#you know when you call a place your second home for so long and then it stops being that

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 1 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language a/n: heyyyy everyone! my anons have been begging for another series like anyone else, so here's one i've been thinking about for a second and finally put to paper. i hope you like this just as much as 'anyone else'. btw, if you guys want to send in long ass asks live reacting to my writing (whoever @imaginespazzi 's anon is that does this, i LOVE it) it's such a great way to know what you do and don't like about my writing, and i'd so appreciate it. love you guys!

I blink as the sun hits my eyes, almost blinding me. I stretch at my front door, loosening my muscles that are still a little tight from sleep. I squint against the blaring sunlight, then push my AirPods in and start off down my street. It’s this quaint little neighborhood in Virginia, a not-too-far cry from my home state of Minnesota. 

My run is peaceful, Kendrick Lamar blaring in my ears, the music a smooth symphony of artful lyrics backed by a spurring beat. I take down about three miles, reaching what looks to be an old basketball court before slowing to a jog, then a halt. I pant, placing my hands on my hips and allowing my chest to heave as I recover from the run. My sports bra and shorts are soaked with sweat, but the summer air is refreshing.

I tip my head back, soaking in the sun, when I hear a voice behind me. “Hey, you shooting or…” I whip my head around, the voice impossibly and frighteningly familiar. 

No fucking way.

“Maya.”

“Paige,” I breathe. 

She hesitates, a ball braced at her side, and it looks so natural, just as it always has. She’s wearing a white tee shirt and dark shorts, with blue, red, and white shoes on her feet. Her hair is parted down the middle, slung into a bun at the base of her neck. My breath catches when my eyes meet her stark, blue ones - pools of crystal that glimmer in the summer sun. Her limbs are long and she’s tan, her lips stuck in that damned half-smirk that used to drive me crazy. It fades from her face a little as she takes me in, and I cross my arms over my stomach self-consciously.

“What are you… what are you doing here?” I swallow hard as I stutter over my words.

She coughs awkwardly, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. “My friend, Azzi - don’t know if you remember her, um… She lives here. In this neighborhood. But we also moved to Virginia when we- when I left for school.”

I remember Azzi. She was one of Paige’s basketball friends, a tall, pretty girl with dark hair and a kind smile. Paige clears her throat. “You… uh, what about you?” I blink. “Oh, um. Yeah, same, actually, my family moved here. Also.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

We’re quiet for a few more minutes. It’s my turn to clear my throat awkwardly.

“Still dancing?” She asks. 

I laugh nervously. “Can’t seem to stop. Still hooping?”

She smiles a little more at that. “Can’t seem to stop,” she echoes back to me. Paige hesitates for a moment.

“You look good,” she admits after a few moments.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Thanks, um… you do, too. Look good, I mean. You look great!”

She raises an eyebrow at my rambling. “Great?” She muses.

I scoff. “No, good. You look good.”

“No, I got it the first time.” Her smirk is widening, her tone teasing.

“Good.”

“Not great?” She’s pushing my buttons now.

“Paige, stop,” I blurt out.

It hangs over us - my usage of her name, the undeniable tension that lingers in the air, nearly suffocating. 

She looks down at the ground, kicking at it. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 

I sigh. “No, you’re fine. I should- I should go.”

“Maya, don’t do that. Look, I’m sorry-”

“No, I should get home. It was good to see you.” 

Stubbornly, I plug my headphones in, pretending not to hear her voice calling out my name, the sound of it echoing behind me, praying I can drown out the past if I just turn my music up loud enough.

************

“You’re doing it wrong. Put your foot down on the off beat.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Paige demands, and I bite back a grin.

Patiently, I re-explain the 8 count to her. “It’s just a stupid TikTok. Bro, you’re so extra,” she whines. I hold my hands up. “You’re the one who said you wanted to learn it for real. Like, dancer-style.” 

“I never said that.”

“I think those were actually your exact words. Okay, look-”

Paige groans. “Can we take a break?” She begs, grabbing her phone and tossing it onto her bed. She collapses onto it right after, shrugging her shirt off before falling back onto the pillows. I roll my eyes, grabbing my own phone. I sigh, looking at my notifications. Paige’s eyes flicker to mine. “What? Nicky again?” I shake my head. “It’s just… I need to break up with her.” Paige tries and fails to stifle a grin. “You think she knows?” She asks. There’s a hint of smugness to her tone that I don’t like. 

I narrow my eyes as she eases off the bed and approaches me, slinging her arms around my waist. “Knows what?” I ask. Paige smirks. “You know what,” she smiles, dipping her head to mine. I shove at her chest, but she pulls me closer. “Knows what we’re really doing?” Paige teases. “Shut up, Paige,” I chide, but she moves in, anyway, slotting her lips against mine in a slow, meaningful kiss.

Her lips work against mine skillfully, and though I’ve only kissed Paige a few times by now, melting into her is only instinct. “Did you eat my Nerds?” She demands, pulling away and licking her lips. I crinkle my nose at her. “Maybe?” She shakes her head at me, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she hoists me up, tossing me onto the bed. “You’re gonna pay for that,” she warns playfully, before tackling me, fingers poking into my sides and eliciting raucous laughter from the both of us. “Okay, okay! I’ll buy you more, stop! Stop!” I shriek. She collapses on top of me, ignoring the way I push at her shoulders. 

Paige stares down at me, then leans down to connect our lips again, mouth dancing languidly with mine. I sigh, pushing a hand into her hair and responding eagerly, winding my leg between hers. “Tell her,” she urges, pecking me once. I sigh. “I know. I feel awful about it.” She pushes her body slightly up and nudges my nose with hers. “Come on. She’s not stupid.” She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re… obvious. You know?” I raise my eyebrow. “If you mean that everyone can tell how bad you want me, then yeah,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth, hitting me on the shoulder. “Tch. You know what I mean. We… were gonna happen.”

I grin at her, though I don’t mean to. “You seem pretty confident about that,” I muse. She grins back at me, her mouth hovering over mine. “Good. I am.”

***************

My run home is more of a sprint, and I’m absolutely spent when I shove through my front door. “Maya!” My mom calls. “Come help with the groceries!” I oblige, unlacing my shoes and skidding into the kitchen. My mom’s head is stuck in the fridge, trying to make room for all the new produce she’s just bought, so I make myself busy storing away the pantry foods.

“You will not believe who I ran into at the store!” My mom exclaims, poking her head out from behind the fridge door. She’s still in her scrubs, probably just having finished off a shift at work. I raise an eyebrow. “Michelle Obama?” I ask. She frowns at me. “You’re not funny.” I shrug. “I beg to differ.” 

My mom is definitely more of my best friend than my actual mom. I mean, she works so much, and I’ve had to practically raise my brother. Plus, with my dad out of the picture since… forever, she’s really all I had.

“Anyway,” she says pointedly, dusting off her hands. “I was at the store, and I ran into Bob Bueckers! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen the Bueckers’ in years, and you and Paige were so close…” My mom continues speaking, I’m sure, but there’s a sudden muffled tone to it, like there’s water in my ears. 

It’s just the mention of her name. I hadn’t heard it in years, had tried my best not to even think of her because I knew it would hurt. And seeing her today…

It isn’t fair. She does look great - better, somehow. Not the tall, lanky teenager I was used to. She’s a whole woman, now - muscled and lean, much more sure of herself. And yet… so much is the same - that damned perpetual half smile on her face, the way she tilts her head, the way her eyes glint. I can’t help but wonder if other things are the same, as well.

If her hands are as warm as they always used to be.

If she still picks her face when she’s nervous.

Fuck. Stop it.

“Did you hear what I said, sweetie?”

I shake my head out of my reverie, turning back to my mom. “Uh, no?”

“I invited them over for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

I splutter, processing what she’s just said. “I’m sorry. You what?”

*************************************

“Uh… here.”

I gingerly take the loaf of banana bread from Paige. I don’t meet her eyes as I let her, her brother, her dad, and her stepmom into the house. “Thanks,” I mumble. Drew stares up at me. “You look different,” he says matter of factly. I smile a little at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I tease. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll let you know,” he informs me, then skips past me. My little brother, Matthew, catches sight of him, and the two of them run off eagerly to play together.

My heart squeezes a bit at this. I hadn’t realized that Paige and I… growing apart, I suppose one could call it, would mean that our brothers would lose a friendship, too. “He’s, uh… He’s tall, now,” she tries, hesitantly. I glance up at her from the side of my eye, walking to place the dessert on the dining table. She follows me. I hate that she does. I hate that she still smells like herself, that the way she looms over me feels oh-so-familiar.

I toy with the sleeve of my top nervously. “Is that- is that mine?” Paige blurts out suddenly. I glance down at my navy blue top, and my eyes widen. She’s right. It is her shirt, and I hadn’t even realized. It’s a bit big on me, and I’d found it in a box after we’d moved to the new house. “Oh. I guess so, do you want it back? I can go change?” I yammer, and she shakes her head frantically. “No! You don’t have to- That’s not what I meant, you-” She clears her throat.

“It looks nice on you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I chance a glance at my feet, my hands, anywhere but her. She sighs. “Well, this is fucking awkward,” she mutters. I laugh hollowly. “Whose fault is that, hm?” I say, and I can’t keep the acrid taste of resentment out of my voice. I don’t miss the way her eyes flit to mine, mouth twisting with an unspoken response. “Maya-” she starts. “We should go help,” I interrupt, turning on my heel and walking quickly to the kitchen. 

As though it couldn’t get any more awkward, Paige ends up right across from me at dinner. Our parents chatter away, our little brothers in some heated discussion about basketball, and all she and I can do is pick at our food. There are onions in the stir-fry my mom made.

Paige hates onions.

I stifle a grin, despite myself. She’ll eat them, anyway, but I see her pushing them around her plate, putting it off. “Problem, Paige?” I ask sweetly. She narrows her eyes at me. “Not at all,” she shoots back. My mom abruptly stops the conversation she’s having. “Are you alright, honey? Is the food okay?” Paige nods hastily.

“Yes, Ms. Jacobs! It’s so good,” she reassures her. My mom cocks her head, sharp as ever. “Well, you’ve hardly touched it!” I bite back a laugh as Paige shovels a huge scoop into her mouth. “Really good,” she says around the food, smiling as best as she can at my mom. My mom nods, satisfied, and turns away. Paige shoots me a look, kicking me under the table.

I’m shocked. So shocked that the action is natural for her, and shocked at what I do next: kick her back. She gasps, and I guess the huge bite she’s just taken goes down the wrong pipe. She begins coughing violently, and my eyes widen. “Paige? Maya, honey, take her to the kitchen! Get her some water,” she instructs, concerned. Paige thumps her chest, holding up a hand. “All good, I swear,” she tries to say, but her coughs swallow her words.

“Okay, get up. Come on,” I sigh, walking around the table to haul her to her feet by her elbow. I drag her to the kitchen, patting her on the back. I hand her a water bottle from the fridge and she accepts it gratefully. When she looks to the ceiling, her eyes are glassy with tears. “You’re such a little shit,” I sneer. “Me?” She demands indignantly. “Yes! I didn’t even kick you that hard,” I complain.

She raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to show you?”

“You kicked me first!” 

“You were instigating,” she hisses back.

“Spell ‘instigating’, Paige.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Find someone else to do it. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”

We both fall silent at that. Then, realizing how close we’ve gotten, we back away.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

She sighs. “No, it’s… I deserve that.”

I bite my lip, glancing at the ceiling. “It’s fine. It’s been… what, three years?”

“Still. I should’ve-”

“Look, dude, I’m over it. I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say. Lies. I’m not over it. Not even close. 

She blinks. “Yeah, no. Of course. I’m- I’m over it, too.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

It’s so painfully awkward that I want to scream. This is someone who had seen me at my worst, who had held me sobbing when I hadn’t gotten into the school I wanted.

This is the person who sat with me when my dad died, and I had grappled with the grief of losing someone I had hardly ever known. 

This is the person who had seen all of me, who had taken my virginity, who had kissed away all my fears and made me feel loved and safe and whole - and the person who had made all of that come crashing down in one fell swoop.

And now I look at her, standing in my kitchen, far from the Minnesota homes we both grew up in. The sharp pain of ‘I don’t fucking know you anymore’ stabs at my heart, nestles into my throat, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. 

I turn away from her and march back into the dining room.

I’m done letting her make me cry.

It’s later that night, long after Paige and her family have left, when I’m finishing up washing the dishes that I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if my mom is expecting someone. Drying my hands off with a towel, I warily open the door.

It’s Paige. My breath catches.

“Hi,” she starts uneasily.

“Hey. Did you forget something?” I ask, keeping my distance.

“Huh? Oh, no. I just…” She swallows hard, looking at her feet.

She clears her throat. “Can we talk?”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 

He lost his family. 

He lost his life. 

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom. 

He lost himself. 

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street. 

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tw: stalking #stalker!bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes x you #Every breath you take (Prologue) #bucky barnes x y/n

[polaroidpascal]

appetizer || joel miller

PART 1 || AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : joel miller x f!reader

summary : joel finds the note you left in his lunch.

** can be read standalone, it’s porn with minimal plot 🫠 **

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak, domestic life with joel, sarah and ellie very briefly mentioned, joel is mid-to-late-30s, joel being big kinda mentioned, sexting, these two maniacs sending spicy pictures and videos to each other, masturbation (f! and m!), pet names and praises (darling, good girl, baby…), joel using his manners (you’ll see what i mean), if i missed any tags, lmk!!

WC : 2.6k

Just as you hit send, your phone chimes again. A text from Joel. You little shit. You stop for a second before clicking the notification, confused. You see three little bubbles pop up and then a picture. The note you left in his lunch this morning.

When Joel hopped in his truck to go to work, it took every creaky bone in his body not to say fuck it and march back inside to you. But alas, he had a job to do.

As best as he could, he tried to calm himself down, already half hard again after taking you on the couch not even ten minutes before just thinking about when he gets to come home to you.

Eventually, the monotonous sounds of the road lull his brain to normal and he gets to work no problem, starting his early day. His crew gets there not too long after him, clearly not happy that they are also spending their Saturday morning on the job.

“Man, it’s too early for all this. I miss my bed,” one gripes.

“Quit your whining,” Joel says. “The earlier we start, the earlier we go home. So pick up a drill and get to work.”

And they do just that. The day passes quicker than he thought it would despite how badly he didn’t want to leave this morning, and he does a pretty decent job staying focused, he thinks. Every now and then, though, he pauses, remembering how he left you. Naked on the couch, blanket lazily draped over your hips, the stretch of him still lingering between your legs… He would quickly distract himself just trying to make it through the day.

But he spent the majority of it half hard and adjusting his pants as discreetly as he could.

Finally, it was around “lunch” time (making it to 9 am after working for hours counts, right?) and Joel retreated to his truck as the other guys ran off to whatever fast food place they were craving.

Guess I would’a had time to grab somethin’ after all, he thinks. But the lunch box in his passenger seat is calling to him, and he lets himself recount the morning he’s had.

He thinks about you dancing around the kitchen packing his food, no idea that he was there the whole time… sneaking up behind you… carrying you to the couch… but he stops himself again before he gets too worked up and opens his lunch.

That’s when he sees it.

Immediately, he grabs his phone.

Your eyes flutter awake when the warm sunlight streams in through the blinds. The beams softly cascade across your face as you slowly stir awake. You’re still laying just how Joel left you earlier, adorned with a blanket that you didn’t notice he draped over your naked body before he left for work. You stretch and nestle into the soft cushions and plush blanket, bringing it up to your face and settling in with a content hum.

A tinge of panic fills your body when you remember that Sarah and Ellie are still at their friend’s house, and you quickly sit up to check your phone. To your relief (and utter surprise at the luck), their friend’s mom had texted you that they were going to take the girls to the museum today after their very persuasive begging the previous night.

You huff a laugh to yourself and text back, so fun!! hope y’all have a great day, let me know what we owe you to cover their cost!

Y’all. Maybe you would benefit from a little bit of time away from—

Just as you hit send, your phone chimes again. A text from Joel.

You little shit.

You stop for a second before clicking the notification, confused. You see three little bubbles pop up and then a picture.

The note you left in his lunch this morning.

On top of his sandwich container is a sticky note reading, “I can’t wait to suck your dick later! xoxo :P” You start texting back:

what’s wrong baby? lol

I can barely focus already after this morning and now you pull this.

i’m sorry <3

No you’re not.

You lay back on the couch giggling like a schoolgirl covering yourself in the blanket he laid on you earlier.

you're right, i don't lol

Just then, you get an idea, feeling particularly mischievous this morning.

where are you right now

What?

are your boys around?

No I’m in my truck.

You smirk to yourself and open your camera, slipping the blanket down to only cover the mound between your legs and one hip while the other protrudes up, the light hitting it just right. You angle the camera to capture the full length of your naked body, twisting a little to accentuate your curves and hit send.

It takes a minute for his response to come in. Fuck darling you’re still on the couch?

of course i am, right where you left me ;)

That’s my good girl

Just a silly little text has your insides turn mushy. You feel a warm tingle creep down your spine and you squeeze your legs together. You text back:

how much time do you have

About 30 minutes

oh perfect, that’s plenty of time :)

Plenty of time for what?

You reach down between your legs and feel the slick just starting to pool there, spreading it through your folds and coating your fingers. You open your camera again and start a video slipping two fingers inside, pulling them out with a string of arousal still connecting them to your core.

It's no time before he’s texting you back: Oh my god

Back in his truck, he’s losing his mind.

Watching you slip your fingers inside with such ease… seeing the shiny strings hanging off your pretty fingers… his cock bounces in his jeans and he palms himself over his clothes as he replays the video for the third time in a row.

like what you see?

God, do I, he thinks. He looks around to make sure he’s out of sight, luckily parked facing away from where anyone might catch him, and he reaches for his pants. He unbuttons his jeans and opens the zipper, reaching into his boxers to pull out his almost fully hard cock. He tugs up and down a few times before he lets go, fumbling with his phone to open his camera before reaching back down and videoing.

You tell me, he says back.

you’re dirty. i like it.

He chuckles at your text before another one comes in. pump it harder.

Bossy

you want more pics or not?

Immediately, he sends back: Yes ma’am.

bet you wish it was my hands instead huh

You know I do, he says. And he really does. Your soft hands feel angelic when you get him off, rubbing his length just right every time.

i wish you were filling me up

Yeah? Fingers too small?

wayyy too small. yours are so big

His cock bounces imagining how he would — should — be fucking you into that couch again for the second or maybe even third time of the day, who knows.

Not just my fingers baby

fuck, i know

Show me how much you want it

It takes a minute for the picture to come through, but he nearly comes at the sight of it. Your glistening pussy shining in the soft sunlight, your slicked fingers spreading you open perfectly showing him everything he wants to see. He almost forgets to respond altogether.

Fuck darling. Need to fill that pussy up

i wanna be on top of you. i wanna feel you in my lungs joel

Fuck, He thinks, feeling a tingle run down his spine thinking about how he would bury himself in you, just like he did this morning. He’d fill you up just like you need. He’d fuck you so good, you’d forget how to speak. His hand starts to move faster, his mind clouded with images of you straddling him, bouncing on his cock and making the truck shake.

you still there?

Yeah I’m here. Feels too good

pretending it’s me? pretending you’re fucking me?

Yes baby. Wish I was fucking you so good

His tip is turning red, the veins in his cock getting more and more pronounced. He keeps rubbing up and down, squeezing his hand at the top just a little bit, just like you do because you know it drives him crazy, and little beads of precum weep out. He’s getting closer.

He watches your message bubbles pop up and then disappear, being replaced a second later with an audio message. He turns his volume up and eagerly hits play.

Absolutely lewd sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy echo from his phone. “Shit—“ he gasps when he hears your soft moans in the back too. He plays it back again, matching each noise with a stroke of his hand pretending it’s him slipping in and out of you. “Fuuuck…” he whispers, playing it again, stroking himself harder.

Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum soon

yeah just from that? you wanna see what it looks like again?

Yes please I do

oh you're so polite

He slows his hand some, wanting this to last just a little bit longer, eagerly awaiting for your picture.

It sends, and a deep moan slips out on accident. Your full body is on display, knees bent and spread wide with your hand still buried inside. Your boobs sit perfectly where you lay, the hardened buds of your nipples showing him just how much you’re enjoying yourself.

Fuck you’re so fucking hot

feels so good joel. i wanna feel your hands all over me

Squeeze those pretty tits for me gorgeous it’ll feel good

A minute passes before the next text comes in. fuck joel it does feel good. need your mouth on me so bad

He can’t even type normally anymore, his thoughts are racing and he can only focus on the heartbeat he feels thrumming in his length.

I want it too baby feels so good I want to taste you

He’s so close now. It’s only a matter of time before he spills out onto himself picturing you on top of him, writhing and whining as he fucks you.

can you do something for me?

What do you need darling

send me a video of you cumming all over yourself. i know you’re close

His breath hitches. Yes ma’am

good boy

That one. That text right there.

Good boy.

That’s the one that does him in.

You slide your fingers in and out trying to match the way Joel curls them just right. You can’t quite get it like he can, but it’s still pretty damn close. You pet the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you and your hips sputter. Your phone rests on your chest as you palm your tits, just like he told you to, waiting for his video to send.

The pressure builds and builds and builds, your hand wandering down to your clit while the other hand pumps in and out of your heat. Just then, your phone buzzes.

You rip your hand away from the teasing circles it draws and see the preview of the video, the picture showing the moment his white spend spills out of his cock. You’ve never pressed play on a video so fast in your life.

Joel knows you like to hear him whine, and being alone in his truck gives him the perfect opportunity to sound as desperate as he wants. You turn the volume up and hear his panting and grunting, The wet sounds of his hand fisting his cock accompanying his grunts and moans. “Fuck, angel… ‘m gonna cum…” he grunts, holding his breath for a second as the debauched squelching fills the air of the truck. He gasps and absolutely whimpers, “Fuck… oh, shit—!”

The thumb on your occupied hand finds its way to your clit while the free one holds your phone up. You watch in awe as ropes of cum spurt from his cock painting his stomach and the hem of his shirt where he didn’t pull it up far enough. His hips desperately drive up into his hand, the one holding the phone shaking as he groans your name, grunting with each rope that shoots out of the aching, blushing tip. Even when he’s done, his cock twitches with the lingering spasms of his orgasm. He finishes with a heavy sigh, an exasperated and breathy “Fuckin’ hell…” and the video ends.

The sweet sounds of his desperate whines bounce around your head and bring you dangerously close to your orgasm. You pant as you drive your fingers into your throbbing pussy furiously, punching that soft spot perfectly and you quickly open your camera, pressing record.

Joel sits in the afterglow of his orgasm trying desperately to catch his breath. His head is thrown back, chest heaving, and he glances down at the mess he made. His hand is still lazily gripped around his now softening cock while his other grips his phone, dangling to the side of his leg. He feels it buzz and looks down.

Another video.

He brings the phone to his view and presses play.

His cock jumps when your sweet gasps of air fill his ears as you whine and writhe on your fingers. “yes, yes, yes… oh, my god…” you whimper as your fingers drive into your weeping core. Suddenly, your stomach tenses and your hips drive into your own hand, a desperate moan exploding from the deepest part of your chest. You try to drive your fingers further into your heat as you grind your hips through each wave of your orgasm.

Your whines and whimpers and moans makes Joel's vision tunnel, watching with wide eyes as you take what you need from yourself. He feels his cock twitch again in his grip that he didn’t realize has tightened a little more now, the blood barely starting to rush back between his legs.

“Holy shit…” he says to no one, in absolute awe of your beauty.

thank you for that :)

Thank me? Thank you, gorgeous. That was so fucking hot

you made a mess lol

You’re not so clean yourself

ha. ha. ha.

What the hell am I going to do now

check your lunch babe, i didn’t forget the napkins this time ;)

He peers into his lunch box and chuckles. My sweet girl he sends as he reaches to grab them and clean himself up some.

and you still have almost 10 minutes to eat, told you it was plenty of time

Can’t wait to get home and get my real meal though

can’t wait for my meal to come home either. i wrote that note for a reason babe

He inhales sharply as his cock twitches again, barely starting to harden once more. Christ, this girl is insane, he thinks, but now more than ever he can’t wait to get back home to you.

Well I’m making these boys work double time then. We actually don’t have much more to do

hurry up, i’ll be waiting. right here where you left me ;)

You won’t be waiting long darling I promise

Joel tosses his phone to the side, a deep sigh releasing from his chest before he tucks himself back into his pants the best he can. He sits up a bit to eat his lunch after he realized he was very slumped down in his seat.

The other guys pull up one by one as they return from their lunch breaks, Joel sitting on the porch of the house waiting for them all to get back. Once the last of them shows up, he immediately starts ordering them to get going.

“Damn, boss! What’s the rush? We started so early, we pretty much have all day!”

He shoots the man daggers with his eyes. He needs not say more for them to get the memo and they all pick up their tools.

“Double time, boys. We’re gettin’ this shit done fast.”

Because I’ll be damned if I don't get my dessert.

a/n : thank you guys so much for 200 followers !! it always makes me so happy to see people enjoying my stuff and I'd so grateful that y'all decided to stick around 🥹 (and now i may or may not have a third part in mind... but shhh no one say anything, it's a secret)

#joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou #the last of us #tlou one shot #the last of us one shot #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fic #this is what happens when the mental illness gets way too out of hand

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Late night calls || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ANGEL - Toby Mai

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: Days when you're apart are always tough. They get lonely without your other half. Nightly calls make those days slightly better. Especially when he falls asleep after a tiring day.

Word count: 822

Masterlist

Your phone starts ringing. Jack’s contact name shows up on your phone. You answer the call and the familiar sound of the call getting connected chimes. “Hi, baby.” Jack’s tired voice rings out through your phone. You get comfortable in bed before replying. “Hey. You looked great today. How are you feeling?” You ask softly after praising him. He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s a win, so I feel great. You were watching? I thought you said you were going to be busy.” You hum in response. “I was.” You pause, a cheeky grin forming on your face. “But I happened to be watching when you scored.” You can already tell he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. “I’m glad you were watching for a few seconds.” He retorts. You laugh, “come on. I might be busy, but I’ll always be watching you play when I can.” He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he smiles behind the phone. He’s immensely grateful that you always manage to watch him play, whether that’s on the TV or laptop, or when you show up at the home or away games sporting your devils’ jersey with the number 86 and the name Hughes.

He yawns quietly. “Thank you for watching. Wish you were here though.” He says softly. “Want to switch to video call? I want to see your pretty face.” He adds. You chuckle but press the camera button, requesting to change the call to video. He instantly accepts. His face fills your screen. He shifts in bed before propping his phone up on an extra pillow. He smiles when he sees you wearing his shirt to bed. “Are you tired?” You ask quietly, concern laced in your voice. He blinks a few times, trying to blink the sleep away. “A little. I’m fine though, I’m not falling asleep on you.” You raise an eyebrow. Knowing him, he’ll be doing the exact opposite. “Alright, if you say so. If you’re tired you don’t have to stay on call with me. We can talk some more in the morning.” You offer him. He immediately shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I miss you.” He says stubbornly. Your heart swells at his last comment. You miss him too, a lot. You’re not apart from each other often. You’re usually by his side whenever he goes away on his roadies. However, this time you had some affairs that you needed to deal with. Hence why you didn’t go with him.

You talk for a while as the night becomes darker by the hour. You can see that he’s starting to fall asleep. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.” You try convincing him. He hums, “in a little bit.” He says stubbornly yet again. A couple of minutes pass while you’re talking about your day. You realize it’s getting quieter and quieter on his side. The occasional hums and shuffling from him turn to pure silence. You look at him through the screen. Only to see his eyes closed, arms tucked into him, and his mouth slightly agape. He’s sleeping. He actually fell asleep on you. Even though he so stubbornly told you he wasn’t going to. He did end up doing the opposite. You don’t hang up on him and you certainly don’t wake him up. He had a long day, so it’s no surprise he fell asleep. It’s oddly peaceful having him sleep on the other side.

You continue scrolling through social media on your phone. Having the video call minimized in the corner of your screen. Eventually, you feel yourself growing more tired. Sometimes you hear the occasional snore coming from him while he sleeps. You close the app and return to the video call. “Good night. I love you.” You mumble quietly, to not wake him up. He lets out a murmur but stays asleep. You cover your mouth to minimize noise as you let out a chuckle. You leave the call and place your phone on the dresser. You close your eyes. Before you know it, you’re asleep yourself.

The next morning you’re greeted by a flurry of texts from him. You smile to yourself and shake your head. You hope this boy never changes. He’s the reason you wake up with a wide smile.

I fell asleep

Sorry baby didn’t mean to

Did you sleep well at least?

I’m going off to morning skate in a bit

Remember to eat well since I know you like to skip it even though it’s not good for you

I’ll call you later

I love you

You put your phone down after replying to him. You get up and start getting ready. You should get started on your day. He’s returning home in a few days. You can’t wait for that day. You have so much to tell him that a phone call won’t do justice, and you’re sure he feels the same way.

#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #drabble #fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, vaginal fingering, dirty talk

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Part Fifteen of Ink & Needle

You and Simon start the trip he's been wanting to take you on. Simon thinks he sees a familiar face.

Chapter Fourteen

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

It takes Simon a week to move his schedule around.

He wanted things to be smoothed out sooner, but sometimes rescheduling takes patience and careful planning. This is why he needs a second person just to keep the scheduling fucking handled. Simon is an organized person, especially when it comes to his work, but even he is beginning to slip.

Simon makes a mental note.

Create a fucking job listing for a goddamn personal assistant.

He runs his tongue over his teeth and then sighs. Simon is only lying to himself. He likes to handle things on his own which is why he was so effective during his military career. Not that he can’t work with a team, just that his skill set lends itself to independence.

Turning off the main lights and securing the deadbolts, Simon activates the alarm system and does a once over to make sure everything is in its place. For the next five days, 141 Ink will be closed to the public.

He’ll be with you. In Scotland.

Simon takes the stairs to his flat two at a time with Bravo on his heels. From his pocket, Simon withdraws his lighter and a cigarette, stepping out onto the sorry excuse of a balcony. The wood is starting to rot in places. Really, he should just tear it down and start fresh, but London has fucking rules about construction.

And Simon is too damn stubborn to deal with bureaucratic nonsense just to replace some wood.

In the dark, he ignites the end of the cigarette, the orange-red glow flaring before receding. He inhales deeply and savors the comforting burn in his lungs.

While Simon dislikes changing around his work schedules, this isn’t really about him. This is about you and what you need. Simon only managed to keep you with him for a few days. You’re too headstrong sometimes, especially when you care about something. While Simon admires that about you, it’s only going to drive you toward burnout.

Those few days were not enough. You were soft and present with him, but you need a proper break away from London and the life you’re building here. Simon escorted you home afterward and all he wanted was to draw you back to him, to keep you even for a few more seconds.

That is, you need a break from the temporary life you’re building here in London.

Simon has to keep telling himself that. You’re not a citizen. Eventually you’ll have to leave or attempt to extend your visa but that isn’t guaranteed. What then? Is Simon willing to let you go?

The answer comes immediately.

No.

He’d rather relive every second of physical therapy, all the fucking medical appointments, and his forced retirement then let you slip away again.

You’re his now. You’re his woman. There is nothing that will keep him from you from this point on.

Simon takes a long drag of his cigarette as the November air slips in to cool his skin beneath his leather jacket.

Johnny keeps badgering Simon about Christmas and if he plans on joining. He always does, but he wants to know if he can bring you along. This time when Simon called Johnny about his family’s cottage up in the Highlands, Johnny lent it to him without question.

But when Johnny asked about him coming to see the family for holiday, Simon shrugged it off. Johnny didn’t seem too worried but Simon also didn’t bring you up at all. Yet it doesn’t mean shit, and Simon just needs to get through these next few days before he even brings it up with Johnny.

Bringing you to the MacTavish farm to meet everyone makes this real.

Solid.

Like Redwood trees.

You will make a home in Simon’s branches. Relax beneath his canopy. Be protected under his shade.

Bravo whines, and Simon glances down at the dog, the domestic longing evaporating like the smoke from the end of his cigarette.

“Ready for a sleepover?” asks Simon, putting out his cigarette and heading back inside.

Bravo’s ears perk up and his tail starts to rotate like a helo’s blades. Simon snorts and reaches down to scratch between Bravo’s ears.

Simon loves Bravo but he is not taking the dog with him. He’s going to pick you up tonight and Simon is dropping Bravo off when he does. Originally, Simon planned on having Gaz watch him, but Amelia suggested that he leave Bravo with her.

Saves Simon a fucking trip.

Everything is coming together, and maybe—just maybe—the two of you can move this relationship into something stable. Because regardless of his obsession, Simon wants peace. He loves the tattoo parlor and his flat and Bravo. But it’s not enough.

Simon is not fulfilled. Not really.

He needs you.

As it stands, you’re not entirely his. Simon needs to claim everything. He might have your heart and your smile and your lips, but he is a possessive creature. Simon wants to ruin everyone else for you. That you will only ever beg for him, to desire him as much as he constantly craves you.

As Simon checks over the large duffle bag he packed for the tip, his mind drifts into the memories of the last few days.

That morning in the shower, Simon nearly lost his head. He knew what you wanted by the way you had arched your back and how your hand palmed him. He was ready to push you up against the shower wall and fuck the life out of you. But Simon fought off the urge even though it clawed at his ribcage.

He can still recall your lips against his skin, and the playful way you covered your eyes to not see his face. You’re always thinking of him. Not pushing. Allowing Simon to give pieces of himself to you when he’s ready.

Hiding all this from me? You’ve been holding out on me, Simon.

Simon stands in the middle of his bedroom grinning like a bloody idiot.

When it comes to you, he’s absolutely fucked.

Simon zips up the duffle bag before changing out of his work clothes. With it being November, it’ll be too fucking cold to take the bike. He’ll need to wait for a nicer day, but he also has no gear for you to wear. Just a helmet, and that isn’t enough to protect you.

He switches into joggers, trainers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a black sip-up hoodie with a fleece interior. If Simon is driving, he wants to be bloody comfortable.

Simon grabs the duffle and lifts it, hauling it over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Bravo.”

The German Shepard rolls up and onto his feet, trotting happily beside Simon. Descending the rear staircase, Simon exits into the alleyway behind the building. Attached to the back of the building is a small garage but it’s not automatic. It’s manual.

Simon unlocks it and twists the handle lifting the door up enough that it ascends on its own. Popping the trunk, Simon tosses the duffle in and Bravo jumps inside.

Simon is in the driver’s seat of his SUV and to Amelia’s in less than a minute.

It’s after dinner but that was the plan. He wants to avoid traffic, and driving late at night has always calmed him.

You answer the door, and when your gaze falls on Simon his heart drops into his stomach. From there it explodes outward, every limb in his body tingling with pleasure. You’re grinning, nearly glowing.

Your gaze runs up and down his body before settling on his face. “You’re not wearing the balaclava.”

Simon blinks, his hand starting to rise to feel the balaclava’s absence.

“You’re right. I’m not,” he agrees, forcing his hand back to his side. He forgot to put it on, which is odd since he’s always remembered in the past. “You packed?”

“I am,” you reply, lifting the bag in your hand. Before you can drop it, Simon reaches out and snags it.

Your features change, morphing into indignation as if you’re going to protest. Simon smirks and shakes his head.

“Go on, Bravo,” instructs Simon, nodding his head in the direction of the house.

Bravo greets you with a tail wag before disappearing inside. Moments later, Simon hears Amelia’s delighted yell.

“I’ll take good care of him, Simon!” she calls from somewhere in the house.

You start to turn to call back but Simon shoves his way in. “We’ll be back on Wednesday!” he replies, before filling the entire space with his bulky frame.

You’re not able to move around him, and instead step out onto the front stoop. Simon did that on purpose. You’re acting tough like his actions annoyed you, but he notices the soft way you submit to him. If you were truly upset, you’d say something, but you’re walking toward the SUV with a little skip in your step.

At the car, Simon adds your bag to the trunk but he’s not fast enough to open the passenger door for you. You’re already sitting inside by the time he comes around to the driver’s side.

When Simon opens the door and hops in, starting the car, the reality of the situation sets in.

This is it. This is fucking happening.

Simon glances at you and you greet him with a lovely smile. He could bottle the way you look at him up and drink it down like his favorite whiskey.

“We’re driving?” you ask, briefly glancing around the interior.

“We are,” answers Simon as he checks for oncoming cars, before pulling out from his parking spot.

“Why aren’t we flying?” You’re not asking because you’re confused, you’re asking because you’re probing. Simon never said where he planned on taking you for this trip.

Simon makes a turn. “I hate planes.”

“You hate planes?” you reply, amusement in your tone.

Briefly, Simon’s brain draws forth a memory of when he was handed the controls of a helo and they nearly lost Kyle from Simon’s erratic steering. Gaz has never allowed Simon to forget it.

“Why are you smiling?” you laugh, your eyebrows slightly raised in question.

“Better to stay on the ground,” says Simon, remembering how Price also lost is cigar during that and how bloody pissed off he was about it.

“And what about a train?”

Again, you’re inquiring instead of outright asking.

Simon shrugs. “Not in control.”

Your lips purse but you settle back into your seat, gaze turning toward the passenger door window.

Getting out of London is the hardest part. Everything is packed together, and sometimes traffic doesn’t cease even in the evening which is why Simon wanted to leave after dinner. Once the two of you are out of London, it’ll be much easier to drive up to Edinburgh without having to constantly stop.

Simon spends most of his time muttering obscenities under his breath as he navigates traffic. You don’t interrupt his concentration. Instead, you watch on, clearly amused by Simon’s attitude to everyone around him.

It isn’t until the car exits the bounds of the London metropolitan area that Simon finally takes a fucking breath. Reaching into the center console, Simon snags his lighter and a cigarette.

“Care if I smoke?”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

With the filter end between his teeth, Simon clicks open the lighter. The little flame pops up but Simon doesn’t light the cigarette. “No fight?”

You glance at him, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “Would you like an argument?”

Simon brings the flame to the end of the cigarette. Inhales. Clicks off the lighter and tosses it back into the console. The smoke disappears out the cracked car window.

“Maybe,” he replies, voice slightly husky.

You shift in the passenger seat, twisting to face him. “Simon.”

“Yes, love,” he purrs, enjoying the chastising sweetness in your tone.

“Smoking is harmful.”

“Is it?” He takes another drag of his cigarette.

You nod, leaning one forearm against the middle armrest. “Yes. What if you get lung cancer?”

“Who says that will happen?”

“Literally every doctor.”

Simon laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

Your mouth opens in feigned shocked. “Are you telling me how I should feel, Simon?”

He shifts slightly in his seat. This is fun. He likes this. “Not at all, love. But I think I know how to put that mouth to other uses.”

This time your mouth remains open, the shock genuine.

Simon keeps going. “Seems like you already know what to do.”

You promptly shut your mouth. Simon watches as the heat rushes to your face.

Sweet fucking victory.

He takes a final drag on the cigarette and rids himself of the extinguished stub. Returning that hand to the steering wheel, Simon removes the other one, resting it against his thigh. He slides that hand up and down before lightly tapping.

“Come here, sweetheart,” purrs Simon. “Show me what you do with that mouth.”

You immediately smack his arm and Simon bursts out laughing. You’re laughing too but he knows his words stirred something within you. You keep touching your cheek as if you’re feverish.

“You’re terrible, Simon Riley,” you say right before you reach for the water bottle in the cup holder.

He waits until you’re taking a drink. “You won’t think that when I have you on my cock.”

You splutter around the bottle and smack his arm again. Closing the lid, you return the bottle and clear your throat. “When are we supposed to arrive to this mystery place?”

You’re changing the subject again, likely probing for more information. It’s not like it’s some big secret. Simon just wanted it to be a surprise, but there really isn’t any reason to be allusive about it anymore.

Simon shrugs. “It’s about a seven-hour drive to where we’re headed.”

“Seven hours? Where the fuck are you taking me?” You appear genuinely concerned.

He knows why, and Simon quickly attempts to extinguish the rising anxiety. “Evie and Amelia will be fine without you for a few days.”

You sigh. “I know. I’m just—”

The worry lines are back and Simon hates that. You’re always so concerned for others. Always thinking of everyone but yourself.

Reaching out, Simon clasps your hand and squeezes. “We’re going to Scotland.”

“Really?” This time, he hears the pleasure in your voice, and Simon’s chest swells with pride.

“Edinburgh first for a day. Then we’re heading out into the Highlands. Johnny’s family has a small farm up there with a little cottage.”

“Johnny?”

Fuck. You don’t really know the guys. You briefly met them once when Simon nearly punched Adam in the face.

Simon swallows before he speaks. “He was at the pub with me when you were with…Adam.”

“I see,” you reply softly.

“They’ll be gone. Johnny’s family. And the cottage is on the edge of the property.”

Your thumb brushes over the back of Simon’s hand. “So, we’ll be alone?”

“We will,” answers Simon, every muscle in his body tensing.

You nod, still clutching his hand, as you lean further against your seat. “What kind of farm is it?”

Simon glances at you briefly before returning his attention to the road. “It’s not like what you’re used to in America. Johnny’s mother has a little greenhouse but they mostly raise animals.”

“Like what?”

“They have some pigs. Sheep.” Simon shrugs. “Fluffy coos.” He says “cow” the same way Johnny does.

A few Christmases ago when Gaz came, Simon and Kyle watched the fluffy beasts from a distance as Johnny tried to wrangle a few back toward one of the enclosures. They offered their assistance but Johnny was adamant he didn’t need their help. He was face down in the mud with bare ass up in the air after only a few minutes.

Your eyes go wide and you sit up a bit straighter. “Can I pet them?”

“With supervision,” says Simon knowing that while the animals are docile and gentle creatures, their horns can easily harm.

This appears acceptable because you snuggle into your seat.

Two hours in, and you’re asleep.

Simon smokes. Drives. Smokes again.

Occasionally, Simon glances in your direction just to make sure you’re still there. For some reason his brain keeps insisting that you’ll disappear if he looks away for too long. You’ll transform into smoke and drift out of the car just like the smoke he exhales from his lungs.

There are roughly three more hours left before arriving in Edinburgh. While most places don’t allow late check-ins, the little hotel Simon plans on taking you to for the night made an exception for him.

By the third hour, Simon is entirely focused on the road. You have not drifted into the air. You are solid and real and asleep in the passenger seat. A calmness settles over him. Everything is as it should be.

So, when Simon feels the weight of your hand against his thigh, he doesn’t think much of it. He drops one hand from the steering wheel intending to reach out to grasp your hand with his own. Yet you do no linger there. Your hand slides upward and Simon’s temporary calmness morphs into understanding.

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

“What are you up to, love?” says Simon softly, returning his hand to the steering wheel.

There is a schedule, and while your hand resting on the outside of his joggers over his dick is a temptation he doesn’t want to resist, the two of you can’t stray far.

“Do you want me to stop?” There is a raspy quality to your voice like you’ve just woken from sleep. Perhaps you have, and in that state of wakefulness, your brain decided that this is a good idea.

But there is also lust in your tone. It drips like thick honey.

Now, that? Simon cannot resist that.

“No,” he says, matching your tone as your hand slips beneath the elastic band of his joggers.

Flexing his hips, Simon adjusts in his seat to give you a better angle. When your fingers find him, it’s difficult for Simon to keep his eyes on the road. The tips of your nails gently scratch against his skin before your fingers wrap around him completely.

Your hand is warm, and that first stroke is maddening.

His control is right on a knife’s edge. If Simon glances away from the road, he’ll fucking crash this car. In his peripheral, Simon sees you moving, and even that is hard to withstand. Simon knows that you’re leaning on the center armrest and that you’re looking at him.

Simon knows you are.

Your stare is a brand on his skin.

“This,” you murmur, gently squeezing him. “Is perfect.”

Fuck. He is fucking done for.

The middle of his chest burns as if he is a tree and his core is on fire. The need to be close to you is a lightning strike.

But Simon is fucking driving, and it’s not like he can just pull you into his lap.

“Careful, love,” growls Simon as you start a steady pace. “Might pull over and make you regret this.”

Because that is what Simon wants to do. Find an exit and a quiet parking lot or silent clump of trees.

“Is that a promise?” you breathe as the pad of your thumb brushes over the slit.

Oh, fuck you’re sweet.

So, this is where you’ve been hiding all along. You’ve always had a bit of fire, but this is what he remembers. In Riot Room, you weren’t shy at all. Your words and actions were bold. You opened like a flower in his hands. Bloomed and melted and reformed.

This is the woman who captured all his attention three years ago.

You haven’t changed at all.

“A fucking guarantee,” growls Simon in answer.

You make a little sound in your throat that goes straight to his dick. He is throbbing in your palm, and that only makes Simon’s control thin further. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. The knuckles of his turn white. Even the tattoos on his fingers pale.

You don’t let up. You just bring Simon closer to the edge. He’s not going to last. Not like this, but he sure as hell isn’t going to finish inside his joggers or on the fucking seat like some teenage boy getting his first handy.

No.

Fucking no.

If you’re going to be bold then you’ll take everything that comes with it.

With one hand on the steering wheel, Simon reaches out and grabs the back of your neck. The whimper you make, and the slight squeeze of your hand around his cock nearly causes him to bust right then and there.

“Use that gorgeous mouth and suck me off,” he growls, you tugging your head closer.

Simon isn’t fucking asking. It’s a demand.

Your answer is a playful smile and teasing tone. “You don’t tell me what to do, Simon.”

Simon shakes his head. “Oh, sweetheart, you love it when I tell you what do it.” He briefly glances in your direction before returning his gaze to the road. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

By your sharp inhale, Simon knows you’re recalling the night when he made you count every orgasm.

“Now,” he says, his exhale stuttering slightly as it releases from him. “Be good. And swallow.”

You reach for him, and Simon lifts his hips a bit. It’s just enough for you to shove the band of his joggers down.

Even then, with his cock out, Simon does not glance away from the road.

Not when you lean forward completely.

Not when his hand fists your hair to keep you in place.

Not even when your mouth suctions around him and you throat him to the fucking root.

But his nostrils flare, and the muscles in his neck and jaw are fucking tight with tension. Every instinct is telling him to pull over, to fuck your luscious mouth, and then drag you into his lap so he can watch you ride his fingers.

That would be bloody perfect. That would be ideal.

Instead, he breathes in and out of his nose, attempting to stifle every groan as your head bobs. One of your hands cups him gently and Simon’s grip in your hair tightens.

“I’m—fuck,” groans Simon.

He feels the resistance of your throat from his instruction and hears the wet sound it makes when his length is entirely too much. You pull back a bit before trying again, and that is fucking it.

Your tongue lightly grazes against the underside of the head, and Simon’s lower half tenses, hips thrusting up slightly to meet you.

And you, like the good girl you are, take every drop.

Thank fuck he turned on the cruise control.

Simon’s fingers slowly unlace from your strands of hair. He’s careful not to tug, and then it’s just a gentle caress as you lift your head.

For a moment—a brief few seconds—Simon is fixated on your puffy, swollen lips. He wants to kiss those lips. To taste himself along with you.

“Eyes on the road, Simon.”

He quickly averts his gaze but still reaches out with his thumb to wipe away the bit of his cum that still slings to the corner of your mouth. Your grab his wrist and bring that thumb to your mouth.

Lips suctioning around it, you suck off that last little drop. When you release his thumb, Simon briefly presses it against your bottom lip.

Simon makes it only a kilometer before he pulls over, pushes his seat back, drags you into his lap, shoves your pants down to your ankles, and has you fucking yourself on his fingers. The hand not between your legs presses against your upper right thigh. His tattooed fingers are slightly curled inward to cling there.

He doesn’t want you moving.

“Come on, love. Grind down on me.”

There is sweat on your brow and it’s beautiful. Your mouth is open, head tilted backward in bliss to expose your throat. Your eyes are heavy-lidded, clearly lost in a lust-laced haze.

With one hand on Simon’s chest and the other on his thigh, you’re a goddess above him. Simon watches his index and middle finger appear and disappear as you use them for your pleasure, rolling your hips in fluid rhythm.

Sure, this is about you, but this is doing plenty for him. He’s fucking hard again just watching your pussy squeeze and stretch in time with your movements. Simon sits up a bit and gently bites your left breast through your shirt.

You whimper and grind down on him like he asks. It’s so sweet the way you come undone. The way your pussy tightens around his fingers. The way you say his name. It’s like you’re asking for more and yet chastising him.

And this is just his fingers inside you.

Soon, you’ll take his cock, and Simon cannot fucking wait to hear the sounds you’ll make then.

Tenderly, Simon eases his fingers from your pussy. They’re glossy. Shiny. And Simon brings them to his mouth to clean just as your head dips forward. Your gaze lands on his face the moment his fingers enter his mouth. Your eyes widen slightly, and Simon takes his time.

He wants you to see.

He wants you to know.

The little detour nearly adds an hour but Simon could give a fuck.

Simon sits smugly while you doze off in the passenger seat. He would have had you continue if he weren’t pressed for time. If Simon had another hour, he would have told you to continue until your legs shook. Even then, he’d simply do the work himself until your voice went hoarse.

By the time Edinburgh is in Simon’s sights, it’s late.

You still haven’t stirred. You’re curled up in the passenger seat and Simon has no idea how you’re comfortable.

When he pulls up to the hotel he booked, Simon decides not to wake you. Finding a parking spot in the little lot to the side of the building, Simon leaves you alone in the car. He’ll check in at the front desk, grab the room key, and then come back for you.

You deserve some sleep.

“Evening, mate,” says Simon to the clerk behind the desk.

It’s an older gentleman whose entire appearance reminds Simon of Ben.

“Evening. You’re,” he checks his little computer, “Mr. Riley?”

“That’s me,” nods Simon.

“Need to see some identification and I’ll square you away.”

Simon hands it over, and then it’s back in his wallet along with a set of keycards. The entire interaction takes less than three minutes.

As Simon exits the building and turns right to head into the little lot, he stops at the first row of cars.

At first, he’s not sure what the fuck he’s looking at.

The small lot is full and there was only one parking spot when Simon pulled up. He took it, not thinking much since the lot itself is well-lit.

But that isn’t the case now.

Several of the lights are out and is that—

No. It fucking can’t be.

Anyone else might mistake the odd lump as a trick of the shadows or even the back of another vehicle. But Simon isn’t mistaken. That is not just shadows playing games or a bad parking job.

That is a person. A man. Leaning against Simon’s SUV.

And he knows that stance, that casual lean that seems aloof but isn’t.

He knows who it belongs to.

Simon bolts, striding toward the SUV with purpose in every step. He loses sight of the back end of the SUV for the briefest second as he crosses over, another large vehicle in the way before it comes back into view.

But there is no one there.

All that training clicks back in like it never left.

Simon approaches slowly, walking around his car once to make sure. He’s completely on alert, his head on a swivel as he scans the area.

There is only you sleeping in the passenger seat.

There is no one else in the lot but Simon fucking checks anyway. He walks both lengths of the lot. Checks every car and corner. He even goes out to the street and back, canvasing further than he likely needs to but doing it anyway.

But he was so sure there was someone there.

He’s back, Simon.

No. What Simon saw was a fucking illusion. An old memory surfacing. That fucker—that waste of human—is in America. He isn’t here.

Unlocking the trunk, Simon removes both bags, tossing one over either shoulder. Then he’s at your door opening it, reaching out to gently shake you awake.

“We’re here.”

You groan softly and grab his hand. Simon keeps you closely tucked against him all the way to the room because it’s the only thing that keeps his hands from shaking.

Once you’re both inside the hotel room, Simon helps you out of your clothes.

“Want to shower?” he asks and you shake your head, rubbing at your eyes.

Simon offers you one of his shirts and you put it on. It’s all he can do for you before you plop onto the bed. You wiggle a bit and then finally dive under the covers, completely disappearing.

Once you’re settled, Simon checks the door and the two windows. Everything is locked and secure. There is no reason for him to panic like this.

Simon rubs at his face before sighing softly and stripping down to his boxer briefs. Sleep is what he needs. It’s what you both need.

And it is Simon who wakes first, the faintest bit of stress still lingering at his temples. But Simon isn’t one for sleeping in or even staying in bed once he’s awoken. You’re still snoozing, just a tangle of hair above the covers and nothing else.

Simon orders breakfast, and when you do wake up, it arrives.

“This all for us?” you yawn, stretching your arms over your head.

“We’re exploring today,” replies Simon, bring the espresso cup to his lips. While tea is his usual beverage of choice, he needs some fucking caffeine.

You plop down onto your side and then slowly roll over until you bump into him. Simon arches an eyebrow as you sit up. Instead of reaching for the food, you reach for him, fingers tangling in his hair as you tug him down to meet you.

Your lips find his and the heat of that kiss goes straight to his toes.

“You need to fucking brush your teeth.”

“Simon, I fucking swear—”

“Kiss your mother with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes, pulling away, but Simon is moving with you, pressing you into the bed, slotting himself between your legs.

“Let’s stay here,” you murmur after a few more kisses.

“While I’d love to stay right here,” says Simon, emphasizing his words by pressing himself against your sex. “We have things to do today.”

“Do we?”

“Don’t want to explore the city with me?” counters Simon, wrapping you up in his arms only to haul you back up to a seated position.

“You know I do, Simon,” you reply softly, fingers brushing lightly against the line of his jaw. “That’s not even a question.”

Simon rubs your back before disentangling himself. “Then eat,” he says, pointing to the feast he ordered because he panicked and decided on one of everything.

He pushes off the bed, his bad knee aching slightly. Simon stretches into it, covering up the limp before he straightens up. You don’t notice, too busy buttering up some toast with lots of jam.

Five days.

He has five days with you.

Simon is about to savor every second.

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[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Eddie Munson x Reader

You’ve asked Eddie to try something new tonight: you want him to get mean. As it turns out, Eddie takes to his new role surprisingly well. Includes degradation kink, use of words ‘bitch,’ and ‘puppy,’ directed toward Reader.

Eddie slammed the front door shut, making you jump. “(Y/N)?” Eddie called, his voice tinted with a white hot rage. “Where the hell are you?”

It was all a game, but the tone of his voice still sent a chill down your spine. And that was the point. You’d told Eddie how you wanted him to rough you up a little tonight (your exact words had been “get mean, Eddie…”) and what better way to start than by pretending to come home royally pissed off?

You left the kitchen and walked to the living room where Eddie had entered. When you saw him, the change in his features stole your breath for a few seconds. Eddie’s entire countenance was darker, his eyes glaring at you with an intensity that both excited and frightened you. Who was this? He looked like your Eddie, but…sinister. Completely unlike his true character. His commitment to the role you’d asked him to play was impressive, in the sexiest way possible…

He turned his key in the lock, staring you down while he did so. “Yeah,” Eddie snapped at you. “That’s right. You’re not going anywhere…”

It was hard not to giggle, because seeing this kind of behavior from Eddie was so…odd. It was similar to the experience of watching a horror movie; you’re scared, but it’s a fun kind of scared, because you know that none of it’s real; throughout the entire experience, your safety is guaranteed.

Your poorly-suppressed grin wasn’t missed by Eddie. He took a deliberate step closer, his eyes narrowing coldly. “Somethin’ funny?” he practically growled.

You pulled your lips in, trying to hide your excitement. “Mmm-mmm,” you mumbled, shaking your head ‘no.’ But Eddie was hardly convinced.

He gently grabbed a handful of your hair, clutching it at the back of your neck. You gasped, the silly grin evaporating from your lips. “Since you wanna act like a bitch-.” Eddie tugged you closer. “-Why don’t you get on the ground where a bitch belongs?”

Your pulse was racing, heat warming your cheeks. Eddie was fucking good at this. You could feel your body responding to him, the soft pressure between your legs beginning to throb.

You went to your knees at Eddie’s feet, his hand at the top of your head, holding you in place. He unzipped his pants, freeing his stiff, leaking cock. Your mouth watered with the need to taste him, to trace the prominent veins lining his cock with your tongue. It was reflexive, the way you automatically wrapped your lips around Eddie’s tip.

But he was not pleased. Eddie yanked your head backwards, breaking the seal of your mouth on his cock with a loud pop.

“Is that how a good little bitch behaves?” Eddie scolded, his tone condescending. He held your head still and laid his dick across your face. Eddie’s balls rested under your chin, his shaft covering your face to your forehead, where his tip leaked precum into your hair.

“Hold still,” he ordered. “Like a good little puppy…You want your treat? You’ll have to earn it.” Eddie made you sit patiently at his feet, poised with his cock on your face, for a full thirty seconds. He was literally treating you like his bitch, a dog to be trained.

“Good girl,” Eddie finally said, and took hold of his cock by the base, rubbing his tip along your lips. “You’ve earned a taste. Now, if you want all of it-.” Eddie’s cock pulsed in his fist. “I’m gonna need to hear you bark…”

“And what if I refuse?” you asked, feeling daring. Eddie almost broke character as a grin formed on his lips. But he shook it away immediately, reverting back to ‘mean Eddie.’

“Then you’ll have to be punished,” he replied. Eddie put his cock away, pressing it against his stomach and zipping it behind his pants. You pouted, longing to taste Eddie’s cock again. He lifted you off your knees and brought you to the couch, where he sat, and pointed to the floor in front to him. “Down,” Eddie commanded.

You went to your knees, hoping Eddie would take his cock back out. He did, but not with the intention of letting you suck it. Eddie had other ideas.

He wrapped a hand around his shaft and lazily stroked himself. Eddie positioned one of his feet between your knees, his black leather boots clunking against the floor. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he explained. “You’re going to watch me jerk off, and make yourself come on my boot…”

You obediently pressed your pussy against Eddie’s boot, shivering slightly at the cold feeling of the leather. “That’s a good girl,” Eddie praised. You squeezed your thighs around his foot. “Do a good job humping my boot, ‘n maybe I’ll let you hump my cock next…”

Eddie’s arrogance had you dripping. You began to roll your hips forward and back, rubbing your cunt against Eddie’s boot while he stroked himself, just as he’d instructed. The softness of the leather felt so good as you smeared your cunt over it. Eddie’s breath was husky as he watched you, his eyes alternating between the space where your cunt met his boot, and the view of your breasts bouncing between his knees as you humped him.

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie panted, the look in his eyes gorgeously vulnerable. “That’s so fucking hot; Christ-we should have tried this a long time ago…”

With Eddie in the weakened state he was currently in, you sensed he might be willing to let you taste his cock again. Before you could ask, Eddie was already grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding your mouth over him. He used both his hands on top of your head to push you down, till you were swallowing his cock as far as you could take him.

The sound of your soft gurgles and grunts pushed Eddie over the limit. His fingers tightened inside your hair, a feral groan rumbling from his chest as he spilled his release against the back of your throat.

Finally tasting Eddie’s cum, after he’d made you wait so long for it, was like receiving a reward. You gulped Eddie’s semen and pressed your cunt more firmly into his boot, increasing the pace of your humping him. You felt the ache between your thighs grow shaper, reaching a peak, till you were coming on Eddie’s boot. Your slippery release gushed over the leather and ran down the sides of his boot, puddling on the floor between Eddie’s feet.

He pulled you onto the couch, holding you in his lap while both your breathing gradually returned to normal. Your gentle, sweet Eddie was back; and while you’d loved seeing him pretend to be someone else for awhile, you loved the real Eddie most of all…♥️

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[bluecollarmcandtf]

Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

#hypno story #mind control #gay mind control #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 12

Pure Indulgence 3

Summary: You and Cooper have stayed a couple of weeks in Goodneighbor, and as much as John wants the two of you to stay, he knows that he could never ask either of you to. It's a shame the mayor has always had a problem with falling hard and fast.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader / John Hancock x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut and drug use. It's more fluffy than anything, I think. John is sad 😔

Masterlist

You wake to the sound of hushed, husky voices. Your head throbs from the alcohol the night before, but it's manageable enough for you to crack your eyes open. The first thing you see is a scared chest, and you peek up to see that you're cuddled against John. The mayor has you tucked close, a cigarette between two fingers on his free hand, and black eyes looking at the other ghoul that sits on the edge of the bed.

"Commonwealth is a dangerous place. We've got shit you won't ever believe," John rasps over you, and you hear the familiar timber of Cooper’s voice respond seconds later.

"Ain't nothin' we can't handle. Besides. It's not like we'll be stayin' long."

You hear the change in John's heartbeat. It speeds up, and the grip he has around your shoulders tightens for a split second before relaxing again. You smell the acidic smoke that Hancock blows out his ruined nose and hear the odd tilt of his voice when he speaks up.

"Yeah, I know, Coop," John exhales heavily with another plum of smoke, "Still plan on leaving today?"

You watch Cooper shrug his shoulders and take in the expance of his scared back. There are bullet and knife woulds everywhere. You've mapped out most of them with your hands and tongue and lips. So has John.

You don't like the thought of leaving the ghoul behind, but exploration calls your name, and you know that it'd be unfair to drag the mayor away from his home. You didn't think it was possible for you to care for another like you did Cooper, but here you were.

"If she wants to. I'm just the muscle. She's the girl with the plans," Cooper rumbles, and the bed dips when he shifts to face John on the bed. He holds a canister of jet and exchanges the chem for the cigarette that the other ghoul holds. He casts his eyes down and smirks when he notices that you're awake.

"Speak of the devil," He quips and reaches out to pat your sheet covered ass, "How long've you been up?"

John shifts below you, and you gift the mayor a small smile. You shrug in answer and turn to place a chaste kiss against Hancock's chest.

"Long enough," you murmur, and John tenses under you. It's obvious that you've been listening in on their conversation. You don't like making the ghoul feel bad, but lingering any longer, and it would be all the worse.

"How'd you sleep, Sunshine?" Hancock asks, and his free hand smooths over your back to gently stroke your hair, pulling it away and out of your face. It's a forced change in subject, but you don't mind.

"Considering I'm the meat in a ghoul sandwich - pretty good," you tease with a snicker. Hancock wheezes a laugh, and Cooper rolls his eyes at you, though you still catch a fond look sent your way.

John watches the smoothskin and the other ghoul. He doesn't want them to leave. He likes having your easy amusement around and Cooper’s dry, western humor. The two of you were like taking one of his favorite grape mentats every time you rolled into Goodneighbor, and it hurt to know that you planned on leaving the Commonwealth.

The two of you belonged in his town, and Hancock could only hope that neither of you would forget about him. It sounded sad and pathetic even to his own ears, but John had always had a problem with loving a little too easily.

He licks his dry lips and forces a smile, "Let's talk serious for a second, yeah?" Usually, John wasn't down for things like this, but you? You made him feel different. He suspected it was the same thing about you that made Cooper stay around.

"You'll be careful out there. The Institute isn't just some fairy tale like you hear people whisper about in the streets. Not to mention those tin cans that still patrol around here-."

The mayor of Goodneighbor shuts up with a disgruntled huff and glares at Cooper, who had grabbed his leg and dragged him down to lay on the bed. The other ghoul glares right back, lips mulled into a mean smirk. You, having been dislodged in the sudden motion, find a comfortable seat on John's lap and grin down at him.

"Told you earlier not to be thinkin' bout that kinda stuff, John, " Cooper groused from where he lounged behind you.

"Yeah, just cause we're leaving doesn't mean we're gonna be gone forever," you say and reach out, placing your palms on his sunken cheeks and smiling down at him, "You're a part of us now, even if we're not here."

John can't help but smile back and turn his face to press a kiss to your wrist. You were right, of course, but the ghoul would still miss the two of you.

"Then how about you give me something to remember you by, Sunshine?" Hancock says, and his hands come up to land on your hips, his own rocking up and against your exposed sex. His cock drags through your folds, and the ghoul groans at the heat you put off. His fingers dig into your sides hard enough that dark marks would bloom by the evening.

Cooper watches from behind you, a satisfied smirk crossing his lips when he sees John's tip catch your opening and you slide home with a hiss. Despite his initial feelings, it's always a pleasure to watch you and the other ghoul fuck. John liked things slow and steady, something that the bounty hunter didn't have the patience for. It wasn't hard to see that the mayor had fallen quickly. Cooper couldn't blame him.

He makes himself comfortable, eyes latched to where John pistons in and out of his smoothskin, your cunt clenching around the other man's length as you dig your nails into the flesh of Hancock's shoulders. The two of you are loud and shameless, and Cooper knows that if he misses anything about the Commonwealth, it would be this.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #x reader #the ghoul x reader #dear hears and gentle people #john hancock x reader #hancock x reader #john hancock

[beembeem]

Hey, Love your work! Do you think you could write aizawa x student reader that was abandoned? (platonic, of course)

Have a nice day!

Aww, thank you, Anon! I'd be happy to write aizawa content he's one of my favorites! (^_^) this request hits a little close to home (a bit too close haha) but I had a lot of fun writing this! Let me know what you want me to write next!

Y/n sat on the streets curb, clutching her go bag tightly to her body, the rain pelting her hunched figure and drowning out her silent sobs. Y/n knew her parents were tired of her, all the threats they threw at her, their constant bickering, the number of times her parents told her they hated them to her face. Everything boiled up, and in a fit of rage, y/ns parents threw her out of the house. Leaving her where she is now. A homeless teenager bawling her eyes out in the rain while sitting on a curb in the city of mustafu.

Y/n jumped when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she was so lost in her scrambled thoughts that she hadn't noticed the blue umbrella shielding her from the rain. Y/n looked up and then over at her homeroom teacher squatting beside her holding the umbrella over her. "Y/n? What are you doing out here?" He asked, noting your tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He questioned frantically scanning your body, without giving you time to answer he stood and pulled you up with him "I'll walk you to your house."he said before handing you his umbrella "m-my parents don't want me there" y/n said, already" choking on her words and fighting the tears that threatened to spill."your parents kicked you out?" Aizawa asked and y/n nodded, fiddling with her pajama shirt, her parents didn't allow you the luxury of getting real clothes on.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, "alright, come on, I'll take you to my house." He said before grabbing your empty hand and leading you along."Despite the fact that having you at my house is wildly inappropriate, it's either that or you catching your death in this rain. He stated that matter of factly, "plus nemuri would beat my ass if she knew I left you out here." he walked with you following closely behind him before long. You ended up standing outside of his apartment door, your brain still processing the events, and short-circuiting y/n could barely remember the walk. Mr. Aizawa twisted the key to the door, opened it, and ushered you inside. You immediately took off your soaking wet slippers and stood awkwardly by the front door while Aizawa put his coat and umbrella in a nearby closet. "Alright, kid, I'll run you a hot shower, then I'll call nedzu and let him know what's going on." He said, "a-alright. " You filled with the fabric of your wet shirt again, starting to lose yourself to your mind when you were pulled back by two snaps."Did you hear me? Bathroom is the first door on the left, " he said while pointing down the hall."Oh! Sorry, " you apologized before quickly running off to the bathroom and savoring a hot shower.

After drying yourself off and getting dressed in the clothes, Mr. Aizawa gave you and you silently, walked to his kitchen where you found him slumped at the table. You awkwardly stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "Uhm, thank you for the clothes, Mr Aizawa!" You thanked him, and his tired moved from his phone to you."No problem, they're just things nemuri left here." He stated before going back to his phone."nedzu said he reported your parents for child abandonment." He said, motioning you to sit down in the chair across from him before he stood up "I made some cocoa, I made you some" he walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed two mugs full of hot chocolate then returned to the table and set a cup down in front of you. "Thank you!" You said before taking a sip. "So," he stared at you. "What happened?" He asked bluntly. You froze for a few seconds before breaking down in tears .t-they just ditched me, I loved them, and they just threw me our like I meant nothing!" You cried."I - I don't have anywhere else to go! They were all I had and now I won't be able to go to UA because I can't afford my stupid tuition, and-and" it felt like you were choking, you couldn't let anything out except for tears and sobs. Aizawa moved to comfort you, pulling you into a hug and patting your head. He hushed you before saying, "we'll figure it out." You grabbed the back of his shirt and cried even harder.

There'd be hell for your parents to pay.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x student reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa shōta #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #nemuri kayama #platonic relationships #platonic reader x aizawa shouta #beginner writer #requests open

[sportswriters]

dating a rival - j. swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x reader | suggestive, a bit smutty | established relationship | wc: 729 | warnings: swearing, dirty talking, sub!jeremy

welcome post!

dating a rival wasn’t easy. when you had to move from north carolina to boston for a job opportunity, being present as a carolina hurricanes fan became impossible. you cheered from the comfort of your home, missing the energy that only raleigh could build at the pnc arena. game day. you were split between your home team and your boyfriend’s performance. the hardest thing to deal was that jeremy couldn’t help being a fucking great goalie. the bruins weren't doing that well, but jeremy blocked every single shot from the opponent. frustrated groans left your mouth the whole game. no water, no pacing around, no hair grabbing were enough to calm you down.

“fuck. jer, why do you have to be so good?” you muttered, answering yourself seconds after, “yeah, that’s what caught my attention in the first place. fuck.”

he texted you as soon as he finished his interview, so you called him.

“hi, baby! congrats on the win, i’m so proud of you for dealing with the canes all by yourself!”

he laughed, knowing how pissed off you probably were for the loss.

“thank you, love. how are you feeling? don’t pretend to be only happy for me.”

“it was a great game, i’m proud of my other goalie too, okay?” you sighed. “you should come over, i’m gonna get us some food. it’s gonna be delivery, though. i have no brain cells left to cook.”

“no plans on poisoning my food?” he joked.

“i have some plans for you, but none of them are deadly.” you bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. lowering your voice, almost as a whisper, you said:  “come over.”

jeremy froze on the other side of the line.

“okay. be there soon.”

after dinner, you talked about the game from two different perspectives. it was chill, a moment to catch up as a couple, some laughs and all of that. but deep inside jeremy couldn’t stop thinking about the real reason you’d invited him over. couldn’t stop thinking of having you all over him tonight after this win.

“i can see your thoughts working, jer. do you want to say something else?”

“i was wondering if you, hum, if you had something other than dinner in mind.”

you tilted your head, faking a confusion jeremy didn’t notice because of how nervous he was.

“well, in fact, i was thinking of congratulating you. but i didn’t want to jump right into it.”

jeremy nodded.

“do you want that right now?”

he was trying to put himself together, finding it hard to do such a thing when your eagle eyes were watching him like that.

“tell me what you had in mind.”

you got up from your cuddling position to sit on his lap. with a soft caress on his bearded cheek, you said: “i’m really proud of you. i’m proud of how fucking great you were out there.” you gave him a peck, his eyes didn’t lose focus once. “so, this is how it’s going to be… i’m going to give you everything you deserve, you’ll decide what it is. i’ll give you everything you want, jer, because you worked for it.”

you adjusted yourself on his lap, getting a helpless moan from him. he was gone already.

“i need you to tell me what you want, baby, i need your words.” your voice turned into a whisper as you got close to his ear, leaving soft kisses on the side of his neck. “want me to start by sucking your cock? let you go all the way down my throat? or do you want me to slide over it right now? i could let you come inside, you know? i think it’s a proper special occasion.”

you could feel him hardening. all the talking with soft kisses were leaving his mind blurred.

“jer, i need your words. this time it should be all about you, then in my turn i would get what i deserve. don’t you think that’s fair enough?” you grabbed his chin, facing his fucked up expression.

you waited for his response, noticing his every move. it was fun to have him like this once in a while, you were going to enjoy every step of the long way.

“please, just… just kiss me and we’ll go from there, okay?” he gulped. “just fucking kiss me right now.”

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman imagines #jeremy swayman scenarios #jeremy swayman smut #nhl imagines #nhl scenarios #nhl drabbles #nhl blurbs #boston bruins imagines #jeremy swayman fluff #sportswriters ❤

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My Heart speaks for you (Part 3)

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, a bit of flirting?, slight hints of anxiety, nightmare but with happy ending

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Music:

Let it all out on me - Houses on the Hill

Codex - Joel Sunny

Snowfall - Øneheart (8D Audio)

Part 1 ⎮Part 2⎮Part 3⎮

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Golden rays of sunshine fell on my face, leaves casting shadows onto my features. The forest around me smelled of wet moss and fresh rain, and the bittersweet scent of resin and delicate heather wafted through the air from afar, while the birds above sang their melodies merrily. 

I stood beside a birch tree, just as Eris had described, enjoying the last beams of sunlight and waited for him. The forest around me was painted in every autumnal shade imaginable, making it seem like a whole different world, the leaves competing to see who had the richest colours. It was breathtaking.

I had seen autumn in the Night Court, but it would never compare to the view surrounding me.

I spun around, my feet dancing across the spongy moss. Captivated by the glory of it all, I didn´t notice the light footsteps coming from behind. Someone chuckled, making me turn around to see the Autumn Court heir leaning against the bark of a tree. An amused smile played across his lips as he watched me. Of course, he looked as stunning as ever in his crimson tunic and fiery hair. 

A blush spread across my cheeks and my body tensed under his gaze. Suddenly the air felt too hot. Too dry. A certain heat radiating off him. Just breathe. No need to be nervous.

„Welcome to the Autumn Court, y/n! I´m delighted you accepted my invitation.“ He spoke as he walked towards me, extending his hand. Uncertain, I placed my hand in his. Gods, it was so small compared to his. His lips brushed my knuckles as he kissed them in a deep bow, the pink blush on my cheeks increasing. 

He straightened and looked at me, another smile creeping over his lips as he noticed my cheeks. 

Completely oblivious of how to react to his actions, I just stared at him like some love-drunk maiden. 

„Come on then, I´ll show you my home.“ He waved and began to move deeper into the forest. I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed, my hands in my pockets.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

We strolled through the woods for about five minutes when I remembered what was hidden in one of my pockets. Pulling it out, I showed Eris a small notebook, encouraging him to open it when he gave me a puzzled look. His fingers grazed mine as he grasped the book, sending a shiver over my skin. 

„So we can talk, even without words.“ and „Why did you invite me here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after what happened at the council meeting?“ - was written on the first page. He looked at me for a few seconds, hurt and confusion flashing in his eyes, before he answered. „I invited you because I want to get to know you better, otherwise I wouldn´t have written you this letter.“ Shame crawled into my gut. Of course. „And not only because you´re my mate, but back on Starfall you were the first person in a long time to listen to me without judgement.“ His answer surprised me, as I hadn´t expected him to be so honest and a tickling sensation settled in my stomach when he called me his mate. „So let me ask you, what is your life like? What should I know about you?“ he asked, stopping and staring directly at me with a challenging glint in his amber eyes, lowering his body to tower over me. His hands were crossed politely behind his back.

I pulled a pen from my pocket and quickly jotted down my answer. „You can ask me anything you like. I´ve got nothing to hide, fox.“ 

Eris laughed at the nickname and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I´ve ever heard. It was a deep and full laugh, smooth as silk and honey and with a touch of incredulity and irony, it melted right into my soul. „Careful, little dove. Foxes have sharp teeth and you certainly don´t want to meet mine.“ His intense gaze should´ve made me nervous, but instead it only spurred me on. In his presence, I didn´t have to play the shy girl or the cursed princess. I felt I could be myself. 

„Do you think you can intimidate me that easily, Eris Vanserra? So go ahead, ask me your questions.“ When I showed him what I had written down, he looked back at me with surprise in his features and something else I couldn´t quite put my finger to, so I put on my most defiant expression, raised one eyebrow and dared not look away. 

But a cheeky grin crept up my lips, causing me to break the stare and hide my smile, but Eris grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him, his chest almost touching mine. He was so tall, I had to lean back to look up at him. 

„Do that again.“ His breath swept over my face as I blinked at him, dumbfounded. „Smile again.“ So I did and gave him a coy smile. „You have a lovely smile, little dove.“ His other hand came up to caress my cheek, making me blush again. It felt rough and soft at the same time, and a lump formed in the back of my throat as I felt a heat building in my stomach. The tips of my pointed ears flushed. Something about that nickname made me feel... safe. The Eris everyone had told me about wasn´t the one standing in front of me, that´s for sure. 

I tried my best not to close my eyes and lean into his touch, not wanting this moment to end. 

When the silence turned to embarrassment, he cleared his throat and let go of my shoulder. „I can ask you anything I want?“ he asked, earning a look of annoyance from me in return, and chuckled. „Okay, fine. I´ll leave a couple questions behind. But hurry now, I want to show you something.“ He urged me forward, putting his hands behind my back. „Come on now. Otherwise we´ll miss it.“ I couldn´t hide another grin at his behaviour.  

We continued wandering through the woods, and he asked me any question that came to his mind. What do I like eating most? What do I do in my spare time, and what are my favourite flowers? What sights should he visit in Velaris? He was genuinely interested in me and my life, and I happily wrote down my answers to every single question. I `told´ him about my life in Velaris and what it was like to grow up in the Night Court.

At some point during our `conversation´, his questions became even more philosophical. Why are we born into this world? What do I think our purpose is, and do we even have one? I could feel myself relaxing more and more with each question he asked. With every twist and turn around the trees. With every minute the sun set deeper, until the last sunrays fell weakly through the treetops. 

Whether it was the fact that I was his mate that drew me to him, I didn´t care. I was beginning to like him. For himself. The self he probably didn´t show very often, if ever, in front of others. I liked him not because of this bond between us, but because he treated me kindly. Because he made me feel like I could be myself around him, and that meant a lot to me. Even though he would never know that.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

It must have been an hour later when Eris ignited a flame in the palm of his hand to provide us with some light. It had gone pitch black now that the sun had finally bid us farewell, only for her sister to shine as brightly as ever on the sky canopy.

My fingertips tingled and a blissful warmth built up in my chest as the heat of the flame gently stroked my skin. 

„Don´t worry, we´ll be right there.“ He said, noticing my worried look. I scribbled something on a page and showed it to him. 

„Yes, there are. But don´t be afraid little dove, the terrors of the night won´t find or harm us.“ I nodded slowly and closed the journal, putting it back in my pocket.

Two minutes later, Eris suddenly came to a halt and I bumped into his side. We were standing at the edge of a forest glade. The lush grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and the faint chirping of crickets filled the air. 

„This is what I wanted to show you, y/n.“ I looked up at him, utterly confused. Even more so when he just smiled at me, the flame in his hand died and Eris started to run out into the field. 

I didn´t understand what was going on at first, but what happened then absolutely stole my breath. 

Everywhere, fireflies ascended from the grasses into the night sky like lost stars. They danced and swirled around each other, bathing the clearing in a soft green, yellowish light. The crickets acted as a perfect orchestra, playing a sensual waltz as the fireflies soared higher and higher with each note. My mouth fell open and tears formed in my eyes. It was breathtaking. Amazing. Glorious. Without realising it, laughter broke out. But not Eris´s. No, it was mine. I was laughing! Totally mesmerised by the phenomenon before my eyes. A natural spectacle of the greatest beauty. A circus of floating lights. The magnificence of it all poured into my soul, warming me from the inside out as I shivered in anticipation. 

Eris turned when he heard my laughter, not even surprised that I actually made a sound, and waved me over. „Come here!“ He called, laughing as well. I walked slowly towards him, trying not to scare the fireflies away. The grass brushed my trousers and caressed my hands as I glided through it. Every now and then a single firefly landed on my shoulder to rest.

When I stopped in front of Eris, he looked down at me with a mischievous grin on his delicate lips. We stood so close I could hear his heartbeat and feel his hot breath tickling the tip of my nose. As we stared at each other in rapt, tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by... well, by everything. His hands cupped my face, brushing away the tears in comforting circles. „I assume you like it?“ He chuckled and I nodded, looking down. More tears streamed down my cheeks as another laugh escaped my throat. If I had to describe this moment, I´d say nothing but pure joy enveloped my body. „You should laugh more often, little dove. It suits you.“ His soothing voice sank into my being as I peered up at him with big doe eyes. I realised how wild and carefree I felt in his embrace. And how trapped I felt in my own home, with my own family.

The fireflies were reflected in his own eyes. They blended with the honey in them, making them sparkle even more. He looked truly magnificent. I turned around once, gesturing wildly with my hands at the clearing around us, and when I met his gaze again, my lips parted to speak, but I faltered. Instead, I mouthed „Thank you“ and gave him a graceful smile. „I appreciate it, but there is no need to thank me.“ He gestured to the ground and a plaid blanket appeared out of nowhere. 

We lay down side by side, gazing up at the fireflies floating above our heads and the dazzling stars on the firmament. I stretched my hand and accidentally touched his. My breath caught for a second, but Eris didn´t pull away, he even brushed his fingers over mine. The gentle movement made me close my eyes and exhaled deeply.

So there we lay. Enjoying this peaceful moment of life together. Right now I didn´t care what my family or anyone else thought about him. I just longed to stay like this forever and never leave this place, even though I knew I had to. But that didn´t matter now. 

„I found this clearing when I was a child.“ I opened my eyes and shifted to look at him. „Always ran away from my mother to explore the woods, you know? My brothers tried to follow me, but they could never catch up.“ He huffed. „What can I say? I´ve got some speed.“ I couldn´t help giggling at his own comment. „It´s become a safe haven for me. And it can be a safe haven for you too.“ Interest glinted in my eyes. „I use my magic to keep this clearing out of sight of any unwelcome visitors. In other words, my family will never find you here, so you can come and go as you please.“ I gave him a coy smile. „Only if you want to, of course.“ He added quickly. To show him I understood and honoured the fact, that out of all people he showed me his safe place, I squeezed his hand lightly in mine and the tips of his ears turned a shade darker. Was the Eris Vanserra blushing? Because of me? I tried to hold back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. As I rolled back onto my back, I tried to pull my hand away, but Eris wrapped his fingers between mine and gripped them tightly. It caught me by surprise, but didn´t bother me at all. 

So we returned to staring at the night sky, lying in the grass and listening to the crickets for I don´t know how long. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Cauldron, it´s late! I have to go. I shivered and rose abruptly from the ground, causing Eris to follow my movement. „Wait, y/n! I know you have to leave, but I´ve got one more little surprise for you.“ he said, still holding onto my wrist. He reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a long, golden shimmering amulet, adorned with fine, ruby-coloured jewels that glistened under the moonlight. „If you´re ever in trouble, tap the gem in the middle and I´ll know and find you.“ I gratefully accepted the necklace and tucked it safely into my jacket. 

„Take care, little dove.“ He said farewell. „Goodbye.“ I mouthed, winnowing home. 

Little did I know what was waiting for me in my bedroom. 

I flinched, when I spotted my father´s stern face, his arms crossed. „I hope you have a good explanation for why you´re out of bed, young lady!“ His enraged tone made my hair stand on end.

That meant trouble ahead. 

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

„It´s the middle of the night! Where have you been?“ „We were worried about you. You can´t just disappear, darling.“ „Are you all right? Are you hurt?“ 

My parents bombarded me with questions and I couldn´t answer any of them. Of course, I didn´t want to tell them that I had gone to Autumn Court to see Eris, because they would probably become even more worried and I didn´t want to risk that. 

But apparently I didn´t have to say anything. 

My father sniffed the air and before I could cover my scent, he growled. „You were with him.“ His voice was deep and menacing. „I thought we agreed you weren´t to see that... that jerk. He´s dangerous, darling.“ The expression on my father´s face perfectly displayed his anger and disappointment. Something inside me stirred at his insult and I wanted to protect Eris, so unconsciously my hands clenched into fists. „Why did you meet him?“ My mother tried to ease the tension by speaking in a calmer manner than her husband, but I just stood there, frozen, not looking at her. 

Sharp talons scraped carefully along my mind, demanding to be let in, but the hurricane that protected my thoughts only tightened, sending my father´s claws away and causing him to flinch at the unexpected defence. I knew he wanted to know what had happened between Eris and me, but he also would never enter my thoughts without permission. 

„Do you want to know why we´re not overly fond of him?“ He sighed, his tone was kinder this time, and my mother threw him a glance as if to say, `Are you sure?´ 

Do I really want to know why they don´t like him? Do I really want to know the answer to that? I wasn´t sure, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded. 

So they began. 

They told me everything as the moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating my room with an eerie light. From Mor´s escape from Hewn City to what Eris had done to her and how Uncle Az had found her on that terrible day years ago. Also that Eris had once hunted my mother. They told me every detail. 

„He left her. Eris simply left her on the ground with nothing but a note nailed to her stomach.“ My father´s darkness swirled in the corners of my room as my mother gently stroked his arm to calm him. „I will never forget the moment Azriel brought her back. How he held her in his arms. And I will never forget when he was hunting for your mother, how he…“ he hesitated. „What your father is trying to say, sweetheart, is that Eris is not a good man.“ My mother said. „He is no more a good man than his father. Which is another reason.“ 

I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe that Eris was the awful man they told me he was, but I couldn´t forget the man I had met. The way he had laughed when we walked through the forest earlier. The way his eyes had lit up when he heard me laughing.

I couldn´t. I didn´t want to! 

„The other reason we don´t like him, to put it mildly, is his father.“ She took a deep breath. „You must understand that Beron is... he is a cruel man, honey. High Lord or not.“ „The fact that Eris,“ my father clearly struggled with his next words, „is your mate means that you would live with him at Autumn Court because he´s the heir. But only if the bond snaps for you too.“ He came closer and cupped my shoulders, caressing them gently. „Starlight, don´t get me wrong. I´m more than happy that you´ve found your mate, it´s just that I wish it was someone more trustworthy.“ Slowly he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. „Your mother and I just want to know that you´re safe. And the Autumn Court is anything but.“ Both my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself be surrounded by their love and warmth, but there was still that feeling. A feeling hidden deep inside my soul that tried to protest. The perfect little daughter, aren´t you? Always obedient and quiet, huh? Before my inner critic got too powerful, I shoved those thoughts away. 

„My little star, please promise us you won´t see him again? It´s only for your own safety, okay?“ They looked at me with longing in their eyes. Hoping that I would agree with them. Déjà-vu. 

I took a deep breath, silenced my thoughts and looked straight at my parents. I will not back down. Not this time! 

Fake happiness sneaked into my eyes and I nodded, making them sigh and give me each a kiss on the forehead. They just have to believe I won´t meet Eris again. But who said I´d actually do it? I wanted to know his side of the story and I would find out, even if it hurt. 

With these thoughts, my parents wished me good night and left me alone in my room. I quickly washed myself, put on my pyjamas and lay down. My pillows enveloped me like cotton candy clouds and lulled me to sleep almost immediately.

The evening might have been imperfect in the end, but I wasn´t going to let the conversation with my parents ruin the wonderful experience with Eris. And as I thought about him, I soon drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

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It stared at me. The beast without eyes. The beast of many names. It stared. Devouring everything and everyone. Its waves tore at me like a rough wind on a stormy day. It tried to suffocate me. To steal my air. Help me! I need to breathe!

It circled around me and then...! A piercing pain shot through my entire being. It attacked. Again and again. Sinking its sharp claws into my flesh and knocking the air out of my lungs. I was drowning more and more in this all consuming place of nothingness. But this time... something had changed. Something inside me awakened. It growled and fought to get out. 

Another cruel pain shot through me, making this creature inside me even angrier. And then I struck back. I kicked into the darkness around me. I kicked and punched in every direction when suddenly a gut-wrenching scream escaped from the depths of my soul and the blackness around me shook. Every fibre of my being trembled and the darkness ripped itself apart until I collapsed, completely exhausted. 

My eyes were closed, waiting for the beast to strike again, but nothing happened. No sound, nor any noise could be heard. Just silence, floating like a boat on waves of crystal blue water, and my heavy breathing. 

I slowly opened my eyes and sat up. My hands met the ground beneath me. Solid ground! The darkness was still there, but it wasn´t moving. As if watching what would happen next, and just as I was thinking about that, something caught my eye. I turned my head to see a tiny spark glittering in front of me. It flickered again and continued to spread. It grew and grew until a dazzling fire crackled just a few paces out of reach. The flames flickered wildly, and glowing sparks flew in every direction. But instead of backing away, I held up a hand and reached straight into the flames. It should have burned my palm. Burned my flesh down to the bones into ashes. But out of every scenario, it diminished. It calmed down, and its blinding flames retreated, only to reveal a bright orange pelt. 

A fox. A little fox sat in front of me, staring at me with its big, black button eyes. It squeaked and sniffed in my direction. There was something familiar about it. The mischievous gleam in its eyes and the tiny, sharp-edged teeth that showed when it yawned. Cautiously he took a step forward. The tapping of his paws echoed through the brightening surroundings, and his fur shone as if it had been born of fire itself. What a beautiful little creature. He took a few more steps towards me and then lay down carefully in my lap. Completely amazed, I reached out to stroke its fluffy appearance. I was even more surprised when the little fox began to purr like a cat, interrupted now and then by a squeak. 

I didn´t know where it was coming from, but soft rays of sunlight poured in and chased the shadowy beast back to where it had come from. Something settled deep in my chest and the little creature in my lap stroked its head against my hand. The light grew brighter by the second until my vision blurred.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin @lilah-asteria

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar fandom #fantasy #fanfic

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 6

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

AO3

Summary: After finally acknowledging the grief of losing her sister, Susie opens a door for her and DeMarco to grow closer

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

Sunlight blinded her the moment her eyelids peeled open, spilling forth through the gap in the curtains and bathing her in a bright, warm glow. Susie groaned, a headache thrumming behind her eyes, an unbearable dryness coating the inside of her throat. Tossing an arm over her face to shield herself from the sun, it took her a long moment to realise she didn't know where she was.

This registered with a sudden panic, a jolt of electricity shocking her awake as she pushed herself to sit up, thick, comfortable bedsheets rustling with each sharp movement. She wasn't in her hut - for a moment her mind even wondered if she'd somehow ended up home, back in Manchester, until she realised her mother had never been able to afford blankets as nice as these.

An indiscernible mass weighed down her feet, and with a gentle kick, Meatball let out a tired whimper, peeking his head up from beneath the opposite end of the duvet. Susie would have laughed had she not been so dumbfounded by her surroundings, the huge double bed and floral wallpaper utterly unfamiliar to her. Turning her head, she noticed a crumpled scrap of paper on the nightstand, and reached across to seize it, resting uncomfortably on one elbow.

Out on a mission. Called in sick on your behalf.

Meatball's been fed. Coffee downstairs.

See you later

Benny

She'd had to squint to read his handwriting, chicken scratch letters almost indecipherable in her freshly conscious state. It took her a second to recall who 'Benny' even was, the nickname so foreign to her. He'd scribbled a smiley face next to his name, and Susie felt the corner of her lips curl upwards, oddly comforted by the gesture.

Memories of the night before began to return to her. Everything since the call with Beatrice had been a blur the moment she'd awoken, but the longer she sat there, watching Meatball roll back and forth across the mattress, things seemed to return to clarity. She was in one of the rooms above the pub - the owner had been reluctant to admit them so late at night, but she faintly recalled DeMarco slipping the man some extra cash. He'd been there when she'd fallen asleep. She'd woken up earlier that morning - at the time she thought she was dreaming, but now it grew apparent that it had been real. He'd been getting ready to leave, treading carefully so as not to make a sound. As he'd placed the note on the table beside her, he'd whispered something... but now she had no idea what on earth he had said.

Unceremoniously casting away the blankets, Susie rose from her bed groaning as she stretched her arms as high above her head as they could go. Beatrice's words from the night before remained etched clearly in her memory, the only thing she could truly recall with any lucidity. She'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. She had no idea how long it had been since the last time she let it happen - not since Ellie died, for certain. The combination of far too much wine and the sudden release of years of pent-up grief certainly had its way of making its effects felt the morning after. Susie staggered towards the bathroom, drinking cold water from her cupped palms with the fervour of someone dying of thirst, the relief to her throat immediate and heavenly.

Meatball darted back and forth between her feet as she dressed, and it was a constant fight not to trip as she pulled on her trousers. She'd awoken wearing what definitely was her sweater, but where it had come from she had no clue, as it had been tucked away in her drawers back at the hut the last time she remembered seeing it.

At least DeMarco had been right about the coffee. It felt strange to drink it sitting up at the bar, the rest of the pub lit with daylight and entirely deserted save for the barman, still cleaning pint glasses from the night before.

"You look like shit," He pointed out.

"Thank you," Susie nodded. There was a clock up on the wall behind the bar, its steady ticking piercing the veil of silence that lingered over the place. She stared at it for a while, watching the second hand rotate around and around as Meatball sniffed at her feet, nudging her toe with his nose. Tilting her cup, she felt a mouthful of hot coffee scald her throat as it worked its way down.

"Hey - d'you know what time the planes left?" She called to the barman as he wandered past, a keg of beer tucked under each arm.

He glanced up at the clock, blowing out a long breath. "Not sure, love. Think your fella left here about four hours ago, but I could be wrong."

"Oh, he's- ...Thanks." Susie gnawed at the inside of her lip, deciding the correction wasn't worth the energy it would take to make.

But there was something pecking away at her insides, something deep in her stomach that made her feel slightly ill the longer she stared up at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Her heel began to tap incessantly against the leg of her barstool, heaving in one long sigh after the other, fingers drumming against the outside of her mug. There was a restlessness in her that was beginning to drive her mad, and it only worsened with each passing moment she spent just sitting there. Whatever this feeling was, she couldn't just wallow in it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Meatball let out a joyful bark as they left the pub, sprinting down to the end of the road and straight back up to her, tail wagging wildly, tongue dangling to the side. Susie had tugged her sweater back on over her uniform shirt from the night before, slightly-too-long sleeves hanging down past her palms, the wool fraying in places around the hems from years of wear and tear.

She'd never attempted to walk all the way to the airstrip from the village, and the further she trekked it was beginning to become clear why. The hike was far longer than she'd envisioned, and by the time they arrived at the runway, her feet ached for release, although Meatball remained as chipper as ever, the familiar surroundings exciting him as he began to sniff around for friendly faces.

"Oi!" Susie was ripped from her thoughts by the echo of Charlotte's voice as the woman approached. Crowds had already begun to assemble, ambulances and medics waiting nearby in preparation for the worst. It was a formation she'd seen countless times before, but for some reason this time it felt different, a bolt of nausea running through her before she forced herself to look away, turning towards her friend. "You look terrible."

"Yeah, I know. Morning to you too."

"They said you were off sick today," Charlotte frowned, brow arched in question. Of course, she had noticed Susie's absence the night before. Whatever had happened - however her sweater had made its way from the hut to her sleeping form - she was bound to have questions.

"Uh, yeah, I am. I just - I wanted to come up here... are they on their way back?"

"Any minute now," She nodded. Folding her arms tight across her chest, Charlotte moved to stand beside Susie, swaying slightly on the balls of her feet as they both stared up at the grey sky above.

"... Y'know," Charlotte began. "I don't mind if you don't tell me where you went. But you can."

Susie leant towards her, their shoulders pressing together. "I know."

Almost as if on cue, the steady hum of engines came into earshot, the dark shapes of returning planes just visible through the thin blanket of cloud. She hadn't realised that she'd begun picking at her nails in agitation until Charlotte reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her hands away from each other. Susie peered down at them, pink flesh raw and sore around the edges of her nails, then glanced across at her friend. Charlotte had noticed what she was doing without even having to look. She shoved her fists into her pockets.

The sounds of engines rose to a deafening roar as they swooped into land, propellers spinning to a slow halt as tyres skidded against concrete, coming to a slow stop one by one in various states of disrepair. Ground crews and medics were already springing into action from the moment the first bomber made touch-down, and all the two women could do was stand and watch, trying their best to make out the names scrawled across the noses of each passing fort.

She had long lost sight of Meatball, the dog skittering around the place and darting between legs in search of anyone familiar to him. Susie had begun to grow paranoid at her inability to locate 'Our Baby' when his bark split the air and he came bounding up to her from within the crowds, leaping up onto his hind legs as one of his claws caught on her sweater.

"Hey, hey, shhh," She cooed, stroking his head until he calmed down, stilling long enough for her to untangle his paw from the knots of wool. Meatball's tail wouldn't stop wagging, his head snapping back and forth between Susie and the crowds that covered the runway. When she glanced up, Charlotte was already walking away, a faint smirk creasing her cheek.

"Suze!" Her gaze darted towards the sudden voice, spotting DeMarco as he crossed the tarmac towards her, dark hair slick with sweat and plastered to his temples.

"Hey," She breathed, wide-eyed as he approached, a laugh escaping his throat as Meatball jumped up at him, barking with glee.

DeMarco stopped in front of her, lifting his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Yesterday she would've flinched.

"You look nice," He said.

"Oh, shut up," Susie shook her head, breaking their moment of eye contact. He let out a low chuckle, clearly anticipating such a response. "...You alright?"

Nodding for a long moment, DeMarco took a deep breath. "Yeah. Could ask you the same."

"Right, well I was never at risk of getting blown up, but thanks," She huffed, squinting in the sunlight as she began to smile. As he began to shrug off his jacket, DeMarco let out a faint hiss of pain. Susie's eyes narrowed at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh, right, so when you said you were fine you were full of shit?"

He batted a hand at her, shaking his head. "It's just a stiff back - woke up with it. 'S what happens when you sleep in a chair all night, y'know."

"You... Did you stay all night?"

DeMarco froze for a second, and from the way he was staring at her, she could tell he was trying to gauge her reaction, to predict her response.

"I... don't wanna answer that if it'll make you mad at me."

"I assumed you'd just come back in the morning. When I saw you leaving-"

"I thought you were asleep when I left."

"Mostly. I thought I was dreaming at the time."

A lopsided, boyish grin spread across his face. "Oh yeah? You dream about me a lot?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Susie rolled her eyes, whacking him across the shoulder and making him wince again. "... Sorry."

"It's cool. Hey, I gotta go debrief - I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, see you later," She nodded. As he began to walk away, she felt a question burning on the tip of her tongue, desperate to be asked. "Oh, hey - DeMarco?"

He stopped, turning back as he waited for her to speak. What had she wanted to say? Why did you stay? What did you say to me before you left? Why can't I think of anything but whether you're alright when you leave?

"Uh- it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Susie reached into the paper bag in her lap, passing a sandwich across to DeMarco as he poured a cup of coffee from the thermos, fending off Meatball to prevent him from snatching the meat out from between the bread. It had become a usual occurrence for him to join her on her lunch break, bringing with him food of his own to add to her meagre feast, and he came almost every day when he wasn't flying a mission. Charlotte and Maeve had joined them initially, but after returning to work the pair had been left alone, sitting in the grass beneath one of the trees at the edge of the airfield.

Lying back against the ground, she lifted her foot in the air, holding her toe to blot out the blinding afternoon sun. It was almost perfectly quiet here, the wall of trees muffling the constant noise of the ground crews, toiling away across the field.

"So," DeMarco began, propping himself up on his elbows. "If you weren't working here - if there wasn't a war and we didn't have to do all this - what d'you think you'd be doing right now?"

Susie frowned, letting out a faint huff. "God, I dunno. Probably still be in my old job."

"Which was-?"

"I was the projectionist at the Paramount in Manchester. Y'know - splicing the reels, switching them over, keeping the projectors running. Did that for five years before the war - got bloody good at it." When she looked over at him, he was smiling. "What?"

"Nothin', I just wouldn't have guessed it. You liked it?"

"Well, I got to sit around watching films on my own and no one talked to me."

"That tracks, actually."

Susie laughed, a deep chuckle vibrating from her chest. It had been a long time since she'd thought about that theatre, of the hours she'd spent sitting up in that tiny booth, only half paying attention to whatever book she had in her lap so that she was ready when the film ran its course. The constant clicking, rolling, scrolling sound of the reels of film had once occupied her mind almost permanently - she'd swear she could still hear it at dinner, or lying awake in bed at night, the noise etched into her very brain. But it had been years since she'd heard it now.

She lifted a hand to her mouth, biting nervously at her thumbnail for a moment as she built up the courage to speak again, feeling her heart rate begin to speed up inside her chest.

"I have a question, too."

"Oh yeah?" DeMarco shifted in the grass, propping himself up on one side so that he could face her properly. She wished he'd stop staring at her like that. It was awkward enough to ask what she needed to without those damn eyes on her, his expression always so open and forgiving no matter what venom seemed to lace her tongue.

Susie grunted, pushing herself up to stand as she paced back and forth in front of him for a while. He watched her go this way and that, over and over, beginning to frown. "You havin' a breakdown over there?"

"Will you come with me to Charlotte's wedding?" She blurted, rambling so quickly she was worried the words might have blurred together into a single, unintelligible slur.

"What?" DeMarco grinned, although there wasn't a hint of mockery in his smile.

"Charlotte said I could bring someone, I - I dunno, it's stupid, don't worry about it," Susie shook her head, a hint of red colouring her cheeks.

"No, no! I'll come. Not stupid," He hadn't moved from his spot, cheeks creasing with the weight of his grin.

She threw her hands up, refusing to meet his gaze. "It's just, I'm gonna be the only person showing up on my own otherwise, and it'll be weird and embarrassing and-"

"Hey, Susie! Susie. I already said I'll go. I'm just... I dunno, surprised to be your first choice."

Sitting back down again, Susie let out a long, deep breath, feeling a weight rise off her shoulders now that the question was out there in the open. The idea of showing up alone had been bugging her for weeks, but it wasn't until that morning, sitting alone in the bed he'd paid for, did she realise the answer had been in front of her all this time.

"Well, it's- ...Whatever, it's not like I had any old boyfriends to dig up for the occasion."

"You never had a boyfriend?" DeMarco scoffed in disbelief.

She narrowed her eyes at him, shrugging. "Don't act like it's so unbelievable. I mean, I've done the sex and the snoggin' and all that stuff but... no. Nothing serious. But I'm a bit bloody miserable and not very pretty so it adds up."

"Don't say that," He shook his head slightly, tone suddenly firm.

"Don't say what?"

"Don't say you're not pretty - you're very pretty, Suze."

"Oh, but I am miserable, eh?" Susie joked, attempting to hide how taken aback she'd been by his sudden seriousness.

"Hey, I'm sworn to honesty," DeMarco shrugged, laughing as she lashed out, smacking him on the chest with the back of her hand.

"Bastard."

They slipped into silence, watching Meatball attempt to chase a small group of geese across the field. She chuckled as the dog darted back and forth, the birds leaping to fly over his head whenever he got too close. DeMarco let his head loll to the side again, watching her face as she smiled. Who the hell had told her she wasn't pretty? He couldn't believe it - couldn't fathom how she could either. There was something effortless to her that he found wonderful - how she never bothered to curl or pin her hair, how her uniform was never quite up to regulation, how she never seemed able to tie her necktie the same way twice.

Susie let out a groan, her head tilting back. "What is it now?" He asked.

"Remembered I have a job."

"That's rough. You should probably go do that."

With a sigh, she took the last sip of her coffee and scrambled to her feet, brushing stray pieces of grass off her trousers, a faint patch of damp creeping up her back. There was a leaf stuck to the back of her hair, and as Susie scrambled to collect her things, DeMarco stood up, trying and failing to reach it through her constant movement. She turned, almost bumping into him, their faces only inches apart.

"Can I help you?" Susie asked quietly.

He reached around to the back of her head, plucking away the leaf and holding it up so she could see. "Got it."

Letting out a snort of amusement, she nodded, taking a step back and turning to leave. "Come 'round my hut sometime and I'll give you the wedding invitation," She called over her shoulder, the sunlight hitting her auburn hair and lighting the frizz around its edges a bright, flaming orange.

"Will do!" DeMarco shouted in reply, standing perfectly still as he watched her hike up the slope to the top of the field and disappear. Looking down, he realised he was still holding the leaf in his hand.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Darkness had begun to fall over Thorpe Abbotts by the time Susie returned from work, a cigarette burning away between her lips as she approached her hut, keys jangling in her palm as she flicked through to find the right one. Sliding it into the lock and opening the door with a click, the place was already almost full as she entered, her bunkmates reading and chatting and pinning their hair into curlers in preparation for the next day. In the centre of the room, Charlotte and Maeve were holding up a long, white wedding gown, each of them gripping one end, eyeing it closely as they talked amongst themselves. Charlotte had spent months preparing the thing, sewing it herself out of scraps of parachute silk, and it was now achingly close to completion with only two weeks to spare.

"How's it lookin'?" Susie asked, strolling past them to get to her bed, shrugging off her jacket as she went.

"Come over here and put it on," Charlotte ordered.

She sighed, kicking her shoes off. "Again?" She and Charlotte shared almost identical measurements, and in the absence of any sort of mannequin, Susie found herself modelling the dress far more often than she would've liked.

"I think this should be the last time - I just need to sew the lace on once it comes in the post. But I'm not sure about the cut of the sleeves."

"Why can't you just put it on yourself?"

"Fine! Fine, God," Shaking her head, Susie crossed the room towards them, stripping off her uniform as she went. Her friends helped her into the dress, feeling almost lost beneath the layers of identical silk. Charlotte was slightly taller than her, so the hem of the skirt crumpled itself against the floor, but it was otherwise an almost perfect fit.

Maeve sat on the end of her bed, watching as Charlotte surveyed the dress, muttering inaudibly to herself as she poked at the sleeves and the fit of the bodice. Susie refused to turn her head for fear that she'd catch sight of her reflection in one of the girls' mirrors. She'd seen Charlotte wear it enough times to know what it must have looked like on her, but something about the idea of seeing it made her intensely uncomfortable.

"See, I'm thinking of taking the sleeves up a bit," Charlotte explained, marking out with her finger where she wanted to raise the fabric. "Like this, see?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be nice," Mave nodded. She had been dragged into the project just as involuntarily as Susie had, but they played their parts diligently for Charlotte's sake.

A knock sounded at the front door to the hut, and one of the other women scrambled up off her bed to go and answer it. People came by all the time, so the interruption hadn't even caught Susie's attention until her name was called.

"Susie! It's for you."

Her brow furrowed. "Who is it?" She replied, already thinking up an excuse to avoid having to go to the door. The woman stuck her head around the door again, talking briefly to whoever was outside.

"Says his name's Benny."

Maeve's face seemed to light up, grinning over at her. "Fuck's sake," Susie muttered, hiking up her skirts with as much care for Charlotte's handiwork as she could as she marched towards the front door.

DeMarco stood out in the darkness, a nearby streetlight basking half of his face in a warm glow. He'd smiled the moment she'd appeared in the doorway, but it faded into confusion as he took a moment to process her appearance.

"... Oh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Charlotte's wedding dress. We're the same size, she's- ...I dunno what she's doing really."

He let out a chuckle, nodding. She hadn't had a chance to deal with her hair since getting back, and curls protruded at all angles from the bun on the back of her head, which had been steadily slipping out of place for hours. Paired with the wedding gown, it was a distinctly strange combination.

"Well, I just came by to get the invite, I didn't mean to interrupt... whatever this is."

"Ooh, right," Susie nodded, using one of the other girls' boots as a makeshift doorstop as she scurried back inside, skirt held up to her knees as she rummaged in the drawer of her nightstand until she found it.

"There you go," She declared, holding it out to him as she returned.

"Thanks," DeMarco nodded, slipping the invitation into his pocket. Looking back up at her, he couldn't help but stare for a moment. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he couldn't deny that it suited her. He cleared his throat, shaking his head before his mind was allowed to wander to places he wasn't ready for. "Ok, well. Have fun with this," He said, gesturing to her dress. "I'll see you around."

"Yes," Susie spoke slowly, flashing him an awkward smile. As she reached back to close the door, a forgotten pin hidden inside one of the seams poked through her flesh, eliciting a hiss of pain. "Fuck! Charlotte, you haven't taken all the pins out of this thing!"

From somewhere inside, Charlotte's voice echoed. "Take it off before you get blood on it!"

Benny cleared his throat, feeling heat rise to his face. "Oh, right, ok - I'll be on my way."

"Bye!" She yelped, practically slamming the door in his face in her desperation to get out of the dress. Through the door, he could hear muffled voices, fast and irritated, and he let out a chuckle, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he walked away.

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #bernard demarco #bernard demarco x oc #mota #mota oc #mota fic #masters of the air fic #oc: susie #fic | better off

[katerina-marie]

Bathtub Confession (Eres Tú)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 3 to this

The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.

Word Count: 5.7k

Notes: Part 3 of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part two. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs just yet (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.

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

“Should I change my name?”

A beat of silence. A drop of water.

“No.”

“Should I get a wig?”

Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.

“No.” 

“Should I flee the country?”

A minuscule half second of silence.

“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled. 

His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.

“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”

“You want me to lie?” 

“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.” 

That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.

“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.” 

His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.

After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet. 

You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions. 

What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second. 

So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub. 

“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia. 

Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.” 

You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.

“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.

“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched. 

“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.” 

Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint. 

You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.

Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in. 

If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely. 

And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country. 

But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.

“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.” 

Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen. 

“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?” 

The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.

“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.” 

Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”

You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying. 

“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.” 

Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.” 

You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you. 

“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.

“Hello to you too.” 

You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much. 

The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time. 

You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin. 

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief. 

“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub. 

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!” 

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees. 

“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.” 

“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.” 

You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined. 

“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort. 

“You did, and I’m not upset about it.” 

You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.

“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,” 

The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp. 

If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,

“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.

“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.” 

He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.” 

You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.

“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.  

“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”

You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies? 

Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.

He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom. 

“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.

“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.” 

With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist. 

“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.

Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.

“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his. 

“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness. 

“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,” 

“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”

“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.” 

You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did. 

“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?” 

“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.” 

You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over. 

“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.” 

“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.” 

You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna. 

“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.” 

You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.

“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while. 

“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?” 

With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options. 

“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring. 

“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.” 

You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?” 

“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 

“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.

“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.” 

Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms. 

“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed. 

Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor. 

Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again. 

Plink. 

“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.” 

You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor. 

“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door. 

“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs. 

You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.

“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”

“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.” 

“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?” 

Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?” 

No. Way. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.” 

“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!” 

You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.

Oh god, that absolute bastard. 

Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.

“Does that criminal have my car?!” 

You deserved a vacation at this point. 

“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below. 

“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?”

He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.” 

You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population. 

The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.

“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”

You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.

“Oh, fu—.”

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

Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro

[crying-fantasies]

Killing me softly with his song (1)

Masterlist

Part 1: Bleed it out | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Since his time on Dead End almost everything was crude, harsh and hateful, there were moments of happiness along the way, some of betrayal and undying loyalty which he professed with pride, showing the badge on his chassis and the revolution of it's own meaning to save his home, his planet as a whole with all it's inhabitants.

Those times are long gone, he remembers with a heavy thought on his shoulder armor, not even capable of returning to his planet due to the unnumbered atrocious acts of the past and hateful glances attracted to his very name, he understands, he really does.

His acceptance of it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

Earth isn't any better, humans look at him in the same way if not worse, but Soundwave is needed here, at least.

It's almost laughable how humans return to their self-destructive behavior quicker than anybot expected, Soundwave was thinking of a secretly return to Cybertron with his cassettes, saying goodbye to the very few things he liked of the black water planet with total intentions of never coming back, that was his plan, before noticing a little elephant calf, almost in the verge of starvation, collapsed next to the rotting corpse of what he supposed was it's carrier, it's mother, wounds of bullets on the head, ivory nowhere to be seen.

Sadness, sickness, rage and vengeance is what blooms in his spark at the very second, it's mostly his first reaction and feeling what makes him take the calf and secure it in his arms before starting his way to the nearest animal clinic that his friend once mentioned, one that helped the young calf, he finds it and hope the humans that come running to the calf get to save it, as their drive to heal is bigger than the obvious fear on their organic optics after seeing him and the badge on his deck.

Soundwave returns to where the body is, scanning the whole area with his sensors, and notes that there are other bodies around.

That's enough to stay in Earth for a little longer, for how long? He doesn't know.

Humans don't say much, letting him do what he does best while finding hunters, decimating their campsite and letting them be found by human authority, it's their luck if that happens in a few days or a whole month when he let's them trapped in a tiny cage with no food around and it the middle of the wilderness, for once to be at the mercy of others.

Ironic life is, now they need him, Soundwave has always been good cleaning his trace and many organizations are interested in his work so far and want him and his cassettes not only in Africa but almost worldwide, moving around, it's a tentative offer when they bring energon to the table, reminding him of the low energon levels that Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had to endure to be with him in this mess for his softness, again, if Ravage was here he would've called him soft before helping him anyway and say that it was fine, makes him remind of Rumble and Frenzy, worried for them, but knowing better than contact them, both weren't pleased after he was an autobot ally.

There's no real place to go, but wandering around isn't bad either.

So off he goes, and among all of it, he finds you, as a scared passerby, a drop in an ocean of hundreds, thousands, that evade him at contact like a rock in the middle of the river before reuniting with the wildness of massive water bodies, but you change from a drop to a leech, attaching near, not leaving his side even when he did call you leech in the face.

You stay, and it's hard to accept it, to make it part of his life, maybe it's the feeling of the many losses along the way, something missing, Ravage isn't at his side, the twins are thriving on their own in this planet, and he needs something to fill at least a space, you make a great replacement to some point before you are your own person for him, "it's okay", you tell him, little hand holding his servo when, once again, he let's everything be too much, "it's fine", for a moment he wants to call you a liar before you point to your head, Soundwave has never told you, but alas, you are observant, an organic mind is strange, but in that strange place where he has to try hard to discern something, electric pulses wild and way too fast, pumping life around, answers that almost escape his grasp.

In the end, he does find something among all of it, and makes him take distance from you, the "I like you" is supposed to be in an amicable way, but he is sure it's long been something more, and your strange attachment to him isn't strange anymore, but it doesn't mean it is welcomed, at first.

Ditching you when he returns to his own matters is simpler, because what you want from him is impossible, makes his armor tremor with disgust, after coming back he is weak when you are still there, letting you get near, again.

It's only when you aren't there anymore that he keeps moving, thinking about you from time to time, and finds you once again without even trying, Soundwave Is good on his own job to trail after what he wants, even if he doesn't want to do it, even if he does it without noticing, feigning ignorance and disinterested when you approach, once again, to call out his designation with hardly covered adoration, it's only a matter of time before it isn't you who takes his servo on your hand, but the other way around, and it doesn't take much for him to let go of the tremors on his frame when your skin makes contact with him.

That's how it started, and that's how he came all this way to his own present, with one of the most delicate and little living being he has ever had in his servo every night, lulling the new spark to recharge with the combination of human music and the soft and warm extension of his EM field, mimicking the beat of your heartbeat until he gets creative enough to make a song that uses your BPM as guide, his progeny answers, making little pulses now and then, moving as he can, for a while it makes him settle down in a single place, waiting for the moment he is ready to go on again.

For a moment the name Mainframe crossed his processor, thinking otherwise due to respect for his old friend's family that would be less than thrilled to know his name was put on a cybertronian sparkling, even if it was only a code name, then he is open for options when you make a funny face when he wants to call them Emporium, even Buzzsaw looked near to burst out in laugh, the twins have no reservations once they come back and are ready to laugh at him.

It's when the little one starts crying that the name Mayhem was ideal, Soundwave can still feel the pain in his audial receptors from the time his sparkling was a few jorns old, so high that you couldn't hear what was happening while every cybertronian collapsed on the floor, spark almost giving up by the sheer power of the sonic attack, and while you were worried for them he was so, so proud before an almost inexplicable terror was casted over him as he put Mayhem inside his cassette dock.

Everyone needed a moment to be seen as nonthreatening before getting near Mayhem, but Soundwave just couldn't let you by yourself with the sparkling so he returned quickly even when he was the most busy, maybe he was being overprotective as you said, it was most likely you were correct but he didn't really care when he stayed more time near, Soundwave would never care if he had what he thought would be impossible right in the palm of his servo and got to keep it, protecting you both to the point of others not really knowing the whole situation.

He is still worried if he made the right choice, in the cybertronian record you don't exist or don't have enough importance above your kind, by the same standard Mayhem doesn't exist, and since Orion Pax doesn't remember him there is no way to stop an enforcer from coming to your door and seizing him down, as if he will ever let that happen in the first place, it'll be a pain to create an identification for the time his sparkling shows the desire to go back to Cybertron in the future, it's natural and Soundwave would never stop Mayhem from the desire to know his roots, but it'll take time if his information is reliable enough, Soundwave is still worried about you.

The council is better, to some degree, of that he is sure, Windblade and Bumblebee are part of it just like many other mech that has an already formed idea of the badge on his armor.

Soundwave will never stop being a decepticon, since the cause is a part of his function and always will be, but it'll never be yours or Mayhem's, the burden is great as it is, and he can carry on with that alone while you two stay away from his past and away from what he did while fighting a war without winners.

Above all, he wishes you two never put a single feet or ped on the planet, way too worried of what would happen, what they could do to both of you, the image of the calf next to the decaying body of it's mother is twisted and he sees his sparkling clinging to your lifeless body, and it's an image that keeps him online even in the most silent night, making sure your heart is still pumping primordial fluid and Mayhem's spark pulses in similar time.

If, by some very mistake of his, someone were to put even a single digit on you, if they even dared to use you to get back at him or to make him pay for the many errors of his past, he soon realizes, he couldn't take it, he wouldn't be able to resist if your life was extinguished, and the idea of solitude after living surrounded by your love is insufferable, the idea of not even been able to meet you in the all spark is even worse, because not even death could bring him back to you in any way.

Every second is important, he doesn't have to remember it because he has it very present every day, and every one of the things you do or say are registered on his data banks for the moment you really are no longer.

He dreads the mere idea of it, but denying it on his processor will not stop it, so he can only live in the moment and appreciate every second to the fullest.

"Wave wave wave" you come running, as fast as you can with your little struts, catching his attention instantly, searching if there is any danger to make you act like this, but no, he has been sending electric pulses just to be sure and nothing has changed in the last 3 days, but you come anyway, a smile on your little face, Mayhem is with you and that peculiar sharp dentae of his in his full display as he imitates you in your gibberish, exclaiming a "Da da da da da" that catches his attention.

He has noticed that sound from a while ago, he didn't know it was from Mayhem, Soundwave recalls the word, how little humans say it while going to their sires' sides in barely stable legs, seeing it so often while his co-workers are around him and showing with that little details how they have come to trust him, the very same trust he puts on them and in you as he let's you put Mayhem on his servo to get a better look as his sparkling taps with his little and stubby servo above his decepticon insignia.

Soundwave noticed, once again, that your time together would never be enough.

#reader insert #x reader #transformers #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers idw #angst #transformers x human reader #transformers soundwave #soundwave x human reader #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave #tf soundwave #soundwave

[slavicviking]

STWG prompt: Buzz cut/shaved head

Summary: an AU where Eddie Munson is the one to find Eleven in the woods in 1983

wc: 830

Eddie feels his hands sweat.

“You can, uh, make yourself at home,” he says, gesturing to his cluttered mess of a room. “Mi casa es su casa and all that.”

The girl blinks, not a whiff of understanding crossing her face. She looks be around ten years old but he’s never been good with ages, especially for kids. She’s young and terrified, that much he is sure of.

“Do you want something to drink? Water?”

She nods and immediately curls onto herself. Eddie isn’t sure leaving her all alone in his room is a good idea but he doesn’t think there’s a set of rules to follow here. It’s not every day that he finds a scared child out in the woods, dressed only in a hospital gown, not even any shoes on. All he knows is that the look the kid wears on her face, the one she so desperately trying to mask, he recognizes all too well, has seen it in the mirror when Wayne first took him in five years ago.

He goes into the kitchen, eyes flickering to his bedroom all the time. It has never taken so long to fill a glass full of water but here he is, by the sink, counting away every second. His eyes linger on the phone. He should call the police, he knows that, but he doesn’t even know what to say.

She’s stood up from the bed by the time he returns, maybe finally taking his words to heart. That’s until the floor squeaks and her shoulders tense, and there’s a glare thrown his way yet again.

“Sorry. Just – here,” he offers her the glass and she takes it after a second, a huge goblet in a tiny hand looking terribly out of place. The kid turns back towards whatever peaked her interest while he was away. Eddie peers from behind her, not daring to come closer and spooking her further.

She’s looking at a photo. It’s an old one, taken right after he moved into the trailer. Wayne still had a full head of hair, not that it mattered because there’s a baseball cap hiding it all away. He has his arm swung loosely over Eddie’s tiny frame. But it’s not this that grabs the girl’s attention, Eddie thinks.

“My father shaved it,” he supplies with a waver to his voice that always comes whenever the man is involved. Young pimpled Eddie with a buzz cut peers back at him from the photo and both him and the kid can’t look away.

“Papa,” the girl finally says, barely anything louder than a whisper. It’s the first time she spoke as far as he knows.

“Did your father do this to you, too?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his voice as even and gentle as possible even though there’s a storm raging inside him.

“Bad men,” she informs him, not quite what he expected, but he’s finally getting somewhere, he thinks. She taps Wayne on the picture. “Bad men.”

“Oh!” Eddie swallows. “No, no, no. Wayne’s my uncle. He’s a good person. Kind.”

The girl looks confused, as if unfamiliar with the word. Maybe she is. Jesus Christ.

“He can help you. We can help you,” he insists, checking his tone immediately because the last thing he wants is to spook her when she’s finally opening up. “What’s your name?”

Eddie didn’t anticipate that a question this simple would be so problematic, but the girl clamps up, looks anywhere but at him. Her grip on the glass tightens and it’s only now that he notices a tattoo on her thin wrist. The number 011.

The sound of tires against gravel makes them both jump.

“Bad men,” the girl says again, eyes wide with fear.

“No, no. I’m sure it’s just a neighbor. Let me-“ and he sprints to the front of the trailer. Wayne’s not bound to be home until morning but it’s not unusual for a car to drive up at this time of night. Carl Sampson often comes back from his drunken adventures right around now.

But as Eddie peers from between blinds, he doesn’t recognize the car at all. It’s too expensive, too clean to be owned by someone living in the trailer park. The people that come out don’t seem familiar either. His heart stutters when he sees guns glint in the moonlight.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He thinks about the girl in his room. A part of him, a cowardly part of him, thinks about turning her in, his survival instinct kicking in, but he catches himself – what is he even thinking? This is a child. He runs back into the bedroom. The child is looking at him, looking as lost as he feels. He shudders a breath. “Bad men.”

She nods, as simple as that. Eddie’s eyes roam around the room in rushed panic.

They just about hid her in the wardrobe when Eddie hears a knock on the door.

#eddie munson #eleven hopper #stranger things #st #my writing #stwg

[vialovesyou]

𝗳𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗪 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗬

driving to drew's apartment this late was never ideal, especially since y/n was tired after a long shift having have had to stay longer to help a student land her jumps, which was incredibly hard since the student had two left feet. y/n’s head could have used some advil, and she would have been perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours.

but when rudy called her, groaning and saying your boyfriend is wasted and won't shut up about you and you need to come pull him him to bed, she went. it was as simple as that, partially because drew was stubborn when sober and only got worse as the night went on (code for he won't listen to anyone but her )and partly because y/n got a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.

when y/n finally knocked on the apartment door, the sound of austin sighing finally as he swung open the door doesn't surprise nor offend her. madelyn and madison scurried over, welcoming her with hugs and jokes about how sorry they were that they had to call her while chase and rudy tend to the drunken blonde.

" it's alright " y/n reassured. " i don't mind "

the tv was on playing a re-run off star wars, as beer cans and empty solo cups littered the table. pink floyds's dark side of the moon played from a speaker nearby as monica approached. drew was reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other tapped along to the song. monica crouched down next to him and could hear him humming the tune.

jd stood behind y/n, feeling a little helpless " he's been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep "

" and as much as we love you guys together " madelyn added, leaning into chase's side. " he doesn't listen very well once he gets started "

y/n shot them a smile over her shoulder before speaking. " it's okay, i get it. you guys can go if you want, this might take a while " y/n hummed, causing everyone to bid there farewells before they left since they were exhausted. madelyn, madison, chase and jd all left to their respected apartments while austin and rudy went into their rooms as monica turned her attention back to the troublesome boy. " drew? time for bed "

" i told you to fuck off, madelyn. i just want to see my girl " he grumbles without moving an inch causing y/n’s heart to flutter at the nickname. " your girl? " she questioned, a teasing smile on her face.

" yeah, you know the beautiful one?"

" might ring a bell " she muttured, shifting so her legs were crossed in a basket beside him. " yeah, well, she's the most.... the most beautiful person in the history of... of forever. so get outta here and go flirt with chase or somethin' " he lazily waved her odd, mumbling something she didn't quite hear.

a smile fought it's way onto y/n’s face as she gently placed her hand on the smooth pane of his shoulder. " oh, but i wanted to flirt with you instead. how's that sound, hm? "

drew quickly pushed her touch away, seemingly still not recognising his own girlfriend. " it sounds like my girl is gonna come for you any second now, so watch it blondie. she might be small but fuck me she can be scary " drew slurred his words as he spoke, pulling a laugh from y/n’s lips. she gently took his wrist in her hand to remove his arm from his eyes and pressed a kiss where her fingertips touched him. his eyes stayed closed, as he jutted his chin in the opposite direction in protest.

" drew, baby, i'm not killing anyone any time soon " she spoke, leaning over his chest while running a hand through his hair. he opened one eye, suspicious of her claims but quickly realised it was her , and turned to look at y/n like he'll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. " when did you get here, darlin' " he asked, smooching kisses against the girls face causing her to scrunch her nose up.

" oh, just now " she answered, laughter lacing her words. " rudy called me over " she pressed a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, her hand quickly engulfed by his.

" you should've come sooner " his other hand made it's way to her thigh, smoothing over her skin. " i was waiting for you by myself, and - " he abruptly sat up- " there's something i have to tell you " he whispered, casting a glance to his bedroom door. " it's top secret "

with him this close, y/n could smell the vodka on his breath. " yeah? what is it? " she asked, looping her arms around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap causing her to straddle him. her fingernails scratched at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and rubbing the palms of his hand along her back.

" this is top secret, classified information, sweetheart. you can't just get it for free. everything comes with a price !" he grinned slyly, tugging her closer. knowing drew, she already knew where this was headed but played along anyway " name it, then. i'm sure we can strike a deal somehow " y/n fed into him.

he mulled over his words before speaking " hear me out "

" i'm listening " y/n reassured, shifting her hips so she could sit more comfortably. " you " he pointed at her chest. " give me three -no, five kisses for the info up front" when y/n raised her eyebrows in suspicion, he continued. " and every follow up question is worth another kiss "

#outerbanks #drew starkey fluff #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey angst #obx #rafe cameron #drewstarkey #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #jjmaybankangst