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#somewhere on your road tonight
pseudowho · 26 days
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A Reliable Man
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Sometimes the hero you want, isn't always the hero you need.
A Kiyotaka Ijichi appreciation smutfic.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, loss of virginity
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"Ijichi...can you come and collect me, please?"
"Of course. Just send your location over."
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"Ijichi, it's so late. Are you okay to collect me?"
"Don't worry, I've been waiting. Have you eaten?"
"Oh...I haven't. It's alright, I can sort myself out--"
"I'll pick something up. It's no trouble."
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"--ah, shit-- Ijichi, call the school-- I need backup, urgently."
"Hold on. Get somewhere safe. I'll call everyone-- anyone. Get to safety. Please."
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"Ijichi, I--...I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't called for help. I...I really am sorry."
A pause. A soft sigh.
"...please, don't be sorry. You're out there saving lives. You don't have to be sorry about anything."
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Ijichi--
...your finger hovered over your phone screen. You saw the time; 10pm. You felt a familiar squirm of shame, disgusted by yourself for demanding so much of Kiyotaka Ijichi.
He was off the clock...you were in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, you had forgotten how hard he worked; while directing all of the assistants should have been a full time job in itself, Ijichi stepped above and beyond, by sacrificing his time, his effort, his safety, shift after shift after shift.
You tapped your phone against your forehead, eyes closed as you sighed. You decided to walk home. It would take you hours, but it was still better than--
Your phone vibrated in your hand. You looked at the screen.
Kiyotaka Ijichi.
You answered immediately, flustered, the words catching in your throat. Ijichi got there first. His voice, calm, soft, worried.
"I just...thought I'd check in. There aren't any drivers on tonight, but you're out on a mission. Are you home yet?" Tears pricked in your eyes, and you gulped.
"Ijichi.. you're not even at work. What are you doing? Calling me? You need a break." You chastised him. He laughed weakly, apologising in a flurry as you told him off.
"--it's my job to make sure you get hom--"
"--no it's not, Ijichi." Silence on the line. Ijichi waited for you, as he had a hundred times before, "It's not your job to get me home. Not every time. You...why are you...you need a break."
Another soft sigh; another warm pause.
"And I'll have a break," he continued, quietly determined, "when you're home safe. Send me your location. I'm on my way."
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He had opened the door for you. Gently laughed off your reproach. The seats were already warm. A hot drink, in a thermos. A snack bar in the glovebox.
Ijichi looked tired; by this point, you weren't sure if that was just his face, but you felt a strange flutter of sweet relief, joy, to be smiled at by him, as if you were worth the late hour and lack of sleep.
Ijichi cast his eyes over you, relaxing, "You're...not hurt. That's good. I'm--...I'm happy to pick you up," he offered, awkwardly, "but I've had enough of scraping you up and dragging you to Shoko."
You felt such prickling uncertainty bubble in you. Why were you suddenly shy in his presence? Why did his eyes casting over you feel so like a caress? Why did you not want the journey to end?
"Dinner," you blurted out, and Ijichi raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the road, "we should get dinner. If you've not eaten. I've not eaten. But if you don't want to eat then that's fine too I know it's late--"
"No no no, please don't-- yes, please, dinner sounds...lovely."
You took a moment to look down at yourself; muddy, dirty, bedraggled.
"Uhm...at yours, maybe? We'll order takeout?" You were too busy examining the state of yourself to see the blush that fizzed across Ijichi's sharp cheeks.
"I-- uhm--...sure. Yes. That would be...agreeable."
"So formal, Ijichi."
"Shush. I'm a professional."
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"So..." you finished your mouthful, trying not to feel embarrassed about being dressed in one of Ijichi's old t-shirts and sweatpants, "...he really said that? To quit, and get a driving licence?"
Ijichi laughed, his smile parting the clouds and making him look fifteen years younger. You couldn't help but laugh with him, your hand coming to cover your mouth, giggling together on his sofa like teenagers.
Ijichi wiped his eyes, sighing; "Gojo's a force of nature, it's true...but I probably owe him my life. I...feel like I can do more good in my current role, than I could have ever done on the front lines."
Setting down your plate, and wrapping your arms around your knees, you watched Ijichi, fascinated to see him slowly unwind, his loosening coils releasing the stresses of the day. You had never seen him like this...so relaxed. So happy.
You felt another odd squirm, this time a possessive, protective determination that he should never participate in Jujutsu Sorcery. That he should always be safe. You reached out for his hand, stroking his long, smooth fingers in yours.
Ijichi froze, so uncertain about how to react, having never had anyone show interest in him, barely even his parents, let alone a beautiful woman like you--
"You are the lifeblood of the sorcerers, Ijichi," you smiled, "and we'd fall apart without you. I'd fall apart--"
You were close now, almost sat on his lap. Your face was so close to his, that he felt your breath fan against his neck. He couldn't keep pretending he only checked in on you because it was his job. He couldn't keep pretending it barely bothered him when he saw you walk into danger. He couldn't keep pretending he didn't think about you all day and all night--
Ijichi pressed a kiss to your lips so fast, it felt like butterfly's wings. You gaped, wide-eyed, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
"I--I'm so sorry, that was-- that was highly inappropriate of me and I--...mmmfff..."
You had pulled Ijichi in by his collar, continuing the kiss he had started, with such heartfelt sincerity that Ijichi could have cried. You felt the wounds of so many horrible, selfish, unreliable boyfriends past. Ijichi felt the wounds of so many crushes, hopes and rejections past. Neither of you had noticed the treasure beneath your feet for the longest time-- unforgivably long.
Ijichi's hands clenched uncertainly as you kissed him, unsure where they should sit. He happily took your lead, tentatively responding to every press, every fluid movement of your supple lips against his. Only when your tongue swiped across his mouth, did Ijichi groan and respond instinctively, one hand coming up to push his glasses on top of his head, the other snaking to the back of your neck as he tugged you onto his lap.
You had never kissed someone who you knew would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and for whom you would reciprocate without question. A man who appreciated you as you were and wholeheartedly, and about whom you felt the same. A trustworthy man. A sincere man. A reliable man.
You pulled away for a moment, still holding his collar as you straddled his lap, panting against his lips; "Where have you been all my life?"
"In the front seat...just hoping to catch your eye in the mirror."
Crashing your lips against his again, sighing into his mouth, Ijichi's body strained with the heat of your thighs trapping him in. He was desperate to pull his shirt off, to feel your skin on his...except you needed him to act like he knew exactly what he was doing and--
"--wait...wait," Ijichi panted, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair ruffled, a pained grimace on his face. You cupped his cheeks, feeling him, hard and aching beneath you as he squirmed with an uneasy admission.
"I've...I've never-- I haven't--..." Ijichi winced, moving to lean back, mortified and humiliated. You saw his shame start to bubble over, and quickly slammed a lid on the pot. You did not let go of his collar, and did not let him lean back. Instead, you whispered against his lips, enough to make a whimper leave his lips and a drop of pre-cum leave his cock.
"Let's fix that then, shall we?"
Standing, full of divine purpose, you pulled Ijichi to his feet, nuzzling up into his ear until he shivered, his hands ghosting over your hips again.
"My room-- please--" he pressed, smiling into your neck as you laughed, being pushed gently backwards towards his bedroom. Stumbling together into his bedroom, giggling, stealing kisses, and necking like teenagers, you felt yourself thrown back into some sweet young love that you always wanted to have, but never received.
You fell back onto his bed with a bounce and Ijichi stood nervously before you, wanting to follow his instinct to crawl on top of you and bracket you under his arms, but crippled by his lack of confidence. You raised your foot, slipping your toes under his t-shirt and tickling his belly. Ijichi smiled, buckling and grabbing your foot, crawling over you with lovesick eyes. You made it all so easy.
"Ijichi..." you hummed, nosing at his neck, "...whatever your gut tells you to do, is probably right. I trust you. So please, show me what you want."
Ijichi felt shivers down his spine at your open invitation. His fingertips grazed down your plush inner arm, the little squidge of fat between your breast and armpit, the smooth untouched plane beneath your breast. Your eyes fluttered closed, delighted by his reverent touch. His hand gripped your shirt, and you almost felt tears prick in your eyes as he gently shielded your face to pull it off over your head.
Your bra had shifted with wandering hands, and your nipple peeked half-in-half-out, pressed by the edge of the cup. Ijichi ducked his mouth towards it, and you saw him hesitate again. You reached back, undoing your bra and removing it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes, dark and drunk.
"I'd like that," you whispered, and Ijichi breathed a shuddering gasp of relief before taking your nipple into his mouth, tasting you with open-mouthed sucks and laps. You heard his wet little grumbles of appreciation against your skin, when his hand came up to gently finger the softly yielding squidge of your other breast, Ijichi's fingers playing with your nipple with delighted exploration.
Ijichi was so overstimulated already, so touch-starved, and his cock so rigid, that he felt worryingly close to finishing-- so unable to control his own excitement at exploring someone's body so intimately for the first time. That the body belonged to you, the woman he had been falling in love with for years, was the final nail in the coffin, of him threatening to spill in his boxers.
You felt this in him, already prepared for him to want to curl up and die from embarrassment, if he didn't last. You were thrilled by his worship of you, having been treated as expendable more than once before. Teaching him would be a privilege and an honour. All the while, you failed to see how he taught you the bare basics of being respected and revered by a lover.
Ijichi was finely-tuned to subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him, and he learned quickly what you liked as he took your breasts into his hands and mouth. He felt the flickering of your hips up towards his when he licked you a certain way, and the hairs on his neck stood up to hear the breathy moans from your lips when he countered, pressing his twitching cock down against your clothed pussy.
Feeling a warning trickle of pre-cum, Ijichi pulled away from your breasts with a hiss, wrapped up in need and barely ashamed to hear himself beg you; "--please, I-- gosh, I'm sorry so sorry-- not going-- not going to make it--"
You kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. Ijichi moaned, long and shaking, as you draped his tie around your neck, the tails trailing over your wet-nippled breasts.
"God, you're lovely," he blurted out, blushing as you laughed, your head thrown back in genuine joy.
"Not nearly as lovely as you, beautiful man," you purred, ecstatic to see Ijichi's blush deepen when he moved to hide his face, his nose nuzzling in unbridled affection against your neck. Pushing his shirt off his slim shoulders, you raised your feet to hook around his trousers, looking at him with a playful glint.
Ijichi raised his eyebrows in question, and cried out to feel you push his trousers and boxers down, shivering as his cock bobbed out, red-tipped and wet with pre-cum. Ijichi quaked to feel the cool air hit his length, a drip of pre-cum dropping onto your belly.
You felt Ijichi tensed, brittle above you, and knew he risked spilling in your hand if you touched him. Still, you trailed your hand down his belly, nails grazing in the barely-there black hair, before slowly encircling his cock, hot and heavy in your hand.
Ijichi saw stars, his own hand the only one his skin had even known, and groaned into your neck, instinctively bucking into your grip; "--ooohhh, f--...gosh," he whined against you, coughing in alarm as you giggled again, your fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his length. Your other hand pushed down Ijichi's borrowed sweatpants and your panties.
"...are you ready?" You asked Ijichi, smiling at his enthusiastic nod. You rolled the head of his cock between your folds, wet and warm, and Ijichi's arms almost buckled with the bliss and promise.
You guided Ijichi into you, squeaking as he bucked into you, bottoming out in one thrust. Ijichi snapped, cursing in a way that was so alien to the Ijichi you had always known. He gasped, one hand reaching down to sink into the side of your hip, relishing the way you jolted beneath him as he filled you with ragged thrusts.
Never had a man been so captivated by you. The feeling of Ijichi's inexperienced desperate rutting, was so vastly outweighed by the enthusiasm with which he treated your body. By the time you rolled your hips in time to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock deeply enough that you felt the first hot stirs of pleasure in your belly, Ijichi was crumbling around you.
"--please please please...please please please-- oohhhh fuck-- ooohhh fuck a condom, shi--"
Ijichi came with a strangled cry, so lost in his base instinct to cum inside you, that he couldn't help but let his seed spill into you, in ragged, disjointed bucks. You drank in the bliss on Ijichi's face...slowly seeing it morph into horror, and you were quick to reassure him, peppering kisses on his lips and cheeks.
"You're okay, it's okay...I'm on protection, shhh it's okay, I loved it, I loved it--"
"God I forgot all about you--"
"---you didn't, you did so well, and besides, we've got all night--"
"All ni...? Oh...oh. All night," Ijichi smiled, absolutely burning with adoration, as you burned for him. Your eyes flickered up to his head, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes sparkling.
"...your glasses are still on your head, Ijichi."
"Ah! Oh...gosh."
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cutestbow · 2 months
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𝐏𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 - L.H
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - suggestive, and that should be it if not let me know!!, 18+ plus readers only!!
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - in which Fem!reader accidentally puts the wrong perfume on
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You were in a rush so you weren’t really paying attention to what you were doing which now looking back you should have. You and Luke were getting ready to go out and celebrate with the team after their win against the Blues, if you guys wanted to be there on time you would’ve had to leave right this second. “Luke, would you give me a second?” You shouted trying to put your belongings in your purse.
You don’t recall putting perfume on before he started rushing you, so you quickly grabbed one of the small glass bottles of perfume that your friend had gifted you for your birthday a few months ago and putting it in your purse. Once you and Luke finally got out the house and on the road you had completely forgotten about the perfume until you guys were sat at a red light, You pulled the little pink glass bottle out of your bag popping the lid off without looking at the label and rubbing it on your neck and wrist.
a few minutes after applying the perfume you noticed Luke taking quick glances at you every once and while, but knowing Luke you didn’t think anything of it. Once you guys got out of the car and started making your way to the doors of the bar you felt Luke’s hand wrap around your arm pulling you closer to him. “Luke!” You gasped due to his nose poking your neck.
“what is that?” He asked pulling you closer then you already were
“what?” You questioned looking up at him confused.
“That smell, did you get new perfume?” He asks grabbing your wrist and smelling it.
“No?, I’ve had this one for a while, why do you not like it?” You asked frowning up at him.
“I love it” he says kissing your cheek then trailing down your neck.
“Luke!” You exclaim pushing his head away from you neck and pulling him inside the bar quickly being greeted by the team, some shouting and some quickly grabbing Luke and taking him somewhere else. You watch as Luke turns his head and winks at you. What has gotten into him tonight you thought.
Later on you decided to sit at the bar with some of the wags and girlfriends of some of the players. “Damn, you smell good.” one of the wags spoke up causing your cheeks to turn a shade of pink. before you could even respond you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and a head hiding in the crook of your neck, “hi baby,” Luke whispered in your ear.
“Hi lukey.” You responded running your fingers through his curls.
“You smell so good,” he said kissing your neck softly and smirking when he feels you shiver underneath him.
“Luke,” you laugh nervously trying to push him away eventually giving up when he doesn’t move but instead slides his hand from your waist to your thighs rubbing them gently, causing your breath to get caught in your throat.
You hear Jack call for him and his hands stop. “Let the girl breathe for Christ sake.” Jack laughs pulling Luke away from you. You watch as jack drags Luke back over to their little corner of the bar before turning back around smiling to yourself after the little encounter with Luke.
“Pheromone.” You hear one of the wags say causing you to snap out of your thoughts and look at the older woman as she looks as if she just solved a puzzle.
“What?” You say confused.
“It’s pheromone, here let me see the perfume you used” she said holding her hand out, and you quickly obliged fishing for the little glass bottle in your purse handing it to her, she laughed confusing you even more.
“What is it?” You asked genuinely confused.
“This perfume, it has pheromone in it” she says pointing to the bottle.
“Oh, what is that?” You asked cheeks turning pink out of embarrassment not knowing if it was a dumb question or not.
She sighs but continues to explain “it’s a kind of chemical that triggers social responses in people the responses mostly being attraction, arousal, sexual desire.. and lucky you, you got the exact one, just for luring men in.” she says smirking at you causing you to hide your face as your cheeks burned red.
“Oh no,” you say mentally cursing yourself. It all made sense now, why Luke was being so clingy and touchy.
“Yep” she says giggling a bit, “your in for a night” she laughs as your face gets redder than it already is.
A few hours later your still sat at the bar talking to another wag a different on this time when two arms barricade where your sat, you turn around meeting a smirking luke.
“Hi baby,” he smiles looking down at you
You let out a long sigh before responding “hi Lukey” you say quietly.
“Ready to go home?” He asks tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your waist drawing random shapes.
“Mhm.” you respond nodding softly.
“Words baby,” he says stopping his movements.
“Yes I’m ready to go home.” you say resting your hand on his arm
“Good girl” his response shooting straight down to your core as he wraps his hand around your neck pulling you into a kiss.
The kiss wasn’t like a regular kiss you guys have here and there, no, this was a desire filled kiss. You pulled away nervously before it could get any further.
“C’mon” he says moving out your way letting you get up before resting his hand on the small of your back pulling you closer to him.
And as you two walked out the bar you knew this was going to be a long night
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love-bitesx · 11 months
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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader
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summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!
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“is it home-time already, darlin’?”
there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.
“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.
“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.
“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.
it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;
“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”
his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.
laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.
he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.
it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.
you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~
“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.
“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.
“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”
“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.
“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.
“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.
you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.
his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.
deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.
“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.
“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.
a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.
“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.
“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.
“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.
“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.
hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.
it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.
when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.
after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.
“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.
stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.
shit.
you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?
grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.
“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.
“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.
wait, above?
craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.
“spider-man?”
and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.
“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”
“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”
“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.
“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.
“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.
“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.
“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”
“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”
ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.
“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”
his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.
he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.
“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”
“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”
“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.
his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.
“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.
“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.
“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.
you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.
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“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.
“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.
“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”
the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.
“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”
“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.
he always did hate consistency, anyway.
“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.
“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.
“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.
“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.
“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.
turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.
it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.
he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.
but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.
he was fucked. well and truly.
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“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.
“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”
your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.
stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.
“what’s up?” you questioned.
“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.
you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.
“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”
it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.
“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.
“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.
untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.
“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”
and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?
shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.
insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.
“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.
gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.
“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.
“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.
“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”
he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.
“are you o—“
“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.
it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.
without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.
your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.
“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.
embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.
he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.
his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.
pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.
“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”
you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.
“like, a lot.”
he kissed you again. and again.
a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!
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puckinghischier · 14 days
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Nervous
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack
summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day
notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌
[2.6k]
~
Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during nationals games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.
Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.
Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.
“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.
You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.
You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.
“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.
You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.
Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.
At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.
“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.
“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.
Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.
Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.
“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.
“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.
“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.
“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”
Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.
“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.
“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”
That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.
So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.
He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.
Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.
“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.
“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”
“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.
“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.
“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.
“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”
Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.
“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.
“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.
“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.
“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”
“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.
Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.
Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.
As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?
Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.
Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.
He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.
As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.
You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.
The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.
As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.
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punkshort · 2 months
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somewhere to run | 11. austin pt.2
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You go back to Austin for another meeting with Madeline, but this time, you're alone, and you meet someone from Joel's past.
Chapter Warnings: language, some mild hints at smut but nothing explicit, angst, hurt/comfort, discussions/recollections of past DV/SA, insecurity issues, jealousy, panic attack
WC: 6.5K
Series Masterlist
Something was wrong.
You hadn't seen or heard from Joel since the diner, and that was three whole days ago. He didn't normally stop by on the weekends, but he had gotten in the habit of sending you a text here or there. Things like how was the rest of your shift? Or watched this movie tonight with Sarah, you would like it. And sure, sometimes it would be more along the lines of can't stop thinking about you, what are you wearing?
You had both stayed true to your word. The two of you hadn't had sex since the time in his truck a few weeks ago. But some of your texts have crossed the line a couple times. And yes, there might have been one small phone call that ended with your thighs clenched around your hand and him groaning quietly on the other end, but that didn't count. You weren't dating. You weren't together. And unless your phone was tapped, nobody would ever know.
Looking down at your phone, you frowned. The last message you sent him wasn't even delivered. And it was already past his usual time to stop in for lunch. Tomorrow was your meeting with Madeline. You were sure he would want to talk to you about it before you left.
It was very unlike him.
"Maria?" you called out when you happened to catch her walking by the counter.
"What's up?" she asked, carrying an armful of menus.
"No Joel today?" you tried to ask as casually as possible.
If she was suspicious, she didn't let on.
"Oh, yeah. He's out of town. We're watching Sarah til he gets back tomorrow evening," she said, looking over her shoulder when an older couple walked in looking for a table. "Sorry, gotta go," she said, then hurried towards the hostess stand to greet the customers.
Out of town? Why wouldn't he have told you?
Because you aren't dating, you idiot.
Still, it bothered you. You told him you wanted to take control of your life and do things for yourself. Did that upset him? Maybe he took it the wrong way. You had still hoped he would give you advice, some guidance on how the process works, what to expect next.
You were probably reading too much into it. Maybe there was a family emergency.
It wasn't until almost midnight when your phone pinged next to your bed. Groggily, you reached over and squinted at the screen, then opened your eyes wide when you saw his name.
Joel: Sorry, something came up out of town. I'll hopefully be back late tomorrow. Let me know how your meeting goes.
You stared at the screen, reading and rereading his text. Hopefully be back tomorrow? What was going on? Why was he responding so late?
Probably because he knew you would be asleep and wouldn't bother him with a reply.
You put your phone back on your charger without answering and pulled your comforter back up to your chin as you stared blankly at the ceiling.
You were spiraling and you knew it. You were letting your insecurities get the best of you again. There was no reason to think Joel was icing you out. He was probably just busy. You couldn't expect him to spend all his time worrying about you.
There was nothing you could do about it now, short of calling him and outright asking him what's going on, so you did your best to push it out of your mind. Closing your eyes, you tried to will yourself to sleep before hitting the road early the next morning.
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It was very early when you got up, so you decided to still not answer his text from the night before. If he was up that late, he was probably still sleeping.
At first, you were glad for the distraction. Driving the two hours to Austin kept your hands away from your phone, although you would be lying if you didn't hope to have another message from Joel when you stopped to use the restroom, just to be sorely disappointed.
There was hardly any traffic so you arrived a little ahead of schedule. You parked in the same parking ramp you and Joel parked in last time and walked the few blocks to the law firm, grateful for a few minutes of fresh air to clear your head. When you entered the lobby, you were greeted by the same two receptionists as last time, and the same one as before waved you over with a smile. She didn't appear to recognize you when you told her your name, and as you watched her scroll on her computer, a nasty part of you wondered if she would remember Joel had he been there with you.
She probably would. Joel's effect on the women he encounters wasn't lost on you. He practically had the whole town wrapped around his finger back home. It hadn't bothered you much lately, but something about his sudden disappearance and lack of contact was just bringing out all your worst thoughts. You shook your head as you sat down, trying to make the thoughts scatter. Pulling out a small notebook and pen, you flipped open the cover and reviewed the contact information you had given Madeline's secretary, along with a couple questions you wanted to ask, but your eye kept wandering to your phone, as if you were trying to force it to light up with his name.
You heard Madeline's soft voice call for you and you lifted your head to greet her with a smile. Clutching your notebook and pen in one hand and purse in the other, you stood to follow her out of the lobby. You made sure to shoot the receptionist who helped you a friendly smile as you walked past, feeling guilty for having such catty thoughts about her when she didn't even do anything wrong.
"So, I reached out to the people on your list. All except your mother, like you requested," Madeline said, jumping right in when you sat down in her office. You liked that about her. She didn't waste any time.
"I sent them texts warning them you would be in touch and they all seemed happy to help," you told her, and she nodded.
"Very much so, but I really do feel like having your mother testify would help. Mothers are great at garnering sympathy from a jury."
You chewed nervously on your fingernail as you thought about it.
"Besides my cousin, she's the only one who I confided in the most," you began, dropping your hand to your lap. "But she never seemed to see it the same way I did. If Patrick hit me, she thought it was because I was talking back or pushing his buttons. She would defend him, telling me 'he works so hard, he deals with so much stress'. And I'm sure you saw what she would say about the sexual abuse," you said, motioning towards the papers on her desk.
Madeline sighed and looked down at a copy of your statement.
"Yes, I did see that. Can I ask you a difficult question?" You let out a dry laugh.
"Just one?" you asked, and she smiled.
"Did you father ever abuse her or you growing up?" she asked gently. You sat back in your chair, deep in thought.
"Well, definitely not me, but I don't know about her. If he did, it was behind closed doors."
"Was there anything that you maybe saw or heard to make you think that would be a possibility?" she pushed.
"I mean, my dad has a temper. He would shout a lot, fly off the handle over little things, but I don't remember him ever calling either one of us names or hitting my mom."
Madeline nodded as she jotted down a note on her legal pad.
"I'm just trying to find a reason why she would think the way Patrick treated you was acceptable," she explained.
"Oh, right," you said, racking your brain for anything that would give an insight into your mom's response. "I never thought to ask. I was so wrapped up in my own shit, it never occurred to me that she might have been going through something, too." That guilt that never seemed to go away began to stir deep in your belly once again.
"Well, I'll do whatever you're comfortable with," Madeline said, tapping her pen lightly on her legal pad. "If you'd like me to reach out, I will. If you prefer to talk to her first or leave her out of it entirely, I'll stand by your choice. But in my professional opinion, I think it's worth exploring, and if I don't think she would make a good witness once we talk, we can always let it go."
"She doesn't even know where I am," you said softly, more to yourself than anything. "We obviously don't have a very good relationship. When I left, I didn't tell anybody where I was going. I only told my cousin I was leaving so my family wouldn't think I died or was kidnapped or something."
Madeline nodded, listening closely. You loved that about her: you always felt like you were being heard whenever you spoke.
"Why don't you sleep on it and let me know what you decide," she said, and you agreed, watching her flip through her other notes. "As far as the divorce petition goes, Patrick didn't respond. No surprise there."
"What does that mean?" you asked, inching forward in your chair.
"He still is allowed some time to acknowledge it. Specifically, 30 days since he was served, so he has a few more days. If I still don't hear anything, we can file for a default divorce. If we do that, Patrick will give up his rights. Obviously beneficial for you, definitely not for him, so I anticipate a response at that point."
"Okay, that sounds good," you said, feeling a bit of relief. Regardless of how this will go, the end will be the same: you will be free.
There was a soft knock at the door behind you, causing Madeline to look up in surprise, then smiled and waved in the guest. Turning around in your seat, you saw a tall, beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and perfectly styled curly, dark hair enter the room. Madeline stood from her chair, and you followed as Madeline reached an arm out to the woman to introduce her.
"This is Michelle, she's one of the firm's partners."
Michelle shook your hand, her grip firm, and she gave you a dazzling smile.
"Oh, wow, it's so nice to meet you," you said. "I can't thank you enough for taking on my case. This is life changing for me, you have no idea."
"Don't mention it, we're happy to help," she replied, her smile still plastered across her face.
"I didn't realize you were in the office today?" Madeline asked, pulling Michelle's attention from you.
"I was supposed to be in court but the guy ended up pleading guilty last minute. Love when that happens," she said to you with a wink, and you smiled. She glanced around the office quickly before turning back to you and Madeline. "Just you today?"
You paused at first, not understanding what she was asking, and then Madeline stepped in.
"Joel's out of town at the moment," she said to Michelle, and you couldn't stop yourself from frowning. How would Madeline know that?
"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping to run into him, I haven't seen him in a while. Thought we could catch up," Michelle said, another wide smile spreading across her face, revealing perfect, white teeth. Catch up?
Madeline smiled back but you thought you could see some tension behind her eyes. Or maybe your insecurities were getting the best of you, yet again.
"How do you know Joel?" you asked, and hoped you didn't come off as defensive as you felt.
Michelle gave a soft chuckle and leaned against Madeline's desk.
"So sorry, you're probably confused. I'm sure he didn't mention it because he didn't want you to feel indebted to him since we took your case pro bono under his suggestion," she said, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep up. "We were together for a long time. Almost got married, actually, but then I got a promotion out here with a different law firm and he didn't want to move... I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear about ancient history," she said with a laugh.
You tried your best to smile in return but you were fairly certain you couldn't move. You felt like the walls were closing in and you could barely hear what she was saying. Fortunately, Madeline swooped in and distracted Michelle while you tried to get your bearings. Slumping back down in your chair, you tried to remember how to breathe without looking like you ran a marathon. How could he not tell you about this?
Glancing back up at her, you examined her features as she spoke with Madeline. High cheekbones, curly hair, athletic build... the question slipped out before you even had a chance to think.
"You must be Sarah's mom."
The two women stopped talking immediately. Michelle looked down at you in your chair and finally you saw that perfect smile crack. Something told you bringing up Sarah was a sore subject, and that nasty, jealous part of you felt good.
Michelle forced a wider smile and tucked an imaginary stray hair behind her ear.
"Yes, actually. I didn't realize he told you about Sarah," she said, her eyes drifting back to Madeline, who just stared right back at her.
"You look so much alike," you told her, your throat tightening. "You must be so proud of her."
Another awkward silence filled the room.
Michelle looked like she was about to reply when her cell phone rang, and you could have sworn she looked relieved.
"I'm sorry, I have to take this. It was a pleasure to meet you," she said, and you actually managed a small smile. The two of you listened to Michelle's high heels click loudly against the wooden floor as she made her way out, answering the phone with an authoritative tone when she stepped back out into the hall.
You and Madeline looked at one another for a moment, each of you not knowing what to say.
"Does she know about me and Joel?" you blurted out. "I mean, you know... that we used to have a personal relationship?"
Madeline chuckled and took her glasses off.
"I didn't think she needed to know," she said, offering you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know she would be here today," she added with a sigh.
"Did..." you swallowed but your throat felt like sand. "Was my case picked because of their relationship?"
"Oh, no. Not directly, anyway," she said, shaking her head.
"What do you mean?"
"The partners vote on which cases are picked pro bono, so they all have to agree. I can't say one way or another if she helped sway their decision, but I do know the partners in this firm care about helping people. They see cases like yours and they truly want to help. So regardless, just know they are good people who want to see you get the justice you deserve."
You leaned back in your chair, stunned. Would Joel have asked his ex to do you a favor? And then not even tell you? Is that why he's been icing you out? Maybe he was having second thoughts about your relationship. Maybe he changed his mind but can't figure out how to let you down gently.
Stop spiraling. He's not icing you out.
Oh, but it really felt like he was in that moment, and you could feel your insecurities winning the fight.
The last few minutes of your appointment was spent reviewing what you had discussed that day and a reminder to think about the topic of your mother, but all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that building as soon as possible. Once you finally got back to the safety of your little car in the dark parking garage, you finally let the tears fall.
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The drive home was long and quiet. Your mind was still spinning with the information about Michelle, and as hard as you tried to put it out of your mind, it kept creeping back in against your will. She was pretty. She was so pretty and smart and fit. She reminded you a little bit of Nikki - beautiful, tall, confident. They seemed so different from you. What in the world did Joel see in you if Michelle and Nikki were the types of women he usually went after?
Your phone began to ring in your bag. Reaching over to the passenger's seat, you rifled through your purse blindly, eyes still on the road, fingers searching and finally finding your phone.
You had to do a double take when you saw it was Joel calling.
Staring at the road, you listened to your phone ring over and over, your finger hovering over the little green button on the touch screen, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It finally stopped ringing and with a sigh of relief, you dropped it into your cup holder.
You knew if you had answered the phone, you would have been irrational. You needed time to think, so you slid the bar down on the side of your phone to silence your calls.
Where the hell was he, anyway? Why wouldn't he have told you he was leaving? And why did Madeline know? If he had time to tell Madeline, he could have had time to tell you, too. You wanted to ask her, but in your hurry to get out after meeting Michelle, you forgot.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your phone light up in the cupholder, and because you had no self control, you picked it up to take a quick peek.
Joel: How did everything go with Maddy?
You scoffed and tossed your phone back into your purse so you wouldn't be tempted to look again until you got home. To force your mind off it, you spent the rest of the drive thinking about Madeline's request to ask your mother to testify. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to call her. Maybe her views have changed. Perhaps she gained some clarity on your situation since you ran. You obviously wouldn't have done that unless things were really bad. Maybe she just didn't realize the severity of the situation.
You really wished you could run this by Joel, but that stubborn part of you absolutely refused.
By the time you arrived home, your muscles sore from sitting in the car for so long, you had decided you would give your mom a call. Just to test the waters. And depending on how it went, you would decide if you wanted to ask her to testify.
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Joel sat in a rental car, staring out the window blankly while he fidgeted with his phone. Why weren't you answering your phone? Maybe you were driving and you couldn't hear it. He was fighting the urge to call Maddy to see if you had made it to Austin in one piece. The only thing holding him back was his concern that she would pick up on something in his voice when he spoke about you. He had told Maddy the two of you were over, and at the time, it was true. But now the lines were blurred and it was becoming difficult for him to hide his feelings. It must be written all over his face. Even you could see it, which terrified him at first, but then you climbed into his lap in his truck and his fear melted away, leaving only his exposed heart and his very real, very intense feelings for you on full display.
Those feelings were exactly why he found himself on the seedy side of downtown Philadelphia, staring at subsidized housing with sirens wailing in the distance. He pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket and checked the address again before tucking his gun into the back of his pants and sliding his shield into his pocket, then opening the car door and stepping out.
It was colder in Pennsylvania than he expected. It wasn't quite snowing, but the wind carried tiny flecks of white. Not enough to accumulate, but enough where he felt the cold deep in his bones. He walked up the path towards the housing unit, glancing around to confirm he was alone before looking back down at the paper in his hand.
Nina Hoffman.
He approached the first unit and scanned the numbers on the doors before moving on, then stopping when he found the correct number and knocking firmly on the door. He turned around, watching as two young men eyed him suspiciously as they walked by. Once they were out of sight, Joel knocked again, louder this time.
"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, then rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up as he waited. He was about to give up when he heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. He straightened up and stepped back, then gave his most charming smile to the small pair of eyes that peered out at him through the crack in the door.
"Afternoon," Joel said with a nod. "Would you happen to be Nina?"
The eyes raked up and down his body and stopped at the bulge on his back.
"Who's asking?" her raspy voice replied.
"Sorry, miss. My name's Joel. Joel Miller. You don't know me, but I think we have someone in common," he replied, her eyes still glued to the gun he had concealed under his coat.
"Who?"
Joel took a deep breath, bracing for her reaction.
"Sergeant Patrick-"
She went to slam the door in his face but he was faster. He stuck his foot in the door as she kept pushing back, trying to apply enough pressure to make him move, but he just wedged himself into the crack further.
"I ain't who you think I am," he said, but Nina ignored him.
"Get the fuck out of here! I dropped the charges!" she cried out, and Joel tried to shush her until he realized fights like this likely happened all the time in areas like this and wouldn't draw as much attention from neighbors.
"I wanna help you! There's more victims!" he told her through gritted teeth as she slammed the door against his leg over and over. At last, she stopped yelling and paused, and he took a deep breath. "I believe you," he continued. "And I think I can help you."
"Move your leg," she told him, and Joel dropped his head in defeat.
"Please, just hear me out-"
"I will. You gotta move your leg so I can undo the goddamn chain," she replied, sounding annoyed.
"Oh, right," Joel said, then pulled his leg out from the crack in the door. She shut it and he heard the metal chain slide through the lock before she twisted the knob again, opening the door wider and revealing herself for the first time. She looked to be around your age, blonde hair that looked like it needed to be washed, and blue eyes that were bloodshot.
"You just gonna stand there or you wanna come inside?" she said, turning on her heel and walking into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. He glanced around behind him once again, still reeling from her change in demeanor, before stepping inside and shutting the door.
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You had been on the phone with your mom for nearly thirty minutes as you stared up blankly at your ceiling, listening to her drone on and on about your aunt and her newest boyfriend. Maybe you should have waited until you were more well rested to call her. The drive back from Austin was exhausting, but in an effort to avoid calling Joel, you called your mother instead. Once she got over the initial surprise, she launched into catching you up on all the drama you had missed, and you were beginning to wonder if she even gave a shit about your well-being. Not once had she asked why you left without a word or even how you were doing. She either didn't care or she already assumed the answers for herself. You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion or all the information that had been thrown at you that day, but for once you decided to stand up for yourself and fucking say something.
"Mom, I called to talk to you. It's important," you said, cutting her off, and she paused on the other end of the phone.
"I figured there was a reason you finally reached out," she replied. You picked up on the edge to her voice and you rolled your eyes. Great start.
"It's about Patrick," you began, not letting her tone sway you.
"What about him, sweetie? Is he doing okay?"
You had to take a deep breath and steady yourself before replying. Is Patrick doing okay?? What about you?
"Actually, no. He's in jail," you said, and she gasped. "For attacking me and another cop in town."
"Attacking? What do you mean?" she asked, and you scoffed.
"Attacking me like he's been doing for years, Mom," you said, sliding your eyes shut.
"Oh honey, you didn't actually call the police on him, did you? I told you, you need to watch what you say. You always have a way of pushing people's buttons, ever since you were little-"
"Mom! Stop!" you shouted, and she immediately went quiet. A dull beep echoed in your ear and you pulled your phone away to look at the screen. Joel was calling again. You clenched your jaw and rejected the call before putting the phone back up to your ear. "This is serious, okay? He raped me. He hits me and emotionally abuses me and I've had enough. I'm pressing charges and we're going to trial soon, and my lawyer wanted me to reach out to you and see if you would be willing to testify on my behalf."
The words rushed out of you faster than you expected, but once they were out in the open, you felt a wave of relief, but the dead silence on the other end of the call made you feel nervous again.
"He has his whole career in front of him. You're really doing this?" she said quietly, and if you didn't know any better, she sounded mad.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
"Everything with you is so dramatic," she said with a sigh. "I don't know what fairy tale you have in your head, but life is tough sometimes. Marriage is tough. It's hard work but you made a commitment to him. His job is very stressful. The last thing he wants is a wife at home who expects flowers and sunshine every time he opens the door."
Your mouth hung open in shock as you listened to her prattle on.
"He went down there to fight for you and this is how you repay him?" she continued as the tears began to burn the backs of your eyes.
"How did you-"
"He provides for you, doesn't he? You don't even have to work. All you need to do is be a homemaker and a mother. Do you know how many women would love to be in your shoes?"
"I never said I wanted any of that," you said, and you heard her scoff on the other end.
"Of course you don't. You've always had some silly fantasies in your head but this is real life. Relationships aren't like the movies. Men aren't looking to trip over themselves to make you happy. Marriage takes work. It's a give and take, and all you ever do is take."
You closed your eyes as the tears began to fall. She was wrong. You wanted to scream it at her, rub it in her face that someone was willing to trip over themselves for you.
"So I take it you won't be testifying on my behalf," you said after a moment of silence.
"You got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out of it."
Then the line went dead.
You dropped the phone next to you onto the couch and sobbed into the palms of your hands. What did you need to say to make your mother understand? Was there even a point in trying anymore? Maybe Madeline was right. Something must have happened to your mother to make her think this way, because you knew now that love wasn't meant to cause pain.
A month ago, you probably would have believed her. But now, after seeing what Joel was willing to do for you, you knew better.
Suddenly, you felt foolish for reacting the way you did about Michelle. Regret clawed at your ribs as you thought about all the ignored calls and texts from him. Sitting up on the couch, you wiped your nose with the back of your hand and picked up your phone. With shaky fingers, you tapped on his contact and dialed his number, chewing on your bottom lip as the phone rang and rang until you got his voicemail. You hung up without leaving a message, the guilt tearing you in two.
Joel did so much for you and you repaid him by throwing a tantrum because of an old relationship.
As you turned on your TV, flipping through the channels to try to find some mindless show to distract you, hoping Joel would give you another chance and call you back, you thought about your conversation with your mother.
Maybe she was right. Maybe you were too dramatic. Selfish girl.
You just hoped you could still fix it and didn't ruin the only good thing you had going for you.
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Loud pounding on your front door jolted you awake with your heart slamming in your chest. Fear and confusion ripped through you as you sat up and blinked quickly, looking around. You fell asleep on your couch, your TV playing infomercials now as the clock on the wall ticked closer to three in the morning.
The pounding on the door picked up again and you scrambled to your feet. Your first thought was Patrick, but logic slowly seeped into your brain when you remembered he was in a jail cell in Austin.
Gripping your phone tightly in your hand, you cautiously made your way down the stairs, ears straining to listen for any type of hint as to who was on the other side of the door.
You opened the door a crack and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Joel waiting.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed out as he rubbed his chest absentmindedly. You opened the door all the way and sleepily waved him inside. "What the hell? Why aren't you answerin' any of my calls?" he asked, and for the first time you began to pick up on the worry in his voice.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, looking down at your phone, now noticing he had called and texted you several times since you had fallen asleep. "I tried calling you earlier-"
"I was gettin' on a plane," he said, shutting the door behind him before scooping you into his arms for a hug. "You fuckin' scared me," he whispered into your hair, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"I'm sorry," you said again, your voice breaking this time. He pulled back and cupped your face, searching your eyes and realizing you were on the verge of tears.
"What happened? Why have you been cryin'?" he asked you softly, his thumbs brushing gently underneath your swollen eyes. You dropped your gaze and shook your head with shame. "C'mon, let's go upstairs, we gotta talk 'bout what's been goin' on."
He tugged on your hand and led you up the steps, tears still burning in your eyes as you tried to hold them back, your eyes scratchy and dry from already crying too much earlier that evening.
"It's so late," you began, but you could see his body was practically vibrating with energy. "Did your plane just get in?"
"Yeah," he said, shrugging off his coat as he began to pace your living room. You sunk back down into your couch, pulling your knees up to your chest as you watched him dart back and forth.
"Where were you, Joel?" you finally asked softly, and he paused in the middle of your living room. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving town? I was so worried-"
"There wasn't enough time. I had to figure out arrangements for Sarah and reschedule that meeting with her teacher at school... it was all too fast," he rambled, not catching your eye as he spoke.
"You couldn't at least send a text when you were at the airport or something?" you asked, not allowing him to make up excuses. "I had to find out from Maria you were gone. Even Madeline knew-"
"Madeline?" he repeated, finally dragging his eyes up to meet yours. "What'd she say?"
You huffed and crossed your arms, trying to fight the spiteful response that was clawing its way to your lips.
"She didn't tell me anything," you said, watching his face carefully. His gaze drifted away, lost in thought before you added "I just happened to be there when Michelle asked where you were."
Joel's eyes snapped back up to yours in an instant and he felt his stomach twist. You could see the myriad of emotions flitting across his face as he processed what you just said.
"What?" he whispered, his throat tight, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
"Michelle," you repeated calmly. "Sarah's mom."
His eyes squeezed shut and he rubbed them aggressively with the heels of his palms. He could feel the heat rising from his chest and up his neck, and he tried to take deep breaths to quell the panic, but it was no use.
"Why-" he began to ask but he was finding it difficult to speak. He bent forward at the waist, his hands on his knees as he shook his head from side to side, trying to shake the sudden dizzy spell. He had been up for too long. He didn't eat enough. The altitude from the plane... something was making him feel faint.
"Joel?" you asked, standing up when you noticed something was wrong. You reached your hands out to grip his shoulders, trying to steady him as he struggled to drag in air. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he rasped, but he weakly slumped to the floor in your living room. "Just... dizzy."
"Should I call an ambulance?" you asked, your voice higher than usual. You fumbled with your phone but he managed to reach out and grab your arm.
"No, just... water," he told you, and you jumped up, racing to the kitchen for a bottle of water. You shakily unscrewed the cap and joined him on the floor, bringing the bottle to his lips and letting him take slow sips until his vision cleared and his breathing returned to normal.
You nervously watched him, your phone still ready to call for paramedics if he passed out, but the color slowly began to return to his face the more water he managed to drink. You inched forward, your hands hovering over him, not sure what to do.
"What was that?" you whispered, and he took a deep breath and shook his head.
"I don't know."
You nodded, your lips forming a tight line as you kept a close eye on him. Minutes ticked by as you waited for him to do something or say something, too worried to say anything yourself and risk causing another episode. Scooting closer to him on the floor, you rubbed his back, and his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into your touch.
"Why was Michelle there?" he finally asked, eyes still shut.
"She came into my meeting with Madeline. She wanted to meet me and she asked about you," you told him, dropping the attitude now.
"But why was she... there? She doesn't work there, she works at a firm on the other side of the city," he said, finally opening his eyes and then it dawned on you: of course he didn't keep her a secret from you. He didn't even know himself.
"She's a partner there," you said, swallowing nervously as the guilt gnawed away at your insides. "She said you didn't tell me so I wouldn't feel indebted to you since they took my case pro bono."
"What?" he asked angrily as he furrowed his brow. "That's not true. I had no fuckin' clue, you gotta believe me-"
"I believe you," you told him, your hand sliding to the back of his neck. His gaze drifted to a blank spot on the wall as he struggled to catch up with the new information you just dumped on him.
"No wonder you were ignorin' me," he mumbled, and you felt your face heat up, embarrassed for acting like such a child and not just asking him about it in the first place.
"I'm so sorry, Joel," you said, tears welling up in your eyes again. "I really did try to call you earlier. I should have heard you out before getting all jealous and nasty."
"Don't be jealous," he said, locking eyes with you again. "Nothin' to be jealous 'bout. That ship with her sailed years ago." He brought his hand up to gently pinch your chin and gave you a small smile. "Haven't even spoken to her in years. I got no idea why she'd even want to see me."
Leaning forward, you gently slotted your lips over his, breathing in deep and inhaling his familiar scent. The same scent you chased after it faded from your sheets.
"You gotta talk to me, baby," he reminded you quietly after he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours.
"I know, I'm sorry," you told him, a single tear trickling down your cheek. "Today was so awful and I just missed you so much."
"C'mere," he murmured, pulling you into his lap, your face burying itself into his neck.
"Where were you?" you asked him again, realizing for the first time he never answered you, and he took a deep breath.
"Philadelphia."
Your eyes went wide and you flung yourself upright in his lap.
"What? Why?"
He caressed your chin and gave you a sad look, his eyes red and tired as his shoulders weakly slumped forward.
"There's other victims."
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lolokouhm · 7 months
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thinking about Geto, who's a really good driver. and it's not like he does some crazy shit on the road, no - he's just so calm and relaxed, tapping his fingertips in the rhythm of some slowed down remix of an obnoxiously sexual song you've decided to listen to. the car is quite old, but he made some adjustments to the speakers, so the sound coming out is full and deep, despite the fact that you're using some shitty bluetooth device to keep your phone connected.
thinking about Geto, who likes driving, but completely adores driving with you in the passenger's seat. it's just another night, same story - he texts you, then pulls up, you get inside and then the two of you drive somewhere, blasting the songs you've found on some weird playlists. these nights feel a little bit like a fever dream - you don't talk much, except for some short updates on each other's life. until you get hungry.
thinking about Geto, who quietly laughs when you announce that you're going to die if you won't get some chicken strips RIGHT NOW, so he drives to the closest KFC on the petrol station in the middle of nowhere. is his car going to be full of fries later on? probably yes. you're not the cleanest eater, but he doesn't mind. you love food and you always have this spark in your eyes when the chicken box is finally on your lap.
thinking about Geto, who turns right from the main road, just to slowly drive into the woods - this weird place that scares the shit out of you every time you drive next to it. you shiver and pout under the checked blanket you've been keeping in his car, but then he suddenly takes his hand off the wheel and puts it on your thigh and it's not that scary anymore.
thinking about Geto, who stops the car in the middle of nowhere, just so you could leave the damn chicken and get right there on his lap, complaining about the temperature in this autumn night, shivering, freezing even, but still completely willing to let him take off every piece of clothing you're wearing. his fingers do it almost automatically - he knows all of these. the hoodie you spilled the coke on last friday. the t-shirt with some rock band's logo you've never even listened to. the bra, which deserves some respect for still being able to hold on, despite the fact he's ripped it off of you so many times.
thinking about Geto, breathing faster and faster with each and every thrust, every kiss, every scratch on his back. the way you're breathing right into the crook of his neck, still shivering, but not from the cold. your lower lip tastes like this chicken and fries but you're still the most delicious thing he's ever had. his slender fingers tapping on the skin on your hips, just like on that wheel before, soft but determined to hold you in place when again, you whisper some sweet nonsenses that make his eyes roll.
thinking about Geto, who holds you tight and doesn't want to drive you back home. not tonight. not ever again.
masterlist ❤️
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totalswag · 2 months
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unfold — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note sorry for not posting as much with fics, life got a little to serious for a moment. huge thank you for 600+ followers you guys are absolutely amazing ugh. this idea came in mind randomly one day and rafe little unfolding with his enemy is...
summary you have been rafe camerons shit list for a long time now. what happens when you attend a party at tannyhill and somehow make Rafe cameron fold
warnings mentions of smoking, drinking, cussing, partying
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Rafe Cameron, kook king, as people would say.
He’s one of the most popular people in outer banks. Just hearing his name sends shivers down people's spines. He has girls practically on their knees for him left and right. There’s something about him that captivates them.
But, you don't want to mess with him either. You don’t want to be on his bad side. When he walks into a room, everyone stops and looks at him with fear or wondering what he's gonna do. He loves the fact that he has that effect on others. It helps boost his ego.
Rafe Cameron, on the other hand, has had you on his shitlist for a long time. You enjoy antagonizing and teasing him. You enjoy seeing him furious when you do things that irritate him. People warn you, but you dismiss them since he never does anything about it. He’s never and will never do anything in ways to hurt you physically. 
Rafe’s throwing a party at his house tonight. Of course he didn’t invite you. He knows you’ll show up regardless because that's how you are. Word spreads quickly on the island.
"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here?" stated one of your close friends, Hailey, smiles as she hugged you.
You initially stated that you would not attend a party because you were not in the mood to do anything this weekend other than sit at home and watch movies. However, once you found that Rafe was throwing a party and happened to live down the road from you, you had no choice but to come and make your presence known. 
“Oh well you know me, gotta make my presence known” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink, scanning the room.
“If you wanna find Rafe, I’m pretty sure he’s somewhere in the living room or doing coke out back with the guys” Hailey whispers in your ear, winking.
Hailey is very well aware that you enjoy annoying the crap out of the Cameron boy. She claims it's for her own entertainment. She's waiting for you two to crack because she knows you are into each other but won't confess it.
"Let's go on the dance floor?" You insist as you take her hand in yours and walk her past the crowd to the living room.
The two of you start dancing to the beat of the music. A few people you recognize from school come up, catching you off by surprise. You girls end up dancing with each other for half of the night alongside the crowd.
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick” you whisper in her ear. 
“Okay, be safe” she replies back, squeezing your hand before you start walking away.
You bump into a muscular body on your way to the bathroom, and you look up to Rafe, who is already glaring down at you with a stern expression, as if he's about to argue about the fact that you're at his party. You can sense the tension in his body building. You like it.
A smile forms on your lips, and your pointer finger grips and plays with his chain, "looks like someone isn't happy to see me, huh?" You sarcastically remark, waiting for him to snatch your hand away from his chain.
"My night was going great before I bumped into you, Y/N," he replies with a harsh tone with a slight hint sarcastic, rolling his eyes. 
"Aw, are you not excited to see me?" you cynically pout.
Rafe is trying so hard to go off like he usually does with you. You know how to get under his skin unlike anyone else. He hates that you have that effect on him that just snaps.
"You really don't want to start it with me right now, Y/N," he says harshly and sternly. Looking in his eyes, you can see he's had coke and drank.
"Oh, but I really want to start, Rafe," you remark as you move closer, chests meeting.
You couldn’t help but feel the sexual tension growing between the both of you. This is the first time you are feeling it. You’ve always wondered why he never did anything about your behavior towards him. Actually, no one doesn’t know why, only Rafe does. 
Hailey stood a few feet away, watching the whole thing unfold. She had to remove herself from the large crowd of people around her to watch her best friend.
Before Rafe can respond, Kelce walks up to tell Rafe to go in the backyard because there’s something he needs to show him.
"Oh, hey Y/N, it's good to see you and looking beautiful as always" Kelce smiles giving you a warm hug.
"It's to see you too Kelce and thank you" you reply while pulling away from the hug.
“Nice seeing you Rafe” you wave innocently, smiling, then flipping him off with a straight face.
You both know you’ll run into each other again tonight.
When you make your way back to Hailey, she’s laughing over the interaction she watched. You tell her to shut it before she says anything else. You drag her down the hall into the bathroom to pee and talk about what happened.
“I love seeing you do that to him” Hailey laughs, taking a sip of her drink, jumping on the bathroom sink.
In answer, you grin, lifting your finger and moving it back and forth, "The way he was ready to go off on me but cut off when Kelce told him to go in the backyard made me wanna laugh in his face."
After the bathroom, you both headed into the kitchen to get another drink from the coolers. The kitchen was occupied with people getting drinks or simply standing and talking.
Hailey began talking to this guy she'd been eyeing for a while. 
You lean in to whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna let you be, call or text me if you need anything," and she smiles back, reassuring you she’ll be okay.
You scan the room, unsure of what or who you're looking for. Something inside you tells you to go find Rafe and annoy the living shit out of him. Topper and Kelce noticed you examining the room from afar and approached you. 
The two wave as they approach you, you wave back smiling.
“Hello boys” you smile, “enjoying the party?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink.
The last time you saw Kelce he was drunk but not drunk enough. Now here he is half an hour later crossed.
“Fuck yeah, we are crossed” Kelce chuckles, throwing his head back.
Topper agrees with a nod.
“Oh, I can tell,” you reply.
Topper turns around when he sees Rafe making his way over. The two boys take a step back, revealing you. Rafe stops his tracks, rolling his eyes, tongue runs over his bottom lip, annoyed.
Perfect timing to annoy him.
The two boys let out a chuckle, shaking their heads from the look on Rafe’s furious look. 
Something leads you to take Rafe's hand and lead him to the large crowd. You follow your gut and approach him gently. You gaze up to him, who is already staring at you with such intensity that it sends shivers down your spine. You grab his hand in yours and bring him towards the large crowd in the living room.
Topper and Kelce’s jaws dropped when they watched Rafe follow you into the crowd. For one, Rafe never does that with you, ever. They give each other the look of you just saw that too look.
"Please tell me Rafe just let her do that?" Topper blurts with confusion spread all over his face.
Kelce rubbed his eye to make sure he was seeing the same thing as Topper.
When you come to stop, turn around and face him. You can tell he's irritated that you dragged him to the center of the dance floor. But you're wondering why he let you do it.
"Why did you lead me here, Y/N?" Rafe questions.
"I wanna dance, Rafe, and you are gonna dance with me," you chuckle, grabbing both Rafe's hands and resting them on your waist while maintaining eye contact with him.
He shrugs his shoulders, turns your body around, making you gasp, catching you off guard. Now your back is against his front. 
You tilt your head back, swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music while his hands rest themselves on your waist.
As you continue to dance to the music, Rafe leans down to your ear, “you are playing a dangerous game with me, Y/N” the thrill in your blood went through the roof by his comment.
With a smirk, you close your eyes and place your left hand on the back of his neck, drawing his head down so you could whisper in his ear. The sound of his steady breathing may be felt against your skin.
"What kind of game are you implying?" you asked, touching the ends of his hair behind his head.
"C'mon, you can't tell me you haven't been enjoying this, Y/N? You know what I mean," he says, knowing what he means as he’s directing both hands from your waist to the center of your stomach and back to your waist, attempting to catch you off guard, but you refuse to let it happen.
You know that he knows you love annoying the shit out of him but he can tell by the way your body reacts to his touch that has him a little intrigued.
In reaction, you back yourself into his front, drawing a sigh from his lips before spinning around, stepping on your tiptoes and putting your arms around his neck.
You feel something hard pressing against your stomach. In that moment you knew where the night was gonna take you both.
You two make eye contact.
You notice his eyes looking at your lips then your eyes, going back and forth.
“If you’re gonna look at my lips you should just kiss them” you remark with sass which didn’t make him quite happy but you didn’t care.
He leans closer, and your faces get inches closer and closer. At this time, both of your breaths are increasing, but no one is moving. You lean forward and extend the tip of your tongue, allowing it to touch Rafe's upper lip.
Rafe's demeanor shifted, which concerned you a little because you'd seen how aggressive he can be but he'd never hurt you. He grabs your wrist and brings you through the enormous home and upstairs to his bedroom, which is down a hallway and out of hearing. 
As you passed past people, they were taken aback to find you holding hands with Rafe Cameron as you walked the stairs. You can imagine the amount of discussion and publishing on social media.
"You never know when to shut up and take a hint, little one," he says with his back to you, locking his bedroom door before turning around backing you up against the edge of his bed.
"I actually do know when to shut up, mister," you respond, still standing firm. 
Rafe catches you off guard by pushing you onto his bed, opening your legs so he can stand between them, and smoothly moving his hands up and down your thighs. 
"Oh, do you, Princess? Let's see how that goes while you're screaming my name beneath me.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
sounds like a date
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.
"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.
"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.
That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.
He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.
Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.
So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.
"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"
"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.
"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.
Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.
Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.
"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.
Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.
"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.
Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.
It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.
It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.
Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."
"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.
"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."
"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.
"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"
Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.
Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.
He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.
Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.
"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.
"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."
"Oh?" Steve froze.
Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.
"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."
Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.
"Sounds like a date."
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wileys-russo · 7 months
Note
maybe a fic or blurb where reader is Leah’s girlfriend and an Aussie or an American but plays for Arsenal and is the same age as less? so Leah requests they befriend less and make her feel welcome but then they become besties and Leah gets all pouty and jealous which reader finds hilarious cause her and less are just friends but she loves to wind Leah up
work wife II l.williamson
your eyes fluttered awake as you heard the chime of the alarm on your phone beside your head. scrambling around you flicked it off, exhaling heavily and rubbing the sleep from the corner of your eyes.
with a glance over your shoulder you smiled seeing your girlfriend was still dead asleep by your side, not even stirring at the sound of the alarm. placing your phone back down on the table you shuffled closer, moving to sit on her back as she let out a quiet groan.
"good morning baby." you sang out softly, laying down on top of her and gently kissing her bare shoulder blades.
"it is when i wake up like this." the blonde mumbled, eyes still closed but a smile curling at her lips. "mm that so?" you hummed, moving her hair out of the way to move your lips to her neck. "leah!" you laughed as she suddenly flipped herself over, pulling you again on top of her as she now lay on her back.
"your accent sounds dead sexy in the morning." leah mumbled as she tugged you down into a proper kiss. "dead sexy? you've been talking to my friends on facetime too much." you smiled against her lips, leahs hands grabbing at your hips as she shifted underneath you and placed a hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.
"you've got rehab at ten babe." you pulled away before things escalated and reminded the blonde with an apologetic smile, head thumping down on the pillow beside her as leah cracked one eye open and sighed tiredly with a nod.
she moved her arm to gently tap your sides as you rolled off of her, leah stretching out with a groan. "each days one days closer." you whispered, watching her as you lay on your side, recognizing the frustrated frown which settled on her features.
"yeah." she gave you a tight smile, pecking your lips again and slipping out of bed, tossing a shirt on and heading for the bathroom.
"so you remember it's alessia's first day today right?" leah started, settling into her seat as you hummed, eyes focused on the road. normally you'd be passenger princess but with leahs recovery it had meant a change of situation, much to leahs horror that she was no longer fully in control anymore.
"well the two of you are the same age, you're both strikers. can you look out for her please baby? make sure she feels welcomed yeah? i won't be around as much today, neither will beth since we're both on our own programs with rehab. she has lotte but i want her to feel as comfy and welcome as she can." your girlfriend continued with a concerned frown.
"say comfy again i dare you." you sent her a teasing smile as the blonde rolled her eyes playfully and you parked up outside the compound.
"of course though lee, i'll make sure she settles in with everyone." if only leah had known just how far things would go, maybe she'd not have bothered to ask you in the first place.
~
it was months later and leah was sat on the sofa kitted out in a matching tracksuit set and browsing what movie the two of you would watch tonight, thursday always your night in together.
“bye babe I’m off!” however leahs head whipped around with a frown as you came thundering downstairs, clearly dressed up to go somewhere, and not with her.
“what! where you off to?” leah shot to her feet as you practically hurtled into her, kissing her quickly and side stepping the taller girl. “to the movies with less! i told you at training today?” you explained, moving toward the door as your girlfriend grabbed your hand.
“no you didn’t!” leah shook her head firmly, eyebrows furrowed into an annoyed frown. “yes i did baby, less even asked if you wanted to come with us and you said no.” you smiled in amusement as leah scoffed in disbelief.
“see these things on the side of your head? they’re called ears and they’re wonderful for listening!” you teased tugging on her ears and gently pulling your hand out of her grip, opening the front door and stepping out as leah hovered in the doorway.
“let’s go lovebird or we’re gonna be late!” alessia called out of her window with a smile, honking once as you flipped her off with a grin.
“lee i have to go. i’ll see you in a bit, there’s leftovers in the fridge for you to heat up for dinner. i love you!” you pecked her lips a few times before hurrying down the driveway and slipping into your best friends car, leah watching on with a scowl as the white mercedes peeled out of the driveway.
~
“-no it’s like this you idiot!” you laughed, currently sitting cross legged in the passenger of alessia’s car, the two of you parked in your driveway as you tried to teach her a game you played as a child growing up in australia.
“you clap and then you slide and then you clap again and then you-“ you demonstrated the hand movements again as the blonde across from you watched on with a determined look, nodding along.
“okay go!” your best friend commanded as the two of you started, alessia messing up immediately after the first round as you threw your head back with a laugh. “this is so stupid!” the blonde huffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl.
“this is a kids game less, even children can manage it.” you patted her shoulder with mock sympathy as she shoved at you, the two of you messing around for a bit before alessia stopped, your hands gripped tightly in hers as she nodded forward.
“we’ve got a spectator.” the girl chuckled, leahs head poking through a crack in the curtains of your front windows making you grin and tug your hands away. “i better go. but this was fun! even if you conned me into seeing a horror movie.” you rolled your eyes at the blondes trickery who shrugged.
“it’s not my fault you’re so gullible.”
“it’s not my fault you’re so clumsy.” you grinned, the blondes face bright red as you both recalled the way she’d tripped up the stairs when the two of you were finding your seats, dropping her popcorn and her dignity everywhere.
“shut up you promised you’d leave that between just us!” your best friend whined burying her face in her hands. “and i will!” you assured as you hugged her goodbye, opening your door and stepping out.
“well…us and leah.” you grinned, fully intending on telling the blonde the moment you got inside as alessia yelled after you that you made a promise. “girlfriends don’t count! bye less!” you called back with a wink, waving her off as she backed out of the driveway, letting yourself back into your home with your keys.
“hello creeper.” you greeted your girlfriend with a cheeky grin, who’d conveniently moved away from the window she was previously peering out of. but you frowned as she ignored you and headed for the kitchen.
“you should have seen what happened with less tonight baby oh my god it was so funny.” you took a seat at the bench, rambling away as leah made herself a cup of tea, you too busy throwing your hands around storytelling to pick up on the body language that she wasn't happy with you.
"lee? did you hear me?" your laughter died down as your girlfriend stirred her tea, spoon clinking against the mug melodically. "hey, baby. you okay?" you asked softer now, sensing something was definitely off with the defender.
your concerned gaze turned into a frown as leah brushed you off again, spoon clattering in the sink as she dropped it and moved past you, making a beeline for the living room.
"leah?" you tried again, following after her and hovering at the end of the sofa. though when you were again rewarded with silence you left her to it, heading off to shower and change into something comfier in hopes that whatever was bothering the blonde would blow over with a little bit of time.
"are you done being moody now?" you asked when you returned a half hour later, changed and freshly showered, standing in front of her with your arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. but again, met with silence.
"lee whatever's happened, can we just talk about it please?" you asked with raised eyebrows. "come on, i missed you." you kicked her leg gently as her scowl deepened and she continued to focus on the tv behind your head.
"can't have missed me too much when you're always with your new girlfriend." leah mumbled, crossing her arms and huffing quietly as it all finally clicked for you. "oh my god, you can't seriously be jealous of alessia?" you threw your head back with genuine laughter.
"i'm not jealous, and don't fucking laugh at me." leah scowled at you, unimpressed by the reaction. "baby- you started with a grin, moving to sit down on top of her and ignoring her mumbles for you to get off as you cupped her face.
"-do i need to remind you that it was you who pushed me to look after less in the first place?" you shook your head with an amused smile. "we're just close friends lee. you have nothing to be jealous about!" you squeezed her cheeks playfully, using your fingers to curl her lips up into a forced smile.
"you left me alone on our thursday." the blonde confessed with a small pout as you let go of her face. "baby i did ask if you wanted to come, ears remember!" you flicked them playfully as the captain finally cracked a small smile.
"but no more thursday plans with less, i promise." you kissed her sweetly before peppering kisses all over her face as your girlfriend finally smiled properly. "yeah you better not, you're on thin ice." leahs hands fell to your hips, the two of you kissing properly as you shifted slightly on top of her and pulled away.
"but...i did ask my work wife to drive me to training tomorrow, we're getting coffee." "your what?!"
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heyjwi · 9 months
Text
night drive | pjs
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synopsis: your boyfriend got his first car and wanted to treat you to a late night drive. his hands gripped the wheel tightly and all you could imagine was him gripping your neck.
_________________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
dom!jisung x fem reader
warnings : smut, public/car sex (not seen by anyone), choking, riding, breeding kink, pet names
jisung only recently bought his first car, a black mercedes e class. as you googled how it looked, you immediately got attracted to one thing about it. there was ambient lighting all around, it would definitely make night drives more romantic and calming.
your boyfriend was so excited to show you how cool his car was that he immediately dragged you out of your shared apartment as soon as he got home from the car shop. you couldn’t wait either, elated to see how hot jisung would look as he drove.
before you knew it, you two were on the road, he said he was just going to drive around the city which you had no problem with. the lights in the car illuminated a deep purple, it was hard to focus on the scenery as jisung kept spinning the stirring wheel literally every single second and for some reason he wore specs as well, this man was actually trying to kill you.
his hands were oddly attractive today, his veins popped out more due to his tight grip on the wheel. you turned away to avoid having weird thoughts but couldn’t help to look at him again.
“ji.. why do you keep doing that.”
you asked, fed up as you felt your body getting warmer. he looked at you for a split second and chuckled. “i’m not doing anything, my love” he said, placing his hand on your thigh. he grinned slyly, sliding his hand up between your legs, rubbing closely near to your crotch.
you knew exactly what he was trying to do, softly moaning as you adjusted yourself on the car seat. he groaned, feeling your legs clench his hands "seems like my plans working.." he whispered breathlessly, leaning to kiss you passionately as he stopped at a red light.
you pulled away and stared into his eyes, already feeling yourself getting wet. “go somewhere private ji..” he smirked mischievously and zoomed off as soon as the light turned green, pulling into a dark alleyway nearby. you climbed over, sitting on his lap and pouting at him.
he leaned in to kiss you passionately "you’re so pretty tonight" he grunted, sliding his fingers around your waist "i’ve been dreaming of this for a while now..." he growled softly pressing himself against you grinding his hips slowly against yours while still holding you close to him. you moaned and grinded on his lap, hands sitting on the window. jisung pulled off his specs, placing them down in the cup holder area.
he pushed his seat all the way back allowing you full access to his lap. he smiled proudly seeing how turned on you looked, "we can do this right?" he asked stroking your thighs affectionately, waiting for your consent. in response, you just bounced on his clothed cock, nodding as his hands gripped your waist tightly.
he pulled your shirt over your head, removing his own as you sat on him, grinding on his hard cock. his abs shone with a hint of purple that filled the car, he was so incredibly tempting. you sped up as you moaned loudly, feeling yourself release from just grinding down on him. he smiled lovingly, leaning up to kiss you before starting to caress your covered breasts "you want me inside you hm?", he teased rubbing your nipples through the thick fabric of your bra. "fucking your boyfriend in his new car, where anyone could see you"
you couldn’t help but moan at his statement, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your neck. “choke me ji..” you mumbled. he nodded, watching as your lips quivered "as you wish my love...". he wrapped his arms tightly around your neck, choking you gently "so this is what you like?" he hummed against your ear enjoying every second of it. you let out a stuttered moan, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
he grinned widely as he continued squeezing your throat slightly making you gag but not enough to hurt you. "how does that feel?" he asked leaning forward whispering into your ear "do you want more or less pressure?", he squeezed your throat harder and started placing gentle kisses along your jaw. you nodded, wanting to experiment more with him.
he laughed "maybe next time". releasing his grip on your throat allowing you to breath. he held your waist instead, smiling as you caught your breath. he pushed you downwards, your face resting near his crotch. jisung groaned softly as he pulled his pants down revealing his hard, leaking cock. he moaned rubbing himself gently “you know what i want right?"
you nodded, opening your mouth wide enough to fit his big size. he thrusted forward burying his entire length inside of your throat quickly causing you to gag slightly but you started sucking eagerly wanting to please him. he grunted at how obedient you were. "i love you so much.."
he slowed down his pace pulling out until just the tip remained in your mouth then slamming back in, making you choke loudly "a-ahh..." he groaned out loudly. jisung felt his body tense, "you're doing great.." he smiled patting your head affectionately "just keep going princess, i’m almost there..” he picked up the speed again ramming his thick shaft down your throat rapidly, forcing you to swallow everything.
you swallowed it all and wiped your lips, slowly moving up to sit on him. his grip tightened around your waist firmly as you pushed your panties to the side, slowly starting to ride him. grabbing his glasses and putting them on yourself, he groaned softly as he thrusted upwards into you. increasing the speed gradually and moaning loudly, seeing you in his glasses really turned him on.
he increased his pace once more, slamming into you with every thrust. "you’re so wet for me baby." his words were enough to make you cum but you tried to hang on, placing your hands on the window as the air in the car grew even warmer. he continued to pound into you, feeling your pussy convulse around his cock as he filled you up with his cum. he withdrew his cock from you, he watched as your body trembled in pleasure.
he held onto you, feeling your body pressed up against his chest. "you okay?", his glasses slipping off of your face.
you nodded in response, slowly sitting up to take the glasses off and unclasp your bra, he was enjoying the view of your bare chest. squeezing your nipples gently. "round two?" he said, getting harder as your breasts were practically in his face.
he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you impossibly closer, shoving himself inside you harshly. jisungs grip tightened even further, making sure you couldn't escape from him. "let me hear your voice baby" he growled, slamming himself harder against your body each time he spoke. "scream for me"
you let out a loud moan, chanting his name repeatedly, feeling your whole body shake, the car started shaking as well due to how fast he was going. he chuckled deeply, continuing to pound away at you relentlessly. his breathing became heavier as moans kept falling from your lips, sweat dripping off his forehead. “you’re all mine.. mine.." he cried out suddenly, filling you up with his seed.
it dripped from your pussy, your lips letting out another loud moan, causing him to smile. he gently placed you onto the backseat, moving behind you and pushing your hips up. he smirked, taking a moment to admire your fucked out expression before opening your legs, he started licking your pussy hungrily. "gonna give your body all the attention it deserves tonight."
you gasped loudly , burying your face in your hands. he grinned, giving your thighs a playful slap before eating you out messily. he licked faster, pushing two fingers inside your hole while doing so. you squeezed around his fingers “i-i can’t take-“ you shook violently as cum spilt out of you, accompanied by a loud, erotic moan.
he smiled warmly, pulling his fingers out slowly. “one more round princess.. im so fucking hard." he pushed your waist down until you were laying flat against the seat. lifting you onto his lap and sliding his cock inside of you slowly at first, then began picking up speed. "see.. how horny i am for you..” you couldn’t even reply, you were in a daze, feeling your head fall back.
jisung wrapped his arms around you, thrusting deeply into you. "that’s right, take my cock. take it all..." he kissed your neck tenderly as he continued fucking into you. he leaned forward, kissing you passionately while continuing to fuck you roughly. "so fucking beautiful.. gonna fill you up.”
you kept chanting his name, whining out how good he was. his mind soared with pleasure, loving the way you squirmed under him. he was addicted to you. "so beautiful.." he cupped your breasts with one hand, thumbing your nipples hard as he continued pumping into you.
the car steamed up, filled with grunts and wet slapping sounds. he slammed into you harder, growling like an animal. “gonna breed you hmm, you’re gonna be so pretty.." his fingers dug into your hips as he fucked into you savagely.
you couldn’t help but cum hard at his words. he let out a loud grunt, filling you with his warm seed and moaning in satisfaction as he held you tightly. he kissed you fiercely, biting your lip as he pulled away. jisung gently pushed his cum into you with one last thrust before pulling out. he put his pants back on and turned his attention to you, grabbing a wet wipe from the front compartment to clean you up, helping you dress up before sitting back in the drivers seat, adjusting it to its normal state.
“you should rest a little, i’ll wake you up when we get home.”, he said, putting his specs back on and turning around to smile at you innocently, as if he didn’t just fuck you stupid.
© heyjwi
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circe69 · 1 year
Note
Could I please request 21.) zipping up a dress for you - "what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking." With Ghost? Like I can just imagine the tension if they weren’t together yet and they were still just in a ‘will they won’t they’ situation omg 😭💕 thank you!
absolutely anon! thanks for participating in my special :)
["what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking."]
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐𝟏 - 𝐳𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - ❤︎
This was the worst-case scenario that you could possibly think of. Tonight, the Task Force was holding a banquet as a means of celebrating their recent victory, rescuing Kate Laswell back from being kidnapped. They were holding an auction, all the proceeds were to fund communities around them, specifically to help with missing kids.
The dress you were wearing, or, supposed to wear, was a little less than comfortable. A slim-fitting maroon gown that's zipper was stuck on it's on teeth, and it wasn't even halfway up your back yet.
You sighed as you stared at your backside in the mirror, most of it being completely exposed, showing off some freckles and birthmarks you completely forgot you had, and also some rather ugly scars and scratches from years past.
Thinking about who you could call, everyone was in meetings or preparing for the event themselves, all except for one person.
Ghost.
You rolled your eyes at the thought. He was an amazing solider, the best of the best, obviously, but when it came to making friends or being nice at all, he didn't know what he was doing.
It is different, and you can see that. Making conversation and willingly being kind whilst doing so wasn't the same as aiming a pistol and shooting it, but surely, he had other traits that allowed the former?
You were about to find out.
Picking up your phone in your slightly sweaty and clammy hands, you realized how stressed you really were. You dialed his number, his contact's name not even attached to it because you never bothered.
"Hello?" A deep voice spoke from the other side of the phone.
You inhaled sharply, and he immediately recognized who it was.
"Oh great, it's you," he spoke, and you could tell his mouth was stretched into a sly smile.
"Yes, it's me, I need help."
You heard Ghost shuffle around quickly, maybe even a knife being thrown out of its pocket, "What's wrong?"
Walking over to unlock the front door to hopefully let him in later, you balanced your phone between your bare shoulder and cheek, "No, nothing- nothing's seriously wrong, my dress just won't zip up and everyone else is busy."
Silence. You and Ghost marinated in it for a few seconds, and you swear you heard his tongue click against his teeth, something he only did when he was excited.
You heard him stand from his chair over the phone, "So I was the last resort? That's kinda mean, don't ya think?"
He was having a ball with this, but you on the other hand, your back was chilly and both of you had to be somewhere in less than an hour, so you wanted this show to get on the road.
"Just hurry up and GET. IN. HERE." Your words became decreased to nothing but a whispered shout at the end of your sentence, signaling how serious you were.
"Sheesh, woman, I'll be right the-"
You hung up before he could finish his sentence, and did one last look in the mirror to make sure nothing too scandalous was showing. It wasn't even 5 minutes that passed when there was a knock on your door.
"Come in," you yelled from your place in the bedroom. You heard the door creak open, "I'm in my room."
The sound of loafers clicking on your floor filled the hallway and echoing off the walls, right into your ears. You paused for a moment, realizing if Ghost was attending this event, he'd be dressed up too. That was something you weren't prepared to see.
He walked in, one hand in his pocket and the other fixing his simple black mask. No skull, no dirt, no face paint, no blood splattered. It was somehow classy. Ghost wore a regular black tux, a black tie tucked into his blazer, and a pristine white shirt peeking out from underneath it all.
It was safe to say the both of you were impressed with each other's outfits. His eyes skimmed over you, stopping right when he got to your hips. The red dress hugged them perfectly, dropping down into a regular A-line below. The train dragged on the ground, a few sparkles gently appearing at the edge.
"Wow."
You smiled at his loss for words. "Wow yourself, you look great. Now please, zip this thing up." You turned around, your bare back now facing Ghost, and his breath faltered at the sight. He took a few steps towards you without saying anything.
He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, it was deep and heavy, the way he was breathing. Like he was nervous, or excited, or maybe both. His hands were hesitant, but you slightly flinched as his fingers softly traced the slope of your back, slowly moving up and down. It was so soft, you weren't sure if he was even touching you at times, but instead just basking in the heat you were radiating.
"Is it really stuck? I might just have to ditch it if it's not working," you said, not sure if you were talking to yourself or him anymore.
"No, I'm - 'm just looking."
Your jaw slightly unhinged at his blatant confession. Just looking?
Finally, his fingers dipped lower to reach the zipper, and you shivered at the feeling.
"Hm. You ticklish?" He said as he slowly pulled up the zipper, leaving a finger in front so he could trace the entirety of your spine one last time.
"No," you said breathily. He didn't need to know how dizzy his touch was making you.
"Not really in any hurry, are we now?" His voice was dangerously low, seductively teasing you, and you loved it.
You shivered once more when his fingers reached the top of your back, drawing a small circle with his pointer finger on your skin.
"You have a birthmark there."
Humming in response, you turned around to face him. "Yes."
"You had a few more, but I was scared if I touched them, you'd freak out."
He started to walk out, looking both ways out the dark hallway as if he was crossing a street.
"I wouldn't freak out." You blurted, making him stop in his tracks, "You don't have to worry about that."
He nodded and said over his shoulder, "Noted."
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pisupsala · 2 months
Text
Hitchin' a ride
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
Part 1 of Are You Going My Way?
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader Words: 7k Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
It gets dark early in winter in East Anglia. By the time you leave the ward, it’s pitch dark despite it barely being past dinner time. Huddled in your dark blue wool cape, you trudge along the side of the road, holding a small torch to light your way. There’s a cold, biting wind tonight, and it feels like it’s going through every layer you’re wearing, straight through your bones. Breath shuddering, you pick up your pace, the gravel barrier between the road and the grass crunching under your standard-issue brown boots. The faster you get back to the nurse’s barracks, the faster you’re out of this wind and soaking your sore feet and cold toes.
Thorpe Abbots sprawls strangely, but you usually don’t mind. The quiet walk at the end of the long shifts in the operating room, rounds on the intensive care ward, cleaning, and inventory is your moment of solace. A moment where you can finally let the smile fall off your face, where you can grit out the curses you've bitten back all day, the crinkle in time when you are allowing the tears to well up and drip down your face silently.
There is no textbook or training to prepare you for the horrific reality. Torn flesh, burns, and the blood. The fear and agony. The pained screaming. The blind panic.
You have never felt more that you are where you need to be, yet you are so completely and utterly powerless.
A light catches your eye, reflecting on the trees around you in a ghostly flicker. Glancing over your shoulder, the light floats through the darkness, gliding towards you. The soft ding of a bicycle bell pulls you out of your reverie. Turning fully, the light casting off your torch finally illuminates the figure on the bicycle. 
“Major Egan,” You greet him, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. He has no reason to be here. There’s nothing down this road but the building with the nurses’ quarters. It’s not the first time you’ve encountered Major Egan somewhere he has no reason to be. But you, as an army nurse and merely a first lieutenant, are not about to question him on that.
“You shouldn’t be walking here alone at night, lieutenant,” He tells you, stopping next to you. You stop, too, taking a good look at him—because why wouldn’t you—as he gets off his bike. 
A little too friendly, a little too forward. His bright, sharp blue eyes are contrasted by luscious dark curls and that devilish smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, and moving with a confident grace, he is hard to miss. And if you were to somehow overlook him in a crowd, he commands, demands, attention. There is something dangerously magnetic about him, something electric.
You best keep your distance.
“Don’t worry about me, please, Major,” You reply politely. “It’s not late, and I know the way,” 
“Are you done for today?” He asks conversationally, smiling, his eyes crinkling happily. The tips of his ears are red from the cold. In the middle of a quiet road, in the dark, in freezing temperatures, it’s an odd place for polite conversation.
“Yes, I’m heading back to my quarters,” You smile. “Long day,” You add, hoping to cut the conversation short, desperately trying to suppress the full body shiver from the cold. You notice with some envy that Major Egan seems wonderfully unbothered by the biting wind in his sheepskin jacket. You nod at him, turning back in the direction you had been heading, gingerly taking a step. Hopefully, he gets the hint.
“I could give you a ride,” 
You stop dead in your tracks, looking back at him wide-eyed. 
“I’m heading in the same direction, so you’d get there quicker,” He beams at you with that brilliant smile, patting the carrier at the back of the bike. Instinctively, you start shaking your head, trying to keep yourself from vocalizing your thoughts.
You’d be out of the wind. You’d be in the warm faster. You’d have to get close to Major Egan and hold on to him. You bet that that sheepskin jacket is nice and warm. You bet Major Egan is nice and warm.
“Isn’t that the bike you almost lost an eye for?” Your sense of self-preservation is stronger, has to be stronger, than any magnetic force or joking flirtation from Major John Egan.
“Almost?” He seems surprised you brought it up but recovers quickly. “I remember it differently — it was a bullseye, not my eye,” 
He looks at you like he’s expecting you to laugh with him, but you just blink in disbelief. That’s an awful joke. For a mere second, in the reflected light of your torch, you see his smile falter—he’s smart; he knew that was a dud. You purse your lips.
“I suppose I like my rides without stories of near-eye trauma attached,” You muse. It’s such a flimsy excuse.  
“Do you think it’s bad luck?” It’s a chillingly honest question, and all cheer has suddenly disappeared from his voice. You pause to think. It hadn’t really occurred to you that Major Egan might be a particularly superstitious man; somehow, he didn’t seem the type. But in these times, superstition creeps up on even the most staunch rationalists.
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Major,” you finally admit, eyeing him carefully. He frowns, suddenly unsure of the gravity of the conversation through his own too-candid question. “I would just hate to encourage any of that sort of behavior,” You add lightly.
“So, you would have accepted if I had a different bike?” He sounds on the precipice of hopeful, but the laughter in his voice is evident again. He changes so quickly and bounces back from everything in a mere second — it’s all a joke, after all. He’ll do you a favor and then jokingly ask for a kiss. And then maybe another. And then he’ll move on to whatever or whoever catches his eye next. 
You wrinkle your nose. No. You’re not interested, you repeat to yourself. If you were, you might as well have stayed at home and practiced your good graces at dinner parties. You joined the Army Nurse Corps because you wanted to do something, mean something.
“I’m going now,” You clench your jaw to stop your teeth from clattering. “Good night, Major Egan,”
“Suit yourself, lieutenant,” He grins, undeterred, as he watches you turn on your heel, huddling into yourself to protect yourself from the wind. Truthfully, Bucky wasn’t expecting that you would accept his offer. If anything, he wanted to see how you’d react: your replies are always calm and composed, so very proper, but you have a bad poker face. From the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance to how the corner of your mouth sometimes threatens to pull into a smile at his jokes. And Bucky notices that your gaze lingers just slightly longer than would be polite, although nothing coming out of your mouth would corroborate that. It’s adorable. It’s intriguing. And he knows you won’t make it easy on him.
But that’s not why he keeps thinking about you. That’s not why he goes out of his way to look for you.
You suddenly took root in his thoughts only a few weeks back. It had been a bad day. Worse than Bucky had seen in a while, there had been many bad days lately. 
Being Air Exec has some perks, mostly that other people don’t really question why he’s wandering the halls of the infirmary at the dead of night. In the hallway, set up on provisional cots, medics are asleep, still fully dressed. They just collapsed on the first soft spot the moment they could. He can hardly blame them.
His footsteps echo through the dark rooms. The wounded men in the beds are fast asleep — it’s eerily quiet except for the occasional snore. 
He’s not sure why he’s here. Maybe it’s to assuage some of the guilt he’s feeling — he’s fine after all. He didn’t go up with them, after all. Maybe because he needs to see the pain with his own eyes, afraid that he’ll forget.
The doctor on duty is doing rounds, his desk empty, when Bucky slips through the swinging double doors to where the heaviest casualties are put up. The air in the room feels different—heavier. It’s not quiet—labored breathing, raspy, sometimes gurgling, groans of pain in artificial sleep. He really shouldn’t be here. 
All beds are full.
It’s been a really bad day.
It’s there that he notices you first: sitting on the floor, arms crossed and tucked up against yourself, head leaning against the wall, and legs bent at an uncomfortable angle. In the first second, he thinks someone fell out of their bed. But as Bucky gets closer, he recognizes you — the seersucker cotton dress, the matching cap now crumpled and skewed on your head, and the clearly scuffed and dirty white oxfords. You are one of the OR nurses.
He’s seen you around, just in passing. In chaos between casualties, just from the corner of his eye. Sometimes, you showed up at dances or parties, and Bucky had noticed your cute laugh from across the room, the way your entire face lit up when you smiled. And he knows he’s not the only one who has noticed the delightful sway of your hips as you walk, evident even through your dress uniform. But you made damn sure to make yourself unavailable by sticking with your girlfriends. He’s never seen you accept a drink or dance with someone.
Your mouth is slightly open as you breathe deeply, your form cast in the pale moonlight peeking through the sides of the blinds. Bucky wouldn’t let a woman sleep on the floor in normal circumstances, but in this case, waking you up would be cruel — there isn’t a bed free in the whole hospital. And even bad sleep is better than no sleep.
He moves past you carefully, mentally putting names to all the men here. Those that made it. That’s a good thing, right? They made it. Bucky doesn’t recognize the figure moaning in pain louder and louder, hands desperately grasping at the neatly tucked-in covers —  his entire head is covered with a thick layer of white bandages, not even leaving a slit for his eyes, just a small opening for his mouth. He hesitates before his curiosity takes over and moves by the side of the bed to look closer. It’s a good thing, right?
He should do something to help him.
Bucky is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you brushing past him. He almost jumps out of his skin when your torch suddenly clicks on at the foot of the bed. You are bleary-eyed, blinking rapidly as your eyes fly over the patient chart. 
“He is due for a new round of pain medication,” You state softly, voice still thick with sleep, before looking up at Bucky. “Major,” is all you say in acknowledgment of him.
“Nurse—lieutenant,” He mumbles in reply, increasingly on edge from the patient’s distress. “What are you—” Before he can start running his mouth in confused ramble, you trust the torch at him.
“Hold this, please, Major,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the noises easily in its steadiness and calmness. The small torch is now in his hand, your fingers brushing over his palm unintentionally as you move through the dark. It’s like a small spark burned the spot where your fingertip touches his skin. “Up, please,”
Bucky complies, shining the light from a high angle as you prepare a syringe. You look exhausted, but nothing in your movement betrays that. Clinical, precise, and so calm. He watches you speak softly to your patient, your free hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, a syringe poised in the other. But the patient is struggling harder, too panicked, and in too much pain. 
It happens in a split second.
The patient sits up so quickly that Bucky almost stumbles back in surprise. The patient now has an iron grip on your lower arm, white knuckles, moving in a blind frenzy, pulling you clean off your feet, half over the bed. You yelp in as much surprise as in pain as your knee collides with the metal bed frame. Your face is contorted in pain as you struggle back, trying to regain your footing. 
“It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” You keep repeating patiently. Never let them know you are scared: they can’t calm down if you are not in control.
Your voice doesn’t waver one bit. Bucky clenches the small torch between his teeth, trying to free your arm from the patient’s grip. 
“N- no” You breathe, clearly in pain now. “Please, Major, just help me to hold him still,” 
You are still holding the syringe, poised to strike. Grabbing the patient by the shoulder and forcing him back against the pillow. In the struggle, the torch falls from his mouth. It clatters on the tile floor and rolls away. He is so focused on his task that it’s almost by surprise when the struggle ends within a few seconds, and the patient drifts off again. He never saw you give the injection.
You both stand there, breathing heavily. Bucky bends down to retrieve the torch from the floor. It’s still shining, although it flickers uncertainly with every move. When he straightens back up, he catches you looking at your arm, the brown sleeve of your vest rolled up messily. When you realize he’s looking at you, you pull the sleeve back down and busy yourself tucking the patient back in. But Bucky has seen the angry red fingerprints imprinted on your forearm.
“Thank you, Major Egan,” Not a quiver in your tone, although your breathing has barely slowed down. “It’s probably best you go now,” 
“Are you alright?” He cannot help but ask, gaze traveling to your arm. He can’t help but notice you must have been issued a vest a size up, as the sleeves are a bit too long on you. It’s adorable.
“Please don’t worry about me,” You reply, smiling, but it’s clearly a deflection. The corners of your mouth are quirked up, but your eyes just spell tired. “You should try to get some rest, Major. The sun will be up soon,”
There is a certain sense of irony in you telling him that. At least he has a bed to go to, you think wryly. You start walking towards the ward exit, signaling he should follow you. 
“Will you be okay here by yourself, lieutenant?” It’s not his place to worry about you, but you are just… you. And these men are in pain, scared, and -
“The doctor will be back from his rounds soon,” Your soft voice pulls Bucky from his thoughts. You stand at the door, holding it open for him. If he hadn’t just seen that chaos happen, he would have never guessed by your demeanor anything happened.  As he passes you, you salute him. He salutes you back, gazing over to you. The tips of your fingers are shaking. 
The thought is sudden and overwhelming: he wants to lace his fingers through yours, pull you against him, and hold you until you stop shaking.
“Goodnight, Major,” You whisper with a pointed look. You want him out of here so you can check on your throbbing knee and painful arm away from his prying eyes.
“Goodnight, lieutenant,” He replies, tearing his eyes away from you.
***
In early spring, it seems like the rain never stops, from semi-permanent drizzle to raindrops rhythmically ticking against the window pane to the torrential downpour you find yourself in now. The drab-colored trench coat is putting up a valiant fight to keep you dry.
You’re holding your purse over your head but to no avail. The cold trickle of water from your sodden hair travels down your spine. You’re trailing behind your friends, who are making good time through the storm. Water sloshes in your left boot, making it heavy, the drenched woolen sock rubbing painfully against your foot. 
Then you hear it. The all too-happy ding of a bicycle bell. 
You try to walk faster, gritting your teeth, but Major Egan has caught up with you in just seconds. You don’t stop to greet him, just glancing over at him with narrowed eyes. Gracefully, he jumps off the bike, matching your pace by foot easily. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead, his cap sagging under the weight of the water it must have absorbed. He shouldn’t look this good, sopping wet, especially when you feel so wretched.
“Lieutenant, I could get you where you need to be a whole lot quicker,” he calls out.
“No, thank you, Major,” Your tone is polite, but you keep walking, falling behind further and further from your friends as your left boot squelches with every step. You know he noticed. 
“You’re really not going to take me up on the offer? Even in this downpour?” 
“Most drops miss,” You can’t keep the scowl off your face as you march on. 
“You are so unbelievably stubborn,” He laughs. You don’t think you’re stubborn; you just don’t like feeling like your hand is being forced. 
“I don’t need you to save me, Major.” You tell him evenly, finally stopping and turning to him. You know your friends noticed you stopping but probably figured they were doing you a favor and kept going. 
Bucky regards you carefully — you look miserable. The curl has long been rained out of your hair; rivulets of water running down your face, dripping on the collar of your trench coat. The steep downturn of the corners of your mouth pretty much just seals the deal. But despite all the evidence, you would never admit you’re anything but fine. 
“Save you?” He sounds incredulous. Like the thought never even crossed his mind. 
You bite your lip — you might have said too much. But you are afraid that he might ask you for something if you owe Major Egan a favor. He will ask you for something. And you won’t be strong enough to tell him no maybe because you want him to ask. Who wouldn’t?
You’ve seen him look at you from across the room before, and when you scrape together the courage to meet his gaze, it’s like electricity. Short, intense, and almost painful. And then he looks away, his attention turning so fleetingly. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Forget it,” You mumble, clearly embarrassed. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you wish nothing about this moment was happening right now. When you peek through your lashes at Major Egan, you note he looks concerned.
“For what it’s worth,” He clears his throat, not a trace of humor in his voice. “I never considered you to require saving, lieutenant.” 
You keep looking at him sharply, finally shaking your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.” 
There is something deeply absurd about the whole conversation. Just tell him no. Just bid him goodnight and leave. Why are you even entertaining him with your feelings on this? And it’s clearly entertainment to him.
“I’m going to my quarters now, Major,” You state, feeling the need to be polite despite your increasingly impolite feelings about the situation. “And you’re going in the wrong direction,” You add pointedly as you start walking again. It feels like you have an entire puddle in your boot now.
“So what would you prefer, lieutenant? A more classic approach?” That devastatingly handsome grin is back on his face again as he walks beside you. How is that what he took from your last statement? Your shoulders sag when you feel the butterflies in your stomach. “At the next dance, I buy you a drink and sweep you off your feet on the dance floor?” 
“I might be more agreeable when it’s not freezing or raining,” You sigh like it’s paining you to admit it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Bucky likes to think he saw the shadow of a smile pass over your face as you say it, even though your voice is painfully neutral. 
“Is that a yes?” Again, that hopeful edge. 
“No,” You reply curtly, but you feel bad the moment you say it because you see his smile fall — he’s staring at you somewhere between confusion and growing frustration. It’s making you feel bad. A horrible little selfish part of you wants him to only smile at you. Major Egan could light up a room with that smile — he regularly does. The selfish little monster in you wants to be the reason that he smiles like that. 
“Ask me again at the dance, Major,” You amend carefully.
The way his face breaks out in that broad, beaming smile makes you weak at the knees. 
***
Bucky is on pins and needles tonight. Even Buck, usually so even-tempered, is getting irritated with him. Drumming his fingers on the bar, tapping his foot not to the beat of the music but to blow off some of the anxious energy. People are flittering in and out of the hall, but there is no sign of you yet. He’s going through his whiskey too quickly, and it’s doing very little to calm his anticipation.
After an hour of only half-listening to the conversation going on around him, constantly glancing at his watch, he finally sees the pack of nurses come in. Bucky’s heart drops a little because you aren’t with the group. You’re always with that group. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he resolutely makes his way to the table now occupied by five gossiping nurses. All eyes are on him as he approaches.
“Good evening, ladies,” He smiles, eyes searching the table. All chairs are occupied — clearly, your friends aren’t saving you a seat. A chorus of good evenings and giggles comes in reply.
“How can we help you, Major Egan?” A blonde nurse asks, peering up through her lashes.
“I’m actually looking for my favorite nurse,” He replies easily, holding his smile despite feeling mildly annoyed. When he mentiones your name, another chorus of giggles. 
“I thought I was your favorite nurse,” One of the girls pipes up. The girls burst out laughing.
“She’s on the night shift,” An earnest, young-looking nurse cuts in, pushing up her glasses. Bucky doesn’t really recognize her — she must be quite new. “I asked to switch shifts because I haven’t been to a dance here before.”
“You should have found someone from the afternoon shift,” the blonde nurse sighs in a bored tone. “The poor girl is putting in a double shift now,”
“No one else would switch with me,” The bespectacled nurse defends herself with a small voice.
Bucky should be annoyed. Did you scheme this out on purpose? You run so hot and cold between your lingering looks and thinly veiled barbs. But then again. Of course, you would switch shifts with the new girl out of kindness. You slept on the floor to stay close to those most needed care. Doc sang your praises in the officer’s mess regularly for staying late to finish inventory, covering in emergencies, and keeping the OR running smoothly. Kindly caring for everyone around you.
He should be annoyed. But instead, he feels jealous. It’s a horrible feeling. But you cared more about the new girl than him? Is it really so bad that he wants your kind attention aimed at him? That he wants to be your choice? You wouldn’t even give him a shot. 
It just won’t do. But now, at least, he knows where to find you.
At the end of the dark hall, a faint light. A lone lamp on a lone desk, with a lone nurse sitting at it. You hear him coming, of course. Your bright eyes look straight at him as he emerges from the darkness. You are already getting up out of your chair, ready to greet him, notes and medical textbook forgotten on the desk.
“Good evening, Major Egan,” you greet him, your voice soft. Your gentle tone carries sweetly through the quiet hall. You didn’t expect him to come find you. It feels far too serious, far too earnest. You haven’t seen or spoken to Major Egan for over a week now, and for your own sake, you decide that he hadn’t been serious—that you hadn’t been serious. It was just banter.
Truthfully, you were slightly relieved the new girl asked you to switch shifts. But as you sat at the duty desk by yourself, blankly staring at the pages of your medical textbook, your stomach twisted painfully with regret. 
“Good evening, lieutenant -” you cut him off with a sharp shush, tapping your index finger against your lips. You step a bit closer to him, voice a sweet whisper. “Please keep it down,” 
A beat of silence as you’re both clearly uncomfortable in the strange situation you have suddenly found yourself in.
“How can I help you, Major?” You whisper politely as your eyes nervously, guiltily, dart around the room—anywhere but him. He looks sharp in his dress uniform. He smells nice. He clearly made an effort. And you’re standing here in your day-old hospital uniform. Self-consciously, you try to straighten the standard-issue white and brown stripe wrap-around dress. 
“I came looking for my favorite nurse,” Bucky replies sincerely, eyes boring into yours. 
“Then you must not be looking for me,” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself. Bucky nearly bursts out laughing at the pained look that crosses your face as you clamp your mouth shut. 
“I was waiting for you to show up at the dance,” He says with that same heavy sincerity. His stance is casual, hands in pockets and shoulders relaxed. But the way he fidgets — tapping and shuffling his foot — as he waits for you to reply hints that he is not nearly as calm as he’d like to appear.
“I had to stay,” You reply, still avoiding his gaze. It’s a half-truth. You could have said no. But the new girl seemed to want to go to the dance more badly than you did. It felt unfair. And you had convinced yourself quite thoroughly that Major Egan wouldn’t care or notice anyway.
Another silence falls. Neither quite sure where to go from here.
“How are the boys doing?” Bucky asks conversationally, reaching out to the large doors leading into the intensive care unit. On a whim, you grab his hand before he touches the handle, your fingers gently wrapping over the top of his large hand. He stills, and for a moment, you think he’ll shake your hand off his. But instead, he waits in acceptance.
“It won’t help you,” You whisper. It took you a while to figure out why Major Egan was in the hospital that night. When people spoke of him, they spoke of how much he cared for his men — a heavy burden to bear.
“Help me?” His voice is suddenly loud. He is offended at the notion that he’s doing it for himself and offended that you called him out like that. He opens his mouth again to argue with you.
Startled by the volume, your brain misfires fully, and instead of replying, your free hand reaches out to his face, your index finger landing on his soft lips to silence him. He stares at you wide-eyed. You are sure you look as shocked as he does. You try to gather your thoughts quickly.
“I - I understand,” You implore him in an urgent whisper, finally looking at him. Bucky sees his own sorrow reflected in your eyes. 
Sometimes, you can only wait. There is no next round of medicine; there is no operation that will help. Waiting for the body to do its work can be frustrating and maddeningly slow.
“But there is nothing you can do now, so going in won’t help you or them,” You swallow. Why is your finger still on his lips, and why is he letting you do that? “They need to rest. You need to rest.”
His fingers lace through yours as he steps closer. It’s inappropriate how close he is standing to you. It’s inappropriate how the tips of your fingers caress the seam of his lips. It’s inappropriate how your hand has latched onto his, his thumb drawing lazy circles on the pulse point of your wrist.
“I don’t need rest.” His voice is soft and close. The intimacy of his lips moving against your fingers is intense, each breath setting your nerve endings on fire. He leans into your touch, trailing from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. Finally, you look at him.
“Then what do you need?” Your question comes automatically. Always looking for how to help. Always so kind. He could melt into your soft touch, warm voice, and how you look at him so sweetly.
“I need to know when you’re done here so I can sweep you off your feet,” His eyes meet yours, keenly following your every move. 
You want to take a step back and break the increasingly feverish connection, away from his oddly earnest confession, but Bucky pulls you closer with a small tug on your hand. Your head is swimming; your heart is hammering in your chest. You shouldn’t entertain any of this, but it feels like your heart is pouring out of your mouth.
“My shift ends at 0500,” 
Bucky grins at you—not in a teasing way, but with that infectious broad smile—the one you cannot help but smile back. It gives you butterflies. You’re smiling at him now, beautifully, genuinely. It feels like a victory to Bucky.
“I’ll keep the party going if you promise me the last dance.” His voice is low and inviting; he is reeling you in further with every word.
“Don’t torture everyone on my account, please,” You feebly try to inject some levity into the situation. You know yourself well enough: you are no match for John Egan and his attentions. From sparks across the room, now it’s like you’ve touched the live wire, and the current has a hold on you. That’s why you always avoided him so.  
“Torture? Darling, it’s a party,” He needles you gently, eyes glinting merrily. “Only you would equate that to torture.” 
“Major -,” “Bucky,” He interjects. You blink at him, biting your lip. 
“Bucky, please,” The moment you utter his name, so beguilingly, so breathlessly, he presses your palm against his face fully, his hand covering yours. He needs you closer. The golden buttons of his jacket brush against the front of your dress. His lips press against the soft flesh of your hand as he studies your reaction. The hitch in your breath is embarrassingly loud to your ears. 
“Please, what?” 
“Don’t torment me like this,” It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. And exactly as you’d expect, the admission of your weakness, the slightest chink in your armor, is an in for him. 
“How do I torment you, exactly?” His voice is so warm, so encouraging. 
“You take far too much pleasure in making fun of me, for one,” You try to play it off in a last-ditch attempt. But under his heated gaze, his breath brushing on the sensitive skin of your wrist, you falter. You frown before you utter in a small voice: “It’s not nice how you toy with me, Bucky, because it’s obvious that… that it’s just a joke to you, and your idea of a joke could get me dismissed, and sent home,”
You look down at your shoes, embarrassed. You want to pull away, but Bucky is not allowing you an inch of slack.
“It’s not a joke to me.” He sounds surprised. You look up at him, unable to keep the skepticism off your face. “It wasn’t a joke from that night I saw how calmly you handled that panicked patient, the moment you saluted me with those shaky fingers, and then every time you denied my help, you stubborn, stubborn girl,” His face is so close to yours now; a finger tracing down the side of your neck, down, just along the collar of your dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The way your hand rests on his cheek, you could pull him even closer if you wanted to. “I’ve wanted to grab hold of you, wrap you around me-”
Footsteps. You pull back from Bucky with a jerky movement, who mercifully releases you immediately, stumbling back two steps, almost hitting the desk with your legs. It’s strangely cold suddenly without his hands wrapped around yours, without him so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Blood is rushing in your ears. Bucky looks too collected, but to your relief, you spy a faint blush creeping up his neck. 
So it wasn’t just you.
Hands folded, you take another furtive step back behind the desk, making sure there’s a respectable distance between you as the doctor on duty turns the corner. Bucky and the doctor start talking in low voices, but you are not listening. In your mind, you keep returning to his words, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. 
That night on the ward. That was the first time you spoke and saw each other in more than passing. That’s when Bucky suddenly formed this habit of popping in places he had no business of being. Places you happened to frequent. You really hadn’t been vain enough to consider that the common denominator in those situations was you. It had to be a coincidence that he had just turned into a joke. 
“Nurse,” The doctor turns to you, handing you his clipboard. You nearly jump out of your skin, being so lost in thought. “Please update the log,”
“Yes, doctor,” You nod, trying not to look as flustered as you feel. The men start leaving, still talking. 
“Good night, lieutenant,” Bucky turns to you, unable to keep the cocky smile off his face. Before he turns, he winks at you. It makes your knees so weak you nearly collapse back into your chair. Covering your face with your hands, you try to focus, but the smile won’t come off your face.
Seven more hours until your shift ends.
***
It’s a misty summer morning, dew covering every inch. The sun is just breaking through the clouds, and it’s promising to be a beautiful day.
When you leave the infirmary, you blink against the early morning sun. It’s still so early that few people are around. You hesitate. Surely, the party is not still going on. You wouldn’t put it past Bucky to actually do it. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, you’re unsure if you could even stay on your feet long enough for a dance.  
Luckily, you don’t have to make a choice. 
The sound of the bicycle bell makes you smile now. Bucky’s looking remarkably fresh and well-rested. The party clearly didn’t go that far into the night. He dressed for duty, his signature sheepskin jacket hanging open.
“Are you going my way, darling?” 
You purse your lips because you’re fighting to keep the smile off your tired face. You don’t stand a chance. You dart over to him like you are pulled by a magnetic force, the live current arching between you.
Sliding onto the back of the bike, you grab handfuls of the thick sheepskin to steady yourself, trying to find your equilibrium. Bucky’s large, warm hands encircle your wrists and easily pull your hands off his jacket. Instead, he gently nudges you forward by your arms, tucking them under the side of his jacket, wrapping your arms around his waist. The side of your face is resting against his back. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm, resting just under his sternum; you move along with his every breath.
“Ready?” Bucky peers over his shoulder. 
“Hm–mh,” You hum in reply, face buried in the folds of Bucky’s jacket. “Drop me off before the last turn?” You mumble, gazing up at him pleadingly. “Matron will be awake and on the prowl by now,”
“Don’t worry, darling,” His free hand wraps over yours, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m not going to get you into any trouble,”
“I’m holding you to that,” You yawn, wrapping yourself around him tighter. You’re going to make the most of this moment — the quiet morning, the soft sheepskin, the smell of Bucky’s aftershave. 
You drift in and out of sleep, even though the trip by bike is tortuously short. After almost twenty hours on shift, you should be allowed this comfort. Whining in protest as Bucky starts to unlatch your arms from him, you feel his chuckle as much as you hear it. 
You slide off the back of the bike, ignoring where the metal was jabbing into your backside on the bumpy road, and rub your eyes, trying to get rid of the haze in your vision. A small yelp escapes you as Bucky tugs you against him by the tie at the waist of your wraparound seersucker dress. The bike lays forgotten in the grass by the side of the road. All the tension and anticipation from last night are suddenly back — you feel wide awake again.
Bucky’s fingers are resting lightly against your waist like he is testing the waters, slowly, gently guiding you closer to him until you are inches away from him. Automatically, your hands sneak back up his jacket, running up his sides to the front of his chest. He is so warm against the crisp morning air. 
“Are you going to ask me for a kiss now?” It comes out almost naively as you look up at him. God, you hope he says yes.
“I promised not to get you into trouble,” He teases gently, grinning, inclining his face closer anyway, his lips just ghosting over the corner of your mouth. He is rewarded with a shuddering sigh from you — his grip on your waist tightens, prompting you to close the remaining distance between you. 
“This, of course, is perfectly innocent,” Only you could be looking at him with those big eyes, full of want, your curious fingers roaming over his chest, and still speak so earnestly. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, shaking from laughter. You wrap yourself around him, head buzzing. It’s like you’re short-circuiting, sparks flying with every move, every breath. 
Bucky nips at the sensitive flesh of your neck, hoping to elicit more of those small sounds from you. If it weren’t for the quiet morning, remnants of mist dissolving in the first light, he would have missed the softest moan of his name that falls from your lips. He could do this all day. Just explore every move of your body against his, every way you can say his name, every touch that brings you closer to him. You move in effortless synchronicity with him, purely on instinct. 
“Then it’s trouble you want, darling?” Bucky murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw.
“It’s only trouble if we get caught,” You reply breathlessly. 
His finger is under your chin, tilting your face up to him, and finally, Bucky’s lips find yours. For a second, it’s just that: his lips pressed softly, almost chastely, against yours. You push yourself up on your tiptoes to get more leverage, wrapping your arm around his neck. Your other hand stays pressed against his chest, fisting his shirt, feeling how his heartbeat speeds up as you open your mouth for him with a sigh. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, cupping your face. His other hand is roaming boldly over your back, applying light pressure on your spine so you arch into him, skimming just over the curve of your behind, playfully tugging at the ribbon of your wraparound dress. He knows exactly what he is doing and how to get exactly what he wants from you, and you’re more than eager to please.
Your mouth starts to tentatively explore the column of his neck as he whispers your name longingly, encouraging your little adventure. When your lips touch a particularly sensitive spot right under his ear, Bucky hisses — you can feel his muscles clench. It’s exhilarating; he feels the sparks as much as you do. Bucky doesn’t allow you to bask in your small victory too long, greedily capturing your mouth with his again, wrapping you around him, tucking you against him. His soft touch turns feverish, grasping at your hip. You match in kind, nails grazing the nape of his neck, just along his hairline — anything to keep the tension, the current arching.
You can feel the sunshine on your skin and see it through closed eyes. Breathlessly, you pull away just a fraction — Bucky’s lips are still ghosting over yours. 
“What’s wrong, darling?” He asks so softly you’re unsure if you heard or felt the words against your lips.
“I have to go,” You mumble as you move to stand feet flat on the ground again. It’s like waking up from a dream. Time is getting away from you. You’re not ready to pull away from Bucky yet, wanting to stretch the moment out. You gently fix his collar, running your hands over his front once more, as much in an attempt to straighten out the wrinkles you left on his shirt as to feel him move under your palm again. When he steps away from you, you release a shuddering breath. You feel like you’ve just been hit by lighting. 
“I’ll come find you,” He winks at you, grinning. Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture feels intimate, more personal, than you could have imagined.
It was everything you feared happening when you said yes to John Egan. It was everything you dreamed it to be. As you watch him leave, you know that you’ll have a damn hard time giving that up. 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
note: this was literally supposed to be a quick 2k words fun meet cute kind of thing, just a quick adventure Morty, but oh god I'm in too deep. forgive me for this detour from Of All The Stars in The Sky, but it was necessary, you understand.
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months
Text
So Then Kiss Me ~ BC [MATURE WARNING]
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WORD COUNT:5K
GENRE: Continuation of this piece HERE (you dont have to read to read this though)SMUT MINORS DNI, Insta love kinda feel, mafia AU, Chan being a total gentleman with reader, office sex, @meloncremesoda
Cunnilingus, protected sex, excitement of possibly getting caught
PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader 
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The sun was starting to set and the streets were already dimly lit and cloaked in an ominous stillness that made you feel completely uneasy. The air was thick with tension and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong at any second.
"You just need to relax, once we get to my place you'll be able to do that." Katarina - your best friend of almost seven years now - explained as you nodded a little taking in a deep breath. Somewhere inside of you, you knew she was right and that you were just feeling uneasy because of the shitty day you'd had.
Shitty probably wasn't the best way to describe it since it seemed as though there was a malevolent force that was wreaking havoc on your entire life today. In the span of a single day, you'd been fired - even though you'd been up for a huge promotion but they'd given it to the new hire. Something you'd expressed your disdain for and was quickly slapped with an unemployment notice. Not only that but you'd been making your way home when you'd fallen into the canal after a biker pushed you and rode off. You hadn't even managed to get a proper look at the guy, you'd just heard him laughing manically to himself from the bottom of the bridge.
By the time you'd made it home to your apartment, there was a giant red notice on the door, an eviction letter despite every single bill of yours being paid on time. The universe was out for you and it was playing a dangerous game with you.
"I'll even let you use the hot tub," Kat smirked at you but you giggled, about to say something when you heard the purr of an engine echoing off brick walls making people murmur to one another about the reckless driving.
"You've convinced me," You laughed, stepping onto the road to cross over to the convenience store since the two of you were planning to grab snacks and drinks for your sleepover tonight.
The black SUV tore around the corner, its tires skimming on the wet asphalt as it sped through the city streets. Behind the wheel, Shadow, drove recklessly trying to get his boss to a meeting on time. But as your luck, and the universe's way of fucking you up more, had it, you'd been crossing the road at the same time he ran a red light. Chan watched in awe as you appeared out of nowhere like a ghost in the night, you looked so fragile and delicate and completely unaware of the impending danger you were in.
"Stop the car!" A voice boomed from the back of the vehicle.
The sound of tires screeching made you look up, your eyes widening in a mixture of shock and fear frozen in place as you began to shake. The SUV came to an abrupt halt mere inches away from you as people turned and gasped watching the scene in front of them.
"Are you okay?!" Kat asked as she rushed you over to the other side of the road letting you lean against the wall as you held your hand over your chest. Your heart was racing so much you were afraid it was about to come right out of your chest.
"The universe hates me," Was all you'd managed to get out as you stared down at the floor, your whole body was shaking as you thought back to the whole thing. The light was illuminated for you to cross the street, none of this was your fault but if the car hadn't broken so suddenly you'd be dead right now.
"Listen! Creep! If you're going to yell at her for being on the road maybe you should take an eye exam!" Kat started to yell out and you breathed out heavily turning to see her staring at a man twice her size who was staring down at her. He was almost 6''5 in height, bald and had a giant scar running down the left side of his face. His attention moved from Kat to you, staring you down and making your mouth run dry.
"Don't stare her down! It might work on other people but we're not going to back down!" Kat screamed in his face, hitting his chest with her purse.
"We'll sue you! You were driving over the speed limit and you ran a red light! Matter of fact-" She reached into her purse pulling out her phone.
"I'm calling the police!" She yelled but you put your hand on her arm trying to calm her down.
"Leave it. He didn't hit me, let's just go home." You begged, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep it off like nothing had happened, the sooner the day was over the better and standing in the street arguing with a man who looked like he could snap you in half was not helping.
"I won't leave it! He could have killed you!" She screamed, her yells beginning to draw attention from those around you. You heard another door open and shut and you glanced in the direction of the car.
"And what do you want?!" Kat rang out making a few of the women around you both gasp.
"Do they know who that is?" One woman muttered making you glance behind you to stare at them. Both of them looked terrified as they stared at the second man who had joined you on the streets,
"Obviously not otherwise they wouldn't be yelling," Her friend whimpered before they scurried away into a nearby store.
"Are you okay?" You glanced back around not expecting to see the man inches away. His accent was thick and you suddenly felt as though you couldn't breathe with how handsome he was staring at you, you nodded a little.
"Are you sure? It must have scared you quite a bit." The man stared down into your eyes searching for any signs that you might have been lying to him but you barely even blinked.
"I've told him to drive the speed limit around here but he never listens," It was a lie. When Chan needed to get somewhere he would, he didn't care who was on the roads but after seeing you so scared there was something inside of him that snapped. A deep achiness that urged him to reach out and check on you, to protect you even.
"Y-Yes, fine. Just shook up," You admitted when you realised he was still waiting for you to answer him. Clearing her throat Kat stared at you, narrowing her eyes at the man and then at you before she smirked a little. It was obvious that you were attracted to the man, though it was lost on Kat as to why since his driver had almost hit you.
"She would be better if you took her for some tea, you know, to make up for your driving almost killing her." Your eyes shot in her direction but she refused to look at you, instead, she chose to stare at the man who was apologising to you,
"Kat!" You hissed out, was she out of her mind? One second she was ready to fist fight the person who had almost hit you and now she was attempting to set you up.
"She's right, I should take you for some tea to steady your nerves. It's the least I can do," Chan said as he watched you, his eyes hadn't left your face since the moment he got out of the car and you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat.
"Text me when you're done," Kat winks at you, walking away so that you can't decline the offer of tea and you whimper a little.
"I'm Chan, it's lovely to meet you...?" He stated his name so that it wouldn't feel too weird going to get something to drink with a stranger.
"Yn." You told him as he took your hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently as you felt your body warm at the whole interaction.
"I know the perfect place. We can walk if you'd like," Chan told you as he slipped your arm through his, your hand clutching onto his forearm as you nodded a little. 
"Thank you." You whispered, noticing people staring in your direction as the two of you made your way down the street.
Heads turned at every point making you feel a little uneasy about this whole thing, maybe they all thought it was insane for you to try and go out with the man who had almost killed you. 
The quaint cafe was nestled in the corner of the city, usually, it would exude warmth and comfort for you but tonight it wasn't. Tonight, the sight of the place made you want to shrivel up and die on the floor.
"The universe hates me." You mumbled as you stopped outside the cafe that Chan had offered to take you to. It was run by your bosses - well, ex-bosses - wife who was glaring at you through the window. Not that she had any reason to glare when her husband was the reason you'd been fired in the first place,
"Sorry?" Chan questioned thinking he'd misheard you.
"I just remembered I need to head home, I'm going to be late for Kat's dinner." You were lying through your teeth but anything was better than going into the cafe tonight and having to deal with your ex-bosses wife,
"She told you to enjoy yourself. Is this Cafe not up to your standards? I can drive us somewhere else." He was open to taking you anywhere you wanted to go, even if it meant getting the jet out and flying you somewhere you'd prefer. If you said the word it would be done in seconds,
"It's lovely it's just...My ex-boss's wife owns it." You admitted, looking down at your hands and then at Chan who was frowning a little.
"Oh. How long ago did you leave?" He questioned, pulling you to the side of the door and watching you closely. He could sense that there was something more going on but you were reluctant to share it with him,
"Leave?" You scoffed a little and shook your head, leaving wasn't the right word since you'd practically been dragged out of that building for speaking facts.
"More like fired and today. I was up for a promotion and he gave it to the new girl he's got a thing for." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest as Chan watched you closely, humming a little to himself.
"Hmm, I see."
"Yeah, I expressed my disdain for it and I was fired on the spot." You mumbled a little, rubbing the back of your neck as you probably sounded like a woman scorned but instead of judging you, Chan took your side.
"Hardly seems fair since you were already up for it."
"Life hates me today." You admitted with a low laugh, shaking your head as Chan opened the cafe door for you. There was no way he was going to let one silly woman ruin the evening he wanted to share with you.
"Trust me, no one will bother you while I'm here," He promised and even though you hadn't known him long you believed him.
As you entered the cafe, the air seemed to shift subtly and everyone turned to stare in your direction and Chan who simply nodded at the owner who hid away in the back room.
"She's not welcome." The woman stated but Chan led you toward a corner table near the large window and he smiled at you warmly.
"She's welcome anywhere," Chan stated as he turned around to face the woman whose face flashed a sign of something unreadable and she nodded, bowing a little to him.
It took almost three seconds for a server to rush over to the table, and take your orders without looking up at either of you. Chan's demeanour remained composed as he stared at you, 
"I'll take a hot chocolate," He spoke to the server but not once did his eyes leave yours as you smiled a little.
"Samr for me please," You said to the server who still hadn't looked at either of you before scurrying off behind the counter. 
Taking in a deep breath you look around the cafe taking in the silence, there was nothing but the soft clink of teaspoons or people whispering to one another,
"Are you famous, or something?" You whispered finally having enough of people staring in your direction and whispering to one another.
Chan was a little shocked, there weren't many people in Seoul who didn't know who he was and he loved that you didn't know, there was something interesting about it. Chan smiled at you and tried to think of something he could say. It wasn't like he could come right out and tell you that he was the towering figure of organised crime in Seoul and he couldn't lie and say he was famous since he wasn't an Idol or actor.
"Something like that," He chuckled as two mugs of hot chocolate were placed down on the table in front of you both and he looked at you. His heart fluttered a little as he watched you slowly take the cup into your hands and blow into the liquid that was obviously too hot but it was cute.
"So why else does the universe hate you? It can't just be because you got fired." Chan stated as he leant forward, he'd cancelled a meeting for this and he didn't want this to be a bust with you.
"Where do I even start?" You whined a little and leaned back on the chair, both of you falling into a conversation about how awful your day had been not noticing that time was getting away from you both.
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By the time you'd both realised what the time was it was dark out and you had missed calls from Kat, along with almost 24 texts asking for details about how it had all gone,
"I'll drive you to Kat's, I'm not letting you walk home. You never know who could be wandering the streets," Chan explained as he carefully took your arm in his and led you to the already waiting car. Chan knew what could be wandering the streets and that the most dangerous thing there right now was him but he helped you into the car and instructed Shadow to start driving.
"Thank you for tonight, I had fun." You admitted with a small laugh,
"Maybe the universe gave you such a shitty day so I could make it better," He winked at you sending tingles up and down your spine. All night your stomach had been in an eruption of butterflies and your heart couldn't stop fluttering,
"Maybe." You whispered unable to shake the tingle-feeling you felt all over your body.
"I'd love to do it again, on a day that hasn't been so bad for you," Chan admitted, one night with you wasn't enough and he selfishly wanted more from you than he was probably allowed.
"I'd love that too," You admitted, staring into his eyes as he smiled at you. Before you, he had been a man of very few words but tonight he'd spoken more than he thought he had in his life. His rough exterior was melting away easily thanks to you,
"I'll call you," He said as the car slowly came to a stop, your heart sinking as you realised it was time to come back to reality and remember all of these shitty things going on in your life.
"Sure," You whispered, sliding out of the car and heading toward the steps of Kat's apartment but you were stopped when a hand carefully took yours.
Without thinking your lips met in a collision of passion and softness, your lips wrapped around the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you.
The kiss lingered until someone cleared their throat making you break apart and stare at Kat who was smirking down at you, her arms folded on her chest.
"I'll call you soon," Chan whispered before placing a small kiss on the top of your head heading back to the car and speeding off into the night. You were too high from the kiss to remember that you'd never given him your number or even your full name as you headed into the house to tell Kat all about your date. 
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In the span of almost four days, things had turned from the absolute worst to the best that they could have been. The day after your date with Chan you'd been offered your job back with a promotion and even your own office with a giganic pay rise which went along nicely with your new apartment that you'd found. You'd hardly been able to believe the place when you saw it and for the price it was at? It was a steal and you weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth with it. 
Your apartment building had its own doorman that greeted you every time you entered or left the building the place was stunning and your apartment was even better. 
There was a crystal chandelier that hung in the entrance, the whole place was a picture of elegance and sophistication it was incredible to see.
"Miss, Yln, Someone is here to see you." Your new assistant said snapping you from your daydream, you nodded at her and sent her a small smile before straightening yourself out.
"Send them in." She nodded and headed back to the office, you turned to look at your computer for a second to check over some last-minute emails when a news article popped up in the corner.
Body found floating in the Canal: Police believe the man found may be the Seoul Pusher they have been looking for. 
"Is that-" You were about to ask if it was the same man that had pushed you when the door opened and shut.
"I see things are going rather well for you," The voice sent shivers down your spine as you shot up from your chair. Standing there with all of the confidence in the world was Chan, he smirked at you as you took him all in. He was dressed in a tailored suit that showed off his broad shoulders and incredible physique and he looked hot. 
"Nice to see you again, I thought you'd never find me." You teased as he made his way over to your desk, taking a seat on the chair in front of it and smirking at you.
"I wanted to give it a few days, one of my men said a week but I wanted to see you." Chan wasn't afraid of admitting what he wanted and it was you, you had been all he'd thought about for the last four days and how badly he needed to see you again.
"I wanted to see you too," You whispered sitting on the edge of your desk directly in front of him, there was something about him that made you feel more confident whenever he was around you and you never wanted that to go away.
Chan's eyes slowly travelled up your body starting from your legs until he reached your face which was burning hot with how intently he'd been watching you.
"What can I do you for? Mr Bang." You'd found out his name after you'd tried to find his number and it had proven to be damn near impossible since he was one of the most powerful men in the city. Something that should have sent you to the hills screaming but instead it only excited you.
"Well, Miss Yln, I came to see, to kiss you, to take you out and woo you all over again." He stood up, your legs now spread to either side of his lips as he stood mere inches away from your face. Your breath caught on his lips as your heart raced intensely against your chest.
The office was now thick with tension as Chan stared down at you, the door was closed but the risk of the two of you being walked in on hung in the air. Your eyes met, exchanging a heated gaze that spoke volumes of the unspoken desires you'd been suppressing for days now. 
"So then kiss me," You barely had time to finish before Chan's hand gently cupped your face, the touch was tender and yet possessive at the same time. Your lips met together in a passionate kiss, the pent-up frustration you'd been holding onto for four days finally unravelled as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.
Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, the chance someone could walk in and find you like this only heated things up more.
"I want you," You whispered to him against his lips as you pulled away for air, your hands tangling into his tie and pulling him closer.
"I'll pick you up later," Chan chuckled about to walk away but you shook your head and pulled him back to you by his tie.
"I want you now," You whispered as his cheeks began to flame, Chan was no stranger to a woman's body and he wanted you too, badly.
"But someone could walk in." He teased you, his fingers slowly running between your thighs as he felt your entire body shiver at the small touch.
"Or does that turn you on?" His voice grew deeper and more seductive as his fingers traced further up your leg until they were right next to your throbbing cunt.
"Knowing that someone might walk in and see you getting the best fuck of your life?" He bit down on your neck softly as you let out a small moan,
"P-Please. Four days I've been left needy," Chan's face burnt red as he thought back on it and a smirk began to take over his face.
"Oh? You didn't do anything to help yourself?" 
"Maybe...But nothing was good enough," You admitted before Chan chuckled darkly, his fingers slowly pressing against your clothed pussy and rubbing small circles as you mewled out his name a little too loudly making him freeze.
"If we're going to play this game here, you have to be quiet, little mouse." The nickname made you shiver as he slowly began to sink to his knees in front of you.
"I don't get on my knees for just anyone, Yn," He warns you before hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear and pulling them down. Before you can see what he's doing or ask him his mouth is on you, hot and wet as he wraps your legs around his shoulder trying to get himself closer to you.
"Oh...F-Fuck," You hiss out, your hands struggling to find something to grab onto as you knock some of the things off your desk onto the floor.
"C-Chan," Your voice came out in a whisper as he used his tongue slowly against you building you up as he ate you out like a man starved. How did he know exactly the right spots to hit for you? Your hands slowly moved to his hair as you pushed him deeper into you, grinding against his face a little as you moaned out. His rhythm didn't speed up or change as you moved your hips to meet him, he didn't stop even as his hand moved to thrust a finger into you. It wasn't long until your toes were curling and you were seeing stars as you came around his fingers and on his face.
"S-Shit," You hissed out as he continues to eat you out while you ride out your orgasm. 
Chan smirked as he stood in front of you, his cock prominent in the tight pants he was wearing you bit your lip, reaching out to rub him through his pants.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Yn?" He asks plainly, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk.
"Yes." You smirked at him, your hands making quick work of the belt he was wearing as you undid it and pushed down the pants he was wearing. He was bigger than you were expecting him to be but you reached between you and took his cock into your hands gently rubbing him up and down as he let out a small groan.
"Do you have a condom?" You whispered to him, you didn't want to kill the mood but there was no way you were about to have unprotected sex with someone you barely knew. 
Chan took out of condom from his wallet and rolled it onto his long, hard and thick cock smirking down at you as you stared at him the whole time.
"You ready for me?" He whispers in your ear, biting down on your lobe as you nod at him, spreading your legs further apart. Chan eases into you slowly your eyes rolling back as you feel him hit the deepest parts of you.
"Oh shit," You moaned out unable to keep your voice down as he smirked at you, slowly pulling out only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. Neither of you cared that people could hear you outside of your office.
"M-More," You begged as he began thrusting into you, harder and faster. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as he fucked into you at a steady pace. You'd had sex before but this, this was ecstasy every single thrust sending you closer to the edge.
Everyone outside probably knew what you were doing but you didn't give a fuck,
"F-Fuck! Chan," You hissed out as his rhythm picked up your hands gripping onto him as your head fell onto his shoulder biting down on him,
"You're so tight baby, you close already?" He chuckled out through a moan as you clench around him tightly, cumming hard around him at his words. You couldn't hold back the scream anymore as you cried out his name, not even trying to stop yourself anymore.
"I wanna get fucked like she is," Someone said from outside of your office but Chan didn't care, he continued to pound into you as you felt yourself building up. There was no way he was going to make you cum again, not so close together and Chan grunts lowly. 
"So fucking hot, you like people hearing us?" He arches a brow at you as you whimper lowly, your mind already half gone thanks to the two orgasms he'd given you. 
"P-Please," You whispered needing another high from him as you bucked toward his hips, his fingers reaching down and playing with your clit. Chan pumps in and out of you ruthlessly and you cry out as you feel yourself at the edge once again.
"Cum for me, little mouse. I want to feel you cum around my cock," He groans in your ear, thrusting harder until you pushed right off the edge of the cliff cumming loudly around him and gripping onto his shoulders tightly.
Once Chan cleaned you up a little he smirked at you, running his hand gently over your cheek and kissing your lips softly.
"Let me drive you home," He whispered breathlessly, you glanced down at the time and shook your head, you still had a few hours left at work.
"I have to work." You admitted, pouting a little as you thought about going to work instead of going out with him.
"As the owner, I say you can go home," The sentence made you freeze as you turned to stare at Chan.
"Owner?" Your brow arched a little as you waited for him to answer, Chan suddenly felt as though he'd put his foot in his mouth but he nodded.
"Yeah, I've owned this place for years, never really bothered with it until now though."
"You're the reason I got the promotion?" Maybe it should have made you feel like you'd cheated your way out of it but you'd deserved it from the start,
"No. I'm the reason the woman who had it got fired and your sleazy boss. You got the promotion all on your own." He promised you, kissing your forehead softly and smirking as you grabbed your things from behind the desk.
"Does that mean I fucked my boss?" You wiggled your eyebrows at Chan who let out a deep chuckle.
"It was hot though," He winks as you kiss his jawline softly before the two of you head out of your office ignoring the looks you were getting from everyone else on the floor as you made your way to the elevators.
"I have a whole evening planned for you," Chan tells you as he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him breathing in deeply as he relaxes with you.
"Fun, I'll text Kat and let her know I'll be out late," Kat had moved into the huge apartment with you since you had so much space for only one person.
"No need, she's out with a friend." He winks at you before you head down to the garage floor of your building.
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~Six Months Later~
"Excuse me, I think I remember your driver almost killing me? I don't think it's a romantic meet-cute at all," You teased Chan, he was bragging to his friends about the romantic way the two of you had gotten together and you weren't going to let him bullshit about it.
"Okay fine, but I took you on many romantic dates to make up for it!" He countered, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap, kissing you deeply as his friends around him groaned at the two of you.
"I thought the honeymoon phase would have ended." Kat groaned at you before you threw a pillow in her direction, hitting both her and her date - Minho before going back to kissing your boyfriend.
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sanspuppet · 2 months
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~Public sex with Ateez
short scenario for each member
- the way i wrote the imagines can result quite different but i wrote this through different days so- idk just read it and you’ll understand lol
• this is a work of fiction and obviously i have no idea what are they into so please just take it as fake scenarios
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• Hongjoong
A scenario that has been going through my mind lately is going on a date with him to a fashion show, all dressed elegant and you being so feminine and attractive that he couldn’t wait long before being able to take that dress off of you. When all people are focused on watching the runway that’s about to start he’d squeeze your thighs and call for your attention, he’d whisper to your ear. “Let’s go now, i want you to go to the bathroom. Got that?” you’d blink confusedly. “But Joong, and the show?” “Fuck off, you’re the most beautiful person i could ever see tonight”
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• Seonghwa
Feeling like he’d get needy especially after performing one of those nasty ass choreos they made for their tour. He’d grow more impatient with every song until the last ones where it was quite clear that he was hard. He’d be good at pretending it doesn’t annoys him, but in reality he can’t wait to get rid of it and release all of his “sexiness” using you. You’d be waiting for him in the backstage, giving him a hug right after he comes in. He’d grab your waist and squeeze it tightly and pull you towards his dressing room, while being stuck on a deep kiss.
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• Yunho
I feel like you two would go on a date to night clubs and just vibe together along with the music. He’d find you very pretty with your favorite outfit and nice makeup, not to talk about how cute you looked with your cheeks flushed for the alcohol. He’d trail his own hand down his lap, trying to hide his hard-on. But after all, even if you two would fuck loudly in the bathroom, no one could hear you for the loud music… so why not? He’d simply stand up and take your hand, if you thought you were going to dance, as soon as he leads over the rest room you’d realize what are his real intentions.
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• Yeosang
I don’t know if i should call it actually public sex but i feel he wouldn’t be really into that either way so probably when you do have it, it’s in his car while parked on the side road or in a park. Maybe something before meeting other people and he knows he couldn’t have you properly until you come back home, so a quickie would be nice for him. He’d unconsciously advertise you by being very touchy even if his hands should be on the wheel. Then would park somewhere at anytime and ask you to ride him.
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• San
Probably this man likes very much having you take him randomly over the day, but despite this, i think he’s more into long sessions with multiple rounds. You’d tease each other very commonly but still public sex with him would happen only if the situation degenerates and the need is too hard to handle. Usually would have it in the bathroom of some members’ dorm. I think something light like just sitting on his lap or feeling the warmth of your body would turn him on so… yeah better not tease him much in public if you don’t want to be railed by him and still have to stay quiet to not being caught.
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• Mingi
I don’t know why but something tells me he’s pretty much into quickies and doesn’t give a fuck if there might be public. He likes showing you off and doesn’t bother much about showing he’s attracted to you too. Like i think he would be very flirty with you even in front of other people, teasing so much that at the end, you’re the one begging him to just fuck you in a corner wherever it is. Something about him just makes me think that he’d even ask his bros if he can use their bedroom just to fuck you if you’re at their place. Or even at work, i just think that he’d love to fuck in the practice room idk why.
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• Wooyoung
My thought on him is that he’d like to treat you like a princess and would love to go shopping with you. He would suggest you either cute and sexy outfits, just imagine having him sat on the little chair in the fitting room, watching you changing outfits. You stripping teasingly and smirk at him struggling to contain himself from fucking you right there in the closet. Well what can i say it wouldn’t be the first time it would happen hehe
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• Jongho
Gym sex. Fuckin gym sex with him help. Just imagine planning to work out together but ending up riding him because it’s your leg day while he’s laying on the bench and lifting weights 😮‍💨 Why is this scenario so damn hot to me? Having him under you, all sweaty and you can’t tell if he’s moaning for you or just because his muscles are sore from training. Not to mention that literally anyone could run into you two, fortunately he goes to a gym where it’s likely to be empty most of the time.
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taglist: @bunnyluvr25 @xonga @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @therealcuppicake @hongjoongswifefr @sugarnspice630 @stolasisyourparent @kaimisutra @jyunhosbby @pancake-freckle @cherrycel
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togrowoldinv · 6 months
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I Need You
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
When Natasha comes to you after a mission, she’s wounded and needs some help
Note: Soft Nat hehe. It’s just a quick little something. Enjoy!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
It’s a quiet night at your house when there is a knock at the door. You can see her silhouette in the dark as she waits outside.
“Natasha,” you say her name as you open the door. “I thought your mission wasn’t over for a few more days.”
“Hey,” she replies, her voice softer than usual. She looks around the road as if she is assessing for threats. “Can I come in?”
You step back and let her inside. In the light of the house, you notice how in pain she looks. Her face is pale, and her green eyes fight back tears.
“Natasha, are you-”
“You look good in my shirt,” Nat interrupts you. She manages to smirk despite the pain she is in.
“Thank you,” you say, almost distracted enough not to worry about her. That smirk is magical, and she knows it.
You notice her arm held to her side like she’s afraid to move it. Stepping closer to her, you reach for her hand. When she doesn’t reach back out, you know she’s hurt.
“Natasha, baby, let me help you,” you say gently. “Tell me where it hurts.”
Nat sighs, her façade breaking as she lets tears fall from her eyes.
“I can do it. I’m fine,” Natasha says. “I just- I felt like I needed to see you.”
“Come with me,” you say. She follows you to the bathroom where you open up a first aid kit. You gesture for her to sit on the counter. “Can you move your arm?”
“Yeah,” Nat says. When she does, she grunts out in pain. You see the dark spot on her shirt and feel your heart quicken.
“Natasha,” you whisper in astonishment.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she says. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t need to pretend, sweetheart. It’s me. I know it hurts,” you say.
You’re close enough to her for her to lean forward and rest her forehead on your shoulder. Even after months of being with you she doesn’t want you to see her crying.
“It’s okay, Nat. You’re safe now,” you say. You softly cradle the back of her head.
“It really hurts, y/n,” Nat says. You’ve never heard her sound so in pain before.
“How can I fix it?”
“I don’t know,” Nat says.
“Let me see,” you reply. Nat shifts off your shoulder and you gently lift her shirt up. You kiss her forehead as she shakily breathes.
You try to keep a neutral face as you see the wound on her side. It’s a cut, but not so deep that she is losing too much blood. Still, it’s a lot more than you could fix.
“I think I need to take you to the hospital, Natasha,” you say.
“No,” she replies quickly. “Just not tonight.”
“Natasha,” you try again. “I need to get you help.”
“I just need you,” she replies. “Please.”
“Okay, baby. Okay,” you say.
Natasha tells you how to wrap her wound for now and promises to let you take her somewhere to get help in the morning.
She is still in pain, but she feels better with every minute she is with you. She knows she’s going to be okay as long as she’s in your arms.
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after-witch · 6 months
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Horrorfest: Trick or Treat [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Title: Trick or Treat [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Synopsis: "Can you at least tell me where we're going?" Chrollo, in the driver's seat, says nothing. And you barely resist the urge to rip the blindfold off your head.
For Horrorfest request... Chrollo taking darling to a house & won't say the rest because the reveal is necessary for the catharsis.
notes: yandere, reader is kidnapped, emotional damage idk
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“Can you please tell me where you’re taking me?” The edge in your voice makes it crack like glass, a tone just as fragile as your poor nerves. Your fingers curl tighter against your thighs. Just what the hell is going on?
Chrollo is beside you in the driver’s seat, as always. He’d never trust you with a car, even in the ordinary circumstance you find yourself in them--traveling from place to place, whisked to hotels and hideouts and sometimes less-than-hospitable abandoned places. 
You can hear the gentle acceleration of the engine, the hum of the road underneath you, the rush of wind when he opens the window a crack. The weight of his presence is there, that almost imperceptible sensation of strength from his pure existence. 
But. 
You can’t see a damn thing through the blindfold he tied around your forehead after getting you into the car earlier this evening.
“You’ll see soon enough, dearest,” he answers finally. You swear you can sense the way his head glances down at your clenched hands. “Do try to calm down. I promise it’s nothing bad.”
You bite your cheek.
“Your definition of bad is often different from mine, so you can see why that doesn’t exactly reassure me.” 
The swerve of the car when it turns, more frequently now, like you’ve gone off the main road and are now somewhere more complicated. Where is he taking you, and why? There’s a thud in your heart when you consider the possibilities.
If this was simply a matter of moving to a new hideout, he would have told you; you would have packed your things, few though they are, and been given at least a vague schedule. Driving times. Flight take-offs. Whatever.
But tonight, he’d asked you to follow him after dinner, led you out to the car, and gently urged you inside. He ignored your questions. Then he said it would be a surprise and tied a blindfold around your eyes. 
There’s only the vaguest sense of time passing--how long have you been driving anyway? Wherever he was taking you, would you stay there long? Would you be back at the hotel by nightfall? You’d hoped to catch a horror movie marathon the hotel was hosting on its own channel. It was the only Halloween activity Chrollo had agreed to, since he didn’t like the idea of taking you out to a party and it wasn’t like a hotel was going to get trick-or-treaters. Maybe you could have asked him to get some decorations, but somehow the thought of taping up paper bats on the walls of the luxury hotel room didn’t feel in the spirit of the season.
The car comes to a stop and you lurch slightly in your seat.
Chrollo turns off the engines. He leans over and unbuckles your seatbelt. 
“Just a moment,” he says, and you swear your hear warm mirth in his voice. Asshole. He enjoys playing with you, doesn’t he? And that’s what this must be, some sort of sick game.
The door opens and there’s a whoosh of pleasantly cool air that smells like leaves and bonfires. He grabs your arm and helps you out of the car. You shiver, not from the chill. You’re outside, that much is clear. But where? And why? And for what?
”Chrollo,” you say, pleading. Your fingers dig into your upper arms. How much trouble would you be in if you just ripped the damn thing off your head on your own?
He chuckles, and he’s close enough that you can almost feel it. Finally his fingers fiddle with the knot of the blindfold and you feel it drop away before your eyes register that you can see again.
It’s--
It’s--
A neighborhood. An ordinary neighborhood. The evening has not quite settled in, and the sky reflects brilliant orange and red against rows of homes, all flickering yellows and purples and greens from Halloween decorations tacked and staked and pinned outside. The glow of lit jack o’lanterns practically shimmers against the dutifully swept sidewalks.
It makes your heart hurt to see this sort of life. 
“Why… did you bring me here?” A thousand thoughts rattle off, most of them not staying long to catch. The idea that he’s taunting you or teasing you comes to mind. Or maybe he’s got some target inside that he’s going to kill and make you watch as revenge for telling him that if he loved the expensive lingerie that found its way into your suitcase so much, he could wear it himself.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply takes your arm and you can do nothing but follow. Helpless thing that you are. Sure, there are people outside. Children itching to trick or treat, parents forcing them to pose for photos. And they’d be dead in a second (if they were lucky) if you said something to them. 
The house is nice. A typical suburban house, you suppose. There are orange-and-black garlands strewn about, a giant witch stood up in the corner with a cauldron that has fake lights and an artificial bubbling sound. 
There’s even a jack o’ lantern in front of the doorway, glowing softly from a tealight placed inside. It’s a pretty thing. Maybe you should have asked Chrollo if you could carve a pumpkin in the hotel, after all. 
When he gets to the front door, he stops and shoves his hands into his jingling pockets. He… has a key to the house, which should perhaps surprise you. But your heart is pounding and your nerves are frayed, and all you can do is think in alternating thoughts: why are we here, and why can’t I live like this?
The door creaks open. You half-expect something to jump out. A corpse. A member of the Phantom Troupe. Both?
But instead there’s just… a house. Just an ordinary house. With some of the lights on in the kitchen and a fake fireplace and fairy lights with orange pumpkins strung up in the entryway. Next to the coat rack is a table with an immensely large bowl filled with an assortment of candy. Chocolates and sour sweets and licorice. 
A few feet in front of the entryway is a rack of--clothes? No, they’re colorful and strange looking. Costumes, you realize. Halloween costumes. But why…
Your heart thuds, once, twice, three times.
“I don’t understand.” Your mouth is dry. Something in your chest tightens as Chrollo gently pushes you forward until you’re in front of the costume rack.
His voice comes from next to you, but you don’t dare face him. You don’t know what expression he will wear and worse than that, you don’t know what expression is on your face right now. But you know that it’s something too vulnerable to share with him so openly.
“You said you’d never been able to hand out candy to trick or treaters, didn’t you?”
It takes a few moments to hit you, and when it does, your hands wring together.
“So you… this is…” Not some awful, nasty trick, but something kind and done for you? You don’t say it. You don’t need to say it. The disgusted, awful relief of it--the gently rising pleasant surprise--must be showing on your face.
He holds up a princess costume while your mind tries to process what’s happening, and you shake your head at it. Too sweet and colorful for your vision of Halloween.
“Don’t think too much about it, dear,” he says, thumbing through the hangers of costumes. “Just find something and get dressed. I’m sure there will be plenty of kids coming to the door soon enough.”
Kids. In costumes. Trick or treating. 
At your--no, not your house, but maybe your house? In some way. Just for now. For the moment. For one one night--Halloween night.
That has to be good enough.
--
The witch costume is just the right size, but that’s no surprise. Chrollo has a shockingly detailed knowledge about your body; he’s even, with trial and error, mastered the art of nabbing nearly perfectly sized underwear across different brands. Bastard.
But you don’t think about that now. All you think about is how… spooky you look. How fun. How pretty, in that dark and morbid and delightfully Halloweeny way. 
You forgot how this felt, actually: wearing a real costume. Not the mask you put on every day to survive co-existence with Chrollo Lucilfer, but a real Halloween costume. Something shiny and cheap, not meant to be worn more than a few times before you find a broken seam, sigh, and chuck it out. 
In the end, you look like anyone else might, living in this house, dressed up on Halloween. A witch costume, complete with a hat and fake wart that you are sure is going to fall off your face within about 15 minutes thanks to some questionable quality sticker glue. 
When you step out to show Chrollo, you find not Chrollo, but a vampire in his place. Okay, okay. It’s Chrollo, wearing his normal outfit with a thin black cape lined in red over everything. He slicked back his hair--admittedly you prefer it loose, not that you’d ever tell him so--and it looks like he applied a thin layer of white powder to dilute his pallor even more. 
A vampire. Dracula. A bloodsucker. How appropriate for him. Not that you’d ever ruin this night by vocalizing that thought, so you bury it like a fake skeleton underneath the house of your mind. 
“You look marvelous,” he says, when you come out into full view. And you laugh immediately. Because he’s stuck fake fangs in his mouth. The cheap kind that looks like dentures. They make him sound absolutely ridiculous. 
He doesn’t take offense, or at least he hides it well. He pops the fangs out, a line of drool trailing after them and holds them in his hand. They glow a little green in the dimness of the house. 
“Too much?” You only smile in response, and he drops them in the trash. “They were uncomfortable, so it’s no loss. I’ll pretend that I keep my fangs hidden until I’m ready to bite.” The last words were spoken almost too lasciviously, and hIs gaze seems to lighten then. Because of course he’d feel better about looking like a fool as long as he could turn it around on you.
You don’t have time to let this bother you, though, because--
The doorbell rings. A quaint thing. Ding-dong.
Is it possible for your heart to stop while you’re still alive? Suddenly your legs feel heavy. Suddenly your whole body feels heavy. Suddenly you can’t possibly answer the door.
Ding-dong.
“Go on, love.”
Chrollo’s hand is on your shoulder and for once it feels reassuring rather than terrifying. You let him guide you to the door, which you open with trembling hands.
You’re greeted by a group of small children dressed up, holding out pillowcases and candy buckets.
“TRICK OR TREAT!!” 
You can’t speak. You forgot how to interact with normal people, normal things. No, no, it’s not just that. You want to cry. You’re going to cry. Because this is the first time you’ve ever opened a door to find smiling children waiting for candy on this most special of fall nights, a night when people can be anything, when the air itself feels magical.
You feel like you’re moments away from whirling around and running deep into the safety of the house when Chrollo touches your shoulder again. And his touch grounds you. Shakes you up. Snaps you out of it.
“O-Oh, I’m sorry!” You say, half-laughing, to the children who have begun to stare at you like a particularly curious bird in a tree. “Your costumes are just so cool, I was speechless!”
You begin to scoop handfuls of candy into their waiting bags and buckets. Most of them look eagerly at their growing haul and run away without another word.
One kid dressed like an oversized turtle yells out “THANKS!” before he, too, runs away. You look down the driveway and see that some of them have parents waiting, but most are traveling with friends. The turtle kid almost bowls over his mother, who looks back at the doorway. You expect her to wave and smile, but she only quirks her head a little at you before her son grabs her arm and drags her away.
You pay her little mind--it’s the trick or treaters that interest you, the way they happily shout to one another about what houses are giving out what, the shrieks you can hear when they are scared by electronic dolls that pop out when they pass a threshold. 
What a lovely thing, that freedom.
What a lovelier thing, right now, for you to play your part in it.
There are no other kids running up the sidewalk towards the house, so Chrollo shuts the door for you. There’s a silence between you, until Chrollo reaches up and wipes away at tears that had just begun to make themselves known in the corner of your eye.
“Are you all right?” His voice is low, soothing. He doesn’t usually tease you when you cry. Maybe he knows it would push you even further away. You wonder, briefly, if your tears or his touch smeared your carefully applied witchy eyeshadow.
“Yes,” you say, when you realize he actually wants an answer. “I’m just…” How to explain the feeling in your chest? This warm, fuzzy feeling that only comes on Halloween and that feels amplified by the role you’re playing right now. “It feels weird,” you decide on. “To be finally doing this.” 
Chrollo looks at you quietly. He nods, but says nothing more. 
A few moments later, that beautiful sound returns.
Ding-dong.
Ding-dong.
And--
”Trick or treat!”
--
The night goes on wonderfully. You stay more or less by the door, though you occasionally wander into the living room to admire the decorations. You wonder how long it took Chrollo to put them up. Maybe this was why he was gone for the better part of the previous day, setting everything up so it was just right for you. The thought makes you feel… pleasantly tingly. 
He thought of everything, actually. He even puts on a Halloween movie with the volume low, perfect for watching in between trick-or-treaters or peeking at from the entryway. While you’re handing out candy, you hear the microwave buzzing in the kitchen, and when you shut the door he hands you a plate with warm pizza on it.
It’s not the kind you usually get--you’re a pineapple on your pizza person, even if it might just condemn you to hell--but you suppose the options for pizza around here were different than in the city. It’s a little stale, too, but since it seems likely that Chrollo got it yesterday to avoid having to stop there on the way, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like some mediocre pizza was going to break the spell that the night was casting over you.
It was just… perfect. The air was cool but not terribly cold, and you felt like you could smell the leaves, the bonfires, the hint of apples and plastic pumpkin pails that seemed to rush through the door every time you opened it. 
Chrollo makes light conversation. Not the exhausting philosophical discussions that he likes to pull from you, usually in the late hours of the morning, but light, fun, casual. He asks about horror movies, horror books. He asks what you typically dressed up as when you were young, and chuckles when you rattle off the exact list of your costumes age 4 to 12 in sequential order.
It feels, heaven help you, domestic. Like the kind of life you might  have had, if Chrollo didn’t enter your life. Or if he wasn’t who he is, because he didn’t have to be out of the fantasy entirely. If he was the type to settle in the suburbs and buy a house with you and work 9 to 5 and come home tired but eager to see you, this could be your life. You would ask him to hang up the Halloween lights and he’d sigh but do it for you, because he knows you love it.
In return you’d promise to roast pumpkin seeds later that evening, and maybe even give him a kiss. The two of you could spend the night cozying up by the fire (a real one, not a fake one, perhaps you are too used to that luxury now--) drinking hot chocolate and making idle chit-chat. 
His arms wrap around you suddenly, and you almost flinch as the cobweb of your fantasy is unknowingly stepped through. This close, you can smell the powder on his face, see the little dots of it that have caked on his skin. 
“What are you thinking, dear?” 
You look at him and for once don’t feel like telling him to shove it. For some reason, hurting his feelings right now would actually make you feel worse, not better. Maybe it’s because you feel like you’re on high; maybe it’s because he did all this for you. 
“Just… that this is nice,” you admit. You smile at him, and it’s not forced. It really isn’t. “Thank you.” 
Chrollo presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I must say, my reward was well worth all this effort.”
You quirk your head, the gesture reminding you briefly of the mom from earlier before you return your focus to Chrollo. “What reward?’
Chrollo, surprisingly, pushes you a little bit away from him. A finger goes up to your chin and your cheeks feel heated at the sudden intimate touch.
“Seeing you light up like this all night. I don’t believe I’ve seen you like this before, not really.”
You feel silly. Not humiliated, but silly. This is the first time that he’s seen you happy, isn’t it? And you suppose, for someone like him, it must be some kind of treat for you to be happy. To be open. To not be hissing, metaphorically and otherwise, at his attempts to be around you.
It’s a little too much to confront right now. 
You grab a slice of the pizza he left sitting on the side table, and take a bite. You chew through the cold dough. “It’s hard not to have a good time on Halloween,” you mumble, averting your gaze. 
Chrollo chuckles at you, but lets you eat your pizza in peace. He takes up his own slice and chews, watching you look out the window, eager to see if more children come scampering down the walk.
--
You flick the porch light off with a sigh. The last trick or treaters have fizzled away, and the only people on the streets are tipsy people stumbling home from parties and the occasional person that you assume must be returning from a late night shift at work. 
There’s a certain magic to this, too, but it’s different from the tingling atmosphere of Halloween evening. Now it is a fading feeling, the last whimpers of the night as life returns to normal in the morning. 
“Shall we finish the movie?” Chrollo asks, and you nod. You may as well hold onto Halloween for as long as possible. 
There’s still some candy left in the bowl, and you grab the whole bowl as you head into the living room. Chrollo follows you, turning off the kitchen light as he goes. That leaves only the dim lighting in the living room from the fake fireplace and the glow of the TV, which is playing the last few minutes of a schlocky B-horror movie.
When he takes a seat on the couch and pats the spot next to him, you don’t hesitate. You don’t feel the need to, though you’d normally try to make a bargain for agreeing to sit next to him so readily. Now, though, you slide into the seat with the bowl in your hands and set it next to you. 
There’s only one chocolate bar left, and you impulsively grab it and hand the bar to Chrollo, who raises his eyebrows briefly before accepting it. 
“These are your favorite,” he says. “You eat it. I don’t mind.”
Your fingers curl on  your thighs, but this time you don’t dig into your skin. Instead you merely look at a bit of pizza grease shining from the reflective TV light. “I know, but… it’s…” The words come out slow and sticky, like candy stuck to your teeth. “It’s a thank you. For this, I mean. Tonight.” 
“Ah,” he says. After a moment, he unwraps the bar. Suddenly half a chocolate bar is shoved into your line of sight, and you look at Chrollo before letting out a little snort and taking it. 
Sharing food with Chrollo didn’t feel so awful tonight.
Lots of things didn’t feel so awful tonight, actually. Like being in the same room as him. Talking with him. Laughing with him.
And maybe, maybe it wouldn’t feel so bad if you scooted closer to him, either. Just because the movie was actually a little scary, a side-effect of the new environment and too much greasy pizza on  your nerves, probably. 
So you do. And he doesn’t say a thing about it and that feels amazing, because if this was your life, it wouldn’t be so extraordinary to sit thigh-to-thigh with your lover on Halloween night. It wouldn’t be so extraordinary to turn slowly towards him and feel a flush of heat in your cheeks, your chest. Heat that was accompanied by gratitude for the way he found this abandoned house and decorated it so fully for Halloween and got you dinner and let you be normal, so perfectly normal, for one single night.
It wouldn’t be strange at all, really, for you to lean in close and kiss him on the mouth.
Chrollo’s breath mingles with your own and it feels like your first kiss, though your logical mind knows it’s far from it. But it’s the first kiss you’ve given him. Your hidden kiss, then, special and secret.
When it’s over, you lean your head against his chest and let him wrap his arms around you. The sofa creaks and you wonder, abruptly, why there was a sofa in a house where no one lived. Why a house with no one in it would have a fridge stocked with food or a manicured lawn or toiletries scattered in the bathroom. Why some of the parents looked at you funny, even after your fake wart had fallen off.
“Chrollo?” 
“Mm?” He strokes your hair, keeping your head against him. 
“How… did you come across this house? Did someone move out? Or--”
You don’t vocalize it. And with Chrollo, you don’t need to. He knows how your mind works better than you do, sometimes.
You hear him intake a breath, formulating an answer, and suddenly shake your head. 
“No. Don’t,” you murmur, feeling yourself beginning to slide into sleep. An easy sleep. A completely ordinary Halloween-night sleep, brought on by the excitement of the holiday, the thrill of the goblins and ghouls who roamed the night and were satisfied with fistful after fistful of candy from your hands and nothing else.
“Never mind.” You whisper against his chest, and let your eyelids close. “Please, whatever happened, don’t ever tell me.” 
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