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violettelueur · 3 years

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIX || AFTER RAIN

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 25 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : curse womb must die II

↳ next episode : assault

↳ barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ let me admit, i have no idea how to write the next episode since you don’t see anyone in them except for gojo and itadori (domain expansion episode) ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ so i might have to improvise something now...BUT there’s nothing much happening in this episode, so i hope you still enjoy it even when there is no action or anything interesting going on ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.

“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.

“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.

“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.

“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.

Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.

‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’

ꕥ

“You’re late, Megumi,” Zenin obviously mentioned, as her head was turned with what seemed like to be a wooden combat pole in her hand as it casually leaned against her shoulder.

“Kelp,” Inumaki stated, as he was sitting on the ground, also having his head turned to look at the Shikigami user, ignoring what seemed to be a race between Kugisaki and Panda going on behind him.

“What were you doing?” Maki asked curiously, as Fushiguro made his way down the stone steps towards his upperclassman while zipping up his blue track top.

“What does it matter?” Fushiguro then questioned, not giving the weapon-wielder sorcerer a clear answer since he thought there was no need sharing the fact that he went to visit the mother of the man (that Itadori want to save) that had been killed by the special-grade curse back at Eushi Detention Centre to pay his condolences.

“Zenin-senpai...what kinds of people do you want to save as a jujutsu sorcerer?” Fushiguro queried, as he processed to stare down upon the ground trying to hide his emotions to compose his stoic nature, causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn her head once again to look at the other student.

“Huh? It’s not like I care if my actions save anyone,” Zenin answered in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Fushiguro to look to the side with an ‘I’m done’ expression.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Fushiguro muttered in a lowered tone, leading Zenin to instantly become annoyed as she eyed at the erratic-haired boy with instant irritations in her eyes as well as expression.

Suddenly…

“FUSHIGURO! Quit asking interview prep questions! Switch with me! I’m sick of these school uniforms! Let me go buy some cute tracksuits!” Kugisaki shouted in a fit of rage, as she was strangely spun around in a dizzy circle like she was at a funfair circus as a clueless gymnast before being thrown in the air by Panda.

“What are those two doing?” Fushiguro confusingly asked as he watched the amusing sight process while his classmate landed on the floor.

“Falling practice!” Panda announced as he pointed his finger in the air like what he was doing was obviously.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated as if to confirm Panda’s answer, as he too looked at the ridiculous scene.

“You’re both weak in close quarters, after all,” Panda stated, as he informed his younger classmen on why what he was doing, made sense to the training that he had planned.

“By the way, where is Y/N? She was with you when you both left to do whatever you were doing,” Zenin questioned, as she looked around the area behind her to see if you were there since she did miss your presence the last time you both met.

“She said she needed to go somewhere important, but will be back as quick as possible,” Fushiguro recalled, as he remembers after you both met with Tadashi’s mother, you informed him that you had to go somewhere for the time being, but didn’t tell him where you were exactly heading off to.

“That’s fine, I guess,” Maki replied back as she processed to swing around the wooden pole she had in her hand with such grace and accuracy before continuing with, “if what that idiot Gojo said to us about her is true, she could beat all of us in an instant, she’ll probably be perfect in the individual’s battle,”.

“Okay, land a blow on us,” Zenin stated, with her palm out, as if inviting Fushiguro to attack her.

ꕥ

“I’m here, mother”

As of right now, you were holding a small bouquet of a beautiful arrangement of blue hydrangeas paired with white roses with some incense sticks in one hand, while the other was holding a wooden tub filled with water with a wooden ladle as well as a plastic white bag with items you quickly brought from the corner store causing you to quickly place your items down before leaving the delicate bouquet in a safe area.

Digging through the white plastic bag, you pulled out a cloth before removing the stubborn tags that refused to be taken off as you processed to soak the material before beginning to wipe down the marble gravestone that towered you as your crouched down before cleaning the vase that you had also brought from the corner store - yet you were surprised at the fact there were no weeds to be pulled.

After you had quickly clean the gravestone, you picked up the incense sticks in their rightful holder before lighting them up with a match (that you also brought from the store) before carefully removing the paper that held the flowers to gently place the floral plants in the same neat arrangement in the now cleaned vase.

Making sure the china vase was placed in the middle, you grabbed the wooden ladle that was in the wooden bucket, making sure it had enough water before standing back up on your feet to pour the clear liquid over the grave as you then placed the ladle back into the bucket.

Placing your hands together in prayer, before internally thanking your mother for protecting you as well as expressing your gratitude for her.

“They’re your favourite flowers right?” you gently asked, as you stared down at the flowers that were beautifully sitting in the vase. “Those were really expensive you know, I wonder how you were able to buy them so often without any regrets,” you muttered with a small smile before crouching back down as if you were going to look eye to eye with the gravestone like your mother was going to be sitting in front of you.

“I've been found…but...I wasn’t as bad as I suspected, the people at Jujutsu Tech are such drags but they’re really nice people,” you expressed, as you continued with, “I’m sorry I took so long to visit, you know Sendai to Tyoko is a really long journey, technically that’s both our faults since we agreed that we wanted to rest in Tokyo if we did pass,”.

Looking at the marble stone in front of you, you could see the thin smoke of incense that was slowly swirling into the air, as if it was trying to hypnotise you with its graceful movements. However, even though you knew you had to get back to Jujutsu Tech as quick as you could, you couldn’t help but utter a few more words to your late mother.

“I miss you mum”

ꕥ

“Ah- am I late?”

At this current moment in time, it seemed like training had taken a pause since everyone was seated somewhere close to the stone stairs that lead the way down to the track field.

“Where were you? I needed you to train Megumi more,” Zenin asked, as you carefully made your way down the stairs with another white plastic bag in hand before making your way to your upperclassmen with one hand holding each handle, leaving an opening that was large enough to let her have a view on the contents inside.

“Sorry, I was visiting someone, but I got you guys some refreshments since I know you all were going to be tired by the time I came. Oh! The orange juice is mine by the way,” you mentioned, as you swiftly grabbed the orange carton from the bag as if someone was going to steal it if you didn’t.

Smiling at you, Zenin leaned away from the tree bark to see what she could choose from the bag, before reaching in, to grab that bottle of water as her choice before you processed to hold the bag around for everyone to get a pick on what beverage they wanted before you took a seat on the steps between Fushiguro and Inuamki.

“Where’s Kugisaki?” you asked in curiosity, as you looked around the fielded area only to not find your classmate leading Fushiguro to explain to you that she went out to buy a tracksuit since she didn’t have one, causing you to realise that you probably needed to change later but for now, you didn’t find being in your school uniform since the slit on the side of your long skirt, made it easier to move as well as deal with the warm environment that was coming in for the season at the moment.

“Gojo, your katana is a cursed weapon right?” Fushiguro asked, causing you to look at him weirdly after stabbing the straw into the carton before giving him a nod as a way to reply to his question.

“I agreed with the others that supplementing my close combat with weapons is the best choice right now, but with my cursed technique, I want to be able to free both hands at any time, with katanas, you lose time sheathing them,” Fushiguro explained, as he placed the pads of his fingers together while looking down at them.

“How do you carry your weapon when your cursed technique is used by your hands as well, also how did you manage to hide the chain attached at the end?” Fushiguro asked as he looked up at you, only to be surprised when he saw you looking at him with an annoyed expression.

‘That’s one way to somewhat expose me, I guess’

“I can utilise my technique by using only one hand, although there are times when I have to use both hands like you. However, I rarely unsheathe my katana, so it usually hangs on my back,” you described, causing Fushiguro’s to concentrate on you, trying to understand your technique since it seemed more complicated then you made it look at your battle with Sukuna.

“About the chain, the red charm cancels the chain being constructed since it will use my cursed energy, not a lot for me, but it’s a drag since I need the extra bit. When the charm is off, I use my curse energy to conceal before clicking my fingers to reveal it, if I want to, and when I use two hands, I can use the chain to pull it back,” you explained, causing the second-years to be surprised at the amount of cursed energy you have to use to employ such a simple weapon - maybe it wasn’t as simple as they intentionally thought.

“How much cursed energy do you possess, Y/N?” Panda asked as he placed his paw on his chin in a thinking posture, only for Fushiguro to answer the question.

“She has a lot more than she is showing right now, I don’t know how but she can hide it,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to smack the back of his head before placing the neglected straw back to your lips since you were desperately craving the citrus content that was in the carton.

“Zenin-senpai, you often carry more than two around with you, right? How do you do that?” Fushiguro queried as he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain you had given him.

“I made Panda carry them,” Zenin answered, as she pointed at the classmate leading to the animal sorcerer to proudly show off his muscles as if to inform you and Fushiguro on how strong he was.

“I shouldn’t have asked, part two,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, causing you to giggle internally at the statement as you wondered what he must have asked the first time since ‘part two’ was in the sentence.

“Some sorcerers keep cursed spirits that can store and retrieve objects,” Panda presented a well-thought idea, even though there was a disadvantage to that.

“He can’t do that. It’s a rare thing and it takes time to tame them, as well. But if you find any, let me know,” Zenin countered, before Panda replied for the payment he wanted if he ever finds a curse for her, causing you to zone out from the conversation as you processed to stare down at the step before you, that was slightly darkened by the shade of your shadow.

In curiosity, you took a side glance at your classmate only to notice that he was in deep thought, leaving you to figure something out for him while he thought of his own solution.

‘His shikigami uses shadows for a medium, then if that is the case…’

Using your hand that was occupied with your orange juice, you leaned forwards slightly, letting the tips of your fingers touch the stone step below you while making them land in the middle of your shadow.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were.

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated with a rare smile, before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

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truglori · 3 years

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Homebody (Ch.12)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Smoking

1 1/2 months later

The music from Amiyah’s speaker played at a low level. She was currently in the process of setting up an organizer for her perfume collection. Going back in forth between the instructions on the manual and screwing in the tiny nails she was growing frustrated. It’s been almost and hour now and she was only able to put together two shelves. Throwing down the paper she stood up and slipped on her house shoes. Amiyah needed a break to keep herself from becoming irritated so she walked to the kitchen for a snack.

Keys unlocking the front door caught her attention. It was Durk walking in with another Louis Vuitton bag for the fourth time this week. Amiyah knitted her eyebrows together wondering what was up with all of the shopping he’s been doing. She watched him walk to his to put away his items before he walked back into the livingroom.

“What’s up sis? You didn’t have to work today?” Durk asked pulling out his weed tray and breaking down the bud.

Amiyah walked over to him and sat down. “Nope I was just getting ready to make me some food but I’m too tired to cook.” Taking a pillow she cradled it in her lap.

He snickered rolling up his blunt. “I’ll order something for you if you want?”

Nodding her head Amiyah grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on. She flipped through the channels hoping to find something to ease her mind for the moment. Durk leaned back next to her sparking up the blunt. Amiyah watched him inhale and exhale the smoke through his nose. Reaching her hand out she made a gesture asking for a hit.

“You know damn well you don’t smoke.” He removed the blunt from his mouth but handed it to her anyway. Durk figured it would be funny to see her try to get high for the first time.

Amiyah grabbed it using her nail tips she took a pull and inhaled the smoke smoothly and blew it out. She did it a few times and then she passed it back.

Durk furrowed his brows looking surprise before sending her a blank stare. “Miyah who the hell taught you how to do that?” He asked gently snatching the blunt away from her.

She laughed and was about to say his name before she caught herself. Shrugging her shoulders her eyes fell to the floor. The grip on her pillow tightened against her chest. Her memory went back to the night she watched how Erik did his technique in the car and she copied him. The thought of him made her sad all over again. Amiyah would always do good until she did something that reminded her of him then she would get a strong feeling of emotions that washed over her.

It’s been over a month since she last seen him. Since the night she ended it with him to be exact. After that it was like he never existed. No more phone calls or text messages. He hasn’t even been by the apartment since then either. Before, if she saw her brother coming in she knew that Erik would be right there behind him with his beautiful smirk on his face that displayed his dimples. But there’s been nothing and it made her miserable inside.

Amiyah didn’t want to be the reason for him to not come over anymore. She was used to seeing his face almost every other day and to see that it changed because of her made her upset with herself. Not only that, because of his absence, Amiyah didn’t know if Erik and her brother were still good friends. Durk had mentioned his in a conversation a week after their last exchange and that was the last time. Amiyah was worried about him. She wanted to know how he was doing but mostly she wanted to have a second chance with him.

“Yo what you got a taste for?” Durk snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Uh it doesn’t matter. Whatever you order.” She sighed sitting the pillow next to her.

He nodded his head as he finished his blunt putting it in his ashtray. A text notification came to his phone. Amiyah heard him curse before messaging whoever it was back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just going back and forth with this promoter about letting me throw a bash at the club for the night. You know with Valentines Day coming up on Saturday.” Durk answered staying on his phone.

Amiyah knitted her brows. “Why you tryna throw a bash? Why not just get VIP and call it a night?” She asked confused leaning her head on her hand.

Durk smacked his lips. “Because I’m doing this for the whole hood. Plus it’s a celebration for something else that I’m not telling yo nosy ass about. But I’m have my niggas to the right and nothing but bad bitches to the left. It’s bout to be a movie.” He playfully plucked her nose before getting up going into the kitchen.

Amiyah followed after she heard who he planned to have there. Erik popped into her head. She wanted to know if he was going to be one of the members in the group. She had to know so she figured she could ask for an invite.

“Well can I go?” She sat on the counter next to him.

Durk chuckled. “Since when you go to parties?”

“Since now. So can I come?” Folding her arms she pressed for the second time.

“No. Amiyah I’m not allowing you around these people. You know I don’t like you being around that type of shit anyway.” He stated while eating grapes from out of the package.

Amiyah scoffed. “ ‘Allow’? Durk I thought we just made up about this. You promised you would stop treating me like a baby and let me live and learn responsibility. That was what you told me, remember?”

After her and Erik’s first argument she had him take her home. Later that night Durk came back to find her there. He was happy that she decided to come back and they talked out their problems. Amiyah told him how she felt about him treating her like a child and how he had to stop. Durk was hesitant but agreed in letting her make her own choices from now on to help her become responsible.

Placing the bag of fruit on the table Durk eyed his sister folding his arms as well. He shook his head as he gave in.

“Damn alright you can go but yo ass is standing beside me the whole night. I’m not playing with you Amiyah.”

Interrupting him Amiyah hopped off the counter jumping up and down clapping her hands. She skipped up to him and wrapped her arms around his body giving him a bear hug.

“Thank you big brother!” She grabbed his face bringing it down to kiss his cheek.

“Miyah stop acting like I keep yo ass chained up in this house all day ‘fore I change my mind. Extra ass.” He pushed her away.

“Okay I have to get an outfit, my nails done. Can I bring Kelly? Who’s all going to be there?” She rushed him with questions.

“I guess you can bring the one and only lil friend you got.” He laughed.

Amiyah pushed his shoulder. “Okay but who’s gonna be there?” She asked hoping to get the answer she was anticipating for.

He shrugged. “I don’t know shit Moe, Erik, Cane, and a few other people I rock with.”

Her heart stopped when she heard Erik’s name. But when she heard Cane’s she felt her stomach flutter with nerves. How the hell did her brother know Cane? It was too much for her to catch up with the fact that two of the guys in his circle had her caught up. If they were both planning on being at the bash then Amiyah would try her best to avoid being around them at the same time.

“Cool!” She gave a half smile.

Durk snapped his fingers. “Oh I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your birthday coming up in a few weeks. Got any plans?”

“No not really. Why?” She stepped closer trying to figure out what he had planned.

“If you down I was thinking outta the country and a place that has dazzling white sand and water so clear that you can see your toes in it. What you think about that?” He asked speaking in a narrator tone.

Amiyah covered her mouth. “Please tell me you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

Durk laughed at her reaction. “You tryna go to Turks and Caicos or what?”

Amiyah jumped on him as he caught her. Turks and Caicos was one of her top places she had on her traveling bucket list. She couldn’t believe that he was able to make this happen for her. She was truly greaful but curious.

“Wait I want to go but why you trying to bring me now? You coming up on here with shopping bags every other day and now you taking me on vacation. I mean I know you got money and everything but did you win the lottery or something?” She asked playfully unable to contain her smile.

He laughed. “You asking too many questions. Next week I’ll give you some money so you can start shopping for the trip. But right now I got to go check out the venue I’ll be back. Love you kid.” He tapped her head before leaving.

Amiyah smiled watching her brother disappear out the door.

__________________________________

“So you tryna tell me you never saw the movie Soul Food?” Harmony stopped in the middle of crocheting her blanket.

Erik chuckled shaking his head. “Nah I told you I wasn’t a big movie watcher growing up.”

“But Soul Food is a classic though. Like how you do as a black person go your whole life without watching it? Make it make sense Erik?” She giggled going back to her knitting.

“Damn you ain’t gotta come for my childhood like that though.” He sat up on her furniture.

“Oh that’s right I keep forgetting your younger than me so I understand.”

Erik rolled his eyes shaking his head. He was 25 and she was 26. Harmony only had him by one year and always had to bring it up almost every time they got together. But Erik knew it was nothing but jokes with her. They were at her duplex hanging out for the afternoon. Over the past couple of weeks Erik got acquainted with Harmony really well. Her and her brother took over the bar where she worked that her parents passed down to them. She lived right around the block from him. But also they had a lot in common. Both were private people, had similar taste in music, like the same foods, and the lastly great at being single.

Harmony surprised him the first time they had a real deep conversation. She let him know that she wasn’t too bothered with trying to get into a relationship. She said she always had problems in the past so she never did much to try to strive for a new one, but she did remain open minded in the same instance. To Erik she was cool about it and didn’t really bring it up unless he spoke on the subject. They were only friends but they did mess around two or three times, if you want to count a quickie in the bathroom of the bar that she worked at as once.

Their escapades started two weeks ago. Erik thought for sure that he was going to have to deal with her sudden clingy-ness but it didn’t turn out like that. He had to reach out to her afterwards and Harmony told him that she was okay with being friends and fucking at the same time. After that they became somewhat close friends.

Erik got a text from Durk asking to meet up with him about the Valentines Day bash he was throwing. Sending a text back that he was on the way he slipped his phone in his pocket and stood up from the couch.

“I would love to stay but I gotta meet up with someone.” He looked down at her.

Harmony stood up nodding her head. “I’ll walk you out.”

Walking to the door Erik turned around. “Listen my mans is throwing this party on Saturday. If you want to come you can if you free.” He sucked in his top lip.

Harmony smirked biting her bottom one. She stepped closer towards him with a hand on her hip. “You tryna introduce me to your boys already?”

He glanced back in her house before back at her. “I’m just inviting you out to have a good time but if you happened to meet them while doing so then shit yeah.”

Grabbing his shirt she pulled him down to her level and kissed him. Erik wrapped one of his free arms around her tiny waist and traveled down her back to her ass cheeks gripping her left one. He felt her moan into his mouth before she broke the kiss.

Wiping the gloss from his lips she pushed him away and smirked. “I’ll be there.” She stated eyeing him up and down and then closed her door on him.

It took Erik twenty minutes to make it to the auto garage. Getting out and locking his car he headed inside to see Durk, Moe, and Cane gathered around one of the vehicles parked inside. The moment Erik made eye contact with Cane he felt the anger within him ignite. Just being in his presence always made Erik put the blame on him for how things between him and Amiyah ended. When he found out that he took her on a date behind his back Erik was heated and wanted to fuck him up but had to hold off because he didn’t want Durk to know the reason behind it but when Amiyah told him that he kissed her Erik was livid. He couldn’t believe that the same kid who he thought he would like was the same one who turned out to be a snake.

Erik kept his distance from Cane since he put the two and two together and kept it that way. They never said a word to each other unless they had to work with Durk. Strictly for business and that’s all. But Erik was still on edge with Cane knowing about him and Amiyah even though they weren’t together anymore, he just didn’t like the fact that the little nigga had something on him.

Walking up to the trio Erik dapped Mor and Durk, purposefully leaving Cane out. Durk gave a look wondering what was the animosity that the two had against each other all of a sudden before shaking it off.

“What’s up E! Fuck you been at nigga?” Durk asked leaning on the hood of the truck.

“Chillin. So what’s going on with this party you throwing? What’s up with that?” Erik stood next to him between him and Moe.

Durk smirked and paused looking at them. “I just figured I could celebrate the fact that I’m fifteen million dollars richer than a bitch and now in business with Shawns old connect.”

“Damn nigga you finally made that shit happen. Now you could put me in charge of some of these corners, take some of the load of your hands.” Cane spoke with excitement as he dapped him up.

Durk laughed. “Nigga you gonna have to earn that shit. Ain’t nothing given over here.” He nudged him back.

Cane smacked his lips shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Aye congrats man.” Moe spoke up.

Durk saluted him before turning to Erik.

“Erik what you think about that? You know when we get our first few keys I’ma need some help. I want you to be my partner.”

“Nah. I’m not tryna get into this type of business man. I told you after this last job we just did three weeks ago was it for me. I’m done.” Erik spoke truthfully.

Durk shook his head. “Well you didn’t look done to me when we was getting that money.”

*Three Weeks Ago*

Moe sat behind the wheel of the all blacked out SUV. Erik rested in the passenger seat while Durk and Cane hid in the back. Parked at least 200 ft away from the small luxurious house with a fence surrounding the perimeter. Erik used his binoculars to find where his target and accomplice were. It was eight at night and Alexis sent Durk a text letting them know that the two of them would be leaving soon. She informed them about the weekend trip he was bringing her on and told them that it would be better for them to come and get the money after they were gone.

Erik heard an irritated sigh leave out of Canes mouth.

“When these muthafuckas gon leave? I’m tryna get these M’s and be out. We already looking suspicious being in this big ass car.” He sucked his teeth putting on his black gloves.

“Nigga would you shut the fuck up. Yo ass been talking for the past ten minutes.” Durk blew out smoke from his blunt.

“Look she said they was gonna be out any minute now so chill the fuck out!” Erik’s voice heightened without looking back.

Within the next fifteen minutes Alexis was walking out with Shawn. They put their luggage in the trunk before hopping inside the car. After a few minutes of observing them Erik watched as they pulled out the gated driveway and down the road. Durk waited until he got a text from Alexis letting him know that they were on the highway heading to the airport. Moe turned on the truck and pulled up right in front of the house to make it easier to getaway. Getting out Erik, Durk, and Cane put on their gloves and ski mask on their heads so that by the time they would walk inside the home they could pull them down to avoid any security cameras.

“Y’all niggas know the fucking drill. We get the money and we out this bitch. Cane grab the duffles.” Durk instructed as he put his glock on his waist.

Erik watched as Cane did was he was told. His expression was irritated by the fact that he had to take orders which Erik figured he wasn’t to doing. Cane had the attitude of trying to be a leader but he just didn’t know how to operate as one yet. Erik picked up his own duffle and walked to the driver side where Moe was seated.

“You remember the signal right? Hit the lock alarm on the truck in a pattern of three times if you feel like something’s wrong.”

“But Durk said not to interrupt unless I actually see someone coming.” Moe stated unsure.

Looking over towards Durk and Cane who were waiting Erik shook his head turning back to Moe. “Trust me man. If you feel like something is wrong give us a heads up. Better safe and out of jail than sorry. Got it?” Erik knitted his eyebrows letting him know that he was serious.

Moe nodded and rolled up his window. Erik then started to hike towards the gate. Entering the code that was given to him he put it in watching the wide gates open slowly. They headed towards the house. Checking around the perimeter of the area, they planned to avoid using the front door. So they asked Alexis to leave one of her side doors unlocked. Cane walked towards it first and wiggled the handle. When the door popped up with ease he looked back and smiled before sliding his mask over his face. Durk and Erik did the same following him inside.

The three pair of eyes wandered around in amaze as the toured throughout the luxurious mini mansion. Erik shook his head as he thought about how Alexis didn’t have a problem risking living like this just to satisfy her selfish needs. She had everything that she ever wanted. Money, cars, the latest fashion, and her hair and nails were always in tip top shape.

Not only that but this house that she could live in full time if she chose to. From the way she would tell them how Shawn was stuck on stupid over her let Erik know that the nigga loved her enough to put up with her and her how shit. There was no way that he was going around town not knowing what his own fiancée was doing. He had to know but just to stupid in love to do anything about it. Erik scoffed to himself never wanting to be that deep in love with someone.

“Aye y’all niggas come up here! I think I got something.” Cane shouted from the top of the banister on the second floor.

Jogging up the stairs, Erik behind Durk, went into the master bedroom. They looked around trying to see why he called them in there.

“Nigga what are we supposed to be looking at?” Durk asked through his mask.

“That’s what I thought when I came in here at first. Nothing looks out of the ordinary but check this out. This some rich shit here.” Going over to the walk in closet Cane pushed aside some of Shawns suits that was hanging up revealing a small red button. When he clicked it the wall slid to the side disappearing.

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me.” Erik whispered to himself.

It was a panic room. Inside the blue neon lit medium sized room was guns holstered against the wall. The ammo inside their cases sat to the side. Erik looked to the right to find that there was some of Shawn’s famous ice pieces laid out on a shelf. All of his most prized possessions was in this room and they had access to all of it. But Erik wasn’t here for that. They had a mission and that was to try and walk out with as much of that money as they can.

“Fuck y’all niggas doing standing around. Get to bagging this shit up.” Durk laughed unzipping his duffel bags.

The money was in a clear casing directly in the middle of the room. It was too much cash to try and fit it all in one duffel bag so they all got three each but it still didn’t look like it would work. Working as fast as they could they were starting to run out of room.

“Durk we don’t have enough bags for this shit.” Cane told him standing up.

Durk looked up at him while placing the stacks in his bags. “So then go run ya ass down to the truck dump it out and come back in here for the rest.” Erik could see that Cane looked confused through his mask. “Now!” Durk yelled.

After the repeated cycle of going back and forth it took them fifteen minutes to gather all of the money. Durk grabbed what he had left and went to the car while Erik and Cane got the rest. To Erik’s surprise everything was going smooth until he seen Cane reach for Shawns jewelry. He knew that it was a bad idea but decided not to say anything. That would be the consequences that Cane would have to deal with and not him.

The sound of the car alarm went off and they immediately ran out of the room and out the house. Throwing the bags in the back Erik hopped back into the car. Moe pulled off once they were safely in. Pulling off his mask he felt Durk slap his shoulder and laughing in celebration as if he just won the lottery.

“With all this money right here. Mufuckas gon be calling me the black Pablo Escobar because I’m bout to take over all of this shit.” Durk laughed smelling the cash.

Erik shook his head. He was glad that it was finally over but deep down inside him he had a terrible feeling that it was the worst decision he ever made.

*Flashback Over*

Erik folded his arms as he jogged his memory of the prior event.“I’ll have to think about it. This some serious shit you asking me Durk. Next level shit.”

Durk smacked his lips. “You always gotta think about some shit instead of doing it. But anyways, I’m doing a lil bash and I want y’all niggas to be there.”

Everyone shook their head agreeing.

“It’s gonna be some bad bitches in there right? I might have to throw on my best walking up in that bitch.” Cane joked around showing off his new Patek Philippe watch.

“I don’t know why you asking. They ain’t gon be worried about ya young broke ass with that pond shop watch you got on.” Durk clowned him rolling his eyes.

Erik smirked watching Cane dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be there and I’ma bring a plus one. That’s cool?” Erik asked dapping him up. He seen Cane looking confused at him out the corner of his eye.

“So you done found someone else to get ya dick wet? I thought you was gonna be stuck on that bitch Alexis for a minute.” Durk teased him smiling.

“Fuck you worried about my dick for? Gay ass!” Erik laughed pushing him. “Nah she just a friend. I met her at this bar she work at down from my place. She real cool.” He smiled thinking about Harmony.

“Well I’ll be the judge of that when I meet her. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

The two dapped each other up with a side hug and departed from one another.

__________________________

“You sure your brother ain’t gonna have a problem with you putting on that outfit for tonight.” Kelley question Amiyah as she pulled down the front of her dress.

It was finally Saturday night. The night of the Valentine’s Day bash and it was fifteen minutes after nine. They were running late. Durk had told her make it before that time so that she would be let inside without any complications but of course she didn’t listen. Amiyah was stuck choosing between dresses as the time went by. After finding out that Erik was going to be there she wanted to look her best. She hadn’t seen him in a month and she was going to try and impress him some how.

“Why? Do I look okay? Does it fit my body right?” She rambled the questions as she tried to take off the fifth dress for the night.

Kelley rolled her eyes getting. She was already dressed and ready to pick her up by eight thirty but when she walked in Amiyah’s room she was still in her bra and panties.

“You look fine. I think that this is the one you should actually wear. You look beautiful.” She rested her chin on her opened shoulder giving her a soft smile.

Amiyah glanced at her appearance in her body length mirror. She tugged at the pink tie-dye fashion nova Rustic Root Ruched Mini Dress. Her shoulders were out in the open and her cleavage on full display. She knew that there was no way she would be around her brother tonight. Knowing him he would try to send her back home to change and embarrass her in front of everyone. Amiyah blew out air of frustration while throwing her head back.

“Your not just saying that because I’m taking too long are you?” She squinted her eyes at Kelley.

Kelley giggled. “Yes I am but it do look good now let’s hurry up and go before we don’t get in at all.”

Finishing up her final touches Amiyah did a last sweep over her body before grabbing her coat and heading out with Kelley to her car. The club was a good twenty minutes away but with there barely being any cars out tonight they made it in fifteen. Pulling up to the location Kelley and Amiyah both whispered a “damn” at the scene in front of them.

“Your brother wasn’t lying when he said that he was gon have the whole hood pop out.” Kelley exclaimed as she fortunately found parking.

“I guess he wasn’t.” Amiyah whispered to herself. She was starting to feel self conscious about her choice of clothing all over again. The expression was written on her face.

“Listen let me tell you this. We are about to go up in here and have the best night of our lives. We gon dance, diss any niggas that try to step to us, drink, and get fucked up. Don’t worry about what other people think. They already have an idea of you in their head so why stress yourself trying to change it. Fuck what they think.” Kelley lectured while applying her lip gloss.

Amiyah giggled nodding her head. Her confidence level going up just a bit from the pep talk. She answered her back with a “thank you” as they got out the car. Walking hand and hand, they walked to the front of the line. The music blasting on the inside was clearly audible on the out. Sounds of people complaining could be heard when they reached the bouncer.

“I hate to be the one to tell you beautiful ladies but the end of the line is down there.” The tall and buff light skinned bouncer pointed in the direction.

“Oh see we’re with her brother, the one who’s supposed to be hosting the bash, Durk.” Kelley spoke for them.

He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between them. “Y’all with Durk?”

They nodded in unison while smiling.

“Yeah well you and everyone else. Now get to the back of my line.” His face stern and unfazed.

“Wait Durk is my brother and he told me to be here early but I was running late. Can you just let us in and I’ll bring him back out here to confirm it.” Amiyah pleaded with her hands folded.

“Girl you not the first one that claimed to be some type of family member of his to get in free. Besides I ain’t never heard about Durk having no sister.” The bouncer eyed her up and down with disbelief.

Amiyah sighed. She didn’t even bother to try and call him because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the loud music. She gave Kelley an apologetic look as they started to walked to the end but the sound of someone calling her name stopped her.

“Amiyah?”

Turning around she saw Cane walking up to the front. He was wearing a white Christian Dior newspaper denim jean jacket. Underneath was a plain black Dior shirt and black washed jeans to match. Inhaling a sharp breath, Amiyah forgot about him being one of those included.

“Hey Cane. What are you doing here?” She replied softly. She was embarrassed being seen walking to the back of the line.

“I’m here for the party. Why you not inside?” He asked with a smile.

“The bouncer won’t let us in. He thinks we’re just tryna cut the line.” She shrugged rolling her eyes at the security guy.

Cane laughed catching her action. “Do you not know who the host is to this shit? Your brother, that nigga should be escorting you in.”

Amiyah laughed shaking her head.

“Come on. I got y’all.”

Kelley smirked at her as they folded their arms together walking back to the front. They stood next to Cane watching him speak to the guy.

“Yo Diamond, they with me and this is Durk lil sis. Remember her face and think twice next time before you try and keep her from getting in. Got it?” Cane tapped his shoulder creating space for them to walk pass.

“I got it.” The bouncer mumbled letting them by.

When they made it in it was packed to the max in the venue. There was beautiful women and fine men all through the place. Pop Smokes- Hello bombed through the speakers. Bottle girls danced while holding up Don Julio 1942’s and sparklers in the air. Amiyah was impressed with the turn out. She reached for Kelley as they both of their lips curled up with excitement.

“We bout to be lit as fuck.” Kelley yelled over the music.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder she turned to face Cane. His eyes traveling over her body made her stomach fill up with nerves. “Yeah?”

“VIP is up there. I think your brother would want you to be there.” Cane licked his lips. His eyes couldn’t stop going below her face.

Amiyah nodded. “Okay.” She grabbed Kelley’s hand as he led the way up the stairs.

Spotting her brother, Durk had different girls surrounding him. One was twerking on him while the other two recorded and took shots from the tequila bottles. Amiyah rolled her eyes at the sight. Walking over to him she patted his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” He snapped his head at her.

Amiyah chuckled noticing he was tipsy but also that he didn’t even recognize her. “Really Derrick you don’t even know your own sister?” She folded her arms.

Pushing the girl who was dancing on him out the way he faced her looking over her. Durks face contorted up confused at her outfit.

“Who are you? Because I know Amiyah ass ain’t come out the house like that-“

“Don’t start Durk you promise.” She cut him off reminding him.

He took off his jacket and pushed it towards her. “Here at least put this on.”

Amiyah laughed pushing it away. “I left mine in the car for a reason. Leave me alone.” She started to walk away but felt him grab her wrist.

“Unh uh I didn’t forget. I told you you was going to stay beside me all night, so have fun.” He went back to letting the girls dance on him.

Kelley looked at him with disgust before turning to her friend. “I’m about to get us a drink from the bar. I’ll be back...maybe.” She stated the last part lowly but Amiyah heard it. She watched her leave the VIP section.

Opening up one of the 1942’s that was on the table Amiyah figured she could get her drink on right here. Tilting her head back she allowed the liquor to go down her throat. She made a sour face shaking her head from the taste. She repeated it giving herself four shots. Amiyah wasn’t much of a drinker so it didn’t take much to get her tipsy. Standing on the couch next to her brother she rocked side to side rapping the lyrics along to the song.

“Amiyah sit ya light weight ass down.” Durk yelled drunkenly towards her.

She waved him off and continued to do her thing. From the way she was standing she had a view of whoever was going to come in the section. She thought it was the liquor playing tricks with her until she saw him take more steps coming up. He was dressed in a two tone knitted Givenchy sweater with black jeans. The blinging from his watch and gold chains around his neck caught her eyes. When he smiled he revealed the gold canines in his mouth. His beard looking freshly moisturized and his waves on swim. His eyes were low which told her that he probably smoke a couple of blunts before coming inside. He looked so good.

Amiyah watched as he greeted everyone in the section with salutes and daps before walking up to her brother who was seated next to her.

“Nigga why the fuck you got to come up here and show me out for my shit?” Durk yelled playfully standing up and boxing him.

Amiyah watched as they interacted with each other. At least her question from earlier was answered. They look like they were still best friends.

“Come on man, this light work.” His voice coming out as smooth as butter.

“Yeah whatever nigga.” Durk turned towards her making her status known. “Miyah you not gon say what’s up to Erik?”

When she heard his name she got butterflies in her stomach. It was like it was her first time meeting him all over again. After a month of not seeing him nothing had changed. Her feelings for him never fading but only enhancing the minute she saw him.

“Hey Erik.” She smiled softly putting the bottle that was in her hand down and stepped off the seat.

Erik nodded his head towards her. “What’s good!” He stated nonchalantly. Amiyah couldn’t deny that she was hurt from the tone in his voice. He didn’t even smile at her, only just a nod. But yet they kept eye contact with each other.

“So where she at? I’m trying to meet this “friend”.” Durk asked doing the quotation marks with his fingers.

Amiyah stood to the side confused hearing her brother over the loud music. She didn’t realize that there was a small petite woman standing somewhat behind Erik until her brother mentioned the word ‘she’. She watched as Erik held her hand pulling her in front of him. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her into him as he rocked them side to side lightly.

“This is my friend Harmony. Harmony this is my best friend and brother Durk.” Erik smiled introducing them. Amiyah felt a sting when he didn’t even bother to introduce her.

She laughed holding her hand out to shake his. “Hi it’s nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you Durk.”

Amiyah observed Harmony. She was beautiful. Nice brown skin complexion, pretty hair that looked natural like it was hers, her outfit hugged her coke bottle shape. She had the perfect breast to hips and ass ratio. Her waist barely existing. Amiyah took note of everything. Everything that she dreamed to be but wasn’t. Sadness clouded over her face as she watched them embrace each other.

“Well I hope he told you only good things. But fuck all that you are beautiful ma. I don’t know how you ended up with this ugly ass nigga.” Durk joked around.

Erik gave him a straight face before laughing. “Fuck outta here. So what’s up where the drinks at? You know I need my shit.”

Durk nodded his head going to the table and grabbed his personal bottle of Hennessy and handing it to him. “Drink up!”

Amiyah watched him crack open his bottle and drunk it down like it was water. The little action reminding her of the time when she was at his condo and how he sipped on the bitter drink before showing her the crazy things he could do with his tongue. Amiyah bit her inner cheek grabbing her own bottle and throwing it back two more times.

“Damn girl you can drink.” She heard a light voice laugh. Turning her head while wiping her mouth she saw that it was Harmony.

Amiyah smiled shyly. “I’m just tryna turn up while I can.” Her words a little slurred.

“I’m Harmony. I came with Erik.” Harmony held her hand out again.

Amiyah glanced at it quickly before shaking it. “Amiyah.”

“That’s a pretty name. Are you Durks girl?” She asked genuinely.

Amiyah scrunched her face up doing a fake puke. “Uh no that’s my brother. I came here with him and my friend who’s somewhere around here.”

Harmony laughed holding her fist up to her mouth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I just saw you standing up here next to him that’s all. Erik didn’t tell me he had a sister.”

“It’s okay.” Amiyah turned her direction towards Erik who was sipping on his bottle while listening to whatever Durk was telling him in his ear. Once again she was hurt when Harmony told her that she didn’t know about her.

For the rest of the night she remained in same spot. Babysitting the area. Kelley came back a few times trying to get her to sneak away but she didn’t want to. Her mood was ruined every time she would look in their direction to find Harmony grinding on Erik and him standing there catching what she was throwing. So she drunk her bottle and danced next to her brother who would wrap his arm over her shoulder as they rapped to whatever song was playing.

In the mist of the party Amiyah saw Erik whisper something to Harmony before getting up to leave the section. She figured she could use this chance to find him and talk to him. To see how he was doing. To get him to look at her the way he used to. Anything to be near him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Amiyah shouted to her brother who only nodded his head drinking out of her bottle.

Walking out the section she bumped and squeeze passed the bodies. She didn’t have a clue where he went. She thought she could catch up with him but with a crowd like the one that was in there tonight it was hopeless. Amiyah gave up trying to search for his frame over the party goers. She strolled to the back hall that held the bathrooms. Going inside the music level dimmed down making it easy to hear if someone was to have a conversation back here.

Dragging her fingers across the wall, her head stayed down not paying attention to what was in front of her causing her to bump into someone.

“Damn my bad.” His deep voice spoke lowly.

Looking up, it was Erik. His eyes were low and going over her body as he stroked his beard.

“It’s o-okay.” Her words becoming a stutter.

Erik nodded his head. She looked tipsy to him or maybe even drunk. He never seen her in this state so it was hard for him to decipher. But Erik knew that he couldn’t leave her alone like this. He wanted to make sure that she was okay.

“You good? You look a lil fucked up.” He spoke bluntly.

“I’m fine. I didn’t have that much.” Amiyah replied. She was tipsy but still was aware of what she was doing.

“I could wait until your finished in the bathroom. We could walk back together.” Erik shoved his hands in his pockets.

Amiyah leaned on the wall with her hands behind her back. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like the sight of us coming back at the same time.”

He smirked as his jaw clenched. “You worried about her when all I’m trying to do is make sure you make it back safe. I don’t want none of these weird ass niggas trying shit. But you thinking about Harmony.” He shook his head as he leaned against the other wall directly in front of her.

“I’m just saying she might get the wrong idea-“

“She’s not my girl.” Erik spoke up cutting her sentence.

Amiyah rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You told me that the last time.” She mumbled knowing he could hear.

Erik’s faces scrunched up. “What’s it to you? Why does it matter if she’s my girl or not?” His arms now folded.

“Because I just find it funny how quick you moved on that fast.” Amiyah snapped looking him up and down.

Erik chuckled. “But wasn’t it you that broke up with me? So I don’t get how you could be hurt by the fact that I’m moving on and you stuck.”

“No Erik I’m hurt at the fact that you act like nothing happened between us.” She was gaining her liquid courage when she stepped in his face. “And how you can just bring her here to meet my brother but not have the decency to even look my way.”

Erik sucked in his bottom lip watching her express herself. “Still don’t know what that got to do with you.” He shrugged.

He was just as hurt as she was. His feelings for her were still raw and there but he wanted to make her feel the same way he felt when she ended it with him. When Erik introduce Harmony to Durk and not Amiyah he did it on purpose. The way he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his was on purpose. The way he let her dance on him in front of her was on purpose. He could feel her stares on them. Erik was hurt and he wanted her to know what he was feeling.

Amiyah scoffed shaking her head. “What is it about her that’s so special? What? The fact that you can fuck her without having to worry about her crazy ass brother finding out about it. That’s why you’re fucking her?”

Erik chuckled. “How would you know if I’m fucking her or not?”

“For you to be some drug dealer you sure are a fucking coward Erik!” Amiyah pushed his chest but he caught her by the wrist.

“I told you I’m not a fucking drug dealer and for someone to not ride dick...you sure are riding mine. Why you worried about who I’m fucking if you ain’t the fucking me?” Erik’s words were hard.

Amiyah stared at him. “I hate you.” She mumbled looking at his lips trying to free herself.

Erik backed her into the wall. He put her hands above her head and interlocking their fingers as he looked down at her and towered over her body. “Fuck you say to me?”

“I said I hate you-“

Her words were cut off with his lips connecting to hers. His hold left her hands and his arms wrapped around her waist. Traveling down to her ass he cupped both cheeks firmly. Erik felt his dick jump when she moaned into his mouth . Her tongue gliding with his as he felt the warmth of it overtaking his body. It’s been over a month since he felt her lips. Erik’s heart was beating fast knowing that it was risky to be making out with Durks sister and how anyone could walk in and see them. But he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to.

Amiyah moaned as she held his face bringing him impossibly closer than what he already was. She could taste the Hennessy off of his tongue mixed with her tequila. She was putting everything that she was feeling into this kiss. She wanted him to know that she missed him and wanted to start over. She didn’t mean it when she said that she hated him. With the alcohol and emotions getting in the way she wanted to say anything to keep him by her.

Erik pulled away with a tug of her lower lip and placed a soft peck on it. He cursed at himself for falling weak for her once again. No matter how much space they had away from each other she was always able to pull him in.

“What is it about her that I’m not?” Amiyah interrupted his thoughts. She tried to stop herself from asking the question but she wanted to know.

Erik sighed putting his forehead against hers. “You gotta learn how to stop questioning yourself when it comes to these other females. Your beautiful ma. Stop that shit.” He gave her one last kiss on the top of her head as he left her standing there alone going back to the party.

“Okay.” Amiyah whispered to herself.

__________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger #homebody

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

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Our Doll 9//find a way of coping

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | y/n is struggling to cope after Sokovia. Someone unexpected shows up

Warnings | swearing, drug use, violence, descriptions of dead bodies

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Y/n sighed, rolling the joint between her fingers as she sat back. Since being at the new compound, y/n had found a place to hide just past the treelike of the surrounding woods - a place that no one else had found so far.

She brought the joint to her lips, her thumb flicking it the lighter until the little flame danced, lighting the tip. She breathed in, taking a hit before lowering the joint from her mouth and breathing the smoke out. Her head rolled back, resting against the tree behind her.

Y/n let her eyes slip shut, being the joint back up and taking another hit of the weed. She could feel herself relaxing, muscles lax and stress leaving.

It was the first time in days that her mind was taken off of what she'd done, and she was relishing in it. She let the rolled up joint hang from her fingers, wrist loose as she rested her forearm on her knees, which were tucked into her chest.

"Y/n? What the fuck are you doing!?" Y/n groaned, her eyes fluttering open as she rubbed her eyes.

"Shit." She muttered, gasping when she felt Bucky's fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her head up to his as he leaned in close. He examined her reddened eyes, expression u telling of his emotions.

"Are you high?" He pushed after a moment, tone harsh, like a bite.

"No!" Y/n defended, bringing a hand up and slapping Bucky's arm away from her. She stood up, rolling her eyes at Bucky as he glared at her. "You interrupted me before I could get that far." She mumbled under her breath, and Bucky scoffed, placing his hands on his hip.

"Come on, doll. I okay ow you're struggling right now...but drugs? Seriously? I thought you were better than this." Bucky dismissed, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Well I'm so sorry to disappoint you, asshole! You're not the one that killed a bunch of innocent people, Buck!" Y/n raised her voice, throwing her hands in the air. Bucky tilted his head with a frustrated look, pacing towards y/n so quickly that she backed up into the tree. Y/n let out a small oomph as her back collided with the bark, Bucky's body pressed against hers.

"I didn't kill a bunch of innocent people, hm? Did you forget who you're talking to, y/n? I'm the goddamn poster boy for killing innocents, doll!" Bucky shouted, his spit spraying her face as the veins in his neck and forehead protruded, face red. "But it doesn't mean I resorted to drugs, y/n! That shit messes you up, it's fuckin' dangerous!"

"At least you weren't lucid when you killed them." Y/n shot back in a barely audible mumble that had Bucky scoffing with a short, humourless laugh.

"Wasn't lucid? Doesn't make it any fuckin' better, y/n! I still killed them!" Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide as he pushed away from her. He sighed deeply, but y/n stayed in place, breathing heavy.

"Look, I'm sorry for shouting, okay? But jus- just please promise me you won't use that stuff again? I don't want you hurting yourself with that shit." Bucky said calmly now, a soft plea in his eyes that made y/n instinctively nod.

"I won't. I promise." Y/n murmured, and Bucky sighed again, throwing his arms out to the side. Y/n rushed forwards, leaping into his arms so hard that Bucky took a few steps back, encasing the girl into his warm embrace.

"I've got you doll, I've got you. You're okay." He mumbled, his nose buried in y/n's hair as he spoke.

...

The second I entered the room, I was spinning on my heal to leave again. Steve's hand wrapping a round my bicep stopped me in my tracks though, his face levelling with mine.

"Doll, please." He murmured, blue eyes soft. I rolled my eyes, but straightened up and turned around anyway. A fake smile occupied my lips as I crossed my arms over my test, tilting my head with a hum. Tony rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips and Sharon stepped forward, extending a hand.

"Hi, I'm Sharon Carter. I'm here to assistant with your training and trying to keep your powers under control." She said with a pitiful look. I eyes her hand but never took it, instead looking over the woman's shoulder at Tony.

"Her? Really? What's she gonna do; be some pointless victim for me?" I scoffed and my dad threw me a glare. I could practically feel the awkwardness radiating between Steve and Sharon, Steve's Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he swallowed thickly. Sharon's eyes darted between the two of us, skittish and almost scared; like I would hurt her if she looked at him too long.

"Y/n speak friendlier." Tony barked through gritted teeth, the embarrassment he felt clear in his tone. I scoffed again, letting my eyes roll obnoxiously.

"No, Mr Stark, it's okay." Sharon waved off, a tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes spreading across her pink lips. "I know we got off on the, uh, wrong foot," she cleared her throat and I scoffed. "But I hope we can...start over. I think we could be good friends."

"Yeah, sure." I said nonchalantly, shaking my head and hitting my hip out.

"Y/n," Steve said, tone a little too harsh, "please, just give her a chance. She knows what's she's doing." That comment had my turning to face the super soldier, brow quirked.

"Oh yeah, Steve? I'm sure she really knew what she was doing when she fucked you. Did she bounce on it real good?" I mocked, but my words were no where near playful. Steve cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze as he spoke.

"Come on, y/n, that's not fair. We were broken up!" Steve exclaimed with a frown. Y/n just glared at him, a silence ensuing. After a moment Tony clapped his hands together turning to Sharon.

"Should I show you to your room?" He inquired and the blonde woman tilted her head in a smile.

"I think that's a great idea." As they walked out of the room, Sharon took one last glance at steve before the thud of the door was signalling their exit.

And that was it for y/n.

"Why were you looking at her?" Y/n mumbled, looking up at Steve, whose eyes were still trained on the door. The man smirked, baby blue eyes darting down to meet with y/n's as his pearly-white teeth flashed.

"You're jealous." He gloated, and y/n smacked his chest.

"Of course I'm fuckin' jealous! Why wouldn't I be?" Y/n snapped, and Steve drew the squirming girl into his arms.

"You have nothing to worry about. I was just..lost in thought, I guess." Steve sighed, placing a kiss into y/n's hair as she settled into his embrace. "Just try not to kill Sharon while she's helping you train, I'd never forgive myself." Steve mumbled and y/n giggled against his broad chest.

"I can't make any promises." She murmured back. Steve chest vibrates in a mumble as he chuckled, another kiss being dropped into her hair.

...

The last person I expected to show up was Peter. I hadn't spoken to him much since the night of the party, and I fully intended on walking straight passes him. But the stupid teenager had other plans.

I was already frustrated, on edge; Sharon had just finished my first training session and all I could think about the whole time were her fair hands all over steve, her perfectly pink lips on his, her naked body pressed to his-

I shook the thoughts off, blinking a couple times before looking up at Peter again.

"Can we talk?" The boy mumbled, eyes pleading as he looked hopefully at me. I sighed, heavy and long, before giving him a small nod. My day couldn't really get any worse anyway, so what was the harm in indulging him?

He led me to one of the common rooms, which was empty and barely even looked like it had been decorated yet. The sides were empty as well as the walls, a simple sofa sat in the middle of a lonely room. Peter led me over to it, the cushions dipping as we both perched on the seat.

"I wanted to apologise." Peter said after a moment, head hanging as he broke the awkward silence. I gulped, swallowing thickly at his words. "I wanted to apologise for how much of a dick I was. Before." He said he didn't receive a reply from me.

"Okay." I mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. "Why?"

"Because it wasn't fair, how we rested you. How he treated you. How I treated you." Peter spoke with a tight, barely-there, smile. "I know I didn't do much, but I'm staring to thick that was the problem. I could feel done something; included you, talked to Mr Stark." Peter continued.

My fists clenched and unclenches at the memories, my jaw tightening as I listened to him speak. I could feel that bubbling urge, rising so high to the surface I was struggling to shove it back down again.

"Peter." I said sharply, harshly. The boy frowned, trying to look at me but my head was turned away. "Peter, I need to you leave. Get out of the room. Now." I grated through gritted teeth, closing my eyes tightly and willing the urges down. "Please." My voice cracked and Peter slowly stood, hands out in surrender as he babbled, confused. "Now!" I growled, but it was too late.

I opened my eyes to see the brown-haired boy crouched in the floor, hands grasping his head as he groaned in pain.

"Y/n...please...stop...you're hurting...me!" Peter stammered, words wheezed out through the pain as a scream clutched his throat. I gasped, I think. But the rage was burning; a horrid, contagious feeling that ate me from the inside out. "Y/n, please!" He screamed, falling forwards so his forehead resting against the floor.

I was vaguely aware of the click of the door opening, then slamming closed as footsteps piled into the room. Frantic worries as Tony crouched over Peter; barking orders into the room.

A softly murmured 'm'sorry' before a sharp pain in my head, vision knocked out as my body fell limply against the sordid wall of muscle besides me.

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harrysbbby · 4 years

Text

Super Rich Kids

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/N are young and in love, not to mention filthy rich. But does money really buy happiness? Based on Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean

Words: 3k

Warnings: drug use, swearing, mentions of su*cide so please be mindful if this would be triggering. a whole lot of angst

Start my day up on the roof

There's nothing like this type of view

Point the clicker at the tube

I prefer expensive news

Rafe Cameron was an anomaly. Too spoilt to hang with the Pogues, too much of a delinquent to fit in with the Kooks. But he made do.

One of his favourite things was watching the sunrise from the roof next to his room’s large bay window. It centred him, calmed him. His mind was constantly racing, so seeing the orange glow rise over the trees, was nothing short of relaxing.

He would usually do this while scrolling through his phone, checking Instagram, seeing what party had happened the night before across Figure Eight. Fox News would send him updates, you know, rich people paying rich people to tell middle class people to blame poor people. And he supposed he fed into that idea, but as the sun hit his eyes, making him squint, he didn’t think further into it.

New car, new girl

New ice, new glass

New watch, good times babe

It's good times, yeah

Wind blew through your hair as you drove along the highway. You laughed raising your hands above the open windscreen, feeling the air on your fingertips. You could feel the diamond ring wobble on your finger, pulling your hands down to admire it. It matched your icy diamond bracelet, courtesy of your new boyfriend.

Rafe leant over placing a hand on your thigh, the cold feeling of his Rolex catching your attention. You could see your reflection in his glasses as you smiled at him. You leant over, placing a kiss on his cheek, before throwing your head back, whooping into the open air.

She wash my back three times a day

This shower head feels so amazing

We'll both be high, the help don't stare

They just walk by, they must don't care

The steam of the shower blended in the air with the smoke of weed, creating a damp leafy smell. Your soapy hands ran over his skin, washing off the dried saltwater. You grabbed the shampoo, foaming it up in your hands before reaching up to run it through his hair. He held your waist, securing your stance against him as you washed the salt and sand and seaweed from his hair.

He leant his head back, letting the water run over his head. He could feel your lips on his neck. He let out a throaty groan, gripping your bare ass. You giggled into his neck, hand running through his hair, ridding him of the rest of the shampoo.

He felt euphoric.

The two of you were giggling uncontrollably as you exited the shower, leaving puddles along the lavish floors of the main bathroom. You were wrapped poorly in the white fluffy towels, when you heard the vacuum cleaner whir from down the hall.

“Oh shit, the maid is here,” you cursed. Rafe’s bloodshot eyes lit up as hushed chuckles escaped his mouth. You tried to shush him, but your laughter was louder than his.

You made a run for it, sprinting down the hall, leaving drops of water behind. You slinked past the maid in the open living room upstairs. She didn’t even flinch as your white-towel clad bodies raucously giggled all the way to your room. She had seen similar scenes a hundred times through. She’d found the bottles of alcohol hidden in your room, or your stash of weed. She needed the money, she needed employment from your family, she didn’t care what you did. You and Rafe collapsed onto your bed, still giggling out of your minds.

A million one, a million two

A hundred more will never do

Rafe went home that night. As he entered the house, he heard his dad summon him to the kitchen.

“Hey son,” he greeted him, not looking up from his paper, “I transferred some more money into your account today, saw you made some pretty decent purchases.”

“Yeah,” Rafe cleared his throat, “they’re for my, uh, new girlfriend. You always told me how to treat a girl right, Dad. I really think you’d like her.”

“That’s lovely,” Ward eyes never wandered from the page he was intently staring at. Rafe’s shoulders hunched as he made his way upstairs, unsure his dad even registered his retreating footsteps.

He took out his phone, opening up his banking app, surveying the hefty total. His heart didn’t pick up like it used to when he saw the number rise. He felt empty and unloved, but as your name appeared in a notification at the top of his screen, he thought, maybe, he would have a chance of filling that void.

Too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce

Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms

“I never understood what this is called,” your words slurred as you held the bottle up to your eyes, squinting as your hazy eyes struggled to focus.

“Who gives a shit! It tastes good either way,” Rafe leant forward, snatching the bottle from your hands, taking a large swig. You drunkenly laughed before pulling him into a kiss.

Music blared as the party pumped around you. Topper, who was sitting on the other side of Rafe, rolled his eyes.

“It’s ‘mow-ey’ if you’re show-ey and Mo-et if you know-it,” he said taking the bottle from Rafe’s hand, pouring the bubbly liquid into two flutes and passing them back to you and Rafe, “so please, be classy.”

You immediately downed the drink in one go, tipping your head back as you went.

“Or,” one of Rafe’s other friends drawled, reaching into his back pocket, “we could do some of this.”

You eyed the bag of leafy green substance. You held onto Rafe’s bicep, as he grabbed the bag from his friend’s fingers.

You were slouched on the couch, Rafe lazily slung over your middle as you stoked his hair.

“Do you ever wish we had a normal childhood?”

Your high took away your inhibitions, your mouth moving before your brain could stop it. Rafe swivelled in his spot below you, glancing up at your face. He thought about what he had the other night: the void in his chest, the feeling of being unloved, but the feeling of doing whatever the hell you wanted when you wanted was so freeing, but was it freeing enough? He answered honestly.

“I…I don’t know.”

The maids come around too much

Parents ain't around enough

Too many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar

“Why is your house always being cleaned? How does it even have enough time to get dirty again?”

You laughed at Rafe’s question as you led him into the garage.

“You know my mother, she’s a germaphobe. One speck of dust and she brings the cleaning day forward a half a week!”

You opened the door to the garage, smiling as Rafe’s jaw dropped. He inspected the glistening gold, pristinely kept Jag.

“Now, my parents are out of town, which is the only reason I’m letting you do this,” you pointed your finger at him, before tossing him the keys. As he ran past you to the car, he planted a kiss on your cheek, swinging open the driver’s side door, “Please be so careful, my Dad will kill me if we do anything happens to it.”

You joined him in the car, smiling as he delicately ran his hands over the interior, little ‘oh my God’s escaping his lips. He placed the key in the ignition, hearing the car turn on, allowing an appreciative moan to escape his lips.

“Let’s take this baby for a spin!”

Too many white lies and white lines

Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends

Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends

You walked inside the party, Rafe’s friends immediately ushering him away from you.

“Look, what I’ve got.”

Rafe’s eyes train in on the white powdery substance in the small plastic bag. He gulped. He’d drunk and done drugs before, sure. But cocaine was different. Although its white colour glistened against the glass of the table, its darkness was encompassing.

“Babe! Where are you?”

Rafe heard you call his name. He hushed the boys around him.

“Later, later.”

He ran up the stairs, finding you and spinning you around, capturing your lips in a kiss. It caught you off guard, but you melted into it.

You hummed as he released you before capturing the sight over his shoulder.

“Ew gross. Cocaine is disgusting. Makes people so violent. Promise me you won’t become like them,” you caressed Rafe’s face nodded your head towards the guys behind him.

“Yeah of course. I would never,” he nodded, allowing you to drag him away, casting one final look at the white powdered table as you went.

It was hours later, and you still couldn’t find Rafe. He left you at the beer pong table to go to the bathroom, but had never returned. You weaved your way through the party, before his blue polo caught your eye. He was hunched over a table, a group of rowdy, aggressive boys surrounding him, one hand up to nose. You stomped over to where he was faced away from you, tapping his shoulder harshly.

He rose, turning his head, catching sight of you. He stood to his feet quickly, hastily wiping the white under his nose.

“Y/N, I—” he started, but your raised hand cut him off.

“No Rafe, I’m just… so disappointed, I really didn’t think this was you.” He looked like a scorned puppy, eyes wide and lip pouted. Problem was, he was meant to be your ride tonight. All your things, including your car, at his house. But very obviously he could not drive. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Give me your keys. I’m leaving. I don’t care if you come or not.”

He quickly fished into his pocket, handing you the keys as you continued to glare at him. You stalked away. He felt one of the boys hands come to grasp his shoulder as another laughed.

“Bro, your Mrs is mad!”

“She’s gonna give you the best angry sex—"

“Just, shut up!” Rafe snapped angrily. The rage burning inside of him was like nothing he had ever felt before. The heat rose, as if steam emitted from his years, his skin felt like it was on fire. He shrugged the guy’s hand off his shoulder, jogging to catch you before you left.

Real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love

You and Rafe had just exited the Golf Club, walking hand in hand towards his car. It was your 6 month anniversary. You celebrated with an amazing meal, and Rafe even surprised you with an amazing new dress and shoes for the evening. You were super impressed he had managed to pick it out, but understood more when he said he had gotten Sarah’s help. Regardless, it flattered you, as he had clearly been paying attention as the dress was the same one you had eyed off shopping together just weeks previous.

The chilly night air hit your skin causing you to shiver. Rafe let go of your hand, shrugging off his suit jacket, before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you smiled. You reached his car, leaning against the passenger side door as Rafe held both your hands, “I had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” he pulled your head up to meet his, placing his lips gently on yours. This kiss felt different than the others, more passionate, slower and more tender. Rafe pulled away looking into your eyes. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach, like it was summer, butterflies floating around. His knees felt weak, as he whispered, “I love you.”

He had never said it before. He don’t even think he had felt it before, ever. He didn’t get this feeling when he was with other girls or his family. He felt nervous, worried that this wasn’t the feeling he was meant to have.

“I love you too,” the anxiety pulsating through his body subsided when he heard those words. He pulled you in for another kiss and he knew. This was what it was meant to be like: love. Real love.

We end our day up on the roof

I say I'll jump, I never do

But when I'm drunk I act a fool

Talking 'bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits

You had reached the Cameron house, following Rafe up to his room. He immediately moved across the room, stepping outside his large window. You huffed, following him, knowing your argument wasn’t over. You sat next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest, looking out over the trees, looking as if they were glistening under the moonlight.

“You know, sometimes, I think it would be easier if I jumped.”

His voice was solemn, yet serious. He sounded as if it was something he had genuinely considered, hard expression staring off into the middle distance.

“Rafe,” you started, but he continued.

“I think, it would be so much easier to just end this life, start the next. See what’s in store for the afterlife. But then I think, would there even be a spot for a person like me in heaven?”

You didn’t know what to say. Your skin felt hot and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“You’re not a bad person, you just… do stupid stuff sometimes,” you tried to calm him. But his expression didn’t change.

I'm on that ledge, she grabs my arm

She slaps my hand

It's good times, yeah

Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall

The market's down like 60 stories

He was stood now, but his feet were unsteady. He looked almost unwell, sweat beaded across his forehead. You stood slowly arms outstretched, watching as his feet shuffled. They took one too many little steps, missing one of the roof tiles, causing him to wobble.

“Rafe!” you screamed, reaching forward grabbing his arm. You used all the strength in your body to pull him towards you. It worked but sent both of you falling back onto the roof. He landed next to you. You groaned as you sat up, rubbing your elbows which took the brunt of your fall.

“What the fuck was that Y/N?” his voice was gravely. He shoved you away from him, as he struggled to get to his feet again. You stood slowly.

“What the fuck was what? You were gonna fall, Rafe!” you yelled back, your face holding a bewildered expression.

He felt the fire burning inside once again. But now the voices that had been drowned out from the sticky substance flying up his nose, had begun crawling out of the void

No one loves you.

Your father thinks you’re a failure.

No one loves you.

You’re not gonna get anywhere.

Why would she love you?

“I don’t need your fucking help, okay?” His voice was venomous. You could feel droplets of spit hit your face, burning as if they were poisonous. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to scream, “I’ve never wanted it. You were a good fuck, but you don’t mean anything to me!”

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered. It was the drugs talking. He was Rafe, your Rafe, and he loved you.

“Yeah, I do.” The certainty in his voice was piercing. The voices were egging him on: you mean it, you mean it. But really, he felt it. Nothing meant anything to him. The void was swallowing him up whole and he didn’t want to take you with him. “Everything in my life is shit, okay? Including you. I don’t need you telling me what to do and I especially don’t need you for anything else. We’re done.”

Tears were falling rapidly down your face. His expression was so hard, it alone couldn’t have cracked your heart. Sobs began escaping from your lips, watching as he breathed heavily. This was not the boy you fell in love with. This was the shell, overtaken by his self-loathing and unfulfillment. You wiped your face, collecting yourself.

“So what that’s it?” you asked, already knowing the answer. Rafe didn’t say anything, the only movement coming from him being the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “I really hope you figure out whatever’s going on with you,” your voice was so shaky the words nearly didn’t come out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hastily climbed back through the window, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

The heat had subsided from Rafe’s body as he watched you leave. Your tears had dampened enough of the fire for him to realise what he had just done.

She never loved you.

You’re a failure.

How could anyone ever love you?

He heard your car start from the driveway, seeing the red reflection of your lights against the trees get dimmer and dimmer. You were gone. And you were never going to come back.

And some don't end the way they should

My silver spoon has fed me good

A million one, a million cash

Close my eyes and feel the crash

So you and Rafe broke up. You’d run into each other at parties occasionally, barely making eye contact and definitely never speaking. Over time you showed up with a new boyfriend, clad in designer wear. Rafe continued to hand in the corner, snorting blow and a bottle Moet in his hands, desperately clinging to the last thing he had left, you.

The Cameron money stood well over time, aiding Rafe and his addiction. But every snort came at a different kind of price. His emptiness grew larger and wider, fully encircling his body. The only thing reminding him he was alive was the pit in his stomach, ignited every time he got high.

At night when he would close his eyes, begging slumber to take him he would see your face. The wind blowing through your hair. Your smile. What it felt like to feel loved. Something he hadn’t felt until he met you and hadn’t felt since he lost you. He was empty and unloved.

Real love, ain't that something rare

I'm searching for a real love, talking 'bout real love

Real love, yeah

Real love

I'm searching for a real love

Talkin' 'bout a real love

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I never really write angst jsjdjajsj but lemme know what you thought.

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#rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #drew starkey #obx #obx fanfiction #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe outerb #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Note

Chance/Faith - ‘ what did you dream of? ’

Hello there once again! I do hope that you enjoy this short piece!

tw for drug use and mention. also for my dumb tongue in cheek jokes.

just under 2k

There’s something to be said about the peace that comes with sitting on the roof of some building. Hell just being up high always had its appeal to Chance, it was the coming down that left him sick. Maybe not the act of falling itself, that also provided some peace, but finding yourself back on the ground. The reality of being present, alive, stopped being fun the moment he had nothing but coming to his knees at the mere thought of them….of all that he had lost. Being grounded was overrated. Being grounded was pain. Being grounded was accepting the truth….something Chance had never been very good at.

To be high, in the sky, drunk enough to no longer keep steady on the ground….that was freedom….happiness. Even if it was set to kill him sooner than people wanted.

Catching the black smoke rising in the distance he smirks, giving a shake of his head, it’s the fourth one he can spot looking over the border of the Valley and Hebane. The gunfire Chance can just barely make out in the distance has him leaning back letting the sun warm the skin he’s sure is starting to look red rather than sunkissed. He probably should have stuck to the drinking after being arrested, he probably would have gotten another year of life. He definitely wouldn’t be in the middle of some war he never wanted to start or even end if he was being honest.

He takes a deep breath catching the hints of memories from when he was a teenager dying in the tight black clothing on this same roof in the height of summer. Back then Chance was just starting to experiment with drinking more and smoking weed while he dated some daughter of a successful real estate agent from New York, her hair the same color as Rachel’s. The eyes were a straight blue and her voice was a bit too gruff, she blamed it on always yelling for a taxi in the big city, and she was too self centered. It was only her hair that he liked.

Chance huffs, sitting up as he pulls out the stolen joint letting it find a place between his lips, testing the lighter once before he settles himself more. According to Hurk the joint was filled with some of the best weed in the world and how he saved it before some guy named Jason burned the whole farm down. Of course Jason was someone that Hurk met while out in Malaysia and really Chance should have been there to take down some guy that could almost rival Joesph in the crazy department. The exaggeration of the story Hurk had weaved for Chance still makes him chuckle, even now as he takes a drag letting the smoke sit in his lungs and envelop his tongue for a minute.

He let’s the smoke circle around him, closing his eyes, the high kicking in almost as fast as the Bliss does. “At least you’re right about it being some of the best,” Chance mumbles, bringing a knee up to rest his arm on while he watches over the activity he can’t really see. He’s about halfway through the joint when he feels someone watching him from below. Chance leans over catching the glimmer of her light brown hair, golden in the afternoon sun, before her blue-green eyes smile at him. “You’re pretty far out for just some casual stroll, don’t you think?”

He smirks as Faith rolls her eyes playfully, “Could say the same about you, Chance,” she tilts her head, looking to the stairs of crates leading to the roof, “Mind if I join you?”

Chance shrugs, letting out the latest drag, “Long as you can promise Jarhead or Gaston Wannabe aren’t waiting in the treeline to take me in.”

Faith begins the climb up the crates shaking her head, “Now why would I do that?” She smoothes out the skirt of the white lace of her dress, sitting next to him, taking the joint from his fingertips, “I don’t really like sharing you as it is.”

He watches her for a moment, taking in the way her hair shifts from brown to blonde at the whims of the breeze blowing, how her lips curve in a small smile as she inhales the smoke, and her eyes closing for a moment before handing the joint back to him. His heart tugs towards her, the suspicions he’s been having coming to the forefront of his mind. She can’t really be the same girl, there was no way. Tracey didn’t know Rachel like he does….did. Like he did. Seeing Faith like this though….Chance can’t help but see an older version of Rachel from that high school photo when she was a freshman, the last picture anyone had of her. He shakes the thoughts from his head, it was all probably a lingering hallucination from Bliss. Why wouldn’t it be possible for it to show you someone that you really wanted?

“What are you thinking about,” her voice pulls him back to the roof, the smile she wears before laughing, “Anyone home up there?”

He laughs in return, “This stuff really does live up to the hype it was given.”

Faith hums, leaning back on her hands, “So what did it make you think about?”

“The past,” Chance mutters, flicking the ash off, “This place brings back too many memories.”

“What kind of memories?” She asks sweetly.

“Summers up here, people I’ll probably never see again,” he says, balancing the joint between his lips as he searches for his phone, “Nothing special really.”

He lets out an a-ha finding it in his pocket, “Those people you think you’ll never see again,” Faith starts, Chance giving a nod for her to continue as he searches through the playlists, “Can I ask who they are?”

Chance settles on a song by Ghost, letting the music fill the silence while he takes what will be one of the last drags of this joint. He mulls over the answer as the smoke fills his lungs once more, passing the rest of it to Faith. “A girl.” Faith slides her gaze towards him slowly, “One of the few reasons I would have the possibility of being more comfortable with this place.”

“She an old girlfriend?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Just an old pipe dream.”

The silence falls quickly, Chance letting it stay for the length of a song, gripping for something lighter to talk about with her. She lets her head rest on his shoulder, fingers becoming entwined with his, “We’ve heard rumors about you, Chance.”

His heart rate slows after the initial surprise of her touch, his free hand closing over her chilled fingers, “If they’re from Gossip Girl, take it with a grain of salt.”

She laughs, giving a light slap on his chest, “Be nice. John’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind next time he’s got me strapped down and a knife to my throat.”

“But seriously though, many of the locals say that this wasn’t your first choice of a career.”

“I don’t think being the pawn in some supposed prophecy is anyone’s first choice in a career.”

“You’d be surprised actually,” Chance arches a brow at her response, “Again though can you let me finish?”

“Don’t I always?” He smirks, ”Thought you said that was my best quality.”

Faith groans, “Chance! Focus,” she takes a deep breath shifting to better lay against him, “What did you dream of being when you were younger?”

“Pfft, you seriously want to know that?” She nods, “Why?”

“Curiosity,” she states.

“Will you tell me yours?”

Faith thinks for a moment, tracing the tattoos on his hands, “Only if you tell me the truth.”

Chance lets out a sigh, keeping his eyes focused on the open space before him, “I wanted to be like Dad,” Rachel would have known that. “Your turn.”

“We didn’t have any dreams,” she giggles, the tone contrasting with the weight of what she’s just said, “What was the point when there wasn’t a chance we’d get anywhere close to them.”

“Something to aspire to,” he offers, “Keep you going. Keep you living.”

“Do you still have that dream? Wanting to be like your father?” Her voice flows almost like a song, drawing him in each time. There’s some resistance from him today as it feels almost inappropriate with their conversation.

“Sure. I was on my way once before,” he shrugs, “Why couldn’t that happen again?”

Her eyes are big, taking in every movement in his face and eyes, there’s a tingle along his skin the longer she stays looking at him like that. It doesn’t feel bad, but it also wasn’t the one he wanted to be feeling with her this close. Finally she blinks slowly, the shadow of her smile persisting as she looks at him now with such care, “Then why haven’t you felt like living in a long time?”

Chance jerks away, staring her down, heart pounding in his ears, “The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not suicidal.” He moves away from her shaking his head, jaw tight, “I just like to have fun. That’s it.”

“No one doubts that, Chance,” she stays in place, not even attempting to reach for him like she’s done before, “There’s just this….emptiness inside of you. We can feel it. Can understand it.”

“So?” She’s finally positioned herself to have the dark evergreens as a backdrop for her face.

“You can be helped and we can do that, Chance,” she urged softly, “You took help once before, what makes taking help from us so different?”

“Hilarious. I’ve given you multiple speeches on why that is.” Why is she being so pushy all of a-, A flicker of light dances just above her hair, much like a firefly and easier to see with the darker colors against her, Of course. He exhales sharply, “I’d remind you once more but,” Stupid. I knew she’d never have been this far out, he thinks, readying himself to leave, “ghosts don’t really remember unless it suits them anyway.”

“Chance wait,” they call out, crawling across the roof once he’s jumped down from it, “Come back. We can talk again. Just you and me.”

“Nice try!” He barks out, eyes cast down as his fingers work to untangle the headphones enough to get him back to the road, “I’m not coming back. Not going to fall for it again.” He finally has the earbuds in place, turning to point at the figment of his desire, “Not today Siren! Not today!” The woods are replaced by the screams of a man who’s fallen for someone he shouldn’t have. Her lips….my poison….How stupid could I be trying to pursue her?, He ground his teeth, nails digging into his palms as he mouthed the lyrics, I can’t even tell when she’s real….Just like they planned her to be.

That was the worst part of being sucked into the hell hole of Bliss, you saw who and what you wanted and they were always idyllic, making it too tempting to stay. Chance slowed, seeing a field of white coming straight at him. Tracey had said she and Faith were friends once upon a time and maybe they were or maybe, just like with him, the drugs made her think it was her old friend. Someone long dead and gone to her. It just makes her look like how Rachel probably would. Nothing more. The one person that could make Hope County more bearable for him….The one mistake he could have fixed after all this time.

#look I think i'm hilarious at times and sometimes i am but i love my meta jokes #see my love for legends and their meta #also look at me finishing something in a timely manner #lets hope it sticks as I feel my anxiety kick up #also sorry for the time of day I wanted to get this posted before I head off to work for the night #x: emo flower child #a chance for faith #faithxoc #chance ruicknar oc #faith seed #faith seed fc5

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

By the Roots

Scout & Soldier, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 2: Family

Of all the people, all the people on the damn planet, it really shouldn’t have been Soldier that figured it.

“You there! I saw that, pipsqueak!” he demanded not two days after the team was first assembled, storming at me across the training yard like I’d already done something wrong. “Regulation warm-up is fifty pushups, not ten and then exclaiming very loudly ‘FIFTY’ as you do that last one! Do not think because you are a woman I will go easy on you. In fact! I will be riding your ass twice as hard so you will be encouraged to measure up to your clearly more dedicated male counterparts!”

There were a lot of things I could object to in that, a lot of things I was planning to object to, but one thing in particular surprised me so much it practically hit me upside the head. “Whoa, hey dude! I ain’t a chick!”

Soldier lifted his helmet with a thumb and peered down at me. “You are not?”

“No a’course I’m not!” I said, flabbergasted. “Would a chick have sick muscles like this? Or like this?” I should off each of my amazing and impressive biceps in turn, a little shocked that he wasn’t falling over in awe due to their sheer awesomeness. “I am peak dude, pally. Why would you even think that?”

“Your small stature, your chicken legs, your feminine jaw, your general weakness, the unending gab from your motor mouth-” Soldier ticked them off on his fingers.

I swatted down his hands. “Dude, jeez, I get it.”

He considered me again. “…You are sure you are not a very petite yet tomboyish girl?”

“Uh, yeah pally,” I scoffed. “I think I’d know.”

Twenty-two months later, my hard earned ponytail fitting snugly through my hat, I wondered if Soldier knew, somehow. That was stupid obviously—Soldier was completely bonkers even by the team’s standards, and if every weirdly nonsensical thing he’d ever said was true then I’d also be a spy from ten different countries and partially made of ranch dressing. But. I guess some small part of me liked the idea that it was apparent to someone. That there was some hard truth out there, and somehow Soldier was in tune with the weird songs of the universe enough to prophesize me even before I’d divined myself.

I was pretty far from the team’s campfire, the rush of the last hour still coursing through my system. It’d gone as well as I could have hoped, with everyone kind of knowing or at least suspecting by this point anyway, but I’d still been nice to get it all out in the open. A little family meeting of sorts. I smiled, watching them laugh and carry on with their drinking.

“Is something the matter, Scout?”

Spy’s voice startled me, but I totally didn’t jump or nothing, just turned my head as the creepy bastard slinked out of the dark.

“Nah,” I told him. “Was just a lot of adrenaline doing all that. Needed a moment to cool off. Not like I’m nervous or nothin’! Could’a talked about shit all day if those knuckleheads didn’t get it through their bozo craniums, but it’s just like after a run you take a breather to make sure you don’t get heat stroke or something-”

Spy held up a hand. “I understand. No need to elaborate.”

“Great. Cool. Just so you know that I’m not freakin’ out.”

He took a spot next to me, the rocks cool where the desert night came on fast and hit hard. We stayed like that for a while, him smoking, me staring with my chin in my arms.

“You come out here to say you’re surprised or something?” I asked, after the moon had ticked a little lower.

He blew a strand of smoke. “It wasn’t my primary goal, no.” He paused. “Though I was, to be sure.”

“Hah! Yeah you were! You should’ve seen your face.” I grinned, kicking a rock. “I can’t believe you were the last person to find out.”

“…I certainly couldn’t have been the last person to-” Spy stopped when he saw the shit-eating grin I was giving him. “Hm. Fine, I suppose I will take this as a loss to my professional pride.”

“Heh. Nice,” I snorted. “So if that isn’t what you wanted to talk about, what was?”

He hesitated a moment. “Scout if I have ever said something, to you or merely in passing that was…greatly insensitive, then I am sorry. I cannot hide the fact that this is not something I have experience with, and if my past ignorance has ever caused you distress then I apologize fully.”

I blinked. Was he serious? “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Ah, so I have made some faux pas. Again I’m sorry-”

“No,” I interrupted him. “I mean seriously, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause I don’t.”

Spy looked genuinely confused, already the second time that night when I’d barely seen him make that face in two years of working together. “Pardon?”

“I don’t really care about what you say,” I shrugged. “When it comes to things that bother me, crap my Ma’s shitty boyfriend says about how I look barely makes the list. After however many years of the way you’ve treated me, I’ve just kinda tuned you out.” I shrugged again. “How it is.”

“…Ah.”

I kinda missed when he was surprised, since that was at least easy to read. Now I didn’t know what to make of the mix of emotions crossing Spy’s face, only that I was sorta bored of the conversation.

“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’m heading back to the fire,” I said, smacking my legs as I stood. “Cold out here.”

I left Spy, not checking to see if he was still doing that thing with his face.

I honestly was planning on heading over to the fire, but I saw Soldier sitting on the bed of Engie’s truck, not doing anything but staring into space as he sipped his beer. It wasn’t even conscious really, I just suddenly found my feet moving in his direction, abandoning warmth for the lunatic with the bazooka. The weird things we do on instinct sometimes.

“Yo, Major General,” I greeted. “Feel like the smartest guy in the room yet?”

“I have never claimed to be!” Soldier said. “I settle for being the most tactically sound.”

“I meant about me, dumbass,” I rolled my eyes, then hopped on the bed next to him. I scooped up a beer while I was at it.

“You?” He might have been blinking at me under the helmet.

“One of the first times we ever met, you asked me if I was a chick.”

Soldier rubbed his chin, trying to recall. “…You said you weren’t.”

“Well I didn’t know at the time, dumbass.” I cracked my beer. “But now we all know, so congrats to you, pally.” I toasted in his general direction and drank.

“…How is it?”

“The beer or the chick thing?”

“Being a girl.”

“It’s alright,” I admitted, playing it cool. “The ponytail’s great though. Look! I can do this now.” I bobbled my head, showing that my hat stayed on no matter how hard I shook it. I kept bobbling until I almost fell off the truck, Soldier steadying me at the last moment.

“Careful, missy. You’re going to need to cut that soon if you don’t want it smacking you in the middle of battle,” Soldier pointed out. “That or braid it.”

My hand clamped defensively over the back of my head. “Nah, no way man.” Hearing how whiny that sounded, I tried to pass off my sudden movement as a stretch. “It’s fine. Plus I don’t even know how to braid.”

“…I could do it for you.”

Of all the batshit things Soldier had said to me over the years, this took the cake. “You? Know how to braid?”

I wanted to ask if he was pulling my leg right now, but his expression was just as dead serious as ever. He pointed downward and made a circular motion.

Hesitantly, I turned around, and felt him lift off my cap. The ponytail threaded out of it, and he tugged at the elastic until my hair fell free around my shoulders. I’d seen myself with it down in the mirror every morning before pulling it up, but it still felt odd to have it hanging free here in the same place we killed BLUs and got our guts blasted full of lead. Soldiers fingers carded through the loose strands, dividing them into chunks, but despite that it wasn’t nearly as weird as I thought it would be. It was actually…nice almost.

He wasn’t gentle—this was still Soldier after all—but the tugging at my roots was more pull than yank, a careful suggestion to go one way or the other. Nudging me towards something.

“How’d you learn to do this, anyway?” I asked.

“Used to do my sister’s,” he said gruffly. “Little sisters can’t do anything by themselves. They always try to follow you around, and then they get in trouble or fall in a creek or something.”

His fingers brushed against my neck every now and again. “As a professional little sister, that sounds about right.”

“You are not a professional little sister. You are a professional Scout. What sister-ing you do, you do on your own time missy.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Soldier slipped the elastic around the braid’s end. I swung it around a few times, trying to see if Soldier had messed it up somehow, but only managed to almost fall off the truck bed again. Maybe that beer was really hitting me.

“…Thanks Solly,” I said, gently touching the braid’s end.

“Any time, private. If you need me to teach you, I will happily train you in the art of braids,” he declared. “And knot tying! But only if you meet my standards on the braid portion of the exam.”

I grinned at him. I’d done a lot of weeding, taking out the people and things I didn’t want in my life, but it was nice to know there were things I wouldn’t have to get rid of entirely. “Sure Soldier. I’ll think about it.”

#dnadprideweek2021 #tf2 fanfiction

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avnkin · 4 years

Text

The Pogues - Chapter 2 // Making Amends

Pairing: jj maybank x reader

Warnings: swearing, little bit of underage drinking, smoking

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: You were a kook, born and raised but when a messy breakup with your boyfriend takes place you find comfort in the people who you’d been taught to despise and keep away from your entire life, the pogues.

(A/N): sorry this took me so long to post,, i’ve been studying for exams but now i’m finally done sooo I can focus on this fic!! this isn’t the best but I needed to upload something but just know the juicy parts haven’t even begun ;)) also this lacks proofreading so just bare with me lmaoo

series masterlist

It was the day after Midsummers and you hadn’t stopped thinking about JJ, it was kind of annoying actually, you didn’t want to think about him or let alone any guy at all, but it was hard JJ was the kind of guy to leave an impression, the kind of guy who would be stuck on your mind for the next couple of days, so as you sat in your bed aimlessly flicking through the magazine that rested on your lap, you felt yourself zoning out as you let your thoughts be consumed with him.

“Y/N!” Sarah’s sudden yell broke you from your trance, startling you as you stared wide eyed at her, your face a question mark, she had come over to your place to spend the night, she couldn’t wait to tell you all about her adventures with John B, you had to admit you were pretty jealous, you missed having someone next to you when falling asleep it was an awful lot lonelier than you thought it would be, but you knew it was for the best, maybe you needed to be by yourself for some time now.

“Yeah?” you replied closing the magazine and laying it onto the empty space on the bed beside you “John B asked me to come with him to meet the guys later so I can- I don’t know make up with Kiara or something and since you’re the bestest friend in the whole entire world I was wondering if you’d come with me” you looked up at her puzzled “what” you spoke finding nothing else fitting to say “the girl hates me Y/N, hates me! And you’re really good at getting people to like you plus if they’re going to be my new friends that means they’re gonna be your new friends, where I go you go” she spoke content with her words.

“No” you stated grabbing the magazine again continuing flipping through the pages “no? what do you mean no Y/N please I need you there as my back up incase I don’t know Kiara attacks me” Sarah pouted “won’t John B be there?” you asked raising an eyebrow at her “Yes but I want you there as well” you let your head fall back as you groaned “fine i’ll come with” Sarah squealed in excitement engulfing you in a hug as she mumbled thank you over and over again into your shoulder.

“But-okay look if I tell you something you have to promise that you’ll pretend like you know nothing about it later, okay promise” Sarah asked sitting opposite you and raising one pinky finger in the air “and that you won’t laugh!” she added, you rolled your eyes but sure enough locked your finger with hers “pinky promise” you smiled awaiting Sarah’s response. “Okay they’re looking for the royal merchant gold and I actually think they fucking found it” you took a minute to stare at her wondering if she was joking or not “Sarah people have been looking for that gold for like a hundred years do you really think someone like John B found it?” you chuckled shaking your head “yes I do” she stated firmly, you rolled your eyes before saying “let’s get going”.

Once you and Sarah had taken a seat on John B’s front porch you could practically see the anger fuming off of Kiara at your sudden presence “no effing way!” she scoffed looking over in your direction “you brought them here? so what? they’re in on this now?” John B looked utterly terrified as he looked over at JJ and Pope hoping they would back him up “I dunno” Pope simply shrugged looking over at JJ.

“Look man all I care about is their cut comes out of your share” JJ spoke causing you to scoff “all of us aren’t rich and spoiled like you princess” JJ declared raising an eyebrow at you “I’m not spoi-” Kiara cut you off “I don’t remember taking a vote, this is our thing, a Pogue thing!” You and Sarah both rolled your eyes in unison glancing over at each other.

“Look i’m just a tad uncomfortable with all of this” Pope said causing a small chuckle to slip out of your mouth as Kiara mumbled a thank you “when are you not uncomfortable?!” John B argued “well I don’t know I rode here on the back of JJ’s bike quite comfortably”

“It’s true most relaxed i’ve ever seen him” JJ said “maybe this wasn’t the best idea-” you began to say but before you could finish Kiara cut you off “you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought them here” you groaned regretting letting Sarah drag you into this mess, you were clearly not wanted like she had tried to convince you the entire car ride here. “Stop talking about us like we’re not here” Sarah’s voice could be heard from beside you “then leave!”

You scoffed turning in Sarah’s direction “I told you” crossing your arms over your chest you got ready to leave only to have Sarah pull you down again “told her what exactly that she’s a liar-” Kiara began but Sarah obviously didn’t want to listen to her anymore “no that you’re a shit talking bitch” your eyes went wide at Sarah’s words, you’d never in your many years of friendship heard her talk to someone like that. “Oh my god” you laughed one hand covering your mouth as you looked between Kiara and Sarah.

Suddenly everyone was talking, yelling and screaming over each other, until you heard Kiara give John B an ultimatum “me or her?” She commanded, everyone went silent at her words eyes diverting between John B and Kiara. “Both” he stated causing Kiara to scoff, angrily turning around and making her way off of John B’s porch.

“Can I just say you handled that beautifully” JJ snickered sarcasm evident in his tone. “Listen Sarah-” John B began ignoring JJ “No it’ll be fine right?” Sarah scoffed quoting John B on his previous words to her “we’re leaving” she finally stated grabbing your hand and leading you back to the car.

“Well that went like shit” you huffed as soon as you both got inside the vehicle “shut up” Sarah whined slamming her face onto the steering wheel “how the hell is our relationship going to work if his best friend hates me” you honestly felt bad for her you knew John B was a good guy and that Sarah hadn’t been to lucky in her previous relationships “we’ll fix it” you reassured her “somehow” you added underneath your breath “how are we going to fix this Y/N” Sarah doubted hands tightening around the steering wheel.

But as she went to start the car JJ quickly ran in front of it preventing you from driving away “what the hell” you questioned getting out of the car and walking towards him “John B wants us all to go out on the water to you know blow off some steam after- whatever that was back there” JJ insisted resting his hand on the hood of Sarah’s car, you looked over at Sarah questioningly and she just nodded giving you her answer.

Luckily Sarah always kept some extra bikinis in her trunk so you didn’t have to drive all the way back to figure 8 and then back to the cut simply to get some swimwear and towels.

Being out on the water was something you really needed, as you lay at the front of the boat Sarah next to you letting the sun devour every part of your skin, you felt somewhat problem free for the first time in weeks.

“Enjoying the view?” you chuckled since JJ’s staring hadn’t gone unnoticed, he didn’t seem faced by your words only moving his sunglasses to the tip of his nose as he continued to check you out “indeed I am” he hummed before taking another swig of the beer he held in his hands.

“Uh girls can you go get us some- uhm food from the cabin” John B’s voice could suddenly be heard from behind you, you found it weird that he was asking both of you to do it but then again, he was a bit weird.

“Sure” Sarah replied giving you a confused glance as you followed her down the small stairs and into the cabin “I don’t see anything” you mumbled looking around the small storage space, you were about to turn back around, Sarah following behind when the door above you was abruptly slammed shut, Sarah quickly ran towards it banging her fists with all her strength against it, this is it you were both going to die was all you could think as you stared at the closed door.

A couple of minutes had gone by when you finally decided enough was enough pushing Sarah out of the way and repeatedly slamming your fists against the door. When it finally swung open you were not expecting to see who was now stood in front of you “Kiara?” you questioned but she didn’t reply, rushing to the front of the boat you quickly followed her Sarah hot on your heels “get your asses back here!” Kiara demanded, your eyes went wide once you noticed the three boys had abandoned the boat leaving the three of you behind “we can’t, not until you guys figure this out!” John B yelled back climbing up onto the boat Pope and JJ were stood on “I don’t have anything to do with this!” you yelled back gesturing between Sarah and Kiara, you were going to kill her for dragging you into this mess.

“We don’t care they’re your friends” JJ winked saluting you as they started the boat “I will kill every single one of you!” Kiara threatened but the boys didn’t seem faced at her words “you can’t just leave!” Sarah pleaded hoping John B would change his mind “There’s food in the cooler and JJ rolled a blunt” Pope yelled raising his thumbs up in the air “hydroponic!” JJ added.

“fucking assholes” you muttered watching the boat sail away into the distance. An awkward silence quickly filled the air as the three of you stood in a circle eyes darting between each other, you had never felt so out of place in your entire life.

“I’m down for some weed” you finally broke the silence, you’d never in your life smoked before but thought since Kiara often did it it would be a good way to break the tension.

Kiara motioned for you to follow her as she searched the boat for JJ’s box which always contained his weed and lighter. When she finally found it she made her way to the front of the boat taking a seat next to you and immediately lighting the blunt, she passed it to you after a couple of seconds, you took a small hit, surprised you didn’t cough but as you were about to hand it to Sarah, Kiara quickly snatched it out of your hand “actually” she spoke, putting the blunt up to her lips and taking yet another hit.

“Really” Sarah scoffed snatching it away from her “go easy” Kiara warned “it’s JJ’s cousins cripple” Sarah ignored her raising the blunt up to her lips and taking way to big of a hit, she immediately started coughing as she breathed out the smoke Kiara rolling her eyes as she glared down at the two of you.

A couple of hours later it had gotten dark and it was obvious that Sarah was high as a kite, she kept asking the both of you very strange would you rather questions, you didn’t feel anything having only taken one hit of the blunt.

Sarah kept on pestering Kiara till she finally snapped “Oh my god! enough of the ‘hey Kiara’ bullshit, why’d you do it?” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you looked between the two girls “I don’t know what you mean-” Sarah began but Kiara cut her off “we we’re best friends, we stole beer from your dads fridge, cried about boys and the next thing I know i’m watching your birthday party happen from instagram” you felt partly guilty, having spammed your stories and close friends with endless of videos and pictures from that night.

They continued talking about Kiara having called the cops to shut down the party and that when people got close to Sarah she bails, she had never talked to you about it before so it kind of surprised you, but you didn’t want to butt in, it was a conversation for another day.

As you guys got ready to go to bed Kiara made Sarah promise that she wouldn’t do the same thing to John B, Sarah only nodded resting her head on the pillow before everything went silent between the three of you.

“Also i’m sorry called the cops” Kiara broke the silence causing all three of you burst into fits of laughter “I knew it you bitch” Sarah giggled propping her self up onto her elbows “you should’ve invited me” Kiara replied looking over at Sarah “so you called the cops!?” you cackled “well my birthday’s next weekend so you’re definitely invited to that, wouldn’t want the cops showing up there to” you joked “shut up” Kiara quipped as your laughters faded into the night.

The sound of a boat engine woke you guys up early the next morning, finally you thought as you rubbed your eyes slowly getting up from your sleeping position following the girls back to the front of the boat.

“Don’t give them the satisfaction of thinking this worked” you spoke crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at the boys watching the boat get closer “absolutely not” the girls both agreed with you.

“You gotta admit it was kind of funny” John B could be heard as the boat stopped in front of you, your eyes immediately met JJ’s who stepped towards you reaching his hand out to help you back onto their boat, you could hear the girls bickering with John B and Pope in the background but all your attention was on the boy in front of you.

You tripped slightly as you stepped onto the boat causing JJ’s arms to find your waist holding you steady, “that wasn’t cool” you crossed your arms looking up at him “what stopping you from falling into the water?” he challenged acting clueless “no you know what i’m talking about leaving us there the entire night? Not exactly the best way to get into someones pants” the last part you made sure no one but him heard, his eyes went wide as you sat down behind acting nonchalant as JJ’s eyes glared daggers into yours.

When you finally made it back to the pier you felt relieved to be back on land having felt quite sea sick the entire boat ride here “what was that about a birthday party you were talking about Y/N?” Kiara suddenly asked causing all attention to go to you, you cleared your throat before replying “well my parents are out of town next weekend traveling with Ward and Rose so I decided to have a little get together, you’re all welcome to come” you smiled “no fucking way-” JJ began but Kiara cut him off “we’ll be there”

“Great, guess i’ll see you there” you winked the last part more directed at JJ who quickly removed Kiara’s hand from his mouth giving her a questioning look. Sarah pecked John B on the lips before you both said your goodbyes and headed back to Sarah’s car.

“What the hell?” JJ scolded as he looked back up at Kiara “I don’t wanna go to some kook party, do I look like I like to get the shit beat out of me?” Kiara rolled her eyes “JJ my parents also told me about Wards trip Rafe’s going with them so he won’t be there” Kiara reassured him “let’s just go and if it sucks we’ll leave” John B suggested “for once in my life, I actually agree with JJ” Pope added in “come on guys it’ll be fun” Kiara implored “I’ll think about it” JJ replied watching you walk off in the distance.

tag list: @k-n-e @avashroom @sspidermanss @free-pool-trash @we-are-only-halfway-home93 @k-k0129 @charoum @daygiowvibe @maybebanks @treestarrrrrrrr @whothehellistova @chasefreakinstokes @http-cherries @dolanfivsosxox @laurenroseh90-blog @multifandomlovess @jaazzzzz @tiredfeels @howdyherron @a-baby-dolly @eviction-notice-no666 @voidsxsnets @imagines-and-preferences1216 @elioelioeli0 @iwanttobetracer420 @jjshottub @queen1054 @imsad05 @yelyahryan @sunshinemadds @wwylmlive

strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :( If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!! also please notify me if I forgot to tag you. <33

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix #jj #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #john b imagine #kiara #pope #john b

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seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Prize Buck

I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops

A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics

———————————————

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.

A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.

Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.

“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.

“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.

“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”

There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.

He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.

And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.

By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.

“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.

“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.

You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.

And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.

Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.

He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.

His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.

Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,

“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”

Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.

While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.

You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.

Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:

“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”

So you do.

“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”

When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.

Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.

“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”

You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.

He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.

You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.

As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,

“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”

It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.

“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.

“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”

The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.

Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.

Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.

You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.

“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”

A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.

“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”

#my work #klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves smut #smut #tw drugs #addiction tw #drugs cw #prize buck series

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maybebanks · 4 years

Text

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 10

SERIES FINALE

ch01- ch02 - ch03- ch04- ch05- ch06- ch07 - ch08 - ch09 -ch10

Your attempts to get away from JJ were unsuccessful when your foot made an unbalanced step at the edge of the doc and you stumbled off the edge.

“Y/n!” JJ shouted. You felt his hands grip your waist in an attempt to pull you back, but your center of gravity was too far gone, and instead the both of you splashed into the water.

You gasped for air and JJ immediately sprung up beside you.

At first he wanted to laugh, but he didn’t.

You were snapped back to reality, and you saw JJ. His wet hair was almost in his eyes, but he just looked concerned.

You frowned and watched him as he swam to the latter and climbed out of the water.

You followed him and accepted his hand to help you up.

“You know I’m JJ now, right?” JJ asked.

In times of trauma, your mind could play tricks on you. You truly had seen Rafe. You felt him touching you in places you didn’t want him to.

“I..um..fuck,” you muttered, “I just saw...when you were...” you struggled to form an explanation, would JJ hate you now.

“What happened at midsummers? Becuase I know you were alone with Rafe, and now I know..that he did something,” JJ said. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of any guy messing with you, especially Rafe Cameron, made his blood boil.

“We weren’t alone,” you correct.

JJ furrows his eyebrows.

“His boys. They just watched,” you admitted, forcing yourself not to shiver in disgust.

“He fucking hit you? That mother fucker,” JJ assumed angerly. He started walking away, and you assumed it was to come at Rafe with revenge.

“No,” you said meekly, he was walking away, but he heard it.

“He didn’t hit me. He..uh..” your voice was shaking you knew once JJ knew he would never look at you the same.

“What, Y/n,” JJ demanded.

JJ read your expression, you were afraid, and that’s when JJ knew. Rafe plaid dirty. Rafe knew the best way to get at his girl was by taking her first.

“Y/n, did he,” he paused, “did he touch you? Like for sex-“

JJ stopped taking when you wrapped your shaking arms around his torso. His hands lay at your waist.

“I just- I keep reliving it. I’ve been through worse...like with my dad, but this? If my dad hadn’t come-“

“You don’t have to explain, Y/n. I’ll only kill Rafe if you want me to,”

—

You wanted to let go. Let go of everything. So when JJ pitched his idea, it was music to your ears.

“We should just dip, I mean really. Like Yucatán,” JJ suggested.

“Are you kidding?” John B asked.

“Nah man, I gotta get out of this place,” JJ said. You looked up at him from leaning on his shoulder. You were sitting with him against a tree, you could feel the soft fabric of his worn shirt on your cheek.

Your fingers danced along his wrist as you contemplated this idea, then you placed your hand in his and held his hand.

“I’m in,” you responded.

John B scoffed, “great guys. With what money?”

“We could surf all day, and live off of lobsters we catch with our bare hands,” JJ responded.

You felt a drop of rain, land on your leg. Another followed shortly after. JJ smudged it off your cheek and you smiled softly.

“I have to cover the Pogue,” John B says, heading to the boat and adding a cover so the rain doesn’t damage it.

JJ helped you up and you stood closer than expected.

“I should go home now,” you say.

Before you could turn around, JJ’s hand carressed your face and he leaned in. You could feel his breath fanning over your face.

It all happened so fast.

You wrapped your arms around JJ’s neck and your lips pressed together. Your eyes were closed and you missed looking into his ocean eyes. Your lips moved in just the right way. His soft and gentle kiss causing your blush to deepen.

When you pulled away, he smirked, “Just how you imagined it?”

You scoffed and laughed quietly, “not even close,” you replied, and then moved towards him for another kiss.

Moments later, John B announced that he was heading off to pick up some supplies for the boat.

You and JJ shared a look at the news and laughed as he lead you inside.

You both headed into a bedroom and jumped on the bed.

You and JJ continued to kiss. He pulled away to remove his shirt.

Then, the fact hit you, like a ton of bricks.

You looked down at the floor. Was he..? No. You can’t do this. JJ has slept with so many tourons and lost contact quickly after. You couldn’t loose him. You couldn’t let your father be right.

“Hey, what’s-what’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Um..I just don’t know if...if I want to do this,” you admit.

“Y/n, if this is about-“ JJ began, he lifted up the hem of your shirt and saw the bruises again. They were healing, but still there.

“No, it’s just..my dad said that all you wanted was sex. And-“

JJ reacted quickly, “whoa. Hold up. That is not fucking true. And the fact that you believe that y/n?” JJ sounded offended.

Your heart rate picks up, “you-you hook up with girls, and then...” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence. Your throat was dry and you were struggling to breath.

“Y/n, you are definitely not just a hook up to me,” JJ paused and took a few deep breaths. You could tell his mind was struggling, “I...I love you,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, that wasn’t a phrase you’ve been called in a long time.

“When’s the last time you said that?” You said softly, a smile forming on your face.

“A long time,” he chuckled.

You got up and straddled him and he laid back. You leaned down so your head was on his chest.

You just stayed there for a moment, your ears hearing every beat of his heart.

“I love you too, JJ,”

—

“It’s too hot,” you groaned, flipping your leg out from under the covers.

“It’s not that bad,” JJ replied, wiping his forehead.

You studied him. And then, reluctantly, turned the other way and pulled off your shirt.

You weren’t wearing a bra, to JJ’s surprise. So he was blessed with the view, of your bare back.

You shuffled over and turned onto your stomach. Then looked up at JJ.

He smirks, “you’re gorgeous,” he smiled.

You smiled, and shushed him. Finally, sleep took over.

It was finally morning. JJ was a light sleeper, so the rooster woke him up around 6:00am.

His arm was draped across your stomach as he spooned your.

The thin sheet covered your bare chest. JJ felt comfortable against your bare skin. It was a level of intimacy he had been craving.

Suddenly, you stirred beside him. When you felt his hand on your bare skin, you panicked and jumped up.

You strapped your forearm across your chest to cover your boobs.

“Good morning,” JJ said.

“Oh, JJ. I’m not used to waking up with people. You scared me,”

“Sorry bub. What do you want to do today? I think we should take the pogue out alone. I want to show you this spot in the marsh. I think you’ll love it,”

You smiled, looking around for your shirt, “actually, JJ, I have to get some stuff done at home. But we should hang out Wednesday?”

“I can’t wait two days to see you! What’s so important at home?” JJ groaned.

“Just..certain errands. I’m sorry JJ. I promise to hang later?” You offered.

“You’re staying here for breakfast though,” JJ added.

He found your shirt and he helped you pull it over your head, still keeping your chest covered.

You noticed his hair was a complete mess, his blonde strands pointing in all different directions.

“Bed head,” you smirked as you shuffled his hair around.

He laughed, “I’m gonna get you back for that,”

“You gonna have to wait until Wednesday. I gotta head home,” you said, kissing him on the cheek, and getting out of bed.

JJ followed you to the door, but before you could open it wide enough to walk through, he slammed it shut.

“Wha-“

“No way in hell,” JJ said.

“Excuse me? We’ve been over this, JJ. They’re is nothing-“

“Your bruises are just starting to heal! I’m not going to let him make more,” JJ explained.

“What happened to ‘you’re not what he did to you’? Was that just bullshit!”

“It’s not about the bruises. It’s about you letting him hurt you,” JJ replies.

“He’s my dad! My fucking dad! The one person that’s suppose to love me no matter what. I know he does. I just make him mad sometimes. I’m gonna be better,”

“ No. No no no. This?” JJ paused and featured towards your injuries, “this is not your fault. You don’t understand, I’m trying to keep you safe,”

You rolled your eyes, but truly, you were fighting back tears, “so you’re saying that my dads just a shitty person? That I don’t deserve it?” your voice cracked.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve learned that the hard way,”

“But...but he told me all the bad things. He told me I deserved it,”

“What did he say? That you’re a failure, a worthless piece of shit? What have you done with your life but smoke weed and live on the south side?” He was referring to himself, telling you what he’s been through.

“No one will ever love me.” you replied, “he’s the best I got,”

“Can’t you see me Y/n? I’m right here,” JJ answered.

“But it’s temporary! What if you give up?” You whimper.

“I’m not gonna give up on you Y/n. Not ever,” JJ assured.

After a few seconds of silence, you opened the door.

“I have to go home JJ,” you said quietly.

Did what JJ said mean nothing to you? JJ thought.

“I’m not letting you,” he said stubbornly.

“It’s not your choice,”

-intermission babes. go get some water, or a snack or smth 🦋

“I need you to help me out. And honestly, I don’t know anyone else better,” JJ began.

“I’m listening,”

“So. I know I can’t just throw accusations around like this. But right now. If one of your deputies come with me. I’ll have proof,”

“What exactly is the crime?” Peterkin asks.

“Domestic violence.”

JJ, Peterkin, and some random deputy, were at your house. A stakeout, if you will.

No one has said anything, and truly, JJ didn’t know if he could handle seeing you hurt. When he saw your dad choking you at midsummers, he nearly lost it, and earned a black eye from your father.

A few minutes later, you arrived. You had stopped at the Wreak to pick up your paycheck after waking up with JJ.

You entered through the front door, and slammed it a little too hard.

“Look who...decided to show up,” your father slurred, his voice raspy from just waking up.

“Hi dad,” you greeted, there was evident fear in your voice, or at least that’s what JJ heard.

“Why don’t you come over here? I can’t see you,” he asked.

You stepped closer to him, hesitantly.

“Where were you last night?” He asked. Your father was quite controlling, that was the difference between you and JJ.

“Working, again,” you replied, attempting to dodge him.

He laughed satanicaly, “see that’s funny. Because I went to the Wreck, and they said, you don’t work on sundays, ain’t that funny?” he said sarcastically.

“Well, I-“

“You’re playing hookie. And you know what happeneds to naughty girls,”

“Dad, please,” you tried. But when he backed you against the wall. You flinched as he threw a punch at your ribs.

“Just,” he paused to punch again, “obedience, dear,” he continued to hit you, adding kicks too.

From outside, near the window, JJ and Peterkin had a clear view of everything, JJs eyes darkened in anger.

He couldn’t do anything to help, he stared at Peterkin and the deputy to see if they had a plan.

“Are you gonna do something?” JJ asked angerly.

“Be patient,” The deputy said.

JJ grabbed the deputy by the collar and forced him against the house, “he’s fucking beating her!”

“Stay calm, boy,” Peterkin ordered, “the longer he admits to doing it, or we have proof, the higher the charge,”

JJ put his head in his hands. He couldn’t let you suffer any longer.

So, he lead Peterkin to the front door and the deputy protected the back.

Peterkin told JJ to wait in the SUV so he wouldn’t get the blame, but JJ wanted to be here, helping as much as possible.

Peterkin brought her fist up to nock. She nocked twice and the noise inside haulted.

JJ stepped back when the door swung open.

He felt some fear of his own, but he pushed it down for your sake.

Your father presented a tough exterior, even though he seemed to notice a negative fate when a cop was on the other end of the door.

“Officer. What can I do for you?” He asked.

Peterkin took in a deep breath.

“May I have a look inside sir?” Perkin asked.

Your father nodded, allowing Peterkin to step inside. JJ waited until they were further inside to join.

When they entered, you were nowhere to be found.

There was some blood on the ground, and some broken glass. But no sign of you.

///

“Who are you?” You asked the man in uniform outside your door. You had decided to head out the back.

“I’m deputy Thomas,” he introduced.

“Oh. Well nice to meet you. But I have to get doing,” you muttered before trying to get around him and run in the other direction.

“Actually miss, I can’t let you leave. You are going to have to stay here,”

“Make me,” you stated and attempted to run past him.

It was a good attempt, until he caught your shoulders and grabbed you securely. He pulled you closer to him and hand cuffed your hands together.

“Hey! I didn’t do anything you prick!” You shouted, squirming and struggling against him.

Not gonna lie, it was painful after the shots you had taken.

\\\

JJ stood humbly back, away from the gaze of your father.

“Sorry about..the mess,” your father began, “my daughter and I had a little argument earlier. No harm done, I just don’t believe in her fuckin’ every boy in town. Poor thing has gotten hooked on some bad drugs, I can’t seem to control her. It’s hard to admit, as a father,” Your dad said.

It was a lie. A complete lie.

JJ hoped Peterkin would see that.

“And do you know exactly who is supplying her?” Peterkin asked.

“Some kid livin on the Cut,” your father shrugged.

JJ hated the familiarity of the house, there were beer bottles in every corner, and dishes piled up in the sink.

Suddenly, Peterkin picked up a dispatch on her walkee.

Static, “Peterkin. I’ve got the girl out her. Cuffed her because she’s trying to get away. She’s got major injuries, call it in. Over,” deputy Thomas says.

“Let me go!” You screamed, you scratched against his arms and punched his chest. But he was unfazed.

Peterkin muttered the law and rights as she pronounced your father under arrest. She cuffed him, and lead him to the car. Locking him in.

Then she retreated to the back of the house. They needed you to come into the station, take photos of your injuries, for evidence.

You knew how it would go. And you didn’t want any part of it.

You continued to struggle and squirm, insulting the officer in every which way.

But when Peterkin and JJ turned the corner. He let go, and run ran into JJ’s arms.

“It’s gonna be okay Y/n. I set this up. You’re free now,”

“You idiot! There are legal things I have to do now. I’m going to go into foster care, I have to get stripped naked and photographed for evidence! Do you have any idea what you did JJ?” You cried.

JJ hung his head low, “he can’t hurt you anymore Y/n. It’s okay. Calm down. Just let me hold you,”

“JJ...oh my god. I can’t do this...” your tears streamed onto JJ’s shirt.

“I’ll go easy on ya darling,” Peterkin says, “less questioning, and I’ll deal with your foster care situation. See if I can loop you in with John B,”

“Your boy did the right thing,” she said as she unlocked your hand cuffs.

You stared at JJ, he looked like he was about to cry.

“My boy,” you said softly. He kissed you on the forehead and you hugged him close.

“You can’t just make foster care disappear Cheif. You know she’s a minor, right?” Deputy Thomas asked.

Peterkin just shushed him, and told him to drive your father to the station.

Peterkin was the cheif of Damn police. She’d get them off your back.

Love this cute lil tag list all of y’all are amazing and supportive: 💞

Taglist: @p0gue420 @kristinaxilliano @belledutchess @maebanks @omgpankow @kaylinfayezink @dolanfivsosxox @thesurfingsnail @obsessedweirdo @dudebroskiprn @milked-down-coffee @jjsthumbring @rafescameron @traumaflavouredjuulpod @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @popcrone818 @stellastars22 @runway-to-my-aid @jeyramarie @no-shxt-sherl @queenofthebees003

thanks for going on this journey through this story! hope u had funn { here’s more: MY JJ MASTERLIST }

series masterlist: You Know I’m a Minor

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10 FINALE

Dear anyone who reads this, I hope you find yourself a JJ Maybank (if you’re in love w him)! I hope you have an amazing day. Even though there are less than amazing things happening. I truly thank you all🤍

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broadstreetmisfits · 4 years

Text

Paper Rings - Boone Jenner

Requested? Y / N “ Can we get 20 and 42 with Boone Jenner? I have such a soft spot for him❤️”

Prompt: #20 “Stop biting that fucking lip” , #42 “I love you”

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, weed, drugs,

WC: 1,016

Summary: You and Boone first met six years ago at a party. After dating for what feels like forever, you start to wonder if he’s ever going to propose

SIX YEARS EARLIER

Making your way through the frat house, you were careful not to bump into anyone and spill your beer. You were a sophomore in college and not usually one to party, but every once in a while, you’d find yourself going to one with some friends. However, this time, all of your friends got pulled away and distracted by other people they knew, leaving you alone.

You walked out onto the balcony, thankful for the fresh air that filled your lungs instead of the cannabis smoke you’d inhaled while being inside. It was a lot quieter outside as well, not many people willingly coming out to enjoy the cold air of the night. The sound of the sliding door creaking caused you to look over your shoulder, and you saw a guy around your age.

“Hey,” He said as he walked out onto the balcony.

“Hi,” You simply replied before turning your head to look back at the backyard.

The sound of footsteps on the wood filled the silence between you two. The guy had reached the railing and was only a few feet from you.

“I’m Boone” He introduced himself.

Turning your head, you met your eyes to his. “Y/N,” You replied, giving him a soft smile

“You sure don’t seem that thrilled to be here,” Boone said with a slight chuckle.

You chuckled along with him before answering “I mean I’d be having a much better time if my friends hadn’t ditched me”

“I’m right there with you. My teammates dragged me here and then left me for some girls.”

You had no idea how long you were out on that balcony with Boone, but before you knew it you were exchanging numbers with him before going back to telling stories.

“So my foot’s stuck in there, right? I’m freaking out, the dog’s having a seizure and I still have half a pie left” Boone said as he told you one of his stories. He was about to continue when the glass door slid open and a guy came out on the balcony

“Bro, there you are!” The guy said “We were looking all over for you. Cam’s about to do another keg stand”

Boone turned to you with an apologetic look “I’m sorry I gotta go. The guys are gonna kill me if I don’t go with them”

“It’s all good,” You said, forcing a smile “I’ll see you around”

That night, when you went back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but look him up on the internet. Was it stalker-like? Yes. But were you curious about him? Absolutely.

Before you knew it, you and Boone were always calling or texting each other. Between him being a professional hockey player, and you getting your degree, you barely had time to see each other; however, you made the friendship work.

NOW

Six years later, you found yourself dating Boone. The two of you had been going strong for the past four years - the same amount of years you’ve been out of college, and honestly, you couldn’t be happier. However, there was something that you felt was missing; a ring.

Of course, you completely understood that he was a busy man, being an NHL athlete and all. But even with all of that, you couldn’t help but wonder if proposing to you has ever even crossed his mind.

You and Boone were hosting an end of the season barbeque for the rest of the Blue Jackets and their significant others. You sat down at one of the picnic tables where the other girls were and let out a sigh as you looked over at your boyfriend.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Natalie, Cam’s wife asked.

You shook your head “It’s nothing”

“Then stop biting your lip” Janelle commented.

You sighed, knowing you were caught. “Fine, it’s just that Boone and I have been together for so long and hasn’t-”

“Proposed?” Kara suggested, cutting you off

“Yeah. He hasn’t proposed. Like we’ve talked about our future and how we see each other in our futures, but he hasn’t done anything.”

“Have you hinted to him that you want him to propose?” Janelle asked

“Plenty of times” You admitted

“Then he’s probably just nervous about doing it” Kara said, the other two girls immediately agreeing

“Cam was sweating buckets when he proposed to me. He always says it was the most nerve-wracking day of his life” Natalie spoke

A couple hours later, everyone left the barbeque, leaving you and Boone alone in your guys’ house. He was finishing washing the dishes while you were wrapping up the last bit of leftovers.

There was a comfortable silence between you two before Boone randomly blurted out. “Do you remember the night that we met?”

You turned around to look at him, completely confused, “Of course I do. What about it?”

“Well, ever since that night, I’ve found myself constantly thinking about the future and what it could bring. It started out with thinking about how I’d love to get to know you more and eventually date you, to wanting to get a house with you, all the way up until now.” Boone began to ramble

“What’ve you been thinking about recently?” You asked as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion

“I’ve been thinking about how these past six years have been the best years of my life and how I wouldn’t want to trade them for the world. With that being said, I came to the realization that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Boone paused as he nervously gulped and got down on one knee. “*Your Full Name*, will you marry me?”

Your jaw hit the floor as tears welled up in your eyes. “Of course. Of course, I’ll marry you”

Smiles formed on both of your faces as Boone got up and kissed you. Once you two pulled apart, he slid the ring on your left ring finger.

“I love you so much” He whispered

“I love you too” You replied

#Boone Jenner #columbus blue jackets #nhl #hockey #national hockey league #national hockey #writing #nhl writing #nhl imagine #imagine #national hockey writing #blue jackets #hockey writing #hockey imagine #jenner

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queenk00k · 4 years

Text

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 2)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.9K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

the one where those damn kooks are charming when they want to be

JJ had never really gotten used to a beating. He knew when to expect one, based off Luke’s mood when he got home, the glint in his eye, the way his tone changed when he spoke to him. Thanks to being scared shitless of his dad for the majority of his childhood, JJ was well attuned to the subtleties of other people’s emotions. Silver lining, he figured. Means he always knew when the other Pogues were pissed at him without them saying anything, always knew when Rafe was looking for a fight.

Didn’t make having the crap kicked out of him any more enjoyable.

“You think I wasn’t going to find out you stole from me, you stupid boy?” Luke spits his words as if they were venom, standing over JJ who’s clutching his stomach in pain on the floor.

JJ looks up at his father, jaw clenched. “I was helping John B, Dad! I thought you’d be happy I was screwing over the cops! We didn’t know about the storm!”

JJ quickly comes to realise that was the wrong thing to say.

Luke’s eyes are aflame with rage, his stare boring holes into JJ as his dad hoists him up by the front of his shirt and slams him into the wall, fists clenched around the cheap cotton.

“Happy?! Boy, nothing about you makes me happy.”

A punch to JJ’s gut.

“You cost me thousands –“

Another blow, this time to his jaw.

“- spend your life doing fuck all except smoking weed-“

JJ attempts to throw Luke off him but the older man is stronger, despite clearly being drunk out of his mind, and he slams JJ back against the wall, knocking a picture onto the hardwood floor in the process.

“And now you’ve stolen from me, you ungrateful, worthless piece of shit!”

Luke slams his fist into the side of JJ’s head and his father’s red face, contorted with rage, is the last thing JJ sees before he falls, unconscious, onto the floorboards.

When JJ comes to, head pounding, he blinks his eyes open slowly and raises his hand to the side of his face. He brings his fingers away from his cheek shakily, notices they’re sticky with blood, touches his lip gingerly and realises that’s split and swollen too.

JJ grunts and moves to roll onto his back before attempting to get up.

Attempting the operative word, as a searing pain in his side forces him to lay back down briefly, hissing at the pain.

Great, he thinks. He’s really done a number on me this time.

JJ lays there for a few moments, staring up at the slightly dilapidated ceiling of the Chateau, listening for any telltale signs Luke was still in the vicinity. He wouldn’t be surprised if Luke stuck around to lay down another beating but he’s grateful for the silence that confirms he’s been left alone once again.

After a few shaky breaths, JJ finally finds the courage to stand to his feet, wincing at the soreness in his body and making a mental note to find an icepack somewhere in the kitchen. Kiara used to be the one to look after him when he showed up at the Chateau after disappearing for days, her gentle touch calming him more than he liked to admit, soothing his bruises and making him feel like someone gave a shit about him.

JJ swallows thickly. He wishes Kiara was here now.

JJ scoffs at the thought and the feeling of tenderness dissipates as quickly as it appears, replaced by the more familiar feeling of bitterness that rises up like bile.

Resigning to the fact that he won’t see Kiara for a very long time because she doesn’t want to see him (conveniently forgetting that it’s not like she has that much choice in the matter), JJ sighs heavily and makes his way down the hall.

JJ ignores the feeling of complete desperation and confusion as he enters his old, dead friend’s kitchen and opens the fridge, silently praying the cops at least had the decency to leave their beer alone.

For the first time in a few weeks, something’s gone his way and JJ cracks open a Budweiser, letting himself smile ever so slightly.

He’s surprised he remembers how.

Drinking alone is never as fun as you think it is.

JJ’s sprawled out on the steps of the porch at 1am, beer bottles surrounding him like a shrine, his Zippo the only form of light in an otherwise unusually dark night.

Suddenly, JJ gets the overwhelming urge to take his bike and ride it across the island to Figure 8.

Never mind that he’s drunk, never mind that he knows he’ll find his way back to places that painfully remind him of his friends, and never mind that by taking the risk of going to the other side of the island he could run into a Kook.

Maybe JJ was looking for a fight tonight.

Before he’s had a chance to think rationally (but when does he ever?), JJ is speeding through the streets of Figure 8, past big Kook houses and Kook golf courses, struggling to keep his bike straight as his vision blurs.

He’s doing reasonably well at staying on the road for someone of his inebriated state, and he’s honestly pretty impressed with himself, enjoying the feeling of the warm wind whipping through his hair.

That is, until he realises he’s going past the Crain house and he sees Rose Cameron’s face on a placard and he’s filled with overwhelming rage and he’s distracted and all of a sudden the bike swerves off the road.

JJ panics and makes a futile attempt to straighten up again, but its too late and he skids off the road and is catapulted into a thicket of trees.

JJ groans and pats himself down, checking that he still has all of his necessary limbs. He breathes deeply and squeezes his eyes shut.

Typical, he thinks.

JJ plans to stay lying on the side of the road for the rest of the night, if he’s honest with himself, before a girl’s voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“You know you’re supposed to keep the bike upright, don’t you?”

JJ opens one eye to see someone, a Kook, standing over him. She’s slender and dressed in a white sundress, the contrast stark against her tanned skin, her dark hair tied back in a braid.

JJ huffs. “What do you care, Kook?”

The girl crouches down and looks at his battered face, wincing. It’s not the usual disdain JJ is used to – he thinks he can actually see some pity reflected in her features.

“You look like shit, what happened?”

“Leave me – wait, do I know you from somewhere?”

JJ knows he’s a good friend, but sometimes it feels like he’s loyal to a fault.

That’s how he finds himself in the middle of a Kook nightmare, pressed against rich assholes dressed in designer clothes, all for the annual Midsummers party.

JJ’s walking around the perimeter of the country club, looking over his shoulder for Rafe and his henchmen and cursing John B under his breath for putting himself in this situation in the first place.

He’s needing to pretend to be a waiter, so JJ is absentmindedly picking up empty glasses as he goes, feeling grateful he hasn’t had to speak to someone yet.

That is, of course, until he almost trips over a figure crouched down on the patio.

“Woah, you trying to kill me?”

JJ looks down and sees a girl in a black dress, bending down, her fingers wrapped around the neck of a vodka bottle.

“Can I point out that you’re the one in my way? This is a tripping hazard.”

The brunette girl rolls her eyes and gives JJ the finger, but he can tell its not malicious.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pogue.”

JJ widens his eyes in panic. Cover blown.

The girl chuckles. “I know you’re a Pogue. I’m drunk, not stupid. Plus, don’t think I haven’t seen you around at the boneyard.”

JJ hates that he wants to flirt with her, and he clears his throat. “What’s your deal?”

“I won’t tell the Camerons you’re here, practically committing fraud, and you won’t snitch to the country club that I stole their top shelf vodka to spice up my evening.”

JJ’s mildly impressed. “I guess we’re both criminals,” he replies and moves to walk away, before turning back briefly. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The girl smiled mysteriously. “Unimportant.”

“Yeah. You nearly tripped over me at Midsummers,” the girl replies, holding her hand out for JJ to take, which he does, and helps him onto his feet.

JJ attempts to dust himself off. “Do I get to know your name now?”

She smiles. “I’m Scarlett. You’re JJ, right?”

JJ nods. “How’d you know?”

“I know some people that know you, but it’s unimportant. I’m sorry about your friend.”

JJ doesn’t want to talk about John B, least of all with a Kook. “Right, well, I best get going,” he says as he turns towards his bike, dreading the ride back to the Chateau.

Scarlett looks at him incredulously. “You look nasty as fuck.”

“Thanks,” JJ responds bitterly.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “You didn’t let me finish. Let me take you back to mine, help you clean up a bit.”

Then, sensing the hesitation in JJ, she adds “At least let me give you bandaid or something, and you can do it yourself if you’re so tough.”

JJ figures there’s no harm in using someone’s supplies, especially a Kook’s, and it’s not like he can go home to anyone else.

He shrugs. “Sure, whatever, thanks.”

After Scarlett convinces JJ his bike will be just fine hidden at the Crain property (the Camerons have more pressing issues at the moment, Scarlett tells him, her voice catching), they make their way to Scarlett’s house.

It’s the biggest and most impressive house he’s ever been in, and JJ can’t help but feel extremely uncomfortable at the thought of stepping into a Kook’s home.

“Where are your parents?” He asks, as Scarlett rummages around in her drawers for first aid supplies, his arms folded over his chest.

“They’re out,” she replies simply, and brandishes cream and bandaids at him. “Are you going to let me do this for you?”

JJ furrows his brow and snatches the supplies from her outstretched hand.

“I’m good, thanks. I can do it myself.”

Scarlett nods and sits down at the edge of her bed in silence, as JJ clumsily cleans his cuts, face scrunched in pain as it stings. He successfully places the last bandaid and looks at Scarlett, who hasn’t said another word.

“I, uh – thanks, I guess,” JJ says awkwardly, placing his hands in his pockets. “I should go.”

Scarlett looks at her phone at the time, 3:30am, and shakes her head.

“You can stay here, it’s late and I have a feeling you’re not quite up to the ride home.”

JJ panics, eyes wide, and resorts back to guarded defensiveness. “I’m not sleeping here. I don’t even know you.”

Scarlett sighs. “You didn’t seem to have an issue with that when you came home with me. Look, you can sleep on my couch,” she says as she gestures towards the plush couch in the corner of her large bedroom.

JJ huffs. Kooks, he thinks, but he nods reluctantly.

It’s the feeling of overwhelming loneliness, coupled with the fact that someone actually cared about him, that leads JJ to spend the night sleeping on a Kook’s couch.

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#tw: violence #tw: child abuse #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fanfic #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction

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poisxnyouth · 4 years

Text

bad influence dave (d.d) part 1 I guess

A/N: unfortunately, your girl can’t write 15k in 24 hours. but I think I slept 10/24 of those hours, so, like...I think I did pretty good. enjoy. talk to me while you read. I like when y’all tell me what to do...….let’s do that again. I want to post more, so maybe this is how we can get that done ??? either way, enjoy & let me know what you think & keep sending me concepts on this - it’s superrrr hot. love u. thank you for reading my stupid shit. xoxo hailey

word count: 6k (i’m sorry)

Michael, your coworker, drags you to a house party after work – if you didn't know any better, you'd think it’s a shitty shindig organized entirely by high schoolers from across the neighborhood. You’re not sure whose house it is, and you didn't think Michael was interested in this lifestyle; he’s happily married, and his son is going to be baptized by your father next week.

Apparently, he is, though, and he ditches you almost immediately, whisked away by people calling his name. You don’t mind it – you didn’t want to babysit him all night, anyway. You wander, half-assedly making yourself a drink in the kitchen just to have something to hold in your hands.

You sit yourself on a couch in a relatively empty room, coffee table littered with items you couldn't even identify if you wanted to. You take sips of your drink, hating every second of it, eyes scanning your surroundings as you attempt to find something worth paying attention to.

Michael is your only truly comfortable solace in the entire house, and you’re not sure as to what his location is or what he’s doing. You don’t know anyone else, and it’s not exactly your scene: a Father’s daughter should never be in a place like this. Your father would have a stroke if he knew your whereabouts – even though you’re now a grown adult woman living alone.

A man sits next to you, speaking to someone across the room as he shuffles through items on the coffee table. You catch his eyes as you move to uncomfortably scroll through your phone in an attempt to divert his gaze.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he breaks, fiddling with wrappers, “What’s up? I’ve never seen you at any of these things before.”

You shrug, blush coming to your cheeks as you feel his eyes linger on your necklace – a crucifix you’ve had since birth. He doesn't say anything for a moment, admiring the redness in your face, before breaking, “What’s your name?”

You clear your throat and tell him, not meeting his stare as he opens a jar and plucks what you assume a bud of weed is from it, tearing it up with his fingers.

“You speak!” He gasps, making light fun, “I’m David. Good to see you. You want me to roll you one?”

You shake your head, murmuring a No – thank you, though. as you watch his fingers habitually roll up either a joint or a blunt (you don’t know the difference, and don’t especially care all that much). He nods respectfully as he licks at the paper delicately, meeting your eyes.

David folds the paper and sticks it together, speaking, “You’re cute as all hell...Are you here with anyone?”

“Um...Michael,” you inform him anxiously, cup still in your hands, “Michael Paul.”

“Michael?” David asks, surprised as he glances down at your hands, searching for a ring, “You’re not Abby.”

“You know Abby?” you respond, “She’s...She’s in New York for the week. I’m, um, babysitting him, I guess.”

“Of course, I know Abby,” he replies, acting as if it’s an obvious fact as he shrugs his shoulders, lighting whatever he just rolled, “I’m their dealer, honey. This is my place. He didn't tell you that?”

You chew at your lips, embarrassed at your ignorance, fingers moving to play with the charm of your necklace as you shake your head, eyes at the floor.

He cocks his head, gaze zeroing in on you, “This isn't really your scene, huh?” David doesn’t mean it in a rude way; he’s just trying to get you to talk. You’re too cute for him to not attempt conversation.

You shake your head again, muttering, “No, not really. Michael dragged me here.”

He tuts, nodding politely, “You sure you don’t want me to roll you something? Or get you a pipe or something? You’re drinking the throwaway shit I didn’t want so I put it out – Michael’s downstairs hitting Adrian’s shitty DIY Rick and Morty bong, if you were wondering.”

“I don’t,” you stutter slightly, afraid to meet his eyes, “I’ve never smoked before. I’m not even drinking this...”

“Oh!” David exclaims, going silent for a moment, finishing what he was smoking, “Well...It’s a good time to smoke for the first time, if you want to. There’s really not a better time to try it than now, and I can stay with you, but if you don’t want to-”

“I think I do,” you admit, sheepish, thinking of how disappointed God probably is in you, “Just, um, help me with it? Please?”

He nods, leaning towards the coffee table and beginning his process all over again silently.

“How much do you know about weed, sweetheart?” David asks dubiously, taking his time.

“Um...I know what it looks like,” you admit, feeling more sheltered than you ever have before.

He laughs slightly as he folds the paper in, explaining politely, “I’m rolling you a blunt. The wrap is made of tobacco leaves. I’ll teach you how to roll later, if you want.”

It’s presumptuous of him to assume you’ll be back to see him again, but he doesn't acknowledge it, continuing, “This is my best shit. I don't deal it, so don't tell Mikey-boy about it or he’ll be up my ass begging for it. I don't know what strain it is – I just know it’s a hybrid.”

You don’t ask him to elaborate as he finishes rolling it, “You ready, hon?”

David sees you make a slight face, scoffing humorously.

"Baby," he urges, too comfortable with the nickname, yet to use your real name even though he knows it, "Try it. It won't kill you, I promise." David holds up the blunt he just rolled to you, still unlit. He quickly explains what baking the blunt is and what purpose it serves as he runs the flame over the seam of the dried leaves. He passes it to you, eyes dropping to your mouth as you prop it between your lips. He lights it for you, blowing out the flame at the end and watching you hit it for the first time.

You cough wildly, eyes watering as you pass it back to him, shaking your head and sniffling as you attempt to recover. He laughs at you lightly, amused, "Let’s try this. Just...suck in the smoke after me, okay?"

You nod as he scoots closer next to you and brings it to his lips, taking a drag and quickly ghosting it. He gently tips your head towards him, your chin between his thumb and index finger. He's too comfortable with you for just meeting each other fifteen minutes prior, and you realize this as he hovers his mouth over yours and gently blows the smoke. You do as David told you, sucking up the smoke as much as you can before he pulls away, staring at you and expecting you to cough.

You don't, exhaling remnants of his smoke easily. A smile tugs at his lips, blunt still between his fingers as his eyebrows raise, "Better, yeah? 'S shotgunning. I think it's kinda hot, but maybe it's just me."

You continue the back and forth of shotgunning until you're high. It doesn't take long for you, and he finishes the blunt for you, high off his ass. David eyes your mouth and begins to lean in, free hands moving to your waist.

He kisses you gently, keeping his hands to himself, before pulling away, speaking, "Sorry. I didn’t ask. Is this okay?"

You nod against him, fists tangling into his t-shirt, pulling him closer and attaching your mouths. He leans out gently after a few seconds, "Nah. We shouldn't – not when we're both as high as we are – but if you want me in your guts anytime soon, just lemme know. I’m down...The weed won't kill you, but these will," he pulls out a pack of Camel cigs from his breast pocket, shaking the pack slightly and removing one. David lights it and tosses the pack onto the coffee table, "...You want one?"

“Sure,” you shrug, your father's face passing momentarily through your brain as he passes you one. He lights it for you, his stare too overwhelming as he watches for your reaction.

“I like you,” he compliments simply, smoking a filtered Camel, arm draped around the back of your seat.

At first, you cough at the cigarette smoke, too – you’re loosened up now, but still painfully shy as David continues to speak with you, “So, what's your deal? Why’re you so bashful? I mean...it’s cute.”

“Oh, um,” you blush again, feeling the warmth from his body radiate onto your skin, “My father is the priest at the big cathedral in the center of town...St. John’s the Baptist.”

“Ohhh,” he nods understandingly, motioning to your crucifix, “Makes sense.”

He deadpans, “So, would he be upset with you if you were with a guy like me? What about your mom? Any siblings?”

You breathe heavier at his questions, heart beating faster as you glance at his lips, “Yes. Two brothers. They would all kill me if they even knew I was here.”

“So, why are you?” David quips, “Just being nosy. If you didn't want to be here, you wouldn't have stayed.”

It seems like he’s getting closer and closer to you the more you speak, and you’re confused as to why you don't mind it, “...’Cause you started talking to me…”

“Ah,” he tuts, putting his cigarette out and taking yours from your fingers, smoking on it since you barely did, “That’s sweet.”

David can feel the innocence radiating from you, getting the balls to ask the question he is dying to know the answer to, “Are you pure?”

Your eyes widen and you clear your throat, deciding to swallow all of the liquor in your cup before replying, “Yes.”

He knew that was going to be your answer, pressing, “So... nothing? Ever? Not even a little…” he quickly motions jerking off, “In the back of some prick’s car when you were sixteen?”

“Um,” you shift in your seat, eyes on his, “No... Just-just kissing. My dad has always threatened us with the sixth and ninth Commandments...they teach specifically against sins of the flesh.”

“Wow,” he scoffs, growing bolder, “Would you break that for me? Let me ruin that for you?”

You inhale sharply as he stares into your eyes, completely inscrutable as he waits for your response, “Um…”

You feel your heart rate speed up as you gaze at his mouth, never quite feeling this way before as you push your thighs together involuntarily. David immediately clocks it, eyes darting to your legs before breaking, “Can I take that as a yes? Not tonight, obviously, but…”

His voice drops, lower in volume, “Just say the word.” He leans in closer to you, your lips almost touching as David tilts his head, waiting for your response, “We can start off slow. I can teach you one thing at a time – God, I want to teach you everything.”

“Yes,” you agree, breathless, “Yes, please. I want it.”

You don't know what’s come over you for this man to challenge your lifelong beliefs after thirty minutes of knowing him, and you certainly don't think it’s from the weed. David kisses you again, tongue easily slipping into your mouth as his hands come to your waist, sliding down gently to feel the shape of your figure in his palms.

This is bordering the most you’ve ever done with a guy, even at twenty-two years old, and he is such a good kisser that you don't notice when one of his hands land at the base of your neck. Your hands run over the width of his shoulders as his teeth tug at your bottom lip, eliciting a whine from the back of your throat.

You’re immediately embarrassed and he feels you flush against his face, leaning out of the kiss and removing his touch. You already feel somehow less whole as he scoots away and wipes at his mouth, reaching towards the coffee table for what you assume is his phone.

David unlocks it, demanding as he passes the device to you, “Give me your number, sugar.”

You type it in along with your name, “Shouldn't I... Um, shouldn't I get yours too?”

He tuts, standing, “I’ll text you, sweetheart. Don't worry about it.”

You stand, too, and David notices the way you mirror him – once you go any further together, he knows you’re going to follow him around like a puppy dog.

Two weeks later, you see him again. You beg Michael to take you to another one of David’s “get-togethers” after you hear nothing but radio silence from him. You think of him every day and every night, an irreparable longing inside of you only he can fix. You feel guilty for it, attempting to pray the hormones away, but they remain: Every day that passes, you want him even more badly.

You have no evidence of your interaction besides the memory of how his hands felt on your skin and what his mouth tasted like; or how easily the pet names he called you had effortlessly rolled off of his tongue, like he had been doing it for an extended amount of time.

You tag along with Michael and Abby this time around, and David sees you walk in with them, halting the conversation he was having with a customer and moving to go speak to you. He waves off your company to ensure he can speak to you without their lingering presence, much to say.

“You’re back,” David states, “I’ve been meaning to get a hold of you, I promise. Just super busy. Downside to dealing is how much time it takes up.” He doesn't wait for your response, walking to the kitchen. You follow him, as he knew you would, and he leans against his granite counters.

“What are you drinking tonight, honey?”

You shrug, beginning to blush at the pet name, “Whatever you want me to.”

“Good answer,” he replies, moving to begin working, “My day job is bartending. Right now, at least, dealing isn't enough to pay all of the bills. I’ll give you what I usually drink.”

David pours you a double whisky, neat, and passes the glass to you. You glance at it and its lack of added ingredients, and he chuckles softly, “Just drink it, baby. Don’t be a pussy.”

He seems all too satisfied when you obey his wishes, arms crossing casually as he watches you take a large gulp. He drinks this?

David stands up straight from his spot against the counter, leaning down and dropping his voice, “Meet me where we were last time. I’ll be up in a few – I’ve gotta go talk to a customer. I want the glass empty when I see you next. Got it?”

You nod, eyes on his before his hand finds the small of your back, generally guiding you through the people to the stairs before he disappears. You go upstairs and locate the room, placing yourself on the couch and scrolling through your phone while forcing yourself to finish your drink as he asked you to. With some valor, you do, chugging it and wishing you had a chaser.

David makes an appearance ten minutes into your wait, apologizing, “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn't think it’d take that long. The kid does not know how to shut up.”

You shrug, unbothered, as he glances at the cup, complimenting you and motioning to it, “Good girl!”

“Baby,” he pauses, fixed gaze on you, “What do you want from me?”

You cock your head, confused, “I... I thought we already talked about this…?”

“We did. You’re taking it the wrong way,” David admires your eagerness to please while remaining truthful, “What do you want from me right now?”

“Oh,” you reply, blush returning to your cheeks as you feel stupid, “Umm...I was hoping you would decide.”

“Okay,” he replies easily, nodding his head, “But in a minute. How often do you drink?”

“Not...Not too much, why? Maybe, like, once every few months? But I never get drunk, if that’s what you’re asking.” David doesn't reply, murmuring an ‘I’ll be right back.’ and leaving the room.

Not even three minutes later, he’s returned with another drink, “Screwdriver. You’ll like this one better. Finish it.”

You do, and he watches as your throat undulates as you swallow, feeling his dick twitch in his pants at the sight. He takes the glass from you and slides it onto the coffee table, scooting closer to you.

“You’re so innocent,” David comments, body heat radiating into your skin, “You don't want to stay that way?”

You shake your head, eyes on the floor, “No. I feel like a child.”

“Mm,” he makes an approving noise, “Look at me.”

You obey him, again, forcing him to continue, “I’ve got you, Y/N. Is that why you came back here?”

“...Yes,” you reply, noticing it's the first time he actually acknowledges your real name.

“Good choice,” David responds, “Let me kiss you.”

He attaches your mouths, and you taste him again: a few beers mixed with his cigarettes. It becomes one with the orange juice and vodka you just ingested, and you feel his hand creep up the tops of your thighs.

You gasp slightly into his mouth before he responds, “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” David keeps his promise, even though part of you wishes he wouldn't.

He moves you so you’re now positioned in his lap, hands respectfully on your waist as the bulge in his shorts brushes ever so slightly against your pussy under your dress. He doesn't acknowledge it and doesn't acknowledge how hard his dick is, mouth remaining on yours.

David kind of feels like a teenager, making out with a virgin at a house party, but he doesn't mind it whatsoever: you’re cute, and you’re giving him the chance to ruin you.

“Can I touch you?” He finds himself asking you mid-kiss, and you sheepishly nod your head. Slowly, taking his time with it, his hand slides up your inner thigh, palming your pussy gently as you involuntarily buck up against his touch, making a soft noise.

“Wow,” he remarks simply into your mouth at your reaction while you blush against his face, your hands on his shoulders. He doesn't do anything else and savors the moment you try to move against him, hating that he feels the need to grab at your hips and get you to stop.

You do, murmuring a quiet ‘Sorry…’ as David slides both of his hands under your loose-fitting dress, grazing the hems of your underwear and stopping at your waist, feeling at the bare skin and curves there.

You’re warm and drunk, now, and as he realizes this, he pulls out of your kisses and sets you back next to him.

“You’re drunk, honey,” David says, moving to light a cigarette, “I knew you would be, but not this quickly.”

“But wait,” you whine, hand on his shoulder, “No. David...I want it.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat, “I’m sure you do, sweetheart, but I’m not doing anything with you when I’m sober and you’re not.”

“Ugh,” you groan, “But I want you.” You scoot closer to him and kiss at his neck, trying to leave a mark. Admittedly, though, you don’t know how to.

“How do I leave a hickey on you?” you ask, fingers tracing against the wet spot in the crook of his neck.

“No,” he says simply, politely pushing away your touches, “Maybe next time.”

“If you even text me…” you roll your eyes, visibly pouting.

“Look, baby,” David says, defensive, “I mean this as nicely as possible: A virgin should not be getting upset with me for trying to make their experiences good. Don't be a brat just because you’re needy and have never had it before. The day will come, so: sit down, keep your hands to yourself unless I say otherwise, and smoke a blunt with me. Got it?”

“You’re so hot,” you drunkenly compliment, sinking back into your seat and fiddling with your hands, “Got it.”

“Good,” he replies, putting out his cigarette. You are drunk, and you can barely focus as his hand grabs at your thigh, just above your knee. He tugs you closer before removing his touch, a silent indication of wanting you to scoot next to him.

He quickly rolls it with expertise, “Let’s see if you can smoke it by yourself this time.”

David gently holds the blunt with his thumb and index finger, lighting it and passing it to you. You fail again, lungs and throat rejecting the smoke.

You quietly apologize, sniffling as you pass it back to him.

“It’s okay,” he promises reassuringly, taking a hit and giving it back to you, “Try again.”

You breathe in the smoke slowly, unknowingly taking a large hit. He roots for you, “Hold it, sweetheart. Hold it. Don't cough. Don’t laugh. It’ll make it hurt more. Hold it. Alright, blow it out. You did so good.”

You feel lightheaded as you exhale into the room and pass it back to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He chuckles, arm draping around your shoulders and leaning back into the couch, “I’ll give you a little rest after that one. That was a huge hit. It would probably knock me out. Give it a minute to settle in.”

You close your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat as you feel him continue to smoke. He gets your attention before taking another hit, “Sugar. Look at me.”

You do, and he tips your face upwards, mouth hovering over yours as you get the hint and inhale. David shotguns with you sporadically before he finishes off the blunt, tossing the roach into his ashtray.

“You’re crossed, baby. Crossfaded,” he says casually, arm still around you, “You should go home and ride it out.”

You don't want to, and he can read it on your face, “I’ll get you an Uber and text you when I get off tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up and we can hang, okay? I promise. You’ll be okay.”

You nod slowly before his lips are momentarily on yours, “Okay. Go downstairs. You don't need me to stay with you. I’ll tell Mikey and Abs.”

He does text you when he gets off, and you’re as much surprised that he followed through with it as you are impressed with yourself for actually remembering his promise.

David takes you back to his place; everything he owns seems to smell like weed, and his house is now quiet, as it's just you two. You're startled when David unbuttons his black dress shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it on to his couch as he makes his way to the kitchen. He tugs at the neck of his black t-shirt, pulling it off and throwing it to the couch, giving his dress shirt some company. He’s shirtless, now, slacks sitting on his hips as he opens his fridge.

“Sorry, I’m fucking starving and those clothes are hot as hell. I’ve been working since nine this morning,” David rifles through the contents of his fridge and freezer, unhappy with the selection, “I don't want any of this. Let’s go somewhere.”

“You bartend at nine in the morning?” you ask, leaning nervously against his kitchen counter.

“I know, right?” he scoffs, “All of the alcoholics come in before they have to go to work. It’s the same people every day. It feels like Groundhog Day.”

You follow him as he grabs his dirty clothes and goes upstairs, and you presumably end up in his room: bed made, room spotless.

“I have roommates, but they work more than I do, ‘cause I get the profits from dealing. They’re messy, but I’m not,” he explains nonchalantly, placing his clothes in a hamper as he kicks his shoes off, “Can’t stand anything being strewn everywhere. I don't know why they can’t just pick up after themselves, but I’m also not gonna clean up after them. I lock the door to my room when we throw parties.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” he says regretfully, “Can I shower? It’ll take me five minutes.”

You shrug, “No worries. Go ahead. Take your time.”

“Sweet,” David rifles through his drawers and grabs shorts and a hoodie, “Give me a few.”

He shuts his bathroom door and you hear the shower turn on. You take this time to glance around his room: work clothes hung neatly on hangers in his closet, shoes organized at the bottom on a shelf, photos of what you assume are his family taped on the borders of the mirror on top of his chest of drawers. You want to snoop, sneakily opening a drawer in his nightstand. It contains condoms, cigarettes, weed, and other items you can't identify. Even his drawers are organized, and you didn't think he would have a clean bone in his body.

At least he’s safe about some things, you guess, shutting the drawers as you hear the water shut off. David emerges shortly afterwards, running his towel through his hair, clad in socks and gym shorts. You try to keep your eyes to yourself as he bends over, grabbing a random shirt from one of his drawers and pulling it on.

“What happened to your back?” you ask, nosy as you think about the visible thin striped scars going down the length and width of his back – too thick and too straight to be stretch marks.

He scoffs as he tugs his shoes on – either well-taken care of or brand-new Vans – admitting, “Girls.”

You make a face, confused, before he clarifies, “Sex. I don’t mind it, though. I know I do a good job.”

He tosses his dirty towel into his hamper, grabbing his keys and shoving them into his pocket. Hoodie draped over his forearm, he steps towards you, “Let’s go, baby.” You look up at him as he tips your head up and leans in, giving you the first kiss of the night. His hand moves from your chin to your waist, pulling your hips closer to his. David feels you get bold and handsy, running your hand down the front of his torso.

He pulls away, hand on the small of your back, “Hands to yourself, remember?”

“S-sorry,” you apologize, removing your hand, “I thought that was because I was drunk.”

“No,” he replies, eyes on yours, “It’s because you’re the virgin here. I’m not going to just fuck you and send you home.”

“I’m controlling the way this goes,” David explains, “I’ll make it good for you. Besides, isn't it so much hotter to go slowly?” His lips are millimeters from yours, eyes hooded as he stares between your lips and eyes.

“Whatever you say,” you respond, blush apparent in your cheeks, “I’m not even sure if I know what's hot.”

“Holy shit,” he breathes, pulling you closer, “You don't even know what you like?”

You shake your head, embarrassed, before David kisses you quickly, stepping away and opening his bedroom door, “This is going to be so much fucking fun.”

You’re not hungry, and it feels awkward watching him eat with no conversation to make. He’s thinking the same thing, but neither of you pay it any mind: you’re both grown, you can handle it for half an hour.

David drives back to his place, no hands on you, and you realize he takes good care of his car, too: it feels brand new. You ask him about it, noting how he takes care of his belongings.

“Thank you,” he responds earnestly, lighting a cigarette, “It’s ingrained in me, I guess. When me and my family moved to America, it was all that my parents asked of me. We didn't have much, so we had to take care of what we did have.”

“You’re not from here?” you genuinely question, “That's cool. When and where did you move from?”

“No, I’m not,” he chuckles softly, “Slovakia. Moved when I was six.”

“I’m a DACA recipient, so, like,” David clears his throat, “If we’re ever at a party and the cops show up and you’re with me, we need to be the first ones outta there. Whoever's hosting will usually tell me. My nightmare is getting deported.”

You nod, going quiet, nothing left to say.

“Nice of you to notice, though,” he continues, tossing his cigarette out of his window and moving his free hand to your thigh, “You’re sweet, honey.”

You blush at the action as he pulls into his driveway, rolling his window up and shutting the car off.

The tension between you returns as you follow him upstairs into his room, him ordering you, “On the bed, baby.”

David's never been one to love hand jobs – not when he could do the same thing by himself a million times better – but the opportunity of being able to teach a girl from scratch how to give one exactly the way he likes it is too good for him to not take.

You both kick your shoes off and climb into it, bed still made as he wastes no time, tugging his shirt off and pulling your face to his and kissing you as he lies down. You keep your hands to yourself as he told you to earlier before he grabs at one of them, placing it in the middle of his chest and slowly running it down his torso. His hand remains over yours, controlling its movements as he pushes your hand over the bulge in his shorts, his hips bucking up slightly.

“Keep it there,” David tells you before kissing you again, removing his hand from yours and grasping at your waist. His hands move slightly lower and he already feels how breathless you are into his kisses. Images of his dick in your hands run through his brain, and he twitches under your touch, dick gradually growing bigger.

You change nothing about your hand placement or pressure as you feel him grow beneath your fingers, his hips moving slightly as he leans out. He moves your face with his fingers, squishing your cheeks up momentarily for you to look towards his dick as he tugs his underwear and shorts down.

You exhale sharply at the sight of his dick, heat coming to your cheeks, before he demands, “Spit on it. Nothing else. Don’t touch. Look at me while you do.”

You scoot yourself further down the bed so you can obey, sucking up the spit you have in your mouth, heart beating out of your chest. His fingers thread through your hair and holds it back as he gently reminds you, sensing your anxiety, “Don’t be so nervous, honey. I’ve got you.”

You nod slightly before you meet his eyes and do as you’re told, his mouth dropping open slightly at the sight of the excess saliva dripping from your lips. You wipe at your mouth as he politely tugs you away, fingertips leaving your hair and moving to grasp his dick.

David side eyes you as he strokes himself slightly, “Can I see you?”

You nod, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from his movements, mouth wanting to water. His free hand tugs at the hem of your dress and he realizes you’re always wearing dresses – he doesn't question it, writing it off as a weird overtly-Catholic thing and not thinking of it again as you lift it off of you.

He didn't think you’d reach around and unhook your bra, but he doesn't complain, staring at your tits and grabbing at them. David breathes heavily, “Watch my hand.”

You do, lips parted as you watch him work over himself, wanting him in your mouth – even if you have no idea how to do it. He twists his grasp near the base of his dick, moving upwards and running his palm over the head with every stroke.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching you watch him and removing his touch, “You do it. I’ll guide you.”

“Do...do you want me to take my rings off?”

“No,” he replies, “It’ll be okay, honey.”

David eyes the crucifix around your neck as it dangles while you lean forward, his free hand running gently down your spine as you wrap your fingers around him.

“Don’t grab as tight as you think,” he advises as you begin moving your hand, “Oh, fuck. Perfect.”

“Slower,” he tells you, “Oh, God, yes. Look at me.”

He pushes your hair behind your shoulders as you glance up at him, his mouth slightly agape. Your hands are smaller than his and more precise, and he can't believe the best handy he’s ever received is from a God-fearing virgin.

“Faster, sugar. Spit again,” he orders, grunting as you obey him, “Good girl. Just like that.”

His hips fuck up into your hand, “Use your other hand and touch under the head. Quick.”

You do, running your fingertips under where you think he’s talking about, eyes still glued to his.

“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, eyes rolling back into his head and throwing his head back against his pillows. David’s hand rests on your back affectionately as he looks up at the ceiling, getting closer.

“Oh, baby, I’m close,” he doesn't know why he’s never told a girl what he likes when getting jerked off, because this is the first time he’s actually enjoyed it.

David decides to just cum all over your hands, eyes rolling back again and grunting as he orgasms. You switch between watching his face twist up as he gasps, breathing heavily, and watching the way his dick pulses as he cums over your fingers and his hips jerk up. He cums on his stomach slightly, his eyes closed as you assume he’s now spent.

“Give me a second,” he excuses breathlessly, “Oh, fuck. I’ve never cum that hard from a handy. I don't even think with myself.”

He opens his eyes, sitting up, “You have two choices. You can either clean up the mess on your hands with a washcloth, or you can lick it up, or both. It’s your call.”

You stare at him for a moment, unresponsive, “Um. No... Can you pick for me? Please?”

David laughs softly, tugging his shorts up and deciding to not make you nasty yet, “Go wash your hands, honey. Washcloths are in the cabinet by the shower. Quickly – you don't want that to dry on you, I promise.”

You nod, getting off of the bed and making your way to his bathroom. It’s as clean and organized as his bedroom is, and you wash and dry your hands, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet he indicated. There are more condoms – how many does he need? – but you don’t focus on it, drying your hands and running the fabric under warm water. You bring it to him and gently wipe away the cum on his stomach without his asking; David is blown away and flattered as to how much you so obviously want to earn his praise.

You make sure to toss it in his hamper before sliding back onto his bed, not entirely sure what to do next.

“Lie down, baby,” he tells you, arm wrapping around you and tugging you into his chest, “You did so good.”

You’re silent for a few moments, before you break, “Do you have a big dick?”

That genuinely makes him laugh, “I have heard that it’s big...and very hard to take. Just a warning.”

“Take?” you question, looking up at him confusedly.

“There have been a lot of times where it doesn't fit.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Good luck, sweetheart, but I won't hurt you.”

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik fanfic #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik x oc #david dobrik x you #david dobrik/you #you x david dobrik #david dobrik au #LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK MY PRAISE KINK NEEDS IT

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motsimages · 3 years

Text

A list of Hollywood things that may be what real life is in the US and the equivalent situation in Spain. Feel free to add your own country. I’d love to know of other places :)

This is going to be long, so the TL:DR is there are many things I know about the US because of the movies, landscapes, hobbies, cultural things, everyday life things and sometimes they feel very normal or like something that happens in movies, no in between. They are neither and this is a list of differences I can think of in regards to Spain.

Click there to find out, there are pictures and all.

- Going to school by car, by bike or in a yellow bus: We either walk or your parents drive you (specially when you are too young to go by bus on your own or your parents are overprotective). Not really bike because bike lanes are a mess (in that they don’t exist) in Spain, it is dangerous. There are school buses if students come from places that are further but they’re average travel buses and once you are 16, you cannot use them. You have to go to school from 16 to 18 in public transportation because school is not mandatory after 16, it is understood it’s your choice. You may have a motorbike at 16 but I don’t know anybody who went to school in it. All of this is extra -fun- if you live in a village as in there may not be any bus service if it’s a small place or you live far apart from the village.

The picture is an average school bus with a woman in charge of picking up children. It looks like it’s in the country or maybe, the outside neighbourhoods of a city.

- Dating: we don’t date. If you like someone, you find a way to hang out with them and hope for the best. It may be more or less clear what is going on but it’s not a date, just a plan. You go to a restaurant/movies/theater... when you _are_ in a relationship or with friends. Not a date. The confusing hell it is to watch people saying things like “It’s a date! I’ll pick you up at 8!” Ok. Maybe they pick you up but still not a date. Also: not a problem if you have sex straight away or if you don’t feel like it (because there is no social obligation around it, no date). It seems to be a big deal when you are 30 and “never been in a date” but the first time I was in a date was with my current boyfriend _after_we started going out (I was 30 btw). I met him on a dating app, btw. Still don’t consider the first time we met “a date”. “Going on a date” maybe a thing but still probably based on movies.

- Prom: very confusing. Specially the part where you _have_ to have a _date_ (again, not something we do ever). If we do a ball (IF, also it wouldn’t be a “ball” as such but a “party”), it is actually expected to go on your own, with your friends. It would be a massive social pressure to go with the boy you like (with whom nothing happened prior to this) in front of people. Nah, you either go with your partner that you already have or with mates. But generally speaking, there is no “prom” or “graduation” in high school. In my high school, we spoke with a restaurant to have dinner, invited the teachers we liked and after that, went to local bars to party until the next morning when we went to see what grades we had received for the year. It was done like this so those who failed the exams could still party with the rest.

As for uni, maybe some other colleges do something but we didn’t (mainly because I studied translation and half of the people in my year were abroad that year). I don’t even have a picture of my graduation. People usually dress smart and then wear a band with the colour of their faculty.

The picture is graduation from Tourism (if I’m not mistaken). It shows a group of girls on a scene, all of them smartly dresses with an orange band on their shoulders. Their classmates are sitting on the grades of this “theater thing”, all wearing the same band.

- High School: in general, it’s very confusing. It seems to me like there is some kind of obsession with high school years given all the movies about high school and all the “childhood sweetheart” stories out there. For us, it is quite an irrelevant period of our lives, almost like school. You do it because you have to but often, life (and interesting things) happen AFTER high school. Our high schools don’t have lockers, you just carry 5 books in a backpack. But you have your class, only a couple of things take place in other rooms (maybe Science in the lab, or some optional subjects). Public schools close once the classes are over and all the activities you may want to do, you do them somewhere else (paying for them, most of the time). There are no School teams of anything, you don’t play against other schools either (maybe private schools do, I don’t know). In my high school, I remember for Spring we organised like a week of activities and you would sign up with your mates if anything. You and 2 others would make a basketball team to play in the Basketball league against other people in your class but it isn’t “The Official Team”. I remember there was a card tournament for the game of Mus (typical from Madrid). Also, we don’t have The Popular, The Band Kid, The Nerds, etc. clearly separated. There is bullying (but our toilets are not full of water so you cannot drown there) but either you are normal or you are the weird kid, so to say. I was a weird kid who suffered some light bullying and then I went to average, with no bullying. Overall, everyone speaks with each other and unless it’s a severe case of bullying (which there are), there are no underdogs or closed groups. We don’t have yearbooks AT ALL and this “Clown of the class” thing? I personally find it borderline problematic.

Picture of an average high school in Spain. It’s separated in two halfs. On the left, there is a couple of people carrying backpacks in a corridor. It’s quite dark, a window at the end giving light to the corridor. On the right, one of the doors of the corridor is open and shows a classroom. There are lots of green tables and chairs, all of them in pairs. At the end there is a blackboard. The light comes from the window.

- Alcohol consumption and other drugs: We can drink at 18 and it’s not a big deal if you get drunk. By the time you’re 18, your parents have seen you drunk more than once. You may have gotten drunk with your parents. You’ve seen them drunk more than once. Spain is quite an alcoholic society, tbh. BUT we do not like aggressive drunkards or dependant drunkards. You can get drunk but you have to be able to still be nice. Your friends will stop hanging out with you if you get drunk too often, too heavy or too badly (and you will find those who follow you, obvs). We do it to socialize and have fun, not to knock out. Weed is partially legal (I don’t really know the law, you can get fined for carrying but not arrested, you can buy paraphernalia in shops, there are cannabis clubs, people can smoke on the street in the open, you can grow it at home, it can be used for medical purposes or recreational). Other drugs are illegal though personal use may be allowed? I don’t know but I do know that it’s relatively easy and cheap to find other harder drugs, and so, they are commonly used at parties. The 80s were a complicated time in Spain because the heroine consumption was over the roof. It killed many many people in that generation.

- Houses: in cities, it’s more frequent for people to live in a flat. Depending on the time when this flat was built, the quality of the materials will be better, the flat will be bigger or smaller. Houses are something you see mainly in villages and they tend to be next to each other, no garden (maybe a patio). In the last 20-30 years, people started to show an interest in something that looks like “suburbs” from the movies (even though “suburbio” in Spanish actually means the full opposite of “suburbs”) but it doesn’t fit the weather nor the way we live and I personally hate them. And wooden houses are out of this world, everything here is made of stone or brick. Traditional houses here are made of stone with thick walls (up to one meter of thickness). I attach pictures of houses in the North of Spain. Southern houses are full white, no wooden structures to be seen from the outside.

A village in what looks like the North of Spain. There is a lot of vegetation, you can see some white and brown houses in a grass field. There is a tower at the back. We see a town square with houses made of stone, red roof and wooden balconies. Most of the walls are painted white, some aren’t and you can see the stone itself.

- Physical contact: in the movies, people rarely hug. It seems to me that maybe in the 80s-90s people hugged, touched more on screen. At some point in the 2000s it stopped and now you have people crying their eyes out and their best friend just standing there. We stand closer to each other and touch each other to show care, interest and affection very often. Some people in Spain are not very tactile (and thus, really like Northern Europe) but generally speaking, if someone cries, you hug them (unless you know they don’t want it, in which case you stay nearby). Heterosexual men also hug and also hold each other by the shoulder, for instance. I know this is a shock for some foreigners (don’t know if in the US it would be). From the times I’ve met US people, they’re not only surprised but sometimes actually scared that people touch them. Not even Asians react the way US people do to physical contact in Spain. BTW, when I say “touch”, I mean “the arm, shoulder” mainly. Other places require closer levels of friendship. However, you may kiss your partner/lover anywhere in the street, it’s ok, usually goes unnoticed by people. Even my parents grab each others asses occasionally in the street.

This picture is from La Torre de Suso, where 4 friends gather after 10 years of being apart because an old friend died. It also touches on drug addiction and the 80s. It shows 4 men in their 40s wearing a jacket and a tie, smartly dress, smiling and about to hug each other in the middle of the street of what looks like a small town.

- Welcoming someone to the neighbourhood: apparently, people bring cakes to the new comers. We don’t, you’ll eventually meet your neighbours. Or not. But you have to say hello to the people you see on the stairs of your flat, in the street you live. In small towns/villages, you have to greet everyone you know, at least say “hi”, ideally actually stop for small talk (I’m terrible at this but getting better now that I live in a small town).

- Church: it seems to be a big part of people’s lives. Very often, people are going to church, all ceremonies seem to be religious (marriage, death...) and they tend to be Christian (sometimes Jewish but they seem to be less involved in their religious life?, or maybe the movie is done by non-religious people?). In Spain, everything is Catholic and at the same time, it isn’t. Many traditions are Catholic and people enjoy them but they aren’t Catholic themselves. There are churchgoers, of course. There are Catholic cults with massive power in politics and society (Opus Dei, mainly). But we had a fascist Catholic dictatorship and many people got very tired of it. To give you an idea of how things usually go: everyone in my village eats the same meal (fish and garbanzo beans for lunch, potato omelette for diner) on Good Friday (even my family, where nobody has ever been religious willingly). Only old people and some very Catholic families go to church. Most holidays are related to Catholic Saints (this gives us lots of long weekends and days off during the year) and they are often celebrated with a town fair that lasts several days.

In theory, Spain has no religion. In reality, it is Catholicism. In schools/high schools there is a subject called “Religion” and almost always it’s about Catholicism (teachers of this subject, even in public schools, are related to the Church somehow). It is not mandatory but often there is no alternative if you don’t want to take it (I was the only child who didn’t attend and had my own homework during that time that my mother chose for me: Ethics).

The image is from El Rocío, an important religious fair that takes place in the South of Spain. Many local fairs look similar to this. Lots of people are gathered in a small temporary white hut, decorated with garlands (white and red) and the flag of Andalusia that is green and white. There is a bar with small glasses of white wine and some plates with food on them.

This said, it’s very frequent to get married at the Town Hall with a couple of witness and it’s also very frequent for burials to happen in the Tanatorio, where people can say goodbye to their loved one but it’s not in church.

And even many church goers are not devoted Christians, are open minded about LGBT issues or other, for instance.

- Prison: We don’t have death penalty but people can spend their life in prison if their crimes are massive and they add years and years to their sentence. Prisons here are public and as far as I’ve seen in Spanish movies, there are no uniforms, you wear your everyday clothes. You will only go to prison if you committed a serious crime or if you have several small crimes. Often, the first time it’s a reduced sentence that can be made into paying a fine. The second time you will go to prison. This happens even for domestic violence/rape which usually causes great controversy in society. You can leave earlier if you behave well (very earlier actually) and sometimes you can leave the weekend and the come back to prison, or leave for x hours and come back to sleep. It depends on the sentence and behaviour, etc. I’d say terrorism is the hardest charge and right now, they are using terrorism as an excuse to sentence activists (there quite a lot of political prisoners in Spain).

I mention crimes because you have to have LOTS of other offences to go to prison. They usually are just fined.

The picture is from the movie Cell 211 which is an excellent movie. Do watch it. It shows the main character, a bold man with a goatie wearing a sweater whose sleeves have been cut off. He looks serious. On the background, many men wearing everyday sports clothes cheer and look in the same direction as him.

- Laws: I don’t know Spanish law very well (it bothers me to say that I may know better what to do with the police in the US than in Spain) but it seems to me, from the movies, that many things are made into a massive deal in the US. Like jaywalking is apparently an offence of some kind? Here you can just cross the street wherever. People respect the crossing path for safety but it’s not a crime to not do it. People also don’t sue companies or other people as often and it’s usually not that big of a deal maybe? In any case, it’s a completely different legal system.

. The 50s: The 50s in the US are fancy and colourful. Society seems to have been thriving, everything was getting better. In Spain, the hunger years were starting to be over but many people were poor. We were in the worst of the Franco dictatorship, it was quite a rural society that had been destroyed by a civil war (the effects of which are still being felt). Rich people were fascist, poor people could be anything (many were actually communists, republican or other leftist). This is not a happy time in Spain. Many people had left to be refugees in other countries, many were leaving illegally to work in Germany or France. The music we listened to at the time was definitely not Elvis Presley (look for Lola Flores or Miguel de Molina, even though he ended up fleeing the country because he was openly gay and republican and they almost killed him once).

This image is from the movie Los Santos Inocentes, based on a book of the same title. A classic of Spanish modern literature and cinema. This is the way most people looked in the 50s in Spain. Even now old people look like this in villages.

It is like a family picture in front of a white house. Everyone is wearing black, dark blue, dark green or grey. From left to right, there is a boy sitting on a bench that is situated next to the door. Next, it’s a young girl wearing a long grey skirt and a dark green jacket. By the door, the mother holds a very thin boy who seems to be either deeply sick or dead. She wears mostly black and gray. The boy has the brightest green in the scene. Next to her, there is a man wearing a gray jacket and a bonet and finally, there is an older man that seems to be smiling (the only one smiling, everyone else has a serious and gloomy face).

And that’s what I can think of right now.

#hollywood #cultural differences #life in Spain #Spain #comparing movies #us life #spanish life

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