#or liquor we definitely take that in trade too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvrhischier · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can I request a jamie drysdale fic based on the song wish you were sober by Conan Grey?

wish you were sober // jamie drysdale

pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: alcohol/drinking, idk ooc jamie ig

a/n: didn’t know who you wanted to be the drunk one so i assumed you wanted jamie

a/n 2: i didn’t go back and really edit this so excuse any mistakes pls

This party's shit, wish we could dip

Go anywhere but here

Please don't drink more beer

I'ma crawl outta the window now

'Cause I don't like anyone around

Kinda hope you're followin' me out

But this is definitely not my crowd

You used to love this. The parties, the drinking until you made decisions that you would regret in the morning but laugh about later, the meeting a new stranger every night and flirting with no intention of anything real or lasting. But now you hated this. The music was too loud and the people were louder. The heat from bodies cramped together dancing and making out made it hard to breathe.

“It’ll just be us and a couple of the guys.” That’s what Jamie had said and you were fine with that, you were looking forward to it.

Honestly you should’ve known better. You should’ve figured it out when he insisted on taking your car, saying it was more comfortable. Looking back you were mad at yourself for being so naive.

When he pulled up to the house you knew you couldn’t drink even if you wanted to. Someone had to drive home because he wouldn’t be able to, he was never able to be the one who drove home after nights like this. You looked down at the cup in your hand, just water.

You wanted to leave more than anything. You didn’t care where you went you just didn’t want to be at this stupid party. Maybe tonight would be the night that he would want to leave just as much as you did. Maybe he was having a horrible time and wanted to go home and just put on some cheesy movie until you both fell asleep. You needed to find him.

You scanned the crowd from the corner you had decided to stay in, looking for him. You knew exactly where he’d be but a small part of you wanted to believe tonight was different so you still searched everywhere but there. Finally you gave in and looked at where the liquor was. You felt any hope you had of him wanting to leave slip away. There he was, grabbing another beer.

“Jamie, please don’t,” you whispered. “Just put it back down.” You were begging that somehow he would magically hear you.

You knew that you’d never make it over in time to stop him so you were praying that maybe he had just enough sense to stop himself. But he didn’t. Your heart deflated as you watched his lips make contact with the bottle. You had to look away before your heart broke anymore.

You scanned the crowd again. Each new face you looked at was a complete stranger. You needed to leave. You knew none of these people and few that you did know were scattered everywhere, hidden in the sea of people who were all drinking, smoking, and dancing. If you were doing the same you’d probably want to stay. But you weren’t.

Nineteen, but you act twenty-five now

Knees weak, but you talk pretty fly, wow

Ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed

Take me where the music ain't too loud

Trade drinks, but you don't even know her

You tried to think back to when this whole cycle started. It was never like this before, so what was the turning point? You didn’t want to admit that getting drafted was the turning point but if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that’s exactly when everything changed, when he changed. You loved that he was getting to live his dreams but hated that the cost of that was losing himself. He was a kid thrown into a world of screaming fans and constant requests for pictures and autographs and he felt like he had to act a certain way in order to make it.

You were at your limit for the night and you had to leave and get as far away from this party as possible. You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to push through the crowd. It was now or never.

You entered the crowd. You tried to be soft and polite at the beginning. Saying excuse me and waiting for people to move out of your way on their own. A few people stepped aside and let you pass, but most didn’t, they were too caught up in their own little worlds. The nice way wasn’t going to work.

“Get out of my way,” you yelled repeatedly as you forcefully pushed people out of the way, not caring that they were gross and sweaty. You could hear, “Fuck you” or “What the fuck?”, being yelled in a never ending cycle with the occasional, “Bitch,” to spice things up. You couldn’t have cared less about their words or feelings, all you cared about was getting the hell out of there.

When you made it out of the crowd you could finally breathe again. You raised one hand to your chest as the other ran through your hair and sighed. You looked up and there he was. His back was facing towards you and it was almost like he was permanently attached to the bar where the alcohol was set up.

You walked up to him and softly tapped his arm to get his attention. He turned with the biggest smile on his face. He shouted your name in glee.

“There you are!” He exclaimed and pulled you in for a hug. He reeked of alcohol, it was too much for you to handle, you had to pull away. “I missed you.” He pouted when you looked up at him.

“Yeah I missed you too,” you muttered. You watched as he turned to grab something and turned back with a cup in his hand.

“You wanna drink?” He held his hand out and his words were slurring together. You looked at the cup then back to Jamie’s face.

“I can’t drink anything,” you sighed.

“Why not?”

“Because someone has to drive home,” you were trying your hardest not to snap.

“Right, right,” his eyes glanced down at the cup before he quickly downed it. You wanted to scream. He tried to go back to his beer but you grabbed it from him and placed it out of his reached. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that!”

“Can we please go home?” You asked as you stopped him from trying to get another drink.

You wanted to give him an opportunity to show that he was still somewhat himself again. He said nothing but his eyes looked at something behind you. You watched as Jamie stopped a random girl that was walking by.

“Can I have that?” He pointed at her cup. The girl giggled and nodded before handing it over. “Thanks,” Jamie smirked then winked, his drunk confidence taking over.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as Jamie went to take a sip of the random drink. This was a new all time low. You raised your hand and smacked the cup out of his grip before he could. You watched as the liquid landed on some poor boy just trying to get a beer. You whispered a small apology. You turned to look at Jamie and saw that he was laughing at what just happened.

He wasn’t himself, he was completely and utterly wasted. You were once again going to have to drag him out of a party. You grabbed Jamie’s elbow and pushed past the girl and pushed through the crowd like you did before, much more forcefully this time.

“I don’t want to leave,” you could hear him whine as you made it outside. You finally stopped at the sidewalk.

“I know you don’t but you have to,” you sighed and turned to him. When you looked at him you could see that he was still adamant about staying. “Jamie please,” you whispered, practically on your knees begging. You watched as his eyes scanned your face for awhile.

“Okay,” he finally agreed.

Save me 'til the party is over

Kiss me in the seat of your Rover

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

The alcohol hadn’t completely hit yet so he could still somewhat walk on his own, only needing a little bit of help. When you made it to your car you let out a breath of relief. You went to open the passenger door and watched as he stumbled his way towards you.

“Come on let’s get you buckled up,” you helped him climb his way into the car. You felt like a mother taking care of her child right now and you hated it.

“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” He asked as you got him sat.

It was starting. Most nights Jamie would run off at the beginning of the night, completely abandoning you. It was only afterwards that he finally acknowledged you, and tonight was one of those night.

“Yes, I know. You’re my best friend too,” you smiled, trying to just go along with his drunk rambling.

He hummed, feeling satisfied and happy that he was also your best friend. You grabbed the seatbelt and leaned over to buckle it. You felt his lips kiss your cheek. It was sloppy and wet. The first time this happened you felt butterflies and your body felt like it was on fire. Now it was just another one of his drunken habits.

“That was really sweet,” you said as you checked the seatbelt one last time.

When you pulled away to shut the door you saw that he had a big goofy smile on his face.

All of this would mean something if he was sober, and you wished more than anything that he was.

Trip down the road, walking you home

You kiss me at your door

Jamie spent most of the drive talking, you couldn’t understand him half of the time but it kept him occupied so you just let him continue. When you pulled into the driveway you took a moment to prepare yourself.

This part was always hard. The alcohol had caught up with him. He was a mess who could barely walk on his own. Having to help a drunk, 180lbs, hockey player walk to his room never got easier, even if you’ve done it almost 100 times. For now you wanted to just focus on getting him to the front door. You walked over to unbuckle him.

“Okay I’m gonna need your help, okay? You said as you helped him out. “Put your arm over my shoulder,” you instructed. He nodded his head and dramatically threw his arm over your shoulder. You let out one last breath.

Slowly, and wobbly, you made it to the door. You turned your head up at Jamie. His eyes were lidded and he was softly humming to himself. If you hadn’t seen this a million times before you would be laughing and smiling and finding this adorable.

“Lean against that wall so I can unlock the door.” You place him back against the wall and watched as he slid down. You let out a small groan, before unlocking the door. You pushed it open the turned back to Jamie. “Come on let’s get you back up.” You exasperated.

When he was standing up and leaning against the wall again, you took a moment to collect yourself. You leaned your forehead on his shoulder and felt a tear slip out. You gained your composure before going to look at him again. Jamie took this as an opportunity to quickly give you a kiss. Like the kiss on the cheek earlier, it was sloppy and wet but now it was like you could taste every drink he had drank that night. You pulled away quickly and felt another tear fall. You knew that Jamie wanted to say something but you started to move him before he could.

You kicked the door closed with your foot once you were inside. You looked at the stairs, this was always the difficult part. You readjusted Jamie’s arm and your hold on him. You walked to the stairs and stopped.

“Lean against the railing for me, just a little bit,” you ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Jamie saluted playfully.

“We’re gonna go one step at a time and we’re gonna do it slowly.”

Pullin' me close, beg me, "Stay over"

But I'm over this roller-coaster

I'ma crawl outta the window now

Getting good at saying, "Gotta bounce"

You kicked open his bedroom door and quickly made it over to his bed. You sat him down and took a moment to regain some strength to keep going. Once you felt okay enough to continue you kneeled down in front of him.

“At least take me to dinner first,” he joked. You just scoffed before taking his shoes off. You walked over to his dresser and grabbed a random pair of sweats and a random shirt.

“Put this on.” You tossed him the clothes. You left before you started to undress.

You walked to the kitchen to get water and some medicine for when he woke up. You leaned against the counter and let out a frustrated sob. Tears you had been trying to hold back started to fall. No, you couldn’t cry yet, you had to make sure he was situated. You splashed some cold water on your face and grabbed the pain medicine and water, grabbing extra for Trevor who obviously wasn’t home yet.

When you returned he was sitting on his bed again. You set down the water and medicine on his nightstand before turning to him

“Stay,” he said softly and he grabbed your hand and pulled you to stand in between his legs. He leaned his head against your stomach and your hands went to run through his hair.

This was the part you hated the most. The part where he asks, sometimes begs, you to stay. The part where it feels like he’s completely sober and himself again. But he wasn’t and you couldn’t stay, you never did, no matter how much you want to.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You gently pulled his head away to look at his face. Knowing that when you saw his face you’d be brought back to reality because his face showed that he was still wasted. You sighed and helped him lay down. You could see he wasn’t happy with your response. “I can come over another night, I have a big test that I have to study for. Not all of us can be professional hockey players,” you forced an excuse and simple joke out of your mouth.

“I think you could make it in the big leagues. You always give Trevor and I a run for our money,” he smiled as he settled into his bed. You smiled softly and watched his eyes close.

You always stayed until he fell asleep just to make sure he was okay. When you heard his breathing even out and soft snores you knew you could go. You walked out and quietly shut the door behind you. When you were halfway down the stairs Trevor walked in. You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.

“Uber, I promise.” He held his hands up, already knowing what you were about to ask. Satisfied with his words you continued.

“I set out some water and meds for you. They’re on the counter,” you said when you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re literally a saint,” he smiled as he hugged you. You softly laughed before pulling away. When Trevor saw your face up close his smile dropped. “Is he…” He trailed off. You looked back towards his room.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Can you just text me later and tell me how he’s doing?” You walked to the door.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Goodnight Trevor,” you smiled as you walked out.

Honestly, you always let me down

When you got in your car you just sat there for a moment. This was exhausting, life draining almost. You leaned your head against your steering wheel and finally let out the sobs and tears you had been holding in.

You couldn’t wait to get home. You couldn’t wait to take a warm shower and wash the night off of you. You couldn’t wait to lay down in bed and sleep for an entire day. And as much as you hated it, you couldn’t wait to see him again.

He would be himself the next you saw him and it would feel like everything was okay.

“I’m never drinking that much again!” Is what he’s going to say and stupidly you’re going to hope that this time is he was being honest.

But deep, deep down you knew he wasn’t. You knew he was going to do this again and again because he always did. He always let you down in the end.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale oneshot #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras × reader

180 notes · View notes

dearreader · 1 year

Text

so i’ve been thinking this over since i watched the new episodes drop for daisy jones and while i am okay with the show not being faithful to the book as things work on the page but not on the screen, im really pissed about billy and camila. like there’s no point to this besides me ranting about how they ruined the characters so much.

cause here’s the thing, in the show they’ve drastically altered billy into being more controlling and manipulative at times (getting daisy to sing the song by kissing her when she asks if there’s anything between them only for the song itself “you’d be more fun to kiss/than to be with”) and while he his definitely those things in the book it’s more so toned down or feels different because HE ID A FAMILY MAN. like the show has me being a shitty husband and dad when in the book after he got out of rehab he cleaned up his act fast. he even told camila that he would leave music for her, his passion, cause he wanted to make it up to her for all that he did. when they’re first dating he’d call her any chance he got even if it was collect just to say “billy dunne loves camila alvarez” (that’s the last name in the show and i’m too tired to grab my book). like even graham says the reason why billy cheated on the first tour was fear of his expectations of being a shitty father like his and that pressure drove him to do what he did. but when he gets out he makes up up to camila anyway he can. he does everything he can to prove he’s worthy of her only for her to say he’s already worthy. AND CAMILA FORGIVES HIM. like she’s angry, obviously, but in the book she just has an idea of a life with billy and tells him he won’t ruin it. so she forgives him, she lets him love his life cause he knows he never wants to make that mistake again and she loves and trusts him. like in the book he tries to bring camila in at every opportunity cause he wants her their as much as possible because even he says “he traded one addiction for another”. so he isn’t hiding the songs from her, she’s actively apart of it and is okay with the songs because she trusts him and billy keeps saying it’s all a metaphor for drugs “cause you can hide anything in a love song”.

which then brings me to daisy. the thing that makes me most upset about them changing a very beautiful and trusting relationship of a man grappling with being a father and his addiction is that he’s being slowly tempted by daisy, not even to her knowledge. like camila is soberitu out and daisy is drugs. everyone described daisy as “if she’s having fun your having fun”, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t hate her cause she was just so amazing, and how she’s always on something, she hasn’t been herself since she was 15 and only knows the drug addicted alcholic. SHE IS WHAT BILLY NEEDS TO STAY AWAY FROM. he’s clean, he’s recovered, but yet he still gets urges and has to fight them cause addiction is a disease and it’s a constant struggle day and night and it’s oh so much harder when the impossible woman is dancing outside your view and she’s a metaphor for all the things you can’t have!

and this hurts especially when at the end of the novel we literally see billy with a glass in his hand trying to pour the liquor in his mouth but being unable to because of his family. because he loves them and knows it’s what he has to do. all while camila is being level headed and having a jolene moment to daisy that she needs to leave billy alone. like she’s terrified of losing billy to her but camila doesn’t take it out in a angry “you bitch! stay away from my man!” but instead as two woman, one whose trying to find some stability in life and sees all that she needs in billy and vice versa and the other as someone trying to keep her family together cause she loves being a mom and having a family and doesn’t want that destroyed by billy’s addiction.

like it’s such a beautiful moment and it’s truly this pinnacle of how well written and planned her character is cause most woman couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. but camila knew what she was worth but also knew daisy was too. and even in that conversation camila encourages her to find a life of her own cause it’s still so young AND SHE DOES and even daisy thanks her! and after camila dies she tells her daughters to wait a bit before giving their dad daisys number because camila just wants him to be happy and even ends it cheekily of “they owe me a song”!

like that’s so beautiful and poetic. but in the show we just see them constantly fighting and being upset because of the tension with his addiction and cheating; which while valid CHANGES EVERYTHIBG. instead of having a wife demand her husband pick himself up to be the man she needs she’s fighting him for the man he wasn’t then. but you can’t even fault her cause while book billy was willing to help be a father and help camila during any point he had free time and would even rush home after bad things to remember what was important, she’s left with this man who is nothing like that. he’s barley their and camila us so tired she (possibly) cheats on him with eddie just so she can have her own secret.

like i’m not faulting either of this but changing their relationship ever so slightly has this drastic affect on the full story and what it’s trying to say.

anyway, rant over. i like the show but i’m just annoyed

#i again do want to clarify i like the shoe #im just salty cause they changed so much so it ruins a really good metaphor for billy’s addiction #kelly babels #daisy jones and the six #kelly reads #kelly reads daisy jones and the six #kelly rants #rant

24 notes · View notes

yoongsisbae · 2 years

Text

Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho | KSJ

Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin'!

Fluffy fluff fluff. PWsomeP. Seokjin x reader. Soulmate AU.

Warning: sweet lovin', oral sex, face riding, orgasm denial, somnophilia kind of, stocking kink, Jin has a foot kink because he just loves ALL of y/n okay! insecure!reader, intoxication (not drunk), outdoor sex, tiny bit of angst mentioned

Word count: 3.3k

---

You sit inside your hammock admiring the Christmas lights strung through the palm trees, a glowing rainbow against the starry backdrop of the night. At first you didn’t go for the idea, but your boyfriend insisted, and now, despite the warm weather, you appreciate the festive touch it gave your home.

Speaking of boyfriend, you could hear him coming closer, whistling the tune of Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town. Your very sweet, sometimes embarrassing, very sexy boyfriend who, by the looks of it, has enough liquor to subdue a small army.

“Are we stocking up for a storm?” you tease.

“I bargained a great deal, and look!” He holds up one of the bottles, the red and white striped label on display. “Just in time for Christmas!”

You laugh, falling back into the hammock. Letting the sides cover you away from the rest of the world, you see only trees and twinkling lights and the curious face of your boyfriend peaking over the top.

“Hey beautiful,” Jin smiles wide. After all this time, his cheeky smile still makes your heart flutter with excitement. “Scoot over!”

You yell playfully as he wedges himself next to you, pulling you close, fingers languidly tracing circles into your shoulder.

Being in his arms feels like home, like healing. You wouldn’t trade these quiet nights alone together for anything in the world.

Jin reaches over for one of the bottles. Taking his time, he wiggles the top off, pulling off the cap with a loud pop and a wave of his arm, he has you giggling from his over-dramatics.

He takes a long drink of the peppermint liquor. “How is it?” you ask, sniffing the bottle, it smells nice, like Christmas.

He sucks in air through his teeth, “Not bad, but very strong. I’ll come up with something to mix it with, for you.”

“That strong?” you take a sip from the bottle, recoiling as soon as you swallow the liquid. Jin booms with laughter. “Well the aftertaste is nice,” you grimace. “How much did you say you paid for this?” you look at him disapprovingly.

“So that might be why I got such a good deal,” Jin laughs, hugging you tighter. “I missed you, I haven’t seen you all day,” he whines.

This time of year there were always more tourists than usual, those who wanted to escape the bitter cold weather up north to enjoy winter in paradise. You couldn’t blame them, even if it kept your boyfriend busy.

“I missed you too,” you smile, resting your head on his chest, humming the rest of the Christmas carol. “Are we going to-” you notice your boyfriend has fallen asleep.

Seokjin had a talent for dozing off anywhere at any time. Sometimes you worry it’s because he finds you boring, troubled by that nagging voice inside you that tells you you’re not exciting enough, captivating enough, for someone like him, but he says it’s because he feels safe around you.

You try not to overanalyze it too much as your eyes become heavy in his warm and cozy embrace, accepting perhaps it was just the alcohol and the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on shore. You felt too merry to worry about your insecurities tonight.

---

You wake up Christmas morning to Jin sleepily kissing your shoulder, his soft caresses and wandering hands. You let sleep pull you under again, enjoying the feel of his warmth next to you.

You float, anchored by Seokjin’s touch. Pleasure mounting until you were brought back down to the physical, your boyfriend’s mouth lazily licking at your center. All at once, your slow movements turn urgent, your body reacting powerfully to his ministrations. Once he noticed you awake, his fingers delved inside, slowly stroking your walls.

“Merry Christmas, Princess.”

You answer with a soft moan. You felt yourself floating again, except this time heading for heights of Nirvana. You tense as he moves his fingers in and out, sending you higher and higher.

Jin takes his time, slowly, teasingly, until you’re a shaking mess, until you’re whimpering, hazy and needy for release.

“Open your eyes, Baby.”

You open your eyes, blurry from your tears and sleep. At the sight of your boyfriend your insides tighten around Jin’s fingers.

Jin’s hair is tousled from your hands pulling at his locks, his deep concentrating eyes penetrating you as he licks harsh circles into your clit. He pulls away and replaces his tongue with his thumb.

He sits back on his knees, watching you intently, his free hand down his pants. “Are you close?” He asks, he already knows the answer, but he loves teasing you, pushing you out of your comfort zone, making you tell him just how badly you want him.

You answer with a nod, and he slows his movements down. “Yes?” He prompts.

“Y-Yes!”

“What do you want? Hmm?” He insists, changing the speed of his fingers, driving you mad with want.

“You, y-you, please.”

“My what?” He asks with a grin, releasing his stiff cock from the top of his pants. You can see how hard it is, standing erect and begging to be touched by you.

You spread your legs wider and arch your back. “Please, I-I want your dick.”

He leans over and kisses you softly, whispering against your mouth. “I thought you’d never ask, Princess. But first-”

His hand moves quickly, pumping in and out of you, no longer holding back. He presses into the spot that takes your breath away. it’s unfair really, how well he knows you, what you like and don’t like, Jin is an expert on the subject of your body, and he uses it to his advantage.

You come undone, and Jin gently puts you back together again, body pressing you down as he lets his tongue roam inside your mouth, fingers secure inside your tight walls, grounding you to him, inside and out while you fall back into blissful rest.

“I want my present now,” he says, placing rough kisses against your jaw to wake you up. You sleepily nod, moving to leave but his arms hold you steady.

“No, baby, I want you.” Jin undresses you like he’s unwrapping a gift, pulling at your clothes, tearing the buttons off your nightshirt. That wakes you up. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he smirks.

“I liked that shirt! You’re lucky it’s Christmas!” You laugh.

“I am lucky,” he smiles. “That you’re all mine.” He punctuates his words by pressing his thick cock inside, grunting from the tightness after your orgasm.

“F-fuck!” you cry out, shuddering against him. His hands hold your thighs down, bending you over his cock as he pounds into you at a demanding pace. Your legs twitch in the air from how deep he’s hitting you with each powerful thrust.

He pulls away, close to release already. You know what he likes, placing your feet on his chest you close your thighs, constricting his cock. You let him have his way with you.

He grinds his body into you, large hand pressing the back of your knees down, dragging his thick cock in and out of your tight slit.

His free hand wraps around the sole of your foot, bringing your toes to his lips as his thrusts deepen. You feel dizzy from the rough way he rocks your body into the bed while his wet tongue drags along the pads of your foot so softly and lovingly.

“You’re so sexy, moan louder, baby.” Jin has a vice grip around your foot. Your insides pulse from the tickling sensation of his mouth pulling in your toes, sucking and rolling his tongue across your heel. You moan his name, crying out in pleasure, sending Jin over the edge.

With a heavy grunt he releases inside of you, falling over you and cuddling your naked body.

Now you’re the one fully awake and he’s the one dozing off. You laugh to yourself, running your fingers through his hair and untangling the strands. You don’t mind the extra hours in bed for the holiday, not when Jin stays with you like this, bodies like one.

---

“Dinner is almost ready!” Jin yells from the kitchen.

You rush around the bedroom, worried he won’t like your surprise. It’s silly, and now that you’re in it, you’re rethinking everything, self conscious in the provocative outfit you picked out.

Jin has his back turned to you when you sneakily enter the kitchen. You use the opportunity to hug him from behind, holding him close, you shyly whisper “Merry Christmas,” into his back.

He turns around in your embrace, inspecting the red dress hugging your body. “What is this?” he admires the velvet fabric, your white stockings and gloves, and sultry makeup.

“I’m here to, um, give you whatever you want this Christmas.” You say, shyly pointing to your Santa hat.

“W-Wait.” His eyes run down your body one last time. “Hold on! Let me turn everything off,” he rushes around the kitchen. You feel awkward standing in such a weird costume.

“Sorry, this is silly, I’ll go change.”

“No! Wait! Stay right there.” He pulls you into a kiss, silencing your worries, leaving for the bedroom.

You laugh when he comes back, his arms lifting you into an embrace.

Jin is wearing red pants and red suspenders, a white beard and Santa hat. Your boyfriend is conveniently missing a red jacket, or shirt, or anything to cover his muscular chest. “Ho ho ho!”

“Oh no!” you giggle. “There can’t be two Santas.”

“What are you talking about? You are so very clearly my sexy Mrs. Claus.”

“But I wanted to be Santa,” you pout, giggling.

“Ho ho ho, you’re Santa's naughty little helper!” Jin pulls you back into his arms, planting his face into your cleavage, his fake white beard tickling your skin.

“Hey! Yeah right I am the naughty one here.”

“Ho ho ho, Santa can’t be naughty! Santa makes the rules!”

“Okay, fine, Santa. Let’s eat while we talk over this naughty list of yours.”

“Ho ho ho, Santa plans to do more than just talk!” Jin’s hand runs under your dress, pinching the curves of your bum.

You yelp, “I think Santa has had a little too much of that peppermint liquor.”

“Santa has one more surprise for you,” he smiles sweetly, eyes full of warmth. Jin lovingly kisses you, but you can’t help but giggle as his fake beard tickles your chin.

---

“This is embarrassing!” you hide behind Seokjin as you walk along the beach.

“There’s no one here! C’mon, you’ll like it, I promise.” He winks, looking comical in his white beard.

Next to the water, covered in faerie lights there’s a red blanket decorated with pillows, fruits and chocolates, champagne glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine, and that darn peppermint liquor.

Jin places the packed dinners down next to everything else. “Ho ho ho! Do you like it?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful!”

“Don’t cry!” He hugs you close, whispering softly into your ear, “Ho ho ho.”

You can’t help but giggle, wiping away your tears. “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Claus.” You hit him playfully. “I love you.”

---

You watch the stars and listen to the waves, full and a bit tipsy. Reaching over for some candy, you happily munch on it as Jin absentmindedly massages your foot with his strong hands. He watches the moon reflect against the rolling waves, appreciating the quiet. The water is twinkling and so are the stars. You see how the world sparkles in Jin’s presence.

Half way through dinner he took off his beard, he really had been determined to keep it on, but after eating one too many synthetic hairs, he gave up. You had taken off your hat, let your hair free, pulling off your white gloves before dirtying them.

You admire Jin’s muscles, emphasized by the moonlight. He reminds you of a firefighter without his beard and Santa hat. Red pants and suspenders, hair blowing in the breeze, sealing the look for you, he looks like a hero, the one you needed in your life.

“This day has been perfect,” he whispers. “I wish I could stop this moment,” he says, turning to you, “Be here with you forever.”

You hum in agreement, smiling. “You're right. How will we top this next year?”

“Maybe next year...we’ll have a family to share it with?” he raises his eyebrows, laying a soft peck on the top of your foot. “What do you think? A mini me running around.”

“A mini you? He would be a terror,” you laugh.

“How dare you, woman!” He yanks on your leg, pulling you closer. Your dress inches higher from the friction, exposing your thighs, your white tights on display. “You know, if you keep sucking on that candy cane like that, I am going to put a baby in you right now.”

“Mmmm.” You let the candy cane enter your mouth deeper, moving your free leg down to his lap, pressing the sole of your foot over his growing erection.

Seokjin watches your lips pucker around the sweet rod, hips jerking up against your leg. “You’re asking for it,” he warns, tackling your body, covering any bare skin with a flurry of kisses.

Your laughter turns into soft moans as he pulls the top of your dress lower, exposing your chest to the cold wind. His hands play with the soft skin of your breasts, tongue rolling over your sensitive peaks.

He lifts your dress in the other direction, exposing the heat between your legs, pressing his knee down to widen your legs more.

“Have you been a good girl or naughty girl this year, Baby?” Jin asks, rubbing his thigh over your center.

“Very naughty,” you moan, your body buzzing with need.

“Yeah, you have,” he smirks, fingers tangling into your hair. “My naughty little girl.” He tightens his grip, pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

It was hard to accept, how he doted on you, acting so sweet, so loving and understanding, but when your sweet attentive boyfriend showed this side of himself, rough and demanding, you begged for more.

“Yours.”

He unbuckles his belt quickly, lifting a leg over his shoulder, you move to pull off your stockings, the fabric soaked at your core.

“No, keep them on,” he smirks, voice deep with lust, rubbing his thumb over your center, pressing the fabric into you, making you moan from the pressure. He catches the thin fabric on his nails, and rips open a large hole. You gasp in surprise when he easily breaks the lace of your panties, exposing how wet you are for him.

Your lover's eyes are dark with passion, cock hard inside his pants as he ruins your stockings with holes. You're too captivated by him to protest, aching for him to touch you, to ruin you like he ruined your clothes.

You pull on his arms, pull his shoulders closer, until you're able to kiss him, moaning into his mouth, hands tangled in his hair, unwilling to let him go.

You don't let go until he's inside so deep your limbs stiffen, back arching into him for more. You come with a silent scream, overtaken by pleasure, heightened by your new surroundings, the risk, and his roughness. Jin rides your waves of pleasure, lets you stay drowning in ecstasy, lets your tightening walls milk him until he's crashing into his own climax, releasing all over your legs.

Your lover is back to being endearingly charming as he lays soft sweet kisses over your spent body.

“Ride me, Princess,” he pulls you on top of him, lips sucking on your supple skin, “C’mon ride this sleigh.”

Well almost charming.

“Oh, you’re ridiculous!” You laugh, covering his mouth. His tongue licks the inside of your palm and you yelp, giggling, pushing his shoulders down. Jin smiles wide, tongue still between his teeth, moving his arms behind his head.

You roll your hips into his, transfixed in the way his plump lips part and his brows turn down as his breathing picks up.

“You feel so good,” you whine, “I'm going to cum again.” Jin takes the opportunity to pull your hips up, moving you over his chest. “W-What are you d-doing?!”

“I told you I want you to ride me. On my face, Baby.” You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at how ridiculously excited he looks at the prospect of you sitting on his face. “All I want for Christmas is foryoutoridemyface,” he sings.

“N-No, I can’t, w-what if I hurt you, what if-”

“What if it’s the best orgasm of your life?” He finishes.

“I doubt that,” you mumble.

“You’re not going to hurt me, trust me.” Jin runs his hands up your thighs, kissing the skin he can reach, inching his body down so his mouth can reach more.

“I see what you’re doing,” you warn.

“Baby, do you love me?” You answer with a shy yes. “Do you trust me?” You mumble yes. “Then trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about, Princess. Please, you look so fucking sexy,” he groans, fingers pulling at the holes in your stockings. “This can be my Christmas present!”

“I already gave you a Christmas present,” you whine, but you move your legs over his face.

Jin doesn't wait for pleasantries, immediately pulling your thighs down over his waiting mouth. You fall forward, hands in the sand as you feel his tongue diving right inside you.

Your boyfriend was right, this did feel amazing, you were hurling closer to orgasm, struggling to keep your weight up. Jin's strong arms pull you back into position, not letting you fall forward, making the angle his tongue can reach even deeper.

You shake over him, pleasure and worry mixing into a confusing cocktail of sensations. You make the mistake of looking between your legs, at the sight of your boyfriend, eyes wild and forearms bulging locked around your thighs. He sucks on your lips, on your clit, drinking in your juices. It's too erotic, too strong, your visions blacks out as your body gives out.

---

You smile, watching the night sky as Seokjin snores against you. Out here, you can see the starry night clearly, it’s a beautiful and mesmerizing sight, the way the stars glow in the black sky like the faerie lights around you.

You hug him closer, resting your hand in his. You can’t imagine a life without him, by your side, telling you sweet jokes and loving you so unconditionally, slowly building up your confidence with every loving look he gives you.

His words are sincere, but the way he looks at you, like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, makes you feel beautiful.

You want to give Seokjin what he wants, you would start a family with him. You would marry him if he asked you.

You see a bright light flash through the sky.

No, you’re too old to believe in children’s stories.

It must have been a falling star. You make a wish. You wish for happiness with Seokjin, to be with him always. You close your eyes.

You open your eyes.

---

You are still holding his hand as your eyes become watery, tear after tear escaping, you silently cry to the idol in front of you.

---

This story is based on Jin’s handshake in my soulmate AU HOAL, the last sentence is part of that story. If you want to read more about this couple, read here, but be warned, it gets angsty real quick T_T

Naughty Girl Christmas

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #seokjin x you #jin smut #jin fluff #jin fanfic

385 notes · View notes

obeymeluv · 3 years

Note

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc.

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content.

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts:

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you.

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates).

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse.

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking).

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy.

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything.

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair.

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings.

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree.

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable.

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Levi x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphie x Reader #Belphegor x Reader

278 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Vampire Chris drunk on blood?

CW: Drunkenness, drug addiction, blood drinking, vampirism, creepy abusive comfort, WWI-period-appropriate xenophobia and brief vague possible homophobia reference, dehumanization, war whump

"Now, that'll get you blotto faster'n French liquor," Kirk says, sinking back against the muddy trench wall, careless for the dirt caking itself into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His helmet lay beside him upside down on the ground, and his brown hair was free to explode in its wealth of curls, a kind of halo around his head. He had one arm out, sleeve rolled back. His hands were caked in mud and smeared with drying dirt - above the line of his sleeve, though, the skin was paper-white, almost clammy.

It was this white skin that the vampire's fangs were buried in.

"Shit, Holden, y'gotta have 'im bite you, too." Kirk's grin widens. The shells had gone silent but every man flinches, now and then, hearing a phantom sound or feeling a rumble beneath their feet.

At least it's finally stopped goddamn raining.

The venom rolls through Kirk's veins, soothing his jangled nerves. He can barely feel the trembling in his hands and it feels like his mind, when it's in him. He's a farm kid from western Nebraska, the second son and not needed so much as the first to bring the crops in. So here he is, learning to love the feeling of teeth in his skin.

Maybe when he gets shipped back home he'll stick to the cities. They say the vampires have their dens there, where they can hide. You can buy venom enough to quiet your mind for a day or two, the city boys tell him.

They're in it as deep as he is, now.

Feels like half the American army is itching for venom these days.

"No thank you. I'm not gonna get sent home and start chasing fangs like the rest of you." Holden squints, looking up into the dark sky, the rolling clouds that seem far too close to the ground. "It'll rain again soon."

"When isn't it going to rain again soon? Oh, right, when it's already bloody raining." That's a Brit, they just call him Tommy. No one knows his real name.

He claims to hate them all, but since half his unit was blasted apart two days ago, he's hung with the 'Yanks' close enough. Kirk thinks he's fond of them, even if he won't admit it. Or just scared to be alone. He can understand that. He's terrified of the thought himself. "Shove the little vamp over to me, Kirk, I want some."

The vampire pulls his fangs free, licking over the wounds he's made until they close. He's a skinny little thing, pale as paper with bright red hair they stuff under his helmet when he's running medic checks in No Man's Land, trying to make him less obvious. Sure, he can't die from gas, but he can be blown to bits by a whizz-bang fast as any living soldier can.

"Please," The vampire says, turning big green eyes up to Kirk. "I, I, I'm tired, please, can I sleep?"

He's got heavy dark circles under his eyes. It's kind of cute.

"No," Kirk answers, curt, shoving the vampire away by his head, watching him fall into the mud. His uniform is marked with it, now, a dab of dirt over the 'V' sewn next to his medic's cross. There's a satisfaction, in Kirk, just in seeing the little thing laid low.

He won't die in this war, and Kirk probably will, but before that happens he can at least hurt something he can see. You can't see old Fritz when you fire on him from a distance - but you can see a vampire flinch in the dirt. It's not much.

It's something.

"Must be daytime," Holden speaks up, still staring up at the clouds. "You can't tell, weather like this, but if the fangs're tryin' to sleep, must be day."

"He sleeps when we're done with him, and not a moment before." Kirk's voice is a murmur, eyes half-closed. He's drifting in it, the way the venom dulls and deadens the eternal ache in his back and legs. The Germans could come roaring over the bags right this second and Kirk wouldn't give a damn at all. Let them kill him, at least he can go with venom in his veins, not as a basket case carried off the field. "Not a second before. Go on, bloodsucker. Get over to Tommy and help him get some shut-eye, huh?"

"I've been drinking all night, pulled some rations off someone," Tommy groans, rubbing his fingers at his temples. "It's done no good at all." It's a funny little gesture, so oddly normal and casual. Reminds Kirk of home.

His throat tries to close, homesickness bowling him over. The wish to return to his mother's worn smile, sit down to dinner and have her ask him about his day, when his problems revolved around the harvest and the hard backs of the pews in church-

He takes a breath, forcing it back, and gives the vampire a vicious kick in the ribs, listening to his high-pitched cry and how he curls around himself with a smile of his own.

Oh, he'll die, probably. The others from his town already have. But he can remind himself he's still alive, for now. One way or another. He can cause pain he can't feel himself, for once.

"I said get over to Tommy and smooth out his sharp bits, bloodfuck."

"Yes, um, y-yes, Kirk," The vampire says, pulling himself onto his hands and knees. His fingers are smashed into the mud deep enough to nearly disappear. If they could only get a few days of sunlight to dry out all this dirt, it wouldn't be such hell.

As it is, his socks've been damp for weeks, his boots feel like they're caging his feet in a swamp. He's worried about trenchfoot and trying not to think about it. He stole these boots off a dead German when his own started to fall apart, anyway.

He could've probably gotten new ones, but... it had felt good, taking something from Fritz after Fritz took so much from him.

Kirk tries not to remember that the German soldiers he fights have never caused him a single moment's harm on purpose. They're only fighting for the same reasons he is - because someone higher up who doesn't give a damn about them said to.

Kirk had been all gung-ho for the war until he'd been sent over here to fight it. All those articles in the newspapers, all the speeches given by men standing in town squares... it had all made it seem so patriotic.

They never tell you, Kirk thinks bitterly, that you'll be sent into a slaughterhouse. They don't tell you you'll spend your day breaking a vampire's fingers one by one just to watch them heal back into place and listen to his little cries.

Just to pass the time.

"Trade me your flask while the fangs takes care of you," Kirk says, and Tommy hands it over easy enough.

He watches Tommy grab the vampire by one arm and yank him over, vicious and violent, making the vampire boy cry out again. The sound is starting to grate on Kirk's nerves. It makes him sound too human. He hates being reminded that every vampire used to be a person.

He drinks whatever's in the Brit's flask, and it burns down his throat just the way he needs it to. Wipes out his worries, relaxes shoulders that seem always to be tensed up nearly to his chin.

His mama's a teetotaler, back in Nebraska. He'd been one, too, until the first bombardment. Now he drinks anything he could get his hands on, and the officers mostly looked the other way.

"Bite," Tommy orders. Kirk raises his eyebrows when Tommy doesn't roll up his sleeve but pushes the vampire's face instead towards his neck, turning his head to the side to bare it.

His eyes meet Kirk's, and he smiles, bitterly. "Works faster this way," He explains. Kirk just watches as the vampire's fangs glint in the eternal dim twilight, hesitating before they bury themselves in Tommy's skin.

The little monster's back arches, pressing them chest-to-chest. A low rumble comes from somewhere deep inside, the animal sound the vampire makes during a good feed. He doesn't do it much with the regular unit any longer, they mocked him for it and one day he stopped.

The vampire's throat works as he drinks, and Tommy's arm slides around the monster's thin shoulders, forcing him closer. He's nearly kissing his forehead, this way.

It's an embrace, and altogether more intimate of one than Kirk thought he'd ever see from the cold, standoffish Brit. He feels a blush creeping up his neck and his cheeks as Tommy lets his head fall back, groaning softly in a kind of contentment as the venom hits. The sound isn't quite like a groan at all, it's more like-

"Fucking hell, Tommy, are you an invert?"

"Invert suggests I give a damn what bites me," Tommy replies, without opening his eyes. His slurred speech deepens, goes slow. His hand curves around the vampire's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm after oblivion, lads. I don't care what parts the fangs have that give it to me."

"Fang-chaser," Holden says, good-naturedly. Clearly not bothered the way Kirk is. Maybe that's just his farmboy past talking, that he's even unsettled at all. Maybe Tommy's got a point - who cares what's between a vampire's legs if you're only interested in the damn thing's mouth in the first place? "Fucking fang-chaser, that's what you are. End up in a den getting your hips bit like Oscar Wilde."

"Who's Oscar Wilde?"

Holden laughs. "You should try reading a book or three sometime, Kirk."

"Sure, sure, whenever I get the damn time in-between running over this blasted nothing. In any case, Tommy's definitely a fang-chaser."

"Guilty as charged... just like you two." Tommy's hand slides up into the vampire's hair, gripping tight and gently pulling backwards. The vampire's fangs slide free, and it laps at the wounds, rapidly. Tommy groans again. Kirk finds himself unable to look away at the bob of Tommy's throat. How good does it feel, in the neck? He's never thought to try it. He thinks about it now. "Turn me in to face discipline for unnatural relations with the fangs and I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it. Fucking Limey bastard." There's no real animosity in Kirk's voice. He's too distracted, drunkenly considering the vampire boy's mouth. Wondering if he knows how to kiss. "You shared your liquor, I shared our bloodsucker, we're both of us in it to our necks."

"Not me," Holden says, innocent and pure as the driven snow. As if he weren't the one to give Kirk the idea to use the venom in the first place.

Kirk throws a clot of mud at him, which he dodges, laughing. They're all laughing, soon enough, except for the fangs.

The vampire lays there, his head pressed to Tommy's chest and forcibly held in place by his arm. His eyes are slightly wide, unfocused, and Kirk leans forward.

"What's this, then? What'd you do to the fangs, Tommy?"

"Hm? Nothing. Oh, I'm pissed as can be, do they feel the liquor in your blood?"

"I'm guessing they sure do. You drunk, fangs?"

The vampire's eyes drift over to Kirk, move too far to one side, come back again. He swallows, thickly. "I... I think I, I, I am," He says, and tries to push back against Tommy's chest, to free himself.

The Brit's arm crushes him back into place, his other hand moving up to run through the vampire boy's dirt red hair, petting him like one of the ambulance dogs. Kirk and Holden laugh at the vampire's weakness. "Stay right where you are," Tommy murmurs. "Or I'll run you through with my bayonet and let you squirm all day."

"Christ," Kirk says, blinking. "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"He's not alive, what does it matter?" Tommy lets out a bitter little laugh. "Might as well get a preview of our own ends, shouldn't we?"

"You two, maybe." Holden crawls into the dugout, the little bed-space, a kind of cave dug in underneath the upper layers of the trench. He lays down on his back, closing his eyes, hands behind his head. "I'm going to go back home and never think of you lot ever again."

"I pray every night to make it home," Kirk says, nodding along. "Not sure anyone's listening, but I got to try, don't I?"

"What happens to the fangs, anyway?" The Brit looks up, rocking a little back and forth. As if the bloodsucker were a baby needing soothing. The vampire boy has relaxed against him, the liquor-laced blood he drank lulling him into a complacent bonelessness. Kirk watches the vampire boy's fingers start to tap over the Brit's chest, a strange movement he's seen the boy do before in his few relaxed moments between the scream of the shells. He hums, low in his throat, tuneless.

"Huh?" Kirk blinks. "What d'you mean, what happens to him?"

"After the war's done. What are they gonna do with the bloodsuckers? Can't exactly pin a bloody ribbon for valor on them and send them on their way, now can they?"

"Nope. I don't know what happens. Maybe they'll just stake them all and have done with them."

The vampire shudders, giving a little whimper. Tommy leans down, lips moving against the vampire's hair. "Ssssshhhh. Not to worry, little fangs. War's not over just yet, now is it?"

"N-... no. Not, not, not, not yet." The vampire's eyes close, pink-tinged tears creating pale tracks in his dirty face. He's a sad drunk, then, Kirk figures.

Aren't they all, these days.

"Maybe you'll outlive us all, and make fools of us for keeping you." Tommy speaks with a patronizing affection, as mocking as it is tender, petting through the creature's hair still. It's... unsettling to watch. Kirk had figured the Brits and French probably killed all their vamps, since they were all disturbed by the sight of the vampire medics when the doughboys first arrived in Europe.

This, though... this makes it seem like Tommy's known a vampire or two himself, in his life. And he's sure as fuck not unfamiliar to what venom is good for outside of giving relief from agony to the injured.

Kirk frowns, thoughtful.

He's turned into a thoughtful drunk, too, thanks to this goddamn war. Sad and thoughtful. What a fucking waste.

"Sleep," Tommy says, almost gently, to the drunk little vampire. "I've got you. Sleep, little one."

The vampire's eyes slip closed. He doesn't breathe - there's no sense of his chest rising and falling. Kirk has to look away before the sense of wrongness, watching Tommy cuddle a corpse, makes him sick.

He takes a long, long draught from the flask, and relishes the burn that reminds him he's human, and alive.

His own eyes slip shut, and he prays for an hour or two of sleep before the next screaming shell bursts overhead.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

136 notes · View notes

captainrexisboo · 3 years

Text

Shameless Flirt

Hey hoes! I’m (partially) back!!!

I had a sudden burst of writing inspo. I am very excited to finally give y’all my long awaited Hevy X Reader fic!! I loved writing this, Hevy was so fun to get into the head of. I was going to post this yesterday but then (of course, right as I wanted to start posting again lmao) Life Happened aHA-

Anyways! The Reader Is A Lady (although, it’s not really specified aside from she/her pronouns. still tagging it as female reader though)! No warnings apply, just a lot of flirty banter and a bit of smoochin! Reblogs, replies, and comments are highly encouraged. I love hearing from y’all! Enjoy!!!

Technically, it was your day off. However, being the workaholic you were, and bored just sitting in your quarters, you decided the best course of action was to pick up some things you had left at one of your workstations in the ARC training sector...like the stopping point of your last project. You waved and smiled past the guards and troopers patrolling the halls, the vode knew you so it’s not like they were surprised when you strolled through the stark fluorescent halls in your lounging civvies you brought from Corrie. It’s not like you didn’t do this every other off day. It’s not like they haven’t tried to stop you- but not even ARC Commander Blitz could give you orders to go relax as you hunch over another blaster, detonator, or even some type of launcher, without you grinning like a cheeky loth-cat, “I am relaxing, Commander.”

After the first few months of working alongside Blitz, he came to understand that nothing was going to come between you and your work. At least nothing short of the consequence of you kicking and screaming all the way back to your quarters. So he let you be. “Don’t mind her, boys, that’s just our weapons tech. She’s always at the armory, or here in the target range. Think of her as a part of the training- don’t you dare get distracted.” Every new batch of ARC-trainees got told the same thing, and everytime you’d smirk into your work with a casual but polite wave over your shoulder, not even bothering to look back-

“And what about after training, Commander, will she still be ‘distracting’ up here?”

-until today. His shameless intention laced his words, and you could feel his eyes run up and down the curve of your spine, following the shape of your legs. You stood straight from your bent position over the standing turret, turning around with an unimpressed brow as you cocked out a hip, “I sure will, but you’ve got curfew to make, trooper.”

It was easy to single out the flirt, even if they were all wearing helmets. There were five trainees this time, four of them had their shoulders shaking as they choked back giggles with varying snorts and fake coughs at their brother’s expense. The one second from the end to your right seemed taken aback by your retort, spine stiff, and visor still looking at you dead on. You slid your eyes over to where Blitz was sighing and shaking his head, taking as step forward as he ordered, “Fives, thump your brother’s helmet for me.”

“Aye, sir,” Fives managed to breathe out the two syllables without breaking, but needing to clear his throat before swatting the upside of the flirt’s head, effectively taking his gaze off of you and immediately to the floor. Blitz made his way across the room to stand in front of the trooper, and even though they were the same height, Blitz carried himself in a way that made him seem to loom over the younger soldier.

“CT-782, you said your name was Hevy, right?”

“Yes sir,” Hevy confirmed, voice coming out low, in a natural huskiness some clones seemed to have, as he stood even straighter, trying to mimic the Commander’s practiced stance. Blitz nodded a couple times, humming sagely- you recognized this though. He wasn’t thinking at all, he was just adding tension, the dramatic bastard. You couldn’t help but scoff silently at his demeanor as he took an inhale before continuing.

“I’ve read up about you and your brothers, soldier. The outpost at Rishi, getting recruited into the 501st, your entire batch surviving every fray, hells I just saw all five of you in action during the Separatist invasion just a couple days ago,” Blitz took a moment to exhale, something that could have been mistaken for a sound of intrigue, “You no doubt deserve to be here. An entire batch making it to ARC training? This hasn’t been done since the last batch made specifically to be ARCs themselves. But son-” in the pause, now you could never be sure, but you were positive in that moment you heard the grating clicking of Hevy grinding his teeth at the term, “-I don’t recommend playing with fire. Lucky as you all have been, even in ARC armor, you’ll get burned.”

Hevy stole a glance back at you, to which you gave him a mock salute with your screwdriver and a delightfully crooked smirk before turning back to your work.

Instead of taking his Commander’s words to heart as a warning, he took them as a challenge. From that day on, whenever he found himself in the same room as you (provided Blitz wasn’t there to reprimand him) he would try his hand to win you over. Admittedly, it was very fun to trade bouts of wit with him. He was a cocky brute, but held a sharp tongue. His hot-headedness made it especially entertaining to get him all riled up, teasing him back, only to give him a flick on the nose or a poke on his chest plate. Hell, there was one time you went as far as squeezing his bicep. Specializing in weaponry, especially the heavy duty kind, his arms were definitely impressive. How could you not take that chance?

On the slower days, when he was too tired to even run his eyes over you, he’d still find you hunched over your workspace in the armory to watch you perform your task of the day. An arms specialist finding interest in a weapons technician’s work? Shocker. Still, being surrounded by the blasters and countless ammo and bombs in the armory, listening to the gentle clicks of your tinkering and watching your fingers go through repeating nimble motions over metal plates and little rivets did seem to put him at ease after a rough day. It was something you could much too easily relate to. Over the course of Domino squad’s ARC training, those days where he gave you quiet, warm company were your favorite.

Today was not one of those days.

You had been given a new assignment, transferring from the training base...to travel with the Domino squad once they graduated in the next few days. And it seems like they just got the message too. You rolled your eyes as you heard his low whistle from across the room, but from the safety of being turned around you couldn’t help a sly grin take over your face.

“And what, praytell,” Hevy’s gruff voice fills the armory as his boots echoed off the walls with their weighted falls, like you could hear the sway in his step to the beat of his walk, getting closer to you as you continued to lean over your work table, “Did the Domino ARCs do to get a pretty little thing like you to be our weapons technician?”

“Oi, leave her alone, Hevy,” ever the gentleman, Echo tried to ‘defend your honor’ from the shameless flirt as he walked in not a moment later, “Unless you want her to issue herself for a transfer to a different band of ARCs? Keep talking to her like she’s some meat pie, see where it gets you.”

“Awh, thank you, Echo,” you cooed over your shoulder before pushing up your goggles to give Hevy a sugar-coated pout, “Eat shit, Hevy.”

Hevy knew this game, taking his helmet off he shot you a charming wink, before turning to his brother, “What other ‘band of ARCs’? We’re the only notable ones, all the other ARCs are in CO positions, or are riding it solo and getting contracted to separate battalions for separate missions every day! We’re the only full squad of-“

“Half a squad,” Echo interrupted, taking off his helmet to shoot his brother a criticizing arch of his brow, “You realize a full squad is nine soldiers, right? This stuff has been drilled into us since decanting-”

“Then why do they call us the Domino squad?”

“Rolls off the tongue better than Domino batch,” you grumbled into your work, slipping your goggles back on and trying to focus amidst their conversation, “Look, are y’all actually here for something, or-?”

You trailed off, continuing your practiced movements as you waited for an answer. Hevy leaned next to you on the table, careful not to jostle it, or you, with his weight. He had learned that lesson the hard way...some nights his shin still throbbed with the memory.

“We’re gonna celebrate, not just the graduation, but now with you getting to tag along!” Hevy’s unusual cheeriness made you pause in your work. You turned to him, about to say something when he continued, “And we want you to join in the celebration too, mesh’la.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his offer. Sure, you were friendly to the troopers, and Hevy seems to have gotten especially comfortable around you, but you didn’t think they’d want to invite you to something as special as that. You pulled the goggles completely off your head, setting down your tools as you turned around to lean against your table, “I’ll bite. What’s the catch?”

Echo and Hevy looked between themselves, before glancing at you with mirroring expressions of confusion.

“Why do you want me to join?” you elaborated, bringing up a hand to count on your fingers, “You wouldn’t want me there unless you had a reason for me to join, what is it? Contraband liquor? Snacks? Do you want me to secure the armory for the get together so you don’t have to have it in the barracks, or my quarters, or what?”

“The catch,” Hevy took a careful step into your space, mimicking your new pose, giving you an amused if not surprised smile, “is for you to have fun, not surrounded by guns and ammo.”

“And that’s coming from Hevy,” Echo scoffed, but agreeing with a wide shrug of his shoulders as he crossed his arms. You looked between the two of them as the moment stretched out for what felt like a lifetime… for Hevy at least. All the times he spent with you, all the terrible flirting and unashamed eyeing- he really wanted you to join. He could feel sweat begin to creep down his neck, the longer he waited for a response, swallowing down a gulp of dry air as his gaze flicked nervously over to Echo. Echo simply rolled his eyes- all of Domino Squad knew about Hevy’s true feelings for you. It was hard not to take notice when Hevy was just, well, like that. But they never seemed to learn about Hevy’s quiet times in here with you, how you two would partake in silent togetherness, finding peace in each other’s company. Not that Hevy was embarrassed, far from it, but he liked having that little piece to himself. Of course, he wanted more of you to himself, but for now those comforting silences while you built and rebuilt blasters were enough for him, because they were enough for you.

You kept your gaze neutral as you weighed the option of joining in your mind. It was far from a bad option, you liked this batch. They had been through a lot together, loved and protected each other like brothers should, and along with Hevy they accepted you as one of their own. What was one night?

“Yeah, alright,” you looked between the two ARCs, a grin forming as you stole a glance at Hevy, “I’ll join in. When is it?”

Hevy could jump for joy at your agreement, but he was still leaning on your workspace. Instead he smiled wide, tattooed cheeks crinkling parallel to the corners of his eyes, letting out a relieving breath, “Tomorrow night, the eve of our first deployment as ARCs. Be at our bunks at 1930…and if you do have any liquor-”

“Hevy-”

“Of course I have liquor,” you interrupt Echo’s chiding with a wink to the heavy gunner, bringing your forefinger up to trace Hevy’s jawline, gliding along the sharp edge, the pad of your fingertip calloused from years of work, and swelling with pride at how his dark eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your teasing touch. Coming off with a playful tap to the tip of his chin, his eyes snapped open at your sultry chuckle, “See you tomorrow, soldier.”

You turned back to your work, slipping your goggles on a final time, but not before a quick and casual wave over your shoulder, “Later, Echo.”

Echo couldn’t figure out your mood toward Hevy worth a damn. He looked between your aloof manners and Hevy’s moony grin, deciding it just wasn’t worth trying to pick your brain at, partially because he was smart enough not to get involved, but also he wasn’t certain he’d be able to stomach the answer. Catching his brother's eyes, he made a discreet gagging motion to him before fitting his helmet back on and walking out the door, “See you, techie.”

Hevy stayed back a bit longer, continuing to watch you work. He was completely quiet, but his silence was deafening. You breathed out a huff of laughter, the tops of your ears beginning to heat up at his attention, wetting your lips, “Well?”

“Hm? Well what?” he shook himself out of his stupor, blinking back into time at your voice.

“Are you gonna leave now n’ let me work?” You cursed inwardly at your harsh words. You liked Hevy, deep down he was a real sweetheart, but you always found yourself being so coarse to him. Thankfully, he was as much of a hardhead as he was a hothead, and he met your indifferent glare with a devilish grin that made your heart jump doubletime.

“No, I think I’m gonna sit right here and watch your lovely hands make something amazing.”

“Amazing?” you scoff, shaking your head at his compliment, “I’m just fixing up another DC-15A that some cadet broke. You need to head to the med station if you think that’s amazing. We both know the Z-6 rotary is far superior-”

“When you’re done with it, it’ll be the best DC-15A in the GAR,” Hevy interrupted, eyes shifting between your face and your hands, “Everything you do is amazing.”

You stopped what you were doing at the genuinity that filled his praise. He always spoke to you with a hint of truth, a bit of heartfelt sincerity to make his easy way of speaking more personal to you, more interesting. But there was something in his expression, maybe the dreamlike haze filling the depths of his eyes, or the way that his accent rolled off his tongue that had you placing your palms flat on the table before speaking low to him, “Hevy, what are you doing?”

“I thought I was pretty clear,” he shrugged with a sideways grin, still careful of the lean on your table, “I’m watching you. You’ve let me before-”

“I mean with the…” you gestured to his full self, keeping your eyes on your now resting project, “The whole...flirting thing.”

You caught him off-guard. The two of you have been at it for months now, but neither of you had ever said or acknowledged anything about it. It was like a silent pact between the two of you, continue the performance, but don’t mention the game. To suddenly come out of the unsaid arrangement, Hevy felt himself draw back, slowly lifting his weight off the table, “Do you...not like it? I mean I figured that you...you know, you’ve always responded…”

You couldn’t believe it. After always having something to say, being able to trade quips, building a friendship over the shared banter and ripostes, the fearless ARC trooper you’ve seen grow so much these past few months was babbling out broken sentences at a single question.

“I can stop, if you’d like.”

It was that whispered phrase that brought you back into the moment, turning to him with burning cheeks, “I didn’t say that.”

“Well then what do you want?” He took a step into your space, brow set and a jaw flexing as he frustratingly tried to understand your sudden shift, “We’ve been...flirting-” the word left him like he was saying it for the first time, each syllable carefully leaving his lips- “since the day I met you. Mesh’la, if you don’t like it, say something! We’re about to go to work together, travelling the galaxy for a long time-”

“Exactly,” you countered, poking at his chest as you stood defiantly to him, tearing off your goggles and mussing your hair off to the side, “Whatever this is, are we gonna continue it? Continue dancing around each other like some kind of goddamned soap opera where everyone but us gets off on our own self-denial?”

“Self-denial?” Hevy repeats, an incredulous sound leaving his chest as you saw a fire spark behind his stare, “Sweetheart, I’m not denying anything, especially things I haven’t been asked!”

“Alright then, fine!” Somewhere down the conversation, your voices had raised to shouting in the small space, even as you two stood almost nose to nose, and your breath hot on his lips you asked, “Do you like me, trooper?”

“Like you? It was love at first sight when you first told me off,” Hevy couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed at his confession, just focusing on fueling the flames between you, “And what about you, techie? How do you feel about me?”

“I think you’re a smartmouthed asshole with a heart of gold and a pretty face- yeah, I like you a whole fucking lot!”

This was ridiculous. You knew it was ridiculous. You could see it in his face too, the two of you breathing heavy, barely a hair’s width away from each other. You’re unsure who started it, later on you two would always claim the other giggled first, but eventually you found yourselves holding onto each other for support as you laughed out the rest of your pointless venom. His arms fit around you perfectly as your hands held strong to his wide shoulders, your laughter filling the room together, the sounds swirling in their melody as everything started to click perfectly into place. Once everything quieted down, your head resting against his chest as his hands ran up and down your back, you exhaled low and steady against him, slowly rocking in his hold, “Plastoid isn’t that comfortable to rest on, huh?”

“You should try wearing it,” Hevy snorted at your comment, leaning over to rest his cheek on the top of your head, “So...what now?”

You hummed, feigning thought before angling your face to brush your lips over the column of his throat, murmuring into his skin, “I wouldn’t be against a kiss.”

Something rich left his throat, the sound deep and thrumming through his chest before one of his hands found its way into your tresses on the back of your head, tugging gently at your hair to guide you to his lips. You couldn’t stop the brief hitch in your breath at the daring move, but you wouldn’t have expected anything less from the brash soldier. At your word he took the lead, slanting over your mouth in a soft motion, breathing you in as easy as air. You followed in confidence, welcoming the boldness with which he kissed you as the same boldness that had him playing the game you both set up. A small noise of satisfaction left you, not just from the perfect pressure from his lips moving so softly against yours, but also from the way his hand gripped so firmly at your waist through your canvas jumpsuit, his other hand still carding so thoughtfully through your hair; it was a sweet little gasp that Hevy swore he’d be replaying in his head for a week. Or at least until he was able to make another sound tumble out of you.

Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing the edges of his tattoos, pulling him impossibly closer. The payoff of this single kiss was absolutely worth all those months of gentle torture, the teasing touches and glances, discreetly watching his lips when he’d talk and thinking about how he’d feel against your own. Or even how he’d taste. In a stroke of your own audacity, you ran a slow, languid lick of your tongue against his lips, and the growl that came from him made the most delightful of shivers shoot right down your spine.

He had a robust, spicy taste, earthy and rich with a bit of heat that came tickling at your tongue. It wasn’t too surprising- he smelled the same way, smoky and hearty with the biting musk all clones seemed to carry with them. What did surprise you was the honeyed velvet of his own tongue eagerly coming to meet yours as you repeated your action. You could feel his infuriating grin at the helpless whimper that dripped from you at the feeling, and you nipped brazenly at his bottom lip in retaliation.

Before he could respond to your playful attack, the two of you froze as a throat loudy cleared from the entryway of the armory. Hevy almost didn’t pull away from you, a near silent broken whine coming from him (for your ears only) as he came off of your lips with a wet smacking sound. After a quick flex of his fingers, he removed his hands from you just as slowly, your own hands sliding down from his face to clasping behind your back. You both turned to face the bucket of Commander Blitz, arms crossed and stance wide in the doorway. He nodded toward the hall, “You left the door open.”

You cleared your throat, pursing your lips to keep from saying something ridiculous. Hevy clenched his jaw, trying to accomplish the same thing. Blitz’s visor smoothly slid to gaze over you, and you straightened in the mimic of his cadets. “You finally relaxing, techie?”

A short chuckle escaped you, lips twitching up in a coy grin, “I am, Commander.”

He nodded, that same dramatic humming leaving him as he turned then to Hevy, who tensed at full attention to the ARC Commander. “What about you, son. How’s that burn feel?”

“To be perfectly candid, sir,” Hevy, always pushing the limits, turned to shoot you a look with a quick lick of his lips before responding, “Absolutely thrilling.”

Blitz nodded again, taking slow steps into the room, like how Hevy had earlier that day, letting each step echo off the walls until he was about two feet away, “I’m happy for you both, but please. Don’t be stupid. You’re lucky it was me walking by and not one of the longnecks, or the nat-born chief trainers. Close the doors. And do me a favor, wait till you’re both off Kamino for any of the heavier stuff, okay?”

You and Hevy both confirmed the Commander’s request with quick nods and mumbled “Yes sirs,” making him let go a long breath. Uncrossing his arms, he pointed to Hevy, “Trooper, hit the showers. Move it.”

Hevy shot you one last look, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was bashful, before saluting Blitz, grabbing his helmet and marching out of the armory. You stood straight, still under Blitz’s cold stare from his visor, until he sighed, slapping a companionable hand on your shoulder, “If he steps out of line, I better be the first vod you call. I will kick his ass so hard, he’ll be knocked back to failing the Citadel the first time-”

“At ease, Commander,” you rolled your eyes, you hand coming up to hold onto his, brushing your thumb over his knuckles with a soft breath of laughter, “He didn’t lay a hand on me until I asked him to.”

Blitz squeezed your hand, taking off his own helmet to look at you. He looked a little older than Domino did, cheeks slightly hollowed and eyes a bit deeper set, a bittersweet shine coming over his amber stare, mouth twitching up into a lopsided smile, “I’m gonna miss you, after you go off with those fools.”

“You’ll make great friends with the next techie who comes along. Who knows, maybe they’ll actually listen to you,” you smile back at him, the two of you masking the tears threatening to fall from your lashes. He pulls you in, touching your foreheads together, before giving two more pats to your shoulder.

“And remember,” he pulls off of you, placing his helmet back on and causing his voice to come out in a soft static, “Please, for the love of Jango, don’t-”

“Don’t be stupid,” you salute to him, winking for extra effect, “Aye-aye, ori’vod.”

181 notes · View notes

corinnesamuels · 3 years

Text

The One about the Cupholder

This is for @mppmaraudergirl, who mentioned a conversation about a cupholder on a couch not being conducive to cuddling on the jily discord. I spent all day thinking about that couch. And the next few thinking through this fic.

“Well?” He asks excitedly.

“It’s. . . a couch?”

James Potter rolls his eyes with a sigh. “It’s a sectional, Remus. Look at all this space! And the recliner!” He walks around the back so that he can gesture grandly at his favorite of the sectional’s amenities. “It has a cup holder!”

The third friend, Sirius Black, shakes his head in annoyed confusion. “We have a coffee table, James. What do we need a cup holder on the couch for?”

“Sectional.” James replies. “And for the convenience of it. Whoever sits here won’t have to lean over to pick their drinks up from the coffee table!”

James looks between Sirius and Remus excitedly, waiting for their unimpressed stares to dissipate and shift into fond acknowledgement of his forward thinking.

“Did the breakup addle your brain?” Sirius asks finally.

“Maybe it is a cry for help.” Remus nods as he looks James over curiously. “He really hasn’t had any time to process it.”

“True. The breakup and the betrayal were a hefty one-two combo.” Sirius says, rubbing his chin. “The betrayal was just one thing for us. We were happy to see the bird gone.”

“Nothing addled my brain!” James scoffs. “A man can’t want a comfortable couch to come home to after a long day’s work?”

“James, you work from home three days a week.” Remus says.

“That is beside the point, but thank you for remembering.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, clearly growing bored with the ordeal. “Look, if you want to get a couch, fine. It’s grey, it’ll work with most things. Looks comfortable enough. The cupholder seems unnecessary, but whatever. Can we go now?”

“Sectional.”

“Whatever.”

All in all, James considers it a win. And he could desperately use a win. In a month’s time, he had experienced a not-so-amicable breakup with his girlfriend and a betrayal by a friend he thought of as a brother. While the breakup had been long overdue, it meant that he had quickly needed a place to stay. The upside (if you could call it that) of their friend’s betrayal meant that there was a room available in Remus and Sirius’ flat.

On the other hand, the list of things stolen in the betrayal had included the couch they’d had since uni. How he’d managed, they had no idea. But Peter Pettigrew had been full of surprises, it seemed.

After a thorough cleaning, James moves into the vacant room and gets re-acquainted with Sirius and Remus’ daily habits. Soon, James instinctively knows when Sirius would be returning home from the motorcycle shop he owns, as well as which mornings he could expect to find a man or woman half-dressed in Sirius’ clothes at breakfast. He could tell when Remus would need time to vent or consume several stiff drinks as he trudged through his dissertation. It was almost like uni all over again.

Through it all, James gives himself time to sulk, drowning himself in FIFA, Call of Duty, and crisps after work. He knows that things will sting less over time, and for now, settles for being at peace and drama-free with his best mates. James spends the next year claiming the recliner portion of the sectional and keeping a drink in its trusty cupholder at all times. In fact, when teammates from the recreational football team he plays for on the weekends commented on the great shape he maintained even while eating his body weight in crisps, he credited it to the cupholder, saying hydration was always just an arm’s reach away.

Remus had raised his eyebrows and folded his lips inward at the comment but chose not to speak on it. Sirius just snorted and rolled his eyes.

Living with Sirius and Remus also meant spending more time with their friends that lived down the hall, who he’d known before, but only in passing. James finds himself watching football matches with Marlene McKinnon, a riot who often gives Sirius a run for his money. He makes it a point to ask Mary McDonald for the weather report (“You wanker, you know I do the traffic report and local stories!”). James also trades jokes in passing with Lily Evans, the cheeky pediatrics nurse who curses like a sailor and keeps her stash of lollies and stickers next to her stash of whiskey.

Cheeky and attractive pediatrics nurse.

James has no desire to interact with the opposite sex again anytime soon, though. For now, all he needs is his gaming consoles, his favorite spot on the sectional, and a drink ready for him in his cupholder. But the more their friends hang out, the more Lily seems to grow on him.

She didn’t do anything in particular. She was just . . . her.

He knows he is a lost cause when Lily manages to get herself locked out of her apartment one evening. Mary is covering a shift at the station, and Marlene and Sirius are out wreaking havoc on some unsuspecting establishment, so she waits it out at the flat with James until her roommates return. Lily has her hair in two buns atop the sides of her head, a sticker on her cheek, and is still in her scrubs, and James can’t help but grin at her as she walks in. He watches as she digs deep into her pockets and pulls out a handful of lollies, allowing him to take his pick. He takes a green apple-flavored one while she settles on lemon.

“Now, teach me how to play this FIFA game you’ve been playing nonstop since you moved in.” Lily says, picking up the second control and making a show of pressing all the buttons madly.

Sitting on either side of the cupholder, James and Lily play the game, joking and laughing the entire time. James realizes that though he had stopped moping some weeks before, he laughed more with Lily that night than he’d laughed in who knows how long. When Marlene and Sirius return, Lily thanks James for his hospitality and leaves a sticker and another green apple lolly in the cupholder as she says goodbye.

James spends the next few weeks subtly watching Lily when they pass each other in the hall or go out for dinner or drinks with the gang. He honestly doesn’t even really realize that he is doing it until one day he thinks he sees her watching him, too.

When Remus defends his dissertation, the gang decides to throw a celebratory party at the boys’ flat. Remus is deliriously drunk, taking votes on whether he should burn his dissertation or build a shrine to it. James mingles and laughs with their friends and Remus’ colleagues but eventually retires to his favorite spot and places a glass of whiskey in his cupholder as he pulls the lever to recline the seat. He looks over to the other side of the sectional and sees people squeezing themselves onto the cushions and sitting on the floor as they chat drunkenly. James smiles to himself, thinking of how the cupholder had ensured that he not only has his drink close by but that he also had enough space to relax. He toasts to his own foresight and takes a sip from his glass. It’s a brand of whiskey he knows is Lily’s favorite. James had gone to three different liquor stores to find it for the party.

Lily comes to say hello a few moments later and, seeing that there is no additional room on the sectional, chooses to sit next to him on the armrest of the recliner. While they talk, she reaches over him and takes his glass from the cupholder, stealing a swig of the amber colored liquid. She closes her eyes and smiles, relishing the taste. James finds himself very distracted by the euphoric look on her face—her closed eyes, head tilted back, dark red hair tumbling around her in waves, neck elongated . . .

He clears his throat to gather himself and reign his thoughts back to safer ground.

They talk about everything, or maybe nothing. James can’t be sure since he is still so damned distracted by her every move. He gets a reprieve when Sirius calls for a group picture to document the occasion. Mary has set up a camera and tripod that she, ahem . . . borrowed from work—though definitely not for the act of taking quality selfies, she says.

As Sirius makes his way to the front of the sitting room, he sees James and Lily talking and exchanges a devious look with Marlene that Lily sees too late.

Suddenly, Marlene shoves Lily off of the armrest. Lily attempts to brace her fall, but James’ reflexes kick in, and he catches her right before her back bangs into the cupholder. They lock eyes for a moment, or maybe a lifetime, before they seem to realize that James is holding her in his lap.

“I’m so sorry, Marlene pushed me and—”

“So incredibly sorry, Evans, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just didn’t want you to get hurt—”

They stop and lock eyes again. James watches as Lily’s cheeks grow pink, and when she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he wishes he could have been the one to tuck it there.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Lily says, uncharacteristically bashful as she looks up at him through her lashes. James is so distracted by the way she is biting the corner of her lip that he almost misses it.

Oh. Oh.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah.” She confirms softly. Her hair falls out of place again, and this time James does tuck it back into place.

Around them, Sirius and Mary are getting everyone gathered and placed around the sectional. A drunken Remus sits in the front, holding his dissertation like he’s posing for a picture with a toddler.

“Everyone one say ‘PhD’ on three!” Mary yells over the lively crowd. James hears Sirius count them down, but James can’t take his eyes away from Lily.

“One!”

Lily rests a hand on his forearm.

“Two!”

James wraps an arm around her legs to hold her to him more securely.

“Three!”

“I’m not uncomfortable either.” James tells Lily.

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“PhD!” The camera flashes, and everyone yells and cheers around them, clapping Remus on the shoulder and toasting with their drinks. But James and Lily still only have eyes for each other.

The previous year had been full of emotional upheaval for James Potter. But at that moment, he had never been so grateful for his cupholder or the fact that it meant there was less sitting room on the couch.

Sectional.

Whatever.

Read on ao3!

#jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #James loves his cupholder #Sirius isn't impressed #modern au #jily modern au

86 notes · View notes

sholiofic · 3 years

Note

(1/2) I've got a prompt that might be a bit R rated and gory, so I understand if you don't feel like it. SamBucky and Zemo are in a middle of a fight, Zemo gets in a very tight situation and to survive he has to resort to violence too extreme even for him (for example by ripping out his enemies throat with his bare teeth). Sam and Bucky see it happen and, to put it mildly, are deeply fucking concerned. Zemo tries to brush it off with "well you know I'm a bad guy >:3" but inside he is shaken, +

(2/2) + not only by what he had to do, but also by the onslaught memories of what he had to endure during the war in Sokovia in the late 90s. On top of that Sam and Bucky saw him do it, and it bothers him for some reason. So basically three veterans from three different wars dealing with PTSD.

Also on AO3: Catalepsis.

Zemo was covered in blood when they got to him, leaning with his back against the inner wall of the HYDRA outpost. There were ten guys dead on the floor, at least. He'd rescued himself before they even got there, and every last person in the compound except for Zemo was dead.

It was Winter Soldier stuff, Sam thought, a little dazed. Or Sokovian death-squad stuff, was more like it. It shouldn't have shocked him. He knew Zemo had killed probably about this many guys on the Madripoor docks getting them out.

But ... not like this. That had been fast, with a gun and the element of surprise. These guys had been killed with hand tools and probably bare hands in some cases, and it showed. It really, really showed.

"You're late," Zemo said, straightening. He coughed a little and wiped his hand across his face, leaving painted streaks of lurid red.

Despite all of that, Zemo had himself fully pulled together by the time they reached him, and Sam just found himself staring. Zemo smiled back. There was blood all over Zemo's face and even on his lips and teeth, along with a split lip and a bruise on his cheek.

"You okay?" Sam said at last. "I need to check you over—"

"I'm fine. Oh, stop with the shocked looks. You know what I am," Zemo said, pushing off from the wall. There was a slight wobble, and then he got his footing. "I never lied about that."

Sam traded looks with Bucky, and was a little surprised and maybe a little worried that the former Winter Soldier looked one step away from being freaked out himself. Some of those bodies were fucked up.

---

They set fire to the place on their way out. Sam hated it, but he didn't fight it.

Back at the safehouse, Zemo vanished into the bathroom and was in there for a really long time. The shower ran and ran.

Sam made burgers on the general principle that they all needed to eat, and then regretted it, and regretted it more as the smell of barbecued meat filled the backyard and the interior of the kitchen. He turned off the grill and ditched the charred burger patties in the trash. He turned on the stove instead and put on a pot of water for pasta.

Bucky was sitting against the wall, lightly running his flesh-and-blood hand over the metal one.

"No need to feel sorry for them," he said, and Sam looked around sharply. "They got what was coming to them."

"I don't," Sam lied. On some level he was aware—he was always aware—that everyone they dealt with, everyone they fought, was someone like Karli, someone like Bucky or him, or Zemo: someone who had a different choice at some earlier point in their life and for whatever reason, didn't take it.

The pasta water boiled over. Sam turned off the fire under the pot and after a while he dug into the fridge again, found cheese and sausage, and crackers in the cabinet above the stove. He made a plate out of it.

Zemo was still in the bathroom. Bucky had found Looney Tunes cartoons on the TV and lay down on the couch.

Sam had a definite feeling that a snack tray wasn't going to solve their problems, but he made it anyway, finding some kind of satisfaction in laying out cheese slices. There was a jar of olives and he added those too.

The water upstairs finally shut off, and some time later, Zemo came down. He was wrapped in a robe and shaved, and also pale and tired-looking. The bruise stood out brightly on his cheek, along with the sharp line of his split lip.

"Oh, that's very thoughtful, Sam," Zemo said, with a glance at the cheese plate, and he went straight past it to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a crystal glass half full of something amber-tinted and strong-looking.

"You mind sharing?" Sam said.

Zemo glanced at him, and then poured another and handed it to him. "James?" he said over his shoulder.

"Why the hell not," Bucky said, sitting up on the couch.

Zemo passed drinks around. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and his smile was passing and perfunctory, not touching any other part of his face.

"You want me to look at anything?" Sam asked. "I'll trust that you're fine if you say you're fine. Keep in mind, though." He rolled the hand not holding the whiskey glass, and took a drink. It burned behind his teeth. "Pararescue," he said hoarsely.

"Ah, right. That's your damage, isn't it?" Zemo said. Before Sam could respond to that, Zemo sat on the arm of the couch and pulled the robe down from his shoulder. "I was wondering about this," he said brightly.

Sam knew exactly what was looking at. Electrodes left that kind of burn, and the resulting spasms that kind of bruise, rising to the pale surface.. The spasms could sometimes be hard enough to break bone.

"Mind if I touch it?" he said neutrally.

Zemo simply raised his chin in response. Sam explored with his fingertips, found no worse damage than what showed on the surface, aside from a slight heat that hinted at deeper bruising to come.

"It's not that bad," Sam said. "Put a little heat on it, might help it feel better in the morning." As Zemo twitched up the arm of the robe, Sam added, "We should've gotten you out earlier."

"You're not my keepers."

"No, we kinda are, actually." Bucky's voice was casual, but he was sitting up now. "At least according to the UN and Wakanda."

Zemo said something in what Sam assumed was Sokovian, guttural and soft and fluidly beautiful.

"Sorry, didn't understand that," Sam said.

Zemo looked a little surprised. "I'm sorry, that wasn't English, was it? A passing comment on brothers' keepers, that was all. Not worth repeating."

Sam got up and got the whiskey decanter, and also the cheese plate. He could still smell that barbecue aftertaste of the HYDRA compound, overlaid with all the blood on Zemo as they'd hustled him out of there. And behind that was the memory of finding Riley, years ago—or what was left of him, when they got to him. Different worlds, he thought, different war, but it didn't feel all that different, sometimes. He cracked open the jar of olives and laid the whole thing out on the coffee table.

"We've got like a hundred channels here," he said. "There's gotta be something on other than old cartoons."

"Hey," Bucky protested. He'd switched to the Flintstones. "I haven't seen these."

But it was a token protest. Sam took away the remote and skimmed quickly across the news, a romcom, and some sort of action movie with explosions and car chases, and settled on a cooking show. People making cakes and laughing, dumb escape kind of stuff.

No one objected. Instead, Zemo sat with his back against the couch where Bucky was lying. Bucky drowsed, and even Zemo was half asleep from the look of things, eyes fixed on the television and fingers playing across his mostly-undrunk second glass of whiskey. And after a while, Sam built himself a stack of cheese and sausage and crackers, and even had the appetite to eat it.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #sam wilson #helmut zemo

32 notes · View notes

zamoimagines · 3 years

Text

There’s Your Trouble

Word Count: 3,529

Pairings: Billie Dean Howard x Reader, Sally McKenna x Reader

Chapters: 1, 2

Summary: You and your girlfriend, Billie Dean Howard, are staying at the Cortez for the weekend but you meet a pretty ghost.

A/N: Chapter two is finally here! Hope you guys enjoy :)

The rest of your night wasn’t what Billie had promised. You remember telling her how excited you were to spend time with her at a hotel because it meant you both could maybe have a little alone time. She was constantly working on her show, or traveling, or doing interviews, or signing autographs on the street. This was a chance for the two of you to actually spend some quality time together.

How wrong that assumption was. The rest of the day was spent interviewing different residents who obviously didn’t want to be filmed, and some of them even looked as if they were the ghosts themselves. Billie was so focused on learning the history of the building and asking the owners about James Patrick March. She cared more about her crew than anything you had to say. Any time you would try to speak, someone would cut you off and Billie would completely ignore that you had said anything at all. You were an afterthought to say the least. It had been this way long before you’d arrived with her at the Hotel Cortez. This seemed to be a pattern that never ended.

Night fell rather quickly. You didn’t realize that it was dark out until you glanced out one of the windows of your room. Billie was still going on about all that needed to be filmed before Devil’s Night to her worker bees.

“Uh.. Billie?” you tried to interject.

“I’m thinking we can get a couple shots of the front for dramatic effect? I talked to Liz as well, she said we could see the basement if we really wanted to.”

“Billie-”

“Oh! And what if we got a scene in front of that creepy empty pool?”

“Billie, can I please talk to you for a second?”

The blonde finally turned in your direction. She gave you a wild smile.

“Yeah! Sorry, honey. What is it?”

“Are we gonna go to the bar and get some alone time? I figured tonight would be perfect since we just got here.”

“Of course!” she replied happily. The sound of that brightened your world.

“I’ve just got to get a few shots first.” Your heart sank in your chest.

“Oh… okay.”

“Honey, I promise we’ll go on a date when we get the footage we need.” Billie pressed a small kiss to your forehead. “Do you want to come with us? You could see all of the chilling content first hand!”

“I-I’m okay. I think I’m gonna wait here until you get back.”

“Are you sure, baby?”

“Yeah, I gotta unpack anyway.”

“I’ll film as fast as I can. It won’t be too long, right guys?” Billie looked to her crew for reassurance, though all they did was glared coldly back at you. They barely knew you and couldn’t give less of a shit about your romantic endeavors. She stood up while grabbing her mic before leading everyone out of the room.

“Why don’t we just go out tomorrow night?” you offered.

“It won’t be too late, Y/N, I promise-”

“I’m just tired. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Okay, then. I’ll try not to stay out too late. I’ll see you later, sweetheart!”

“Bye, Billie.”

Alone. Yet again. Your own girlfriend cared so much more about her damn TV show than about spending the evening with you. It stung quite a bit, though you wouldn’t dare to ever let her know. She worked hard to get where she was. You just wished she would care about more important things sometimes.

Instead of wallowing, you figured you would change into something more comfortable. You changed out of your travel outfit and immediately ditched your bra before slipping on some shorts along with a big t-shirt over your head. A sigh of relief escaped you. Folding your old clothes, you began to unpack your bag and put your belongings into the drawers of the dresser. You switched on the tv just to have a little background noise as you finished putting everything away. The only thing left was your makeup bag and a small carrier full of hygienic products. Taking the last two bags, you sauntered into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.

As you started to brush your teeth, your mind wandered aimlessly about Billie. You only agreed to come because she told you that she had so many things planned for you. Every business trip turned out to be all about your girlfriend and she’d always happened to just forget about every promise she made to you. This one was only proving to be the exact same. How could a damn TV show be more important than your own relationship? You didn’t understand her thought process whatsoever.

You finished up before making your way back to the bed. Though, there was something off about the room. Something felt incredibly eerie but you couldn’t quite place what it was. Perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you. After all, you were spending your week in a haunted hotel, so it was probably normal to feel a little creeped out by your surroundings.

Just as you sat down on the bed, you heard a soft humming sound. Your head quickly turned in the direction of the bathroom door. Was someone in your room?

“My, my… You’re even prettier than I remember, Princess.” a familiar voice spoke. You nearly jumped out of your spot as you let out a gasp.

There standing in front of the doorway was the woman you’d met from earlier. The one in the elevator. You thought you’d locked the door but perhaps you actually had forgotten to and it slipped your mind. She was still as gorgeous as ever, only now she was just dressed in a simple black nightgown. Her fingers were laced around two glasses and a bottle of some brown liquor was in her other hand. You noticed large rips in her fishnets as she made her way closer to you.

“H-How long have you been standing there?”

She shrugged as she inhaled the lit cigarette hanging out of her mouth, “Just a minute or two. The walls are paper thin here, though, so I heard your little conversation with the girlfriend.” She paused to take a longer drag. As she exhaled smoke, she raised a brow.

“Saw her leave too. She seems a little… Prissy.” Sally added in a disgusted tone.

“Billie isn’t prissy. She’s just well-rounded!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She plopped down next to you on the mattress with a sly grin on her face, her cigarette draping smoke all around your body as she nestled in closer.

“Just because she’s high maintenance doesn’t mean that she’s a bad person.”

Sally handed you one of the glasses before popping open the bottle. Pouring some alcohol into your cup, she chuckled in disbelief.

“I’m not sure I believe that. The bitch is more infatuated with her camera than her own girl.”

Those words definitely stung. You stared blankly down at your drink as you tried hard not to think about it too much as water pricked your eyes. Sally poured her own glass then glanced back up at you.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a debbie downer or anything. I just think it’s fucked up that she’d just leave you here.”

“She’s… She’s just very professional. She takes a lot of pride in her work.” You tried to explain, “Besides, she said we could go on a better date tomorrow.”

She raised a brow. “A bit too professional, don’t you think? How could she pass up a night with a gorgeous girl like you?”

There was a thick silence that hung in the room.Your vision grew fuzzy as more tears welled up in your eyes, though you were quick to wipe them away to appear like you had everything together. “Oh, my poor baby girl.” Sally cooed as her index finger lifted your chin. You could see that her own eyes were watering but you weren’t entirely sure what for. She offered you a soft grin that caused the skin on your cheeks to flush; it had been so long since you’d received this sort of affection from anyone. “Why don’t we have a drink, hm?”

You looked down at the glass skeptically. Was this a trap or something?

“I’m not sure I should-”

“Oh come on, you were gonna go to the bar earlier anyway. What’s one little glass going to do?”

She was right. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do with your night. Rather than waiting for her to pour you a glass, you simply took the bottle from her and screwed off the cap. Your lips pressed against the mouth as you quickly took a huge swig.

“Straight to it.” Sally chuckled as she grabbed the liquor back from you, “What a good girl you are.”

Your whole body felt warm. So warm that you couldn’t notice that damned blush on your face was becoming more apparent. It was probably just the effects of the alcohol and not the fact that her remark had been incredibly smooth.

Nearly two hours had passed in which you both kept passing the bottle back and forth. Each swig from the bottle made you significantly more inebriated as you both talked about everything under the sun. You told Sally about your life, and in return she told you more about herself. You’d learned that she used to be a musician, that she had been dealing with a drug addiction for decades, and that she lived here at the hotel. She even made you crack a smile or two.

There was so much alcohol in your system now that you were completely relaxed. It was as if Sally took every problem you ever had and melted it away with simple conversation. You had to admit, no one had ever made you feel this way before. Not even your own girlfriend.

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked, your words slightly slurred.

“Only if I can ask you one in return.” Sally replied with a sly grin.

“That sounds like a fair trade.” “Then go right ahead, gorgeous.”

You took a deep breath as you tried to summon the right words. It might’ve been stupid, but you had a sneaking suspicion that there was something paranormal about this woman. You could’ve sworn you felt something deep in your gut telling you that it was true. The worst that could possibly happen was that she’d think you were crazy. “I’ve noticed that you’re rather unique.” You gulped, “This might sound stupid to ask, but uh, are… a-are you a-” Before you could finish your sentence, she cut you off completely. “Are you asking if I’m a ghost?” Your brows furrowed as your eyes widened slightly out of shock. It was as if she had taken the words right out of your mouth. The blonde chuckled to herself when she saw your reaction, then inhaled more smoke from her sixth cig of the night. “Yeah. I’m a ghost. Been dead for fucking years now.” She paused briefly, a fire in her eyes now. “Does that scare you?” So it was confirmed. Sally wasn’t alive… If you were honest, you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d seen enough of Billie’s work to know all of the signs but you didn’t figure you’d be the one that would have a run in with the dead. Shaking your head, you could feel yourself growing dizzy from this new information. You weren’t about to act like a wuss in front of her now. “Not at all.” You muttered maybe a little too quickly. Sally raised a brow at your response. “Do you believe me?” You shrugged. “I mean, you practically walked through the wall when I wasn’t looking. And you took me for a spin in the elevator earlier, which was a little eerie.” “So is that a yes?” “Yes… I believe you.” Sally looked rather pleased with you as she took back the bottle. “Good… You’re not a skeptic.” She took a swig and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I fucking hate skeptics.”

You simply just nodded along as you listened to her. If you were honest with yourself, you were still on the fence as if you actually believed her or if it was the alcohol getting to your head. You had been overthinking the matter so much that you had barely missed the other women speaking directly to you. “Shit- Sorry. What did you say?” You asked.

“I said it’s my turn.”

“For what?”

“To ask you a question.” A mischievous grin appeared on her pretty pale lips.

You gulped. It was just a question, and surely what she had to say wasn’t too terrible.

“R-Right. Go right ahead, ask away.”

Sally paused for a moment to fully pivot her body in your direction. She leaned forward a bit before asking,

“Why do you stay with a woman who doesn’t give you the time or day?”

A much more loaded question than you were expecting. Instead of responding, you simply took the bottle from her lap and took a very long swig to avoid saying anything whatsoever. The blonde chuckled to herself as she watched you chug the liquor down. “We had a deal, Princess.” She sang out. There had definitely been a deal, and you needed to hold up your end of the bargain.

“Billie does care about me. I promise… She’s just really busy.” You set the bottle back down before continuing, “She’s been waiting for months to get coverage on this place. There’s a reason she’s so preoccupied.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is.” Sally scoffed. “I don’t mind, though. I’m just very happy that you like blondes.” She gave you a wink as she ashed her cigarette into the glass bottle.

You were at a loss for words. No matter what you said, your new acquaintance never believed a word that you said despite explaining yourself over and over again. In a way, you felt completely defeated. You were defending a cause with not a lot of evidence to back you up. Sally could tell you were getting upset, for she got even closer and let out a whine of sympathy.

“Awe, don’t pout. Here, I’ll make a bet with you.” She began, “If this Billie chick comes in here tonight and fucks you when she sees you in this number, then I’ll keep my distance and respect your relationship. But if she goes straight to bed?” She paused for a moment to discard her cigarette completely, “You have to come by my room and let me show you how pretty you are.”

The immediate flush upon your cheeks was enough for Sally to chuckle darkly to herself. You were sure you had never blushed this hard in your life. You couldn’t remember how long it had been since someone had flirted with you like this, let alone your own girlfriend.

“U-Uh- I’m not so sure about that-” You stammered.

“Let me put it this way; When will you ever get to tell someone that you got to make a bet with a ghost?”

She had a fair point. Surely the drinks weren’t helping you to make any logical decisions. Your head felt like it was spinning as the words fell out of your mouth,

“Fine. Sure, why not.” You were sure that the blonde was just bluffing, what harm was one little bet going to do?

But oh how you would regret ever saying a damn words.

“Good.” The next moment, Sally’s face was only an inch away from your own and those deep brown eyes were staring directly into yours.

“How about you let me give you a sneak peek?” She whispered.

Your breath caught in your throat. Her stare put you into a trance, though you did your best to stay grounded. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Mm, it’s only a kiss.” Her fingers reached out and danced upon your shoulder, “Maybe two.”

Before you knew it, you were paralyzed under her touch. Your eyes shut tight as if to try and wake yourself from some sort of dream, but as you did so, something hot pressed to the side of your neck. Her soft lips brushed against your skin, your heart beginning to beat rapidly in your chest. Her hand traveled up to caress your cheek and her forehead rested upon yours as you slowly opened your eyes. There was no denying there was a heated passion building inside you.

“Come on, Princess. Let me taste those pretty lips of yours.” Her voice was so dark and inviting. You couldn’t help but swoon into her touch.

“Sally…” You tried to protest, but you were finding it hard to resist. Your vision grew hazy the moment she captured your mouth into a tender kiss.

You felt as if you should’ve been beating yourself up for not stopping her, but you craved the amount of affection she was offering you. After the first, she kissed you again with much more confidence. Her tongue slid against your bottom lip as if to beg for entrance. Your mouth opened with ease as she eagerly deepened the contact between you both, slowly but full of lust. A low groan escaped her which in turn caused you to whimper against her. You could tell how bad she wanted you, but more importantly, you were starting to realize how badly you wanted Sally.

You pulled away briefly to catch your breath though you managed to stay close. The other woman let out a soft laugh before practically moaning, “I could eat you up.” She bit her lower lip as her gaze studied your mouth and back up to your eyes.

“I can’t imagine what your pussy tastes like.”

“Sally- jesus.” You hissed.

Thankfully, she rose from where she had been sitting before picking up the bottle of liquor and the two glasses she had originally come in with. Her hip was cocked out to the side as she watched your every move.

“You just wait,” She said as she pointed toward you, “You’re gonna lose.”

“I will not!” You rebutted.

“We’ll see about that.”

You moved to protest her words, but in the blink of an eye, she had completely vanished. The room had seemed to change as well for everything seemed much darker than a moment ago. The window revealed a black sky full of stars. How much time had passed?

The faint sound of clicking heels echoed down the corridor outside your door. Billie.

At least she was finished filming so you could forget this night had ever happened. You made sure to freshen up your hair and get into a position that looked inviting for your girlfriend to walk into, for you were sure you wouldn’t lose your end of the bet. Billie loved you, and that was a fact. She wouldn’t deny the chance to spend a sensual evening with you.

The door swung open. In the doorway was Billie Dean, her posture slightly slouched as she flashed a winning, yet sleepy smile to you.

“Hey, Honey. How was your night?” She asked, her voice groggy as ever.

“It was fine.” You replied immediately. Your head was still woozy from all of the alcohol. “I missed you, though.”

Billie plopped down on the opposite end of the bed as she kicked off her heels. She shimmied out of her skirt, then worked at the buttons of her blouse to reveal her silk slip. You did your best to appear sexy but it was proving to be difficult when she wasn’t even paying attention to you.

“I missed you too. I’m so exhausted, we spent hours wandering this place and didn’t find a damn thing.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. We’ll try again in the morning.” Once she was situated for bedtime, Billie got under the covers next to you. She leaned over to press a soft peck to your cheek before turning around to turn off the lamp beside her.

“Goodnight.”

“Wait, don’t you want to spend some time together?”

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so tired. Why don’t we grab breakfast in the morning? I promise I’ll make it up to you after I’ve had plenty of sleep.”

“But-”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She turned completely away from you and didn’t notice a damn thing. Not what you were wearing, or what you looked like, or how she had made you feel so lonely. Instead of fighting her on the matter, you sighed sadly to yourself.

“Goodnight, Billie.”

You turned off your own lamp before curling up under the blankets and faced where Billie’s back had turned. Tears stung your eyes once again, though you managed to stay completely silent to try and drift to sleep. You were nearly asleep when you felt a familiar sensation upon your neck; hot breathing and a soft pair of lips. A warm kiss was placed upon you as you heard Sally’s voice faintly whisper in your ear,

“I win.”

#sally mckenna x reader #billie dean howard x reader #ahs #ahs imagine

103 notes · View notes

birdsandspades · 4 years

Text

One Night Stand? (A Bakugou Oneshot)

-You were suppose to meet a coworker for drinks after work, but they never show. This is Bakugou's lucky chance to finally bring you home, if he can get Kirishima to shut up. Maybe he will have something up his sleeve, or perhaps under his shirt?

Teased smut, nothing too dirty.

Word Count - 3,777

- I‘m iffy on this entire story, but i’ve had it saved for awhile and I figured I would write it. Let me know what you think!

----

You rolled over, the sun shuttering across your face as you opened your eyes. You adjusted to the light, the room coming into focus around you. It was clean, minimal, nothing like your own.

The sheets were soft on your exposed skin, silk grey, expensive. You turned over, looking at the unmade side next you, it was still warm to the touch.

The room smelled like carmel, the sheets soaked in the scent as you buried your face in the fabric. It filled your senses, warm and inviting.

A few cupboards closed from the other room turning your attention to the slightly open bedroom door.

“Mmm, he’s already awake.” You hummed, looked at the clock on the wall. It was only 9:00 a.m. Early for a Saturday morning.

You lifted off the covers, stepping onto the warm floor. “He even has heated floors, how fancy.” You giggled, looking around for your clothing. You found your underwear, thrown on the dresser across the room, the rest of your clothing lost in the pile still scattered on the floor. You picked something out, a black shirt, definitely not yours.

You slipped it on, the hem covering just enough to be called modest.

The smell of breakfast filled the room, the sizzle of something cooking in the kitchen. You opened the door, making your way down the hallway. It looked different in the morning light, the pictures hung on the walls now viable.

You were sore, hand on the wall guiding you out to the kitchen. A consequence of last night.

You peaked a head around the corner, his exposed back to you as he stood at the stove.

“You're up early.” You smiled, walking over. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your cheek against his warm skin.

“Good morning, I didn’t expect to see you standing after last night.” He chuckled looking down at you.

----

You had been sitting at the bar for a little over an hour, slowly sipping at your drink as you watched the bartender run back and forth making drinks.

You slid up your sleeve to read your watch, 9:37 p.m. “How long is he going to take?” You groaned, leaning against the bar counter.

You had agreed to drinks with a coworker after work, something you usually would have protested. But it was now the weekend, and your case had been especially gruelling. Wrapping it up had been the best part of your week, scratch that month. Your new partner asking you out for drinks to celebrate had been the cherry on the top, but work had since ended and he was nowhere to be found.

You tipped your glass, draining the last of the liquor that pooled around the melting ice. The bartender made eye contact with you from the other end of the bar, shaking the empty glass in his hand and pointing to yours. You declined, flashing him a folded bill.

He printed the check and slipped it into a booklet, dropping it off in front of you before he greeted another customer. “Thank you!” You shouted over the music, wiggling the book before sticking the money inside. You closed the check book, sliding it back over to his side of the counter.

“L/N?”

You turned around, a smile pulling at your flushed cheeks. “Katsuki Bakugou, what are you doing here?”

“I just got off work, Kirishima forced me to come out.” He moved closer, a hand resting on the bar as he moved out of the way of a group pushing past. “What are you doing here? I thought they had put you on that neon district case up north?” He leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear as he squished you against the bartop.

“They did, we wrapped it up a few days ago. I just got back yesterday.” You rested a hand on his bicep as he glared behind him at the pushy people. The back of your neck growing red at the closing space between you two.

“With Shinsou right? I heard he had moved to your agency after Aizawa retired.” He waved down the bartender, slipping in between you and a random man at the bar. He pointed to the menu on the wall raising two fingers as the man nodded.

“Yeah, he was actually supposed to meet me here for drinks awhile ago...” You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, checking for any new messages. “I don’t think he’s gonna show up.” You turned off the blank screen, giving Bakugou a small smile.

“Well if you're sticking around I think Kirishima rented a booth. Your welcome to join us, dunce face flaked on us for a date night with his girlfriend.” Bakugou traded the bartender a bill for the drinks, waving for him to keep the change. “We're over on the other side of all this shit.” He motioned towards the dance floor, nodding for you to follow.

“Wait Bakugou…” You looked around the busy club, people flooding in through the front doors. It was after all a Friday night, the perfect time to visit the district's most popular dancing spot. He gave you a smirk, pushing into the crowd that was gathering around the bar.

“Why not.” You pushed your chair away from the bar table, turning to step into the crowd. You followed close behind him, or at least tried too. The dance floor thick with sweaty bodies as you slid through. You had seen the blonde tuft of hair only seconds ago, but it had been replaced with the glare of flashing lights as a new song picked up. The crowd pushed in, squishing you between two groups of dancing girls.

“Hey, fucking keep up!” Bakugou grabbed your hand, yanking you out of the mass of people. In the other were the two drinks he had bought, perfectly balanced in his large hands. “Your too short to be fucking around in the crowd idiot.” He smiled down at you, tugging you along behind him.

“Sorry…” You blushed, his hand warm around yours. It had been years since you last saw Bakugou, years since you were in UA together. But he still managed to make your head fuzzy with that confidence, the alcohol wasn’t helping the situation either.

He pulled you behind him to the private booths, escorting you through the gathered groups of people. Kirishima’s eyes landed on his friend, traveling down to his hand tightly enclosed around yours. He waved you both over, scooting out of the round booth.

“L/N!” Kirishima stood up from his seat, walking over to you with open arms as you walked behind Bakugou. He let go of your hand, walking over to set the drinks down on the table.

“Hi Kiri, how are you?” You wrapped your arms around him the best you could, the man had bulked up over the years.

“Good, married!” He flashed you the ring, his toothy smile bright as ever.

Bakugou put a hand on your shoulders, guiding you over to the booth. “Let's sit down at least, I'm tired of people rubbing up against my ass.” He complained in your ear, pushing you to sit down.

You slid into the seat, Bakugou moving in beside you.

“Do you guys want something to drink?” Kirishima yelled, walking away from the boothed section.

“Shitty hair I got you a fucking...nevermind.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, sliding the drink over to you. “Well I hope you like highballs.” He chuckled, taking a drink from his glass.

“It’s been what two years since I last saw you, what have you been up too?” You tried your best to shout over the music, the bass deafening.

“I can’t fucking hear you, come here.” He looped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The friction of his jeans on your exposed skin left goosebumps on your leg, his skin hot under the dark denim.

“I said, what have you been doing these last two year!” Your lips brushed his cheek, breath tickling his ear as you spoke.

“I’ve been bouncing around agencies, they have me training idiot sidekicks for some fucking reason.” He playfully groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t believe it’s been four years, since we graduated. I feel like we were in the dorms at UA just the other day.” You took a sip of your drink, whisky strong on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m glad, i’ve had way more fun outside of that fucking school.” He turned his head, Kirishima walking up the stairs with a bottle of sake. Kirishima waved the bottle at the blonde, empty glasses clutched in his other hand.

“I’m sure a top tier hero like yourself gets plenty of action.” You teased, sliding over as Kirishima moved in beside Bakugou.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smirked, his teasing tone making your breath hitch.

Your cheeks heated up at the comment, eyes averting to your half full drink. You had never been brave enough to flirt with Bakugou, not even in school. He was intimidating, something you just didn’t do well with. But the liquid courage that burned in your chest was giving you the confidence to at least try.

“L/N?” Kirishima tilted his head, shot in his hand.

“Oh sorry...” You took the drink with two hands, thanking him as you set it on the table.

“How have you been? Last time I saw you was at Shotou’s agency last year.” Kirishima slid in on the other side of the booth, Bakugou pouring a shot beside you.

“Oh yeah, for that stupid ranking meeting. They called it after Ryukyu retired to discuss the popularity jumps we all had.” You took your shot with Bakugou, nose wrinkling at the taste.

Bakugou chuckled beside you, his arm resting behind you as he leaned back in the seat. “You got a pretty good boost from all the pro’s retiring last year.

“Yeah I got pushed up to number 15, they moved me to a new district after that.” You took a sip of your highball in an attempt to clean the taste from your mouth. “Your one to talk Ground Zero, number one hero after Deku moved to America.” You smirked up at the blonde, his red eyes narrowing.

Kirishima poured the both of you another shot of sake, “ She has you on that Bakugou.” laughing as he pushed the glasses back over to you two.

“Yeah I supposed she does.” Bakugou raised his eyebrow, an amused smile creeping over his face.

You drank with the two as the night continued on, the bottle emptying as you caught up with your old classmates.

“Wait a minute, so you're saying Bakugou had a fanclub in school?” Kirishima laughed, his face flushed. He had drank a majority of the bottle, the evidence clear from his intoxicated state.

“Yeah! A ton of girls had crushes on him. Shit even I liked you.” You chuckled, placing a hand on Bakugou’s arm. You felt the muscles tense, his heated gaze on you.

“No fucking way, Bakugou liked you in school too! He just wouldn't say anything because he thought you were scared of him!” Kirishima threw an arm over your shoulder, winking at his no longer buzzed friend across the table.

You looked at the man next to you, visibly flustered by his friend's comment. “Wait, I thought you hated me.” You giggled, pointing to yourself.

“No way, he used to bother me to move the patrols by your office so he could check up on you. He was always asking everyone about you at meetings too. Bakugou has been in love with you since first year!” Kirishima was holding his side, the look on his friend's face only making him laugh hard.

“Kirishima…” Bakugou reached across the table to grab his friend, fingers barely grazing his button up.

“Wait a minute, let me catch up here. So you're telling me you liked me the entire time I liked you, and I never knew?” You looked between the men, eyes stopping on Bakugou. He looked absolutely embarrassed, like his deepest darkest secret had just been told to the world.

Yes it was true, he had a massive crush on you. Yes, he did frequently check up on you. And maybe he had some glimmer of hope that he would be able to tell you tonight when he saw you at the bar all alone. But that wasn’t going to happen now that shitty hair was word vomiting every single thing Bakugou had ever told him.

“You two should go on a date! He always turns down anyone that asks him.” Kirishima leaned in, whispering to you. “I think it’s because he wanted to ask you out but he was scared you thought he was mean.”

“Ok, I think that's enough drinking! Let’s call it a night dumbass.” Bakugou slid out of the seat, ripping his friend out of the booth. You stumbled out of the seat, running behind them as they pushed through the dance floor.

You followed the bickering pair, the fresh air cold on your skin as you exited the club. Bakugou waved a hand, stopping a taxi outside the doors. “Get inside before I leave you out here for the night…” He helped his friend inside, pulling the seat belt over the wiggling redhead.

“Y/N…!” Kirishima tried to push past Bakugou, his head darting around the blonde's shoulders as he fought to close the door. The rest of his sentence was incomprehensible behind the closed door.

Bakugou leaned into the open passenger window, “Yeah, just take him straight home. You can keep the rest.” He handed the man a few bills, glaring at the beaming Kirishima as the taxi drove off down the busy road.

“Well that was a fun night.” You smiled, looking up at the irritated man.

He gave you a sarcastic chuckled, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, fun.” He let out a loud sigh, looking around. “I don’t suppose you would want to go on that date now that you know about...everything?”

“It would be hard to say no with a confession like that.” You giggled, Bakugou relaxing at the confirmation.

“But...maybe you would want to take me home first?” You smirked, his eyes widening.

He returned the look, eyes darkening. A woman after his heart, confidant and you knew what you wanted. “ I guess I have made you wait long enough.” He chuckled, his hand wrapping around your arm as he pulled you along down the sidewalk.

That's how you ended up pressed against Bakugou’s apartment door, heated lips heavy on your own.

He fumbled with the lock while pressing hot kisses down your neck, his other hand digging into your waist.

“Just fucking open the door Katsuki.” You moaned, grabbing a fist full of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

“I would be able to if your big ass got out of the way.” He spun you around before pressing you back into the cold wood.

You gasped at the force, his lock clicking open as he pressed sloppy kisses down your shoulder. He pushed the door open into the dark apartment, chest pressing into your back as he moved the two of you inside.

He threw his keys on the table, spinning you around.

“Nice place.” You smiled, kicking off your shoes.

“Thank you, i’ll show you around later.” He grabbed the exposed skin under your ass to pick you up. Your legs wrapping around his waist as he slipped off his shoes. He pressed his lips back against yours, walking you through the hallways as he kicked open the bedroom door. He sat down on the edge of the bed, nipping down your jaw as he pushed you down on his growing bulge.

You moaned at the contact, hands moving down the hem of his shirt. You gave it a tug, leaning back as you tried to take it off him.

Bakugou untangled his hands from behind you, lifting them over his head as you pulled it up and over. You trailed a hand over his bare chest, fingers following the deep lines as you trailed down to his waist band. You roamed over the exposed skin, eyes stopping on his left peck. The shine of something metallic caught your eye, glistening in the light of the open window. Your brows knitted together as you stared at the metal ring.

“What is that face for brat?” Bakugou scowled, pulling at your own shirt.

You raised your arms over your head, eyes still on his chest as he pulled it off your head. “Katsuki is that a nipple ring?”

“What if it is?” Bakugou wasted no time attaching himself to the sensitive skin on your neck.

“I just didn’t think Bakugou Katsuki would be the type of guy to get a nipple piercing.” You shifted in his hold, chewing at your lips as he placed wet kisses over your chest.

You tried to push the thought from your head, submerging yourself in the feeling of the man wrapped around you. But the warm metal grazing over your skin was making that impossible. The more you thought about it, the funnier it became. Giggles bubbling up, escaping between soft moans as he grinded into you.

Someone had to have convinced Bakugou to get the thing. It was something he would have never picked out on his own. Maybe a dare, or a drunken decision. “Did Kiri convince you to get it?”

Bakugou pulled away, crimson creeping across his face as he turned away. He remembered you being nicer in school, but you were relentless with your teasing.

“I’m not even hard anymore, so fuck off.” He slid a hand under your thigh. With one move he flipped you off of him, throwing you to the side of the bed as he stood up to walk out of the room. He stomped his way out the door and down the hallways, lights turning on behind him as he made way for the kitchen.

You were close to tears, holding your sides as you buried your face in the sheets. Soft giggles turning to boisterous laughs as you held your sides. That was explanation enough. You rolled off the bed, wiping the threatening tears as you stood up.

“Wait, Katsuki! I’m still horny, even with that nipple thing!” You made your way out of the bedroom, trying to stifle your giggles.

“Fuck off shitty woman!” He yelled from the other room.

“I’m sorry, you can make fun of my All Might underwear.” You walked into the kitchen, no sight of the disgruntled man.

A hand dug into your waist, spinning you around. You were shoved into the kitchen island, lips hot on your ear. “ I would be careful what you say next, or you may not be able to speak tomorrow, let alone walk.” He nipped at your jaw, moaning as he pressed into you.

----

Bakugou turned around in your arms, leaning down to pick you up. He set you on the kitchen island, pressing his lips softly against yours.

You smiled into the kiss, reaching up to pull him closer.

He inched away chuckling. “I’ll burn breakfast if you distract me.” He scolded, walking back to the stove. You peaked over his shoulder, watching as he flipped the half cooked pancakes in the pan.

He checked everything cooking before walking back over to you, a smirk pulling at his soft features. He took your chin between his thumb and finger, tilting your head back and forth. “Wow, I really did a number on you.”

You blushes, pushes his hand away. “I could say that same thing.” You touched the now bruised love bites on his chest. Leaning down you pressed light kisses to each one, looking up at the smiling blonde. You gave him a playful bite, his hand pushing your head away.

“Oww asshole.” He laughed, rubbing his chest.

“Couldn’t help it, I like shiny things.” You teased as he walked over to the cabinet. He pulled out two plates, setting them down on the counter.

“Are you planning on making fun of this thing every time you see it.” He rolled his eyes, taking the bacon out of the oven.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.” You smiled, hopping off the island.

“Go sit down, i’ll bring it to you.” He smiled over his shoulder, turning off the stove.

You took a seat at the dining room table, looking around the spacious apartment. It was open, bright. Everything had a place, and it was perfectly positioned in it. The walls and open shelves were lined with photos, him with family, him with friends, him with fans.

Bakugou set a plate down in front of you, pulling out his seat next to you. “What's that look for?” He smiled, looking around the apartment.

“That's us, I don’t even remember taking that photo.” You pointed to a smaller photo on his bookshelf, positioned right in the middle of everything.

It was a photo of the two of you on the last day of school, the only day you two had talked to each other during school. Bakugou had been in front of you at the graduation ceremony, the two of you waiting to be called up. He had turned around half way through the ceremony to make a funny joke about Aizawa’s pink pants, it made you laugh.

“Oh yeah. My mom took that. She said she had never seen me smile around a girl or some stupid shit like that. I just like having it…” He shrugged, cutting his pancake.

“I was surprised when you turned around to talk to me that day. I had never talked to you alone before then.” You smiled, he kept a photo of you. You wouldn’t tell him now, but you had a newspaper clipping of the two of you together at the sports festival during your first year.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you out before we graduated. I got nervous when you smiled at me, so I said something stupid about those dumb pants Aizawa had on.” He looked up at you, chewing on his lip. “You left before I could talk to you after graduation was over.”

“Well do you want to go out now? I don’t plan on going anywhere this time.” You took a bite of your bacon, looking up at him.

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “I think we're past that now dumbass. Eat your food, I promised you a tour.”

230 notes · View notes

just-whatever-ig · 3 years

Text

A comfortable Clone Commanders pile

Dedicated to: TyraCapulet

I was asked to write clone pile things. And I wrote this.

Rex knocked on the door of Fox's office. He had not been there often in his life, the dry and quiet hallways of the senate made him uneasy, his hands drawn to his hips like magnets.

There was laughter behind the door and a strained sound of someone before the door opened and he got greeted with Ponds’ gruff but giggly face. "Rexyyy", he grinned and slumped against the doorway, his breath carried the distinct smell of strong alcohol. "Are you guys getting dunked in there without me?", Rex raised an eyebrow and pushed past Ponds to find his brothers, Cody, Fox, Thorn and Colt - much to his surprise - huddled together on the floor. Most of them had already disposed of their upper armor.

"Reeeex", Fox called, almost throwing a small bottle at him that definitely contained said strong alcohol. Cody grinned, cheeks pink from drinking while Colt still seemed pretty cooled in his place behind Thorn's back. They all somehow already managed to lay on each other with nobody being the lowest. Impresive with only 4 people.

"Mind if I join?", Rex grinned happily as Ponds already helped him take off his armor. It would only get in the way uncomfortably. "Please", Thorn slurred and grabbed the bottle from Fox's hand to take a swig. He pulled a face and passed it on to Cody who screwed the lid back on. "What's the Rancor Commander doing here?", Rex pushed aside their legs to make space for himself and add himself into the pile.

"You know, vacation is a thing", Colt replied with a self-indulgent smirk. "You lucky fucker", Thorn commented with a snort. Rex snaked himself under Cody's legs with his head on Fox's soft belly - a clear sign for the lack of training his fellow brother got around here, forging the chancellor's signature instead of fighting. "Here, Rex'ika", Fox pushed the bottle into Rex's chest and he took his time to look at the tagless bottle. "What even is that?" - "Some super cheap backyard slobbery, it's awful", Ponds explained and pushed himself up to Cody's flank and probably back into his arms judging by the way Cody awaited him.

"Hey, Thorn", Fox uncoordinatedly slapped his brother in guards against the biceps, "When was this ambassador gathering again?" - "The one with La Pee Tou?" - "Yeah." - "Like... noon-ish?" - "Ah. Alright."

"Don't mind if I ask, who's La Pee Tou?", Rex questioned as he unscrewed the bottle and took a sup without even smelling, there was no use, his receptors had been burned to the ground by the last tear gas ambush on Polonio I. The liquor felt like he was swallowing down a rotgut made with gunship fuel. It burned his throat like fire and caused him to clear his throat a few times.

"Tou is an ambassador from the far outside worlds, even beyond the outer rim. They're interested in trading, or something", Fox explained and passed the bottle on to Colt who took a big swig before Ponds reached for it. "Fifth sector worlds? They do realize we're in war, right?", Cody snickered. "The shab do I know?", Fox threw up his hands and snatched the bottle from Ponds waiting hands to have another swig.

"Hehe", Thorn laughed lightly, "You won't believe what happened the other day." - "What?", Rex accepted the bottle once again. "This man, yeah, this man of a chancellor...", his voice was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Fox burst out laughing. "Oh, riiight, I totally forgot 'bout that." - "Sometimes I think this man just wants to die. Like that one suicidal senator we had, you remember?" - "Lord Oberon?" - "Yeah. But like three times worse."

"Why? What did he do?", Cody chuckled. "You know, he's the chancellor, which means he gets a lot of death threats, most of them are just harmless little jabs but there was this one message that everyone of us said should be taken seriously because we don't want to take any chances. We tell him that, say that he should stay in his damn penthouse until we have clearance and all." Fox's laugh had almost become hysterical at that point, his stomach pushing up against Rex's head like a jackhammer. "What does this bloody idiot do - I'm still not over this stupidity", Thorn rubbed his face, "He legitimately dresses up as one of his body guards and sneaks out of the senate like a stupid little bitch." - "I love how he literally thought we wouldn't notice", Fox laughed, "Like, homie, what did you expect? Your bodyguards are like 5 miles taller than us. Don't you think we notice when they magically shrink?!"

"Did you call him out?", Colt asked. "Nah", Thorn snickered, "We want him to believe that we didn't notice." - "I want to know how often he's going to pull that off", Fox added, smirking into the neck of the bottle.

"Quick check-in, who's still bound to show up?" - "Nobody", Colt waved off, "You were the last." - "Oh yeah? Where's Wolffe and Bly? I mean, I know that Bacara's on Tamba IX." - "Bly is somewhere shagging his girlfriend." - "What?", Rex snorted, and made himself comfortable against the side of Fox's chest. "He'd protest loudly", Cody threw in, "But it's impossible there's not something between them. I mean, just look at her clothes." - "Yeah, she basically asks to be shagged, right?", Ponds added. "Are we speaking about General Secura?" - "Who else?", Cody grinned.

"Well, Commander Tano uses to wear rather.... liberal clothes as well, but we still get along on a very professional base", Rex argued. "Yeah, because she's like 3 standard years old", Ponds rolled his eyes. "She's actually older than us", Cody corrected neutrally. "What?!", was Fox's reply. "Yeah, but I'm still concerned for her most of the times. General Skywalker is so chaotic at times and she's such a teeny weeny little thing, I’m afraid she might get caught in the crossfire at some point", Rex sighed, "You know, she's my superior and older and everything but I just feel.... responsible."

"I totally get what you mean", Cody threw him a brotherly but slightly too strong punch, "Do you remember that few months when you still served under my command and Skywalker was still a commander himself?" Rex laughed. Yes. He did remember that time vividly with all it's craziness. "That must have been the worst time of your lives", Ponds commented. "You bet!", Rex spat out.

Thorn and Colt chuckled. "At least you work together with people who got a clue of what the shab is going on", now it was Colt's turn to throw up his hands in disbelief. "You won't believe what strange excuses some rookies come up with just to not be bound to do anything", he laughed lightly, "I once had a squad who all broke a bone on purpose to avoid being shipped out. You should have heard their stories, one of them said he fell from his cot. And another one 'slipped in the shower'." - "Oh, so they were lying?", Thorn asked. "Well.... one wasn't. One of them stumbled over some stairs and totally wrecked his kneecaps." That drew a round of laughter from the pile.

"Folks, guys, brothers, I have a good story as well", Cody flailed with his arm to get the next turn to speak. "Are you going to complain about General Kenobi again?", Rex predicted with an eyeroll. This was getting out of hand, Cody didn't even realize how lucky he was with the reserved and calm thinking Jedi Council member and not with an airhead called General Skywalker. "How do you even expect him to talk about anyone else?", Fox mumbled around the rim of the rotgut. "Force, you're so right. Cody, your Kenobi-stress-headaches have been replaced with an obsession. This is an unhealthy turn of events", Ponds teased, earning himself a slap against the chest.

"Alright", Colt rolled his eyes, "Tell us, then." Cody opened his mouth to speak but had to take his time to giggle first which immediately infected the whole group. Cody's laugh was rare. But ever the funniest, with a little snort in the beginning and the waving snickering in the end. "It was-", he had to pause again, "I'm wheezing, guys." - "Believe it or not, we noticed", Thorn commented dryly which set Fox off like a rocket for no reason whatsoever. "Impressive story, really", Colt took over from there and Rex had to shift his head because the constant thrashes of Fox's stomach were getting uncomfortable in his neck. "I really liked that middle part", Thorn continued, Fox was officially lost now. "Yeah, never have we heard of such stupidity before", Colt agreed and took another big mouthful.

"You didn't even hear the story yet", Cody whined between sobs and Ponds patted him on the head: "It's alright, Cod'ika, we don't have to if you're not ready yet." Fox let out a pitched, strangled scream and threw his arm over his eyes, his laughing already sounded more like crying in the moment. "Folks, guys, brothers", Rex called, laughing, "Have mercy, he's gonna choke." Fox made a night vision goggles sound before laughing his ass off again. "I think we broke him", Thorn said and received an approving clap on the chest from Colt.

Rex was beginning to feel warm in his skin. The alcohol was taking effect on him now as well but the happiness within the circle of his batchmates was definitely playing a factor in this. He felt like he never wanted to get up again, hearing Fox enjoy himself so much he'd choke on his own spit or Cody now quietly complaining to Ponds about whatever breakneck stunt General Kenobi had pulled off this time or Thorn audibly approving of the way Colt began to card through his thick, paling hair. Rex was happy here surrounded by his brothers in arms. He would never want to trade them for anyone else, not even Torrent Co, and those were a funny and chaotic little pile of ants. He smiled and closed his eyes then pressed his cheek against Fox's warm thigh. This was where he wanted to be right now and nowhere else.

"Rex's enjoying himseeelf", Thorn called out and now suddenly the attention was on Rex. He grinned at them a little sheepishly and tried to hide his blush in Fox's blacks. "Aww, what're ya thinking 'bout, vod'ika?", Colt asked and now even Cody and Ponds rose their heads to look at them. "Ah, nothing", he grinned behind flushed cheeks, "I was just thinking how lucky I am to still have you guys." That erupted a wave of hums and awws from his friends and Fox immediately opened his arms wide. "C'mere lil bro", he slurred and what else could Rex do but comply? He shuffled closer and placed his head on Fox's chest only to get swallowed up by comfortable arms.

He felt the pile tighten around him as the others tried to participate a little in the hug. Rex smiled into Fox's chest and closed his eyes again. "I love you idiots. From deep within my heart", he confessed. "You say that to every batch you've ever been in?", Colt joked and earned himself a slap from Thorn. "Stop killing the fucking mood, Colt", Cody complained. There was a hand between Rex's shoulders that started dragging their nails over his back, which caused comfy goosebumps to trail down his spine. He reached out with his own arm to follow the trail of the comfort bringer to find it was leading back to Thorn. He scratched lightly over his brother's shoulder before resting his hand there which soon was accompanied by Colt's much warmer hand.

A comfortable silence fell around them all and when Rex paid much attention to it he could hear the quiet scritching of Colt's nails on Thorn's scalp or the rub of a hand over blacks. Soon those sounds were drowned out, though, by Fox taking out his feels on Rex's buzzcut.

The even movement of blunt nails on his scalp and the slight fondle on his neck and the regular rise and fall of Fox's ribcage rocked Rex's dreamboat. What if, he thought, it could always be like this? To come home after a long, day of hard work and just lay down and be peaceful with each other. Oh, what wouldn't he give for that?

"I love you, too, brothers", Thorn mumbled after a while. "Mhm", Cody hummed approvingly followed suit by the sound of a kiss. Rex opened his eyes again to see who it had been but they were all laying there comfortably with their eyes closed and arms and legs wrapped around each other. A peaceful picture, laughing into the face of the war. Children, as they were. And he was part of this beautiful, comfortable home.

#clone wars #clone wars crack #star wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #commander cody #commander colt #commander thorn #commander fox #commander ponds #cody #rex #ponds #fox #foxyo #comfort #clonepile #clone piles

65 notes · View notes

suituuup · 3 years

Text

The Bachelorette

For a fic x art trade with @thehorriblyslowmurderer. Thank you, I hope you like it :D

rated: T

Word count: 2,5k

ao3 link

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” Beca hisses as she steps out of the car, making a dash in the snow for the front door of the cabin the Bellas will be staying at for the next three nights.

She punches in the code given by the owner via email and pushes the door open just as Chloe makes it to the top of the steps, following her fiancée inside.

“Oh wow,” she breathes, taking in the huge space that’s a perfect mix of authentic and modern, with a jaw-dropping view of the range of mountains in the distance through the large bay window in the living room.

The perks of having a famous girlfriend; they didn’t have to pay for anything, Beca having made a deal with the owners to promote the place on her Instagram while they stayed there for their bachelorette weekend.

A fire is already crackling in the wood-burner and a welcome basket with goodies sits on the kitchen island. Chloe walks over, plucking the note.

“Dear Beca and Chloe. We hope you and your friends have the best time at our cabin,” she reads outloud before taking a look at what’s inside: a couple bottles of wine, cheese, chocolate and fruits. “That’s so sweet of them.”

Beca hums, sliding her arms around Chloe’s waist from behind and hooking her chin over her shoulder. She nips at Chloe’s earlobe. “How much time do you think we have until the others get here?”

“We’re here, pitches!” Amy’s voice interrupts Chloe’s lusty thoughts before she can reply.

She giggles at Beca’s groan, patting her forearm and stepping out of her embrace to greet their friends. Everyone’s been so busy this year, their last reunion dating back to last New Years Eve. “Hey guys!”

“We brought booze!” Stacie exclaims, holding up two bottles of tequila. “I’ve got like, a bunch more in the trunk.”

“Let’s pimp this place up, ladies,” Aubrey instructs, carrying a box containing what looks like rainbow themed-decorations.

“Oh jeez,” Beca mutters as once everyone greeted everyone, the Bellas move about the place to prep dinner and whatever else they have planned for herself and Chloe. “Should we be scared?” She mumbles to her fiancée.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Stacie says as she walks past them, winking.

Yeah. They should definitely be scared.

The first night turns out to be pretty low key, Jessica, Ashley and Aubrey whipping up an amazing dinner for all of them. They drink wine and play a drunken game of Twister and Cards Against Humanity, turning in rather early as they plan on hitting the slopes the morning after.

“Today was so much fun,” Chloe gushes as she swipes through her photos once they’ve made it back to the cabin after their day spent skiing. “I even caught your fall on film.”

Beca grumbles, trying to get her cold fingers to work down her jacket zipper. “You better not post that on social media, Beale.”

“How’s your ass?” Chloe smirks, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed.

“Bruised.”

“Poor baby,” Chloe sighs, pushing to her feet and sliding up behind Beca. She peppers her jaw with soft kisses and nuzzles her cheek. “Come shower with me?”

Beca seems to fight off a shiver, not one triggered by the cold. “Be there in a sec.”

Walking into their fancy ensuite bathroom, Chloe turns on the spray in the Italian shower and strips the remaining layers on her body before stepping under the hot water. Slender arms loop around her waist less than a minute later, Beca’s warm body pressing against hers.

“You think you can be quiet?” Is murmured against her ear as one of Beca’s hands slides downwards.

Chloe bites back a moan, turning around in Beca’s arms and stepping back until her back hits the stone wall behind her. She watches with darkened eyes as Beca lowers herself to the tile floor and hooks one leg over her shoulder, Chloe’s eyes sliding shut at that first lick.

When they eventually come out of the shower a while later dressed in matching robes, they find Bride-to-be shirts folded on their bed, along with a sticker stuck to one of them.

quit boning and meet us downstairs! the party’s awaitin’

The back of the shirt sports selfie of them that they must have taken from Chloe’s instagram.

“This is so cheesy,” Beca grumbles as she shrugs it on, but Chloe knows she secretly loves it.

“There they are!” Stacie shouts when they make it downstairs fifteen minutes later.

Music is pumping through Beca’s expensive wireless speaker and the coffee table is covered in various liquor bottles, snacks and a handful of pizza boxes.

“Have a seat, ladies,” Amy motions to the two chairs facing the couch with a flourish of her hand, bowing her head.

Chloe and Beca sit down, and Jessica and Ashely set a rainbow tiara on their heads and sling a bride-to-be sash across their chests.

“We had each of you fill out a bachelorette quiz a week ago, and you’ll have to guess the other’s answers. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” Aubrey explains, motioning towards the row of shots set on the coffee table.

“And if we get it right?” Chloe questions, cocking an eyebrow.

She’s gonna crush this game.

“You get to pick a present out of the gift bag.” She nods to the large tote bag sat between their chairs. “Any questions?”

Both shake their heads as Aubrey plops down on the couch between Emily and CR. “Chloe, what is Beca’s favorite feature about you?”

“That’s easy,” Chloe beams, glancing at her fiancée with heart-eyes. “My eyes.”

Beca rolls hers as Chloe leans in to kiss her cheek before reaching into the bag. She wraps her hand around a bottle and pulls it out, reading its label. “Ooooh, coconut massage oil.”

“Boring. Alright, next question,” Stacey says, plucking the sheet from Aubrey’s hands and ignoring Aubrey’s objection. “What could Chloe eat every day?”

Beca smirks, and without a beat of hesitation, replies, “Me.”

Emily flushes hard, Stacie smirks devilishly, while Aubrey makes a face. The rest of the girls hoot and whistle, and the tips of Beca’s ears redden.

“I knew you’d put something dirty on a bachelorette quizz,” Beca murmurs into Chloe’s ear a beat later as she leans across the short distance between them. “Otherwise I would have said pizza.”

Chloe grins, leaning in to peck her lips. “Correct.”

Beca fishes a gift out of the bag and unfolds the clothing item. Her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Wow, that’s… I have no words.”

The pair of hot pink panties read: You may now bang the bride.

“I love them!” Chloe says, snatching them from her fiancée’s hand. “I’ll keep ‘em.”

“Chloe, what was Beca’s first impression of you?”

“She thought that I was crazy,” Chloe replies. She shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I did break into her shower.”

“The word we were looking for was intense,” Stacie corrects with a tut. “Take a shot.”

“Oh come on, she’s just being polite because I’m her fiancée!” Chloe argues with a laugh.

“Take a shot, ginger!” Amy shouts.

With a grumble, Chloe plucks the shot glass in front of her off the table and knocks it back, grimacing at the burn as it slides down her throat.

Jessica is the one to ask the next question. “Beca, what was Chloe’s first car?”

“Seriously!?” Beca asks. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“You do!” Chloe points out, a shit-eating grin spreading across her features.

“Really?” Beca mumbles and reaches out to take her first shot.

“My old Jeep! We had sex in it,” Chloe blurts out, giggled as Beca chokes a little on the liquid. “And broke the front seat.”

“TMI,” Aubrey winces, her nose scrunching up before she takes a sip from her red solo cup.

“Chloe, what job did Beca want to do as a kid?” Emily asks.

Chloe’s eyes light up. “Oooh, she wanted to be a detective!”

Beca chuckles. “I was obsessed with Scooby-Doo as a kid.”

“Aw, you found your real life Daphne!” Ashley gushes while Beca rolls her eyes.

She bends to pick something from the bag, pulling out a pair of padded handcuffs.

“Oh, nice! Ours isn’t padded,” Chloe comments, as she takes them from her fiancée. She leans in to whisper something into Beca’s ear. “I know you like it when it hurts, but I don’t like seeing you all bruised up.”

“Beca, your submissive is showing,” Stacie states when Beca blushes from Chloe’s comment, plucking the sheet from Emily’s hold.

“Beca, what’s Chloe’s biggest accomplishment?”

“Easy. She has two: winning the Worlds and getting into vet school.”

“Nice, babe,” Chloe praises, holding her hand up for a high-five.

By the time they’re finished with the questions, Chloe is definitely buzzed (she had like three shots out of fifteen questions, which isn’t too bad in her opinion), and they’ve added a few gifts to their pile, a variety of sweet and kinky: matching Mrs and Mrs mugs, a bottle of lube, two sets of gorgeous satin pajamas, a spa treatment for two at Chloe’s favorite establishment in NYC, and a strapless strap-on (the best in the market, according to Stacie).

“Now we believe Beca has something planned for Chloe,” Aubrey says as she stands, taking Beca’s phone from Beca’s hand.

Chloe’s head whips to the left towards Beca, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “You do?”

“Mhm,” Beca hums while four of the girls move the coffee table to make space. She brushes a too short kiss to Chloe’s lips, pulling away before Chloe’s ready to end it, and casts her a wink as she steps backwards. “Go sit in that armchair.”

The opening notes of Beyoncé’s Dance For You drift through the speakers, Chloe’s jaw dropping when she realizes Beca is about to dance for her in front of their friends.

“Oh my gosh,” Chloe breathes out with a laugh, her body temperature cranking up a notch as she gets comfortable.

Beca’s hips start to swivel to the beat of the song, hands leaving her hips to slowly hike up her sides. Her fingers tangle into her brunette hair as she twists to stand sideways and slowly shimmies lower. One hand leaving her hair, Beca traces her bottom lip with her pointer finger and bites down onto the tip before she straightens, arching her back so her ass sticks out as she rises from her crouched position. She adds a hair flip to the mix before slowly strutting towards Chloe, perfectly on cue with the beat, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Chloe’s.

“Work it, girl!” Stacie shouts as Beca stands in front of Chloe, bending down so that they share the same breath.

A chill runs down Chloe’s spine as she resists closing the distance between them, knowing from the wickedness flashing in Beca’s eyes that she’s bound to pull away before their lips can touch.

Beca spins around, her hips matching the chorus as she bends at the knees with her legs spread and grinds it low for a few beats. Her perfect ass brushes against Chloe’s body on her way back up, and it takes everything in Chloe not to grab and squeeze it.

The volume rises around them as the girls cheer and hoot, but Chloe can only focus on Beca and how sexy she is as she turns back to face her, hands running through her own hair then drifting down the curve of her neck, over her breasts and stomach.

“It’s called a lap dance for a reason, shortstack,” Amy calls out as the song flawlessly transitions to Drunk In Love, the perfect arrangement no doubt one of Beca’s works.

Chloe’s mouth dries up as Beca sets both hands on Chloe’s knees and spreads them apart.

“No touching,” Beca husks lowly, nipping at the shell of her ear and eliciting a quiet moan from Chloe. She turns around and her hips start to move in a slow, sensual dance; swerving, popping, grinding and occasionally rubbing against Chloe’s crotch.

Spinning back around, she braces a hand by Chloe’s head and sets her right knee in the space between Chloe’s left thigh and the arm of the chair, rolling her body towards Chloe once. She straddles her lap next, her lips parted to accommodate her heavier breathing as she stares down at Chloe.

Chloe’s fingers dig into the leather of the arm rest to keep her hands from touching Beca as her hips gyrate in lazy circles in her lap. When the song comes to an end, Beca cups her cheek, pulling her into a deep, languid kiss which Chloe eagerly returns, finally giving in to the burning desire and palming her ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Alright, alright! We get the message,” Aubrey’s voice cuts through their lustful lip lock.

“That was so freaking hot,” Chloe breathes across Beca’s lips, nipping at the bottom one before backing away. “I need the rest of that performance later.”

Beca wets her lips, smirking. “Deal.”

Games less centered around the brides-to-be follow as they pass around a joint of weed and eat pizza while sprawled out on the various couches in the living room.

It’s past three am by the time they head upstairs, and Chloe can tell by the expression on Beca’s face that she’s high. Chloe only took one hit and feels fine, if not still a little drunk from the shots she downed at the start of the party.

“You okay?” She asks, catching Beca staring at her with a look as she pulls her sleeping shirt over her head.

Beca nods. “I’m just… we’ll be married in less than a month.” She seems to ponder on her words for a few seconds. “Married. That’s like… big.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow and steps closer, lowering herself on Beca’s lap as she sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you freaking out?”

“Weirdly, no,” Beca replies as her arms loop around Chloe’s waist. “I actually can’t wait. For our wedding, our honeymoon, our kids…”

“Our kids, huh?” Chloe questions in amusement. She twirls a brunette lock around her pointer finger. “How many kids are we talking?”

“Mmm, at least two. I didn’t like being an only child and you loved growing up with siblings so I want that for our children, too.”

Chloe’s smile is so big, it almost hurts. “Sounds like a good plan.” She brushes a kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. “You know what else sounds like a good plan? You giving me the rest of that performance. Preferably with less clothes on.”

Beca’s eyes darken at that, her lips curving into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.”

#bechloe #bechloe fic

90 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 4 years

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (I)

Part 1: How It All Began

Here we goooo!! New series! This is from a request from my 4.7k followers event, with the prompts 22 and 23 (I won't put them here, cause I don't want to spoil too much… you can check them on my post for the event if you want by doing a quick research.) by @paniconthepitch .

It's a fake-dating AU with the best friends to lovers trope, and it's gonna be a wile ride!!! There won't be any warnings in this fic except for some angst and tooth-rotting fluff, as usual for me :)

So, I hope you like it! I'm gonna structure the fic a little differently compared to what I usually do (even if it's nothing extraordinary), so tell me if you like this first chapter, so I know if you like how I've organized the fic!

Tell me what you think, please! I'm very excited and nervous to share the first chapter with all of you!

Oh, also, I don't like talking about the whole covid crisis in my fics (I write to mainly escape from it), so even though the fic happens this year, there isn't any virus around, so no one is breaking distancing rules or anything.

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count : 4516

Holmes Chapel

1999

It was a warm summer in Northern England. Sun high and warm and skies bluer than blue.

Your parents were unboxing some of your stuff in your new home, but it was the afternoon, and the weather was way too nice for you to stay inside. Instead, despite your tiny body, you had managed to climb on top of the stone wall that enclosed your garden and separated it from the street. Just a little patch of grass on the front of the house, but it was nice. You looked at the cars driving across the street, a thin layer of sweat making your forehead glisten in the sun because of how warm it was. You could hear your parents' distant voices through the open window of the living room. The air smelled of gasoline and blossoming roses from your neighbours' house. From time to time, a dog barked in one of the tiny gardens further down the street.

You were eating an ice-cream, that your mother had prepared for you by putting it in a paper cup. Some of it was sticky on your chin, but you didn't mind. It was good, and you were having fun looking at the new neighbourhood.

A little boy pranced out of the house on your right, carrying a bag to put in the bin outside the house. He seemed to be around five years old, just like you.

As he saw you sitting on the low wall, a curious expression settled on his features, and he tilted his head in wonder. He had never seen you before, and it was very surprising, as he knew all the children living in the street, even the ones who were older than his sister.

He thus decided to walk over to you and investigate.

You beamed at him as he approached, hoping to make a new friend already. It was your first day in this town, you reckoned it would make a great start for the life in your new home.

"Hi!" You waved at him, and his cautious behaviour slightly faded as he smiled back at you.

"Hi. Who are you?" He asked bluntly, a frown wrinkling his round face, chubby cheeks turned pink by the heat, and a bundle of dark blonde hair getting messy as he pushed a few locks out of his green eyes.

"I'm Y/N. My parents and I are moving in this house. Do you live there?" You asked too, pointing at the house he had walked out of.

He nodded slowly, seeming satisfied with your answer.

"Yep," he answered, popping the p at the end. "Why are you alone?" he went on, a lisp making him trip over his words a little.

"My parents are cleaning stuff inside. And I don't have friends here yet."

Again, he nodded at your explanation.

You remembered your grand-mother's advice about making friends, and reckoned that if you wanted to make the little boy your first companion in the neighbourhood, you needed to offer him something. So, you handed him the rest of your ice-cream.

"Do you want some?" you asked with a bright smile.

The boy decided that he liked seeing you smile. You were missing a couple of baby teeth, and it was such a happy gesture that he wanted to make you laugh instead.

He remembered the joke that his sister had played on their cousin that had made the whole table laugh. He reckoned that it should do the trick.

So, instead of taking the ice cream you were offering him, he jumped up and pushed it against your face.

And indeed, your face covered in vanilla ice-cream was hilarious, and he exploded with laughter.

But you weren't laughing at all, as the boy laughed at you. Instead, hot tears started to form at the corner of your eyes, and you looked at the little boy with so much hurt and betrayal on your features that his laugh died in his throat as quickly as it had formed in the first place.

When you started to actually cry, he was panicking.

"Hey, don't cry," he said, as if asking for a favour. "I... I didn't want to make you cry. I thought it was funny."

But you just kept on crying, and he felt so terribly awful seeing you like this that he found himself on the verge of tears too. Your eyes were turning puffy and you were sniffing, and seemed so miserable... he didn't want to see that look on your face, ever. He liked your face too much, actually.

"I'm sorry. It was a joke. Don't cry. Is it because you dropped the rest of your ice-cream?"

You didn't answer, quietly crying still, and he rushed to his house, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. And you were even more miserable than before.

So much for making a friend...

You were about to go back inside, finding no fun in being out anymore and wanting to clean up your face when you saw him running out of the house again.

He was carrying what seemed to be a container full of ice-cream and a spoon.

"Here!" He handed you the two objects, struggling to catch his breath after his run. "You can have mine instead. I'm sorry you didn't find my joke funny. Please, don't cry anymore."

Hesitantly, you took the objects from him, awaiting a new trick, but none came. You opened the box to discover some chocolate ice-cream, as promised.

"I'm sorry. I don't have vanilla one. But maybe Mrs. Richard has some... she keeps this kind of stuff all the time for when her grand-children come visit... do you want me to check for you?"

He seemed earnest, and his green eyes were full of concern. But you shook your head, eating a spoonful of his ice-cream.

"It's good. Thank you," you quipped, making him beam up at you.

He noticed that you weren't crying anymore, but you were pouting still, and he didn't like that look on you either. He wondered what more could he do to make you properly smile again.

"Why did you do that in the first place though?" You asked, interrupting his train of thoughts as he considered running to his room to get his new toy, thinking that maybe if he let you borrow it, you would feel better. But only on the condition that you didn't put ice cream on the red plastic car, of course...

"My sister made that joke to our cousin once, and it made everybody laugh, so I thought it would make you laugh too. I don't know why you didn't think it was funny, I thought it was fun!"

"You're not the one who got covered in ice-cream," you answered with sadness in your voice.

He bit down on his lip, and sheepishly shook his head.

"No... You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I like your ice-cream better," you admitted, and he beamed at you again.

"It's some very good ice-cream! My favourite!"

"Mine too. Want to share?"

He enthusiastically nodded. Climbing on the wall by your side. He handed you the tissue his mother always forced him to have in his pocket at all times. Maybe she was right, it was handy.

You took it with a quiet thank you, trading the tissue against the spoon and you cleaned up your face while he ate some ice-cream too.

And as you looked at him again, you reckoned that maybe it wasn't too late to make a friend, after all.

But you couldn't be friends if you didn't know his name. That would be rude.

"What's your name?" You asked.

He swallowed his mouthful too fast, making his brain freeze and you laughed at the silly face he made as a reaction. He had chocolate all over his mouth, but you reckoned that it made him look even happier.

"Harry. I'm Harry."

Malibu

2020

"What do you mean lying to your family about us? What do you mean you need a 'plus one'?"

You heaved a trembling sigh. You knew that you were asking an awful lot out of your best friend but you simply had no choice.

Your cousin's wedding was in two weeks, and if you went alone you would spend the entire day hearing about how sad it was that you were single, and everyone would try to plan a date fpr you with this cute colleague they had. It wasn't helping that you had decided to move back to England after you would complete your PhD in California. You could not even begin to think about the people at the wedding who would actually make a move on you as the night advanced and veins were slowly filled with more and more liquor.

No, you most definitely did not have the strength to go through this. And all you needed was a tiny lie to escape it all. One tiny lie that would last only for a day and you could actually enjoy the wedding instead of trying to escape from it. You liked your cousin, and knew she would be devastated if you didn't go, so you really had no choice at all.

And all your hopes of spending a decent day relied on your rockstar of a best friend.

Harry was frowning at you, sitting across from you around one of the tables of the Cafe Habana, his pink cocktail since long disregarded as he struggled to understand what was it exactly that you were asking from him.

It was unbelievably warm in Malibu, and your table outside was only salvaged by the weak breeze blowing from time to time. You were nervously fidgeting, your hands resting on the wooden table between you and Harry.

He rubbed his eyes and readjusted his sunglasses upon his head, his green eyes piercing right through you as you explained the situation one more time.

"I need you to accompany me to my cousin's weeding and pretend you're my boyfriend, so I will escape my family's disappointment and all the drunk single guests who will try to dance with me."

"You want us to pretend that we're together. Like... romantically together?"

"Yes."

"During your cousin's wedding. In front of your entire family?"

"Yes."

"And you think that I'm the best man for the job because...?"

"You're my best friend. You've known me basically all my life. You know me better than anyone else on this Earth, it won't be hard for you to pretend like you know all the useful details about me because you actually know them. You get along so well with my parents. Plus, you're an actor now too! Even if it's part-time... You'll do great! Consider it like a training exercise for your career in the movie industry."

"Absolutely the fuck not."

"Harry! Please! I need your help!"

"It's a terrible idea! No... no actually, it's worse than that. It's the worst idea I've ever heard! I can't pretend to be your boyfriend! In front of your whole family! I know your whole family!"

"Harry... please... I need your help, okay? You don't know how they are, it's going to be hell... Half of my family considers that I am a failure because I was not married by the age of 22, and the other half begins to think that the reason I am still single is that I am insane!"

"For their defence, you do sound a little bit crazy right now."

"HARRY!"

"Alright, alright... calm down," he mumbled, raising his hands before him in a gesture of peace. "I was just joking."

"Look, my family is... on that particular point, they're a pain in the arse. I need your help. I will not make it through the day without punching someone if I try to go on my own. And Cassie is so excited at the idea of me going to her wedding! And it's in Scotland! It's gonna be so pretty! Harry, please. It's just for one day."

He heaved a sigh, but you could read in the way that his eyes travelled back and forth from left and right and the way he tugged on his lower lip in between his fingers that he was hesitating.

It was all because of your cute little pout and sad eyes. He couldn't resist those. Never had been able to, even when the two of you were just five years old. Damn you and your adorable face…

"I'll let you eat all the cherries I get from my grandma's orchard this year," you offered, making him smile and shake his head at you.

But you read in his body language that you were winning.

"H, pretty please... just one day... one day... I'll go to all your shows for your next tour. I won't ever tell you again when I don't like one of your songs."

He laughed properly this time.

"Liar, you're too honest. You'll never manage to keep that up. That's why I like you so much."

"Okay... but I will go to your shows. And I'll give you cherries..."

He heaved a final sigh, but nodded this time.

"Alright, I'll do it," he agreed.

"YES!" you cried, jumping to your feet to walk around the table and hug Harry so tightly he could barely breathe. "I knew I could count on you!"

"I mean... if I get cherries..."

"As many as you want!"

You kissed his cheek, loud and ridiculously enthusiastic, making him force a wince to hide the way he longed to grin at the gesture instead.

"Alright, alright, calm down," he gently pushed you away and you sat back down into your own chair. "I have a few conditions though."

"Sure, fire away!"

"Rule number one: no kisses, nothing happens during the day."

"Of course! That would be frankly disgusting!" you teased him. "I'd never want to kiss you!"

"Hey! No need to turn it like that! Careful, or I'll change my mind!"

You rolled your eyes, but waited for him to go on, counting on his fingers.

"Rule number two: I won't sing or do any kind of performance at the wedding."

"She already has a band and everything, no worries. Besides, my aunt doesn't like your music, so she would never let that happen."

"That... was the second blow to my ego in the span of two minutes..."

"It's big enough, it can take it."

He playfully stuck his tongue out at you, and you replied with an adorable giggle.

"Rule number 3: if some elderly member of your family starts being all mushy about us, we drop the act and reveal the whole thing. This only stands as long as it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings."

"Sounds fair."

"And last but not least," he added, shooting you one of his annoyingly charming cheeky grins, "You can't fall in love with me for real."

You scoffed.

"As if! Don't get over yourself! You might have pretty dimples and a nice voice, but you're not half as charming as you might think."

"So… it's all safe! Deal?"

He offered you his open hand, and you shook it with a grin on your lips.

"Thanks, H. You're a real life-saviour."

"HI!!!"

The sound of your cousin's happy shriek was so loud, you had to pull your phone away from your ear. It seemed safer to put it on speaker.

You were back at your place, alone, and had decided to call Cassie to let her know that you would attend her wedding, and would bring Harry along. You were cutting tomatoes to prepare a salad for diner whilst on the phone, the device set on speaker resting upon the counter by your side.

"Hi, Cass! How are you? How is the planning going?"

"It's almost ready! We've just found the flowers and they're perfect! But I wanted to call you actually, you haven't replied yet to the invitation. You're gonna come, right?"

"Of course, I'm coming. That's why I was calling right now. I just..." you cleared your voice before finishing your sentence, your heart rushing as you lied. "I just had to check if my boyfriend was available too, so I could come with him as my plus one. And he can come so..."

Cassie let out another cry full of excitement, interrupting you mid-sentence.

"Your boyfriend!? How come you've never mentioned him before?!"

"Hum... we like our privacy, let's say. But we'll have more time to talk about that at the wedding."

"Of course! We have a whole week to catch up!"

You frowned hard, feeling panic rise into your chest.

What did she mean by that?

"A week?"

"Well, of course! You're coming to the family event, right?"

"The family event?"

"Haven't you received my email?! For the whole week leading to the wedding it's gonna be our closest family members and friends in Scotland! We'll finish getting ready and have lots of fun! I've planned so many activities! You're coming to that, right?"

"I..."

"Oh dear, I can't wait to see you there! It's been ages! Did you really have to move to the States? I've already asked Amy to get your favourite pastries, I know how much you love those snacks. I can't wait to see you... so, you're arriving on Friday or Saturday then?"

You had to tell her the truth. Had to tell her that you had only asked Harry for one day and not a whole week. He was so busy these days working in the studio, there was no way he could clear a whole week for you being notified only a couple of weeks in advance. A weekend could be done but over a week?!

You heaved a sigh. You would have to spend the week on your own, but at least, the news of a boyfriend coming for the ceremony would ease your family's mind. You could still escape most of their terrible comments about your love life.

"I haven't booked my flight yet. Not sure if I'll arrive Friday or Saturday. I'll keep you updated. My boyfriend will be working though, so he can only come for the weekend of the wedding."

"Oh, of course, I understand. What does he do?"

"Hum... he's in the... music business."

She heaved a sigh.

"Oh, Y/N, please, tell me you didn't fall in love with a penniless drummer again, like you did in high school. Not again, sweetie."

You laughed at the memories, shaking your head.

"He's not a drummer. And he's not penniless either. It's Harry."

"HARRY?! Wait… You mean… HARRY HARRY?!"

"I don't even know anyone else called Harry," you laughed. "Yes, Harry Styles, from Holmes Chapel."

"I thought the two of you were just friends."

"Hmm… We… decided to give it a try."

"Wow… Oh. My. God… wait until your mum finds out. Have you told her yet?"

"No, not yet."

"She's gonna freak out."

"Why would she? She knows him! She likes him."

"As your friend, sure! As your boyfriend… Your dad will chop his head off."

"Yeah… I'm a bit worried about my dad."

"You'll have to tell me everything about it, but I have to run now... There is apparently an emergency with the napkins."

"Good luck with that. See you!"

"See you!"

"Hmm... H?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at you from the cup of tea he held in his hands, his long fingers encircling the porcelain to warm his hands.

It was a little chilly, or as chilly as an evening in early autumn could be in LA, at least. You were enjoying a quiet evening with him, spent in his garden. You sat in the grass, with stars and torchlights shedding just enough light for the two of you to keep on playing scrabble. You had stolen his multicolour cardigan when the sun had set and the breeze had turned colder. Harry wore one of his Treat People with Kindness sweaters.

In the distance, a siren rang and then passed Harry's neighbourhood. You could hear muffled laughter coming from children playing in a garden nearby.

It was quiet still, the whisper of the busy city shushed for the most part. Time seemed a little slower now, an effect of the night and the lack of constant busy flow of people around you.

"About my cousin's wedding I told you about the other day... have you booked your flight yet?"

He shook his head, blowing upon his too-warm beverage.

"I figured we should book the same flight," he answered.

"Oh no! I'll be going a week early."

"I thought you were only staying for the weekend," Harry frowned before taking a sip of warm tea.

You could have walked back inside to finish your game now that the weather was cooler. But it was such a precious moment you were sharing that you were too scared to break your bubble if you did move.

After all, evenings spent alone with Harry were too rare to be wasted away.

You didn't blame only his busy schedule and his numerous friends though, you were a busy bee yourself. Entering your last year of PhD and getting ready to write your thesis to become a doctor as an history major was a lot of work. You also had friends of your own that you enjoyed spending time with, and if Harry sometimes joined you at a bar, it just wasn't the same as spending time with only him.

So, you didn't ask him if you could move in the house when you shivered as the wind blew with more strength. Instead, you enjoyed the way his hands moved across the board as he placed his letters to form a new word, his fingers bare, for once not wearing any piece of jewellery.

"No, my cousin is actually inviting the close family a week in advance to spend a few days with us. She has apparently prepared tons of activities and stuff."

"Oh... shouldn't I go to that too, then? As your plus one?"

But you shook your head, a little embarrassed.

"No, I told her you might not be able to attend that but you would be here for the actual wedding. It's alright. You have enough work as it is."

"You're telling me that you're gonna get a whole week alone with your entire family?"

"Only the close circle but... yeah. It's alright though... they're not that bad. Just annoying with the whole 'being single and soon 30' thing."

Harry groaned.

"We're only 26, don't make me older than I am, I don't need a reminder."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before he would ask another question.

"Won't they bother you for that week if you go alone?"

"I guess... they're probably gonna pretend like I'm not actually bringing anyone, criticize you a lot for not coming for the whole week, especially as you're a musician and they consider that you don't have a real job..."

"For their defence… I don't have a real job."

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn't refrain a smile.

"Anyway... as long as you come to the actual ceremony, I should be fine."

"Nah... that sounds horrid. I'll come with you to the whole thing."

"H..."

"It's alright! It doesn't bother me at all! Besides, I haven't seen your mum in a long time..."

His eyes grew round all of a sudden.

"Wait... we're gonna have to lie to your mum..."

"And to my dad."

His worried expression turned into one of fear.

"Oh fuck... your dad is going to kill me."

You laughed at him, but it was hard to hide your own fear at the idea of the two of you facing your father.

"Of course not! He likes you!"

"Likes me? Have you forgotten the closed-door incident that summer when we were 14? Cause I haven't... I thought he was going to strangle me or something..."

"We're not 14 anymore."

"Yeah, but we're going to tell him that I am really fucking his daughter this time. It's much worse..."

You couldn't refrain a bright wave of laughter, despite the genuine fear in Harry's eyes.

"It's not funny!"

"It is. It is kind of funny. Don't worry, he won't hurt you. You know my dad, lots of barking but no actual biting."

"What about when we mysteriously break up right after the wedding?"

"We'll just wait a few weeks before I break the news to them. I can even pretend that I'm the one who called it quits, if you'd like."

"I better hope so! Or I'm going to earn a good old sermon from my mum."

"Anne can be terrifying at times."

"That's because she's the sweetest the rest of the time. It's too rare, we can't get used seeing her angry at us."

"Hmm... I agree."

There was a short moment of silence while you played, placing letters on the board too and counting your points.

"So... when is your flight?"

"Friday in two weeks."

"Alright, I'd better check if there's some room left for me too then."

"Harry... you really don't have to do that..."

"I said I'd be your plus one for the event, and I will. It's alright. I'll come to the whole thing. But know that if your father ends up beating the shit out of me, you'll be the one responsible! If you weren't a broke student, I'd make you pay for my hospital bills too, but I'm not that cruel. The weight of my suffering and broken bones on your conscience will have to be enough."

You laughed, and he soon joined you, enjoying the way your happy features made crinkles appear at the corner of your eyes.

"Poor chuckaboo..."

"Oi! Don't start with that, lambkin!"

"Why not? You've been teasing me with that stupid nickname since we were 12, I can tease you with your own too!"

"Actually, they're pet names, not nicknames. Terms of endearment."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Dictionary."

"Well, I guess I should have the title, as I am properly kicking your pretty arse at scrabble right now, lambkin."

"Considering that my boxing skills are far superior to yours and that I could actually kick your pretty arse if I wanted to, I would tune the narcissist down a little bit, chuckaboo."

"You've always been a terrible loser."

"You're even worse than I am!"

"How could you know? I always win against you."

You threw a few letters at him in response, making him giggle in the most adorable way.

And as he struggled to calm down and stop his snickering, you reckoned that you truly were lucky to have a best friend like him.

And if he wanted to come with you to Scotland then... how could you say no? After all, you did need all the help you could get to survive this week with all your relatives.

After all, Harry would be there, pretending to be your boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

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

Taglist : @emcchi @fishstick-knows @eldahae

@ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers @cronias13 @stylesfics-xx @mellamolayla @mariaenchanted

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #imagine #series #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #4700 followers #event #writing prompt

140 notes · View notes