more than a little curious about which one of you would come out victorious if ever came down to it. You don’t think you’d mind the result either way in all honesty. You would count yourself lucky to lose a fight if it was to her. Not, of course, that you’d let her win. That would take all the fun out of it, all of the struggle.

You’ve spent more time than you’d care to admit thinking about how her knuckles would feel tearing into your flesh, your face rocked from side to side with the force of every blow as she used the full strength of her body to really lay into you. You liked to imagine the way her fists would look stained with your blood, her heavy breathing above you as she tired herself out beating her fury into your body.

So, yeah. You were perfectly normal about Shauna Shipman.

“Hey,” You hear a soft voice say, glancing away from Shauna at the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. You turn to glare at whatever asshole is in your face, trying to hide your surprise at finding Jackie in front of you. Jackie takes a half step back at the look, hesitation melting into determination as she does her best to stare you down in return.

You can’t help the way a smile tugs at the corner of your lips: Jackie’s attempt at a glare is more funny than scary. Her eyebrows narrow in determination, but she seems more confused than intimidating. Had she walked up to you on the street you probably would have tried to give her directions. Her lips twisted into a scowl, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. It was as if she was imitating a storybook villain more than anything else. She probably should have practiced it in a mirror a few more times before debuting it.

You appreciated the valiant effort but decided she ought to leave the intimidation to Shauna. She seems to come to a similar conclusion, looking down at her feet to hide a slight flush on her face as she awkwardly rocks back on her heels.

“Did you seriously snap in my face?” You ask, amused.

“You were like totally zoned out,” Jackie defends, rolling her eyes when Nat snickers.

“So you snap in my face?”

“Come on,” Jackie draws out, pouting up at you. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, that was like five minutes ago now.” You scoff, but decide it was probably best just to let it go at this point.

“Did you want something?” You prompt.

“Oh! Yeah,” Jackie laughs, waving a joint she seems to pull out of nowhere in your face. “You have a light, right?” You glance at her curiously, before shrugging. You look over your shoulder at Nat who thumbs your lighter open, quickly lighting it up before stuffing it back in her pocket.

Jackie grins as she takes a hit, purposely blowing the smoke in your face as you narrow your eyes at her. Normally you’d excuse it as typical Jackie Taylor brand irritation, but you have an odd feeling that she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her eyes betray just a hint of a smile as if she’s in on a joke you weren’t meant to understand.

You open your mouth to say something in return, probably antagonistic, but Jackie holds the joint out towards you in a peace offering. You consider it for a moment before taking it, deciding there were definitely worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Besides, free weed was free weed. Even if it was somehow already stained with Jackie’s lipstick.

You inhale slowly, purposely blowing out into Jackie’s face. She scowls at you, but quickly gets over it as she snatches it back. You talk to a loose and happy Jackie Taylor for a while, too engrossed in the conversation to realize Shauna's death glare had long since shifted targets.

…

“No,” You say firmly. Nat gives you a sad look as she glances up at you.

“No,” You repeat again, hesitating this time. Nat, sensing weakness, immediately holds her hands together in a pleading gesture, making you roll your eyes. “Fine,” You start to walk off in search of the kitchen. “But I'm going to get you the warmest can I can find.”

You can faintly hear Nat shouting “Booooo!” As you turn the corner but decide to ignore it. You bypass the ice chest as you see a can sitting off to the side, clearly set down and forgotten. Still, it was definitely unopened. Perfect.

You're about to walk back into the living room when you catch sight of a flashing light through a window. Your eyes widen as the siren sounds, the flashing blue and red lights bright in the darkness.

Shit. Nat was on her own.

The music comes to a dramatic stop as everyone else seems to come to the same conclusion, but you've already slipped out the backdoor before the shouting starts. You run blindly through the forest, waiting until the lights aren't quite as visible in the distance before coming to a stop. You lean against a tree as you catch your breath, silently laughing at the dismayed shouts as people on the edge of the woods are caught.

You duck behind a fallen tree at the sound of a stick breaking, wondering how they'd even get out to you so quickly. The sound of snapping branches only gets louder, quickly approaching your location as you start to hear the sound of heavy breathing. You watch in disbelief as Shauna runs right past you, rolling your eyes as she doesn't even seem to notice you.

“Shauna,” You whisper harshly. She whirls around in confusion, a slight fear on her face till she seems to just barely make out your face in the dark.

“Y/N,” She mutters irritatedly. You give her an unimpressed look despite knowing she wouldn't be able to make it out from that far away.

“Don't sound so excited to see me,” You mutter. Let her get caught if she wants to. She obviously doesn't seem to have much experience running away from the cops.

“Trust me, you're the last person I'd want to run away from in the woods,” Shauna seethes, but stomps over to lean against a tree near you.

You start to respond before you hear harsh panting, glancing back over the tree to see Jeff running through the woods right toward the cops. You think about calling out to him, but you think it's funnier to imagine his face when he realizes what he's done. You're not that surprised he's mixed up his directions. You glance over at Shauna's look of disgust as she watches.

“You could go with him instead,” You offer quietly, grinning smugly as she shoots you a look of disdain.

She decides to ignore you for a while, bouncing her leg up and down to work off her nervous energy. You both wince at the sound of every broken twig, almost certain this is going to be the one that gets you caught. You finally glare over at her as the rustling starts to get on your nerves.

“You know, you're pretty bad at this,” You murmur, peering over the tree one last time before settling on the ground with your back against it. You start fumbling through your pockets for your lighter, but quickly realize Nat must've taken it with her.

Bitch.

Now you have to deal with Shauna sober. Soberish, you think, searching through your jacket pockets till you find it. You pop the tab open with a grin that quickly slides into a wince as the taste hits your tongue. You'd been tasked with getting the beer can by Nat, a task which you reluctantly agreed to but now felt oddly thankful for. Her loss was your gain, and besides– it's not like it was your fault the party was busted before you could get her lukewarm can of beer back to her.

You take another sip, almost surprised as it somehow tasted worse than the last one, but Shauna snatches it from your hand and tosses it behind her before you can take another one. You stare at your empty hand in disbelief, hand still clenched around where the stolen can once sat before you slowly look up at her. She's got that famous grin on her face, head tilted in a way that you know means she's about to start shit.

Still, even you're surprised when she throws the now empty can aimlessly behind her and stumbles forward to straddle your legs. Your eyes are wide when you somehow end up with a lap full of Shipman, hands resting instinctively on her thighs as she scoots up to press her hips flush against yours.

“Jesus, Shipman,” You mutter. “Warn a girl.”

“You know, I've heard a few rumors about you,” She murmurs, a hungry glint in her eyes. You resist the urge to tremble under her gaze, feeling oddly like a prey animal as she stares intently down at you. You almost want to get up and run, but you shudder at the thought of dumping her off your lap to do it.

“If you seriously ask me if I've done anal with Kevin we're going to find out which one of us would win in a fight, Shipman. I swear to God.” You say, stealing yourself for a fight as Shauna just smirks down at you with that strange look on her face.

“Heard you had a thing for girls. Heard you were good at it.”

“I don't kiss and tell,” You say firmly, pointedly digging your thumb into her thighs as they start to bracket you tighter. Shauna hisses in pain, hand clutching your shoulder tightly as you only press them in harder. Shauna relaxed her grip with a whimper, a fucking whimper, as she unconsciously pressed herself further into your thumb. She looks at you with an almost unreadable expression as she thinks for a moment, before shifting and tentatively rocking her hips against yours.

“Too bad that senior you hooked up with last year doesn't feel the same way about it,” Shauna snarks, rutting down in earnest as your hands come up to encourage her hips as she rides your thigh.

“What?” You ask distractedly, a breathy sound as you manage to tear your eyes from the way her dress rides up with every roll of her hips.

“Fuck,” She draws out shakily, eyes slipping shut as she rests her head on your shoulder. A pleasured sigh escaped her as she found a good angle, hips stuttering against you until your guiding hands took over for her.

“Had to double back last year for something that Jackie forgot,” A strange hint of venom enters her voice at the name. “And Kelly couldn't stop singing your praises to last year's varsity team. Best fuck she's ever had, did you know that? Of course, she's only ever slept with her loser boyfriend so it probably isn't that much of an achievement.”

Your initial wave of disgust at the admission is overshadowed by a feeling of pride. Best fuck she's ever had? No. You're upset that she's talking about you behind your back. Definitely. Your righteous indignation is quickly tamped down as Shauna whines out her protest as she bites pointedly at your neck.

Right, you think, quickly resuming the endless back-and-forth motions of Shauna's hips as she lets out these perfect little noises into your ear.

“Think it's a little obvious that I have a thing for girls at this point,” You comment wryly, sneaking a peek down the neckline of her dress as she shudders against you.

“Oh, fuck. Right there. Right there,” She pleads, the wet glide of her against your thigh rubbing just right.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Shipman?” You tease, pulling her down harder against you. She opens her eyes just to glare at you, the heat in her stare almost enough to make you back down as she seems almost resentful of the pleasure you're giving her.

She scoffs. “Even Randy could…” She trails off into a loud moan, muttering a few quiet curses under her breath before continuing, “...stay still while I get myself off.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure is.”

“Maybe you should go find him, then,” You say, slowly drawing your hands away from her hips.

“Don't be an asshole,” Shauna snaps, clawing at your back in warning. “Make me come or I’ll–”

“What? You’ll do what?” You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to respond.

“Maybe you should shut up and take it before I decide to walk off, yeah? Maybe you can be just a little nicer for once so you won’t have to walk back to your car still dripping in your panties.” Her jaw is clenched tightly, an absolute look of murder in her eyes but she doesn’t offer up another threat.

“Can you do that for me?” You taunt, pressing on the sore spot as soon as you realize its existence. Shauna huffs angrily, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Strangely the anger seems to make it better for her, her thrusts slowly speeding up the longer you continue to irritate her until she's riding your thigh with a vengeance.

She whispers breathy threats of violence into your ear in between ragged moans, but it's hard to take her at face value as she rubs herself all over the rough denim of your jeans. You wince at the thought of the stain she's going to leave, quickly pushing it out of your mind as Shauna bites at your shoulder through your shirt to muffle her moan as she comes. Even as muffled as it is she’s so loud that you can still clearly hear her as she continues to grind weakly against you as she rides out her orgasm.

“Did you just...” You ask in astonishment.

“No,” Shauna lies, voice just a little too high pitched and embarrassed for it to be the truth. She seems to gather as much from the shit-eating grin on your face, slapping weakly at your shoulder with a hint of playfulness you've never seen directed at anyone but Jackie before. She glares at you again a moment later, as if she was trying to take it back. Leave it to Shauna Shipman to regret smiling.

“Shut up,” She groans, face flushing with embarrassment. “Whatever. Just make me come again. You can do that, can't you?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grab for her discarded flannel and roll it up to lay under her head as you sit up and lay her back on the forest floor. Shauna's smile is almost shy as you look down at her from your position between her spread legs. You trail your hand up her thigh for a moment before thinking better of it.

“Up,” You direct, tapping at her leg as you shrug your jacket off. She complies with a curious look on her face, a soft smile taking its place as you slip your jacket under her hips on the ground. You take the opportunity that's presented to you and hook your fingers in the waistband of her underwear as you pull it down your legs.

You hold up your surprising find on one finger, her lacy black panties almost blowing in the gentle breeze. She squeaks in embarrassment, her reflexes fast as she tries to grab for them but not quite as fast as yours as you jerk them away to shove in your pocket. “Didn't strike me as quite your style, Shipman,” You murmur, “Thought you'd be more of a boxers type.”

“Yeah?” Shauna asks. “You spend a lot of time thinking about what's beneath my clothes?”

You flush in embarrassment as you try to sputter out a response, before finally settling on a simple “Fuck you.”

“Gonna have to wear something under my uniform from now on. Had no idea someone was trying to look up my shorts,” Shauna says with feigned disgust, shaking her head as if she truly couldn't believe it.

“Eat a dick,” You mutter, rocking back on your knees as you move to stand up.

“Don't be such a baby,” Shauna chides, hooking her leg around your knee to keep you down. She grabs at the collar of your shirt as she drags you into a messy kiss that serves only to emphasize her lack of experience in the area. Still, no one will say that Shauna Shipman isn't a quick study as she thoroughly distracts you from her teasing.

“Jackie picked them out,” She murmurs lowly as you separate for air.

“What?” You ask.

“My... My panties,” Shauna admits with a quiet voice.

You grin and she rolls her eyes. “Don't say anything,” She warns.

“No, hey. I'm sure everyone lets their best friend pick out their panties. Nothing weird there,” You choke the laughter down to give her the most understanding look you can muster on a moment's notice. Shauna glares and you hold your hands up innocently. “Nat picked mine out too.”

“... Really?” She asks, eyes slowly tracing down to stare at your jeans.

“Fuck no,” You laugh out, burying your face into her neck as you shake with the force of it. She sighs irritatedly, pinching at your sides until you finally stop.

“Eat me out before I find someone else to do it,” She threatens, but you can still find the traces of levity on her face she hasn't managed to erase.

“Yes, Ma'am,” You say sarcastically, shifting to lean on your elbows as you spread her thighs around your shoulders.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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