#Also that's the first time I draw House's face and damn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jakescakeislateforourdate · 2 months

Note

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college.

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way.

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars.

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time.

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.”

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson.

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe.

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind.

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest.

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin. Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep.

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains.

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued. The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before.

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags.

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off.

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world.

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.”

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right.

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.”

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.”

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout.

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you. He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too.

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?”

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious.

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do.

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt.

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?”

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him.

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away.

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles.

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse.

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it.

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak.

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in.

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat.

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist.

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart.

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

#boys in the boat #Joe rantz #callum turner #joe rantz x reader #callum turner x reader

303 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

Her Protector And His Hubris

Pairing: Bodyguard!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Being Stalked, SMUT, Mother's Death, Mentions of Attempted School Shooting, and Getting Shot.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 11.4K

Summary: Drew's job is to protect her, but he falls for the brilliance of his client and this turns into a whirlwind romance. What can go wrong?

A/N: Damn, this is so long. Also, this is inspired by the Twisted series by Ana Huang, specifically Twisted Games. I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

The sounds of glassware clinking and small talk fill Drew’s ears as he surveys the restaurant. The dim lighting makes him anxious because it impedes his ability to notice any threats. At least, it’s better than when she goes to those ridiculous house parties. Those were not only a safety risk, but irritating to the thirty-year-old man. Her laughter draws his eyes back to her. Ugh, she’s laughing at something he said. Drew doesn’t know what Y/N sees in Sean. This is her third date with him and Drew can easily see that they wouldn’t make it far in the relationship. Sean doesn’t give a tip when they go out to eat. Volunteering in any capacity would be beneath him. And she seemed oblivious to the way he would ogle at her breasts. Drew’s fist tightens as he observes Sean reach over and take Y/N’s hand. Sean brings it up to his lips, kissing up her wrist to her elbow. Drew wants to take Sean’s hands and crush his fingers for the way he touches Y/N. Sean’s touch is consensual with the girl, yet it isn’t welcomed by her bodyguard. Drew knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her as her protector. It’s not his place.

Drew is supposed to be a professional. He’s a bodyguard for heaven's sake; one wrong move and she could be in danger. But what is it about the way her eyes sparkle when she eats those incredibly expensive macarons? What is it about the way her hips move in a teasing manner as she walks ahead of him? What is it about the way her nails glide across the table that makes him wish they are scratching down his back? What is it about her that drives him crazy? Y/N Y/L/N has been his client for a year now and it hasn’t been easy. Not because there are constant threats against her, but because she makes him want to throw away any sense of duty to the job and ravage her. At first, he thought it was just his primal sexual needs that attracted him to her. However, over the year of getting to know her, he realizes he genuinely loves and admires her.

He began working for Magnus Y/L/N after one of Magnus’s competitors threatened the CEO’s daughter. Magnus didn’t waste any time in hiring Drew to protect Y/N. Drew thought that Y/N was going to be like all his other clients. Spoiled. Rude. Self-centred. Greedy. She was none, but one of those things. Being spoiled by her father her whole life engraving the trait into the twenty-three-year-old woman. She was spoiled in the sense she could get whatever she wanted, not in the sense that she would demand the riches of the world. He was pleasantly surprised to find she would always use please and thank you with everyone, even those far below her social class. She would volunteer to read to children at the library purely because she enjoyed the company of the kids. She would not hesitate to help her friends out with money for rent if they needed it. So far, Magnus’s rival has yet to act on his threat; nevertheless, Drew would be there to protect her if he does. It is not only his career; it is his life purpose because he has fallen in love with the young socialite he is tasked to protect. He would lay down his life for her.

The bubbles of jealousy in Drew’s stomach start to subside when he sees Y/N’s face fall at something Sean said. Irritation replaces her smile and Drew feels satisfied with this turn of events. He can see she just wants to get away from the man ahead of her and Drew wants nothing more but to take her back home. Y/N calls over the waiter asking for the bill. Drew knows she will pay for the cheque. She is all for taking turns with paying for dates. Sean never pays though and she is too nice to point it out. It’s not like Sean can’t afford it. He works at the most prestigious corporate law firm, which happens to be his father’s. Drew isn’t going to complain if it’s the reason why Y/N no longer wants to be around the man.

As the waiter approaches the table with the chequebook, Drew heads over to the table, ready to escort Y/N out of the restaurant. She pays for the bill, standing up with a glare at Sean. “I wish I could’ve seen what a pig you were before I went on two more dates with you,” she snarls at him. Drew helps her put her coat on and hovers his hands over her lower back to guide her toward the front door. Sean scoffs, “Whatever. You wouldn’t have been that good of a lay anyways.” Y/N doesn’t so much as look over her shoulder at the childish man. She refuses to let him get to her. Drew’s hand turns into a fist and he leans closer to her. “Do you want me to take care of him?” She shakes her head, “No, it’s fine. He doesn’t deserve any more of my brain space. He’s a pig.” The only thing that could stew Drew’s anger is the need to comfort Y/N. They walk towards her car and Drew holds the passenger’s side door open for her. She whispers a thank you as she slips into the seat. “Home?” he asks once he gets behind the wheel. She nods, letting her attention be drawn out the window. His lip tightens at her upset look, “I’m sorry he was a jerk. He doesn’t deserve you.” She keeps the silence going, only returning with a hum in thanks.

When they get back to Y/N’s penthouse, Drew opens the door for her and does a quick visual sweep of the living room to make sure nothing is amiss. He is satisfied with her safety and holds her hands as she takes off her heels. She walks to her bathroom to get rid of her makeup and change into more comfortable clothes, while Drew heads to the kitchen to take out the dulce de leche ice cream from the freezer. He finds her waiting on the couch in sweatpants, an old t-shirt and a claw clip in her hair. She holds out her hand for the ice cream and he hands it to her, joining her on the couch to view whatever show she chooses.

He isn’t surprised to hear the familiar jingle of Bob’s Burgers’ theme song. She has been re-watching the show recently on Disney+. This tradition has been a part of their daily schedule since she made him crack nine months ago. During the first three months of his employment, he would listen to her beg him to join her nightly unwindings. Drew refused, stating it was unprofessional of him to do so. He gave in after three months when he saw she had a hard day and she needed some comfort from someone. She had been late for work because the car wouldn’t start. Her lunch, which she had packed and was looking forward to, was dropped on the floor after an idiot bumped into her. And to top it off, she got into an argument with her father about a charity she wanted to support. Drew knew she needed someone in her corner, so he didn’t even wait for her to ask to sit down beside her on the couch with a pint of ice cream he knew she loved.

They spend the night in comfortable silence, laughing at the Belcher family’s hilarious hijinks. He can speak up and ask her what Sean had said, but he knows all she needs right now is something to get it off of her mind and Drew would give her that. He would do anything for her.

———

Drew hates it when Y/N goes to parties. They are loud, crowded and dark. It makes his job ten times harder. Add the fact that he has to deal with a drunk client and he dreads the times when she announces she is going out for a party. Y/N doesn’t normally get drunk. She rarely drinks more than two drinks at any event because she hates the creeping headache that happens even as she drinks her first one. However, tonight, Drew can see she just needs to let go of everything just for a night. He stays close behind her, towering over everyone in the party, which gives him an advantage in terms of her protection. His eyes are caught by a commotion in the room. It looks like a fight is breaking out in the other corner and Drew wants to get Y/N out of here before it can escalate to harm her. In the split second, he turns away from her, Y/N has managed to get up on the table behind him and is now dancing without her shirt on.

The party people’s cheers draw Drew’s attention back to his charge. His eyes widen at her drunk dance and he tries to ignore the aching strain in his pants. The swell of her breasts is on full display thanks to her lack of a shirt; her skin pressing against the lacey bra that she wearing. He looks around the room to see the arousal of the other men in the room and all he wants to do is punch every single person eyeing her. He needs to get her down from there; if not for her safety, then because he doesn’t want to get in trouble for causing a scene at the party. How is he going to get her down from there safely? “Y/N, Precious. Please, come down from there,” he pleads, holding his hand out for her to take so she can get down. He can hear the boos of the drunk boys around them. He shakes off his annoyance at them and looks back toward her. Her arms cross, “No, I like it up here.” She turns her back to him, continuing her dance for the crowd.

Drew sighs, knowing that was probably the answer he was going to get. If he pulls her down by the arm, he risks dislocating her shoulder or her falling and hitting her head. So he only has one choice. He hops up on the table and sweeps her off her feet. Now carrying her bridal style, Drew gets off of the table and walks toward the front door. The men in the room yell at him for stopping her show; he couldn't care less. He looks as she comes down from the excitement of the party and relaxes in his arms. His heart flutters when she lets out a soft breath, resting her head against his chest with her eyes falling closed. As he heads to the carl, Drew knows Y/N Y/L/N is going to spell out trouble for him.

———

It’s been one week since her drunk performance and everything has been calm in her life. Y/N remembered what had happened the next morning, instantly mortified by her behaviour and thankful Drew was there to stop her from causing even more of a commotion. The party was filled with children of the country’s richest and most powerful people, so she doubted she would be in any scandal tabloids, yet just the thought that she had behaved like that embarrassed her. Y/N knows she shouldn’t look at her bodyguard the way she does. He is there to protect her and he always maintains his work composure, but she can’t help it. He understands her like the back of his hand and can provide her comfort like no one else by doing little things. His contract stipulates he is supposed to cook her breakfast in the morning and he goes one step further by making her favourites. Her father wanted her to have sustenance in the morning because he knew she was one to skip the first meal of her day, so Drew could’ve just made her eggs or microwaved oatmeal, but he didn’t. The breakfast she receives is picture-perfect and tastes just as good.

She gets out of the car, thanking Drew for holding the door open for her. They head to the apartment building’s elevator and wait in silence as they reach her penthouse floor. The note taped to the door is Drew’s first indicator that something is amidst. His hand finds the gun at his side and this pulls Y/N away from her phone. “What’s wrong?” she questions, looking around the room for something she has missed. Her eyes spot the white paper standing out against the dark wood of the floor. He heads ahead of her, checking over his shoulder that there are no threats in the small hallway. No one should have access to this floor. It requires her fingerprint and keycard in the elevator to enter. All mail is vetted before passing on in her mail room and any building updates are left there as well. So there is no regular reason why the paper should be on there.

As their feet reach in front of the door, she is finally able to read the words scattered across it. I saw your little dance, last week, doll. You really should be more careful with showing people what is mine. A picture of the scene in question is printed below. She lets out a terrified gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.

Violated. She feels violated by what she has just read. She may have been okay with the idea of feeling shirtless in front of everyone at the party in her own intoxicated state, but having someone speak about her in that way feels is a violation. Couple that with the fact the speaker had the guts to put the thought on her door and it is an invasion of her privacy. The picture is the cherry on top of the unsettling cake. The person, who dared threaten her, must be someone in her inner circle. Why else would they be at the party? How else could they have gotten into her heavily guarded apartment building?

Drew can see the panic and fear in her eyes. He turns her away from the door, pulling out his phone to call for backup. She can hear him ordering the police to be called and his security company’s tech analysts come down to sweep the whole building. Her mind goes numb with what to do as more and more people arrive to assess the situation. She can only stand there and watch as everyone who comes tears her home apart, looking for anything out of place. When her bedroom needs to be searched, Drew takes the responsibility of looking through it with her cautious eye on him from the doorway. He makes sure to put everything back exactly how he finds it, taking especially care with the notebooks he knows are her journals. He finishes with her room and invites her to sit on her bed while they wait for the rest of the house to be checked. The all-clear is given around eight o’clock and everyone leaves the apartment in search of clues somewhere else, leaving behind a small army of extra security to guard her house. With a new active threat, Drew’s presence alone isn’t enough to keep her safe.

Until they know more about the situation, Drew thought it would be safer to remain in her apartment, where he knew every inch of the building and the security measures in place already. There have been no indications the person, who made the threat, had made it into the actual apartment. Not sure if her cook is the one putting her at risk, Drew takes dinner into his own hands. He isn’t much of a cook, but he finds pasta and a jar of sauce in the pantry. He gets to work, making a note to search up how to make some of her favourite dinner meals like he did when he first got the job and had to make her breakfast.

He finishes the meal and places it in front of Y/N, who sits waiting at the dining room table with a blank stare and her knees to her chest. He sits to her right and pushes the plate toward her to snap her out of her thoughts. “I know it’s scary to be here right now, but we’ve checked the whole house and there is no sign the intruder came into the house. It’s safe. I’m here and I promise I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you,” he whispers. The last part is mostly a silent vow to himself. Her eyes glance upward at him, “I’m not hungry.” The only thing she manages to get out. The unreasonable side of her is telling her the intruder had somehow touched her food. Drew sighs, “Precious, you have to eat something. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning. I let not eating lunch slide, but I really need you to eat dinner. Do you want me to make you something else?” The care in his voice causes her to pull the plate closer to her; she can feel his eyes on her as she brings the fork to her food and then her mouth. He gives her a smile before digging into his own food.

She follows him into the kitchen after dinner and watches him do the dishes. He doesn’t let her help out, so she leans against the counter. Once he is done with the chore, she heads to her bedroom and listens as his footsteps stay close to hers. She starts going through her nighttime routine, getting her pyjamas and heading to the master bathroom to change. She can feel his eyes on her the whole time and she is comforted by the fact that he is still taking care of her. He should probably leave her alone. They’ve checked the whole apartment. No one is there and his room is down the hall, so an invader would have to go past his room first without his notice to get to her and that is impossible. He doesn’t want to leave though; he wants to make sure she is okay.

The door to the bathroom creaks open and she walks out in light pink sweatpants and an old white t-shirt. He knows she is getting ready to go to sleep. He is about to leave the room when her voice calls out. “Can you stay please?” He turns back to her with knitted brows. She points to her bed, “Can you stay with me in my room?” “Y/N, I don’t think that’s wise,” he advises, leaning against her door frame. She steps closer to him, “Please, I’m scared to be alone. I don’t think I’ll get any sleep if I am.” This hits a nerve in him. Drew is always caring for her well-being. Telling her to eat. Reminding her to go to sleep. Little things like that. Drew lets out a loud breath, nodding his head. “Let me just go change my clothes and I’ll be back,” he notifies her. He leaves her room and she settles herself into her bed. For tonight, she has to stay in this house, but tomorrow, they’ll be able to get their barrings and maybe find somewhere else to stay. Her skin crawls at the idea someone thinks she is their property and they went through so much trouble to let her know.

He returns in a Western Carolina University t-shirt and gray sweatpants. The sweatpants may be a little baggy on him, yet it doesn’t leave anything to her imagination and she feels her thighs clench together. She shouldn’t be imagining how good it would feel to be stretched out by him. He’s her bodyguard. He must have a partner of some kind. A girlfriend. A boyfriend. A spouse. He’s too good-looking and sweet not to. She may have been living with him for a year now, but she knows nothing about him. He doesn’t really talk about his personal life. She’s only been able to pick up a few things about him over the year. His favourite book is East of Eden; she’s seen him read it about three times since he moved in. When he misses home, he goes to the grocery store to buy the ingredients for his mom’s chicken casserole. And now, she knows him or someone he knows went to Western Carolina University.

He sees her on the bed and his footsteps bring him near her. She swears it’s like there are rocks in his feet because his steps are heavy and slow. He hesitates as he pulls the sheets back and causes the bed to dip as he lies down. The covers are pulled against his chest when Y/N turns to him to place her head on his chest. He doesn’t say anything. They can both feel they need this physical contact to be soothed. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is a little shaken up by the whole ordeal like Y/N. What would have happened if they had been home? What would have happened if they got home earlier and had run into the intruder? It doesn’t sit right in him as he listens to her breaths fall shallow and sleep comes over her. Drew is not lucky enough to fall into the same state as her. His insomnia and need to protect her will keep him up for most of the night.

———

Drew is surprised when he wakes up from a five-hour sleep. Normally, he sleeps no more than two hours a night and that is if he is lucky to get any sleep at all. Something about having her in his arms while he lies in bed must bring peace to his insomnia. He looks at her with a sleepy smile. His eyes fall on the clock and he should probably get up to make breakfast so they can get their day started. He needs to come up with a new protection plan and assess if she is still safe in her apartment. His limbs untangle from hers; he does his best to not wake her up as he gets out of bed. He’ll get hot while cooking, so he slips off his shirt and leaves it on his bed before going to the kitchen. He pulls the door closed but not completely, leaving a little sliver open for him to be able to come to check in on her.

She wakes to an empty bed and she wishes it isn’t. Panic fills her, thinking something has happened to Drew. The sounds of pans hitting each other fill her in on where he is. Her heart swells at the thought that he is still making her breakfast after last night’s scare. She is about to leave the warmth of her bed when her eyes fall on something on her bed. The gray shirt once on Drew’s chest now rests on her blankets. He was so gracious to her last night and took care of her. He didn’t have to stay with her the whole night; he could’ve sneaked out of her room as soon as she fell asleep, but he didn’t. Solely the thought of him brews something between her legs that needs to be fixed before she goes down to eat. She should have enough time while he is cooking.

Her hand reaches out for the shirt to bring it to her nose. The smell of his Versace cologne and the smoke from the cigarettes he sneaks fill her senses. He has been hiding that he smokes ever since he found out she isn’t a fan of the tobacco-filled sticks. She shouldn’t like the smell of the cigarettes, but she can’t help that it reminds her of him. The shirt falls to the side of her head; she uses her hands to pull down her pants and underwear, leaving her shirt on for some warmth. One hand goes up underneath her shirt and the other goes up to her mouth. She puts her fingers in her mouth before bringing it down to her weeping pussy. A wet finger plunges into her hole, causing her to cry out in pleasure. She had failed to see her bedroom door was not completely closed.

Drew stops his movement as soon as he hears her scream. He shuts the stove off, moving the pan off of the hot burner. He runs upstairs to her room. He stops just short of the doorframe when he hears her pants. It is obvious what she is doing by how breathy they are. It’s wrong to keep listening, but he hopes he can get a hint as to who she fantasizes about while she satisfies herself. It takes every bit of self-restraint he has not to pull his penis out of his pants and jerk himself off to the sweet sounds coming out of her mouth. “Drew.” His name falls off of her lips; this has to be a dream. There is no way the woman he loves, his client, is masturbating to the thought of him. He peeks his head through the door and suddenly his dick starts pressing against the fabric of his pants. While her hands are placed on her vagina and breast, her face is to the side, burying itself into a gray piece of fabric. He recognizes it as the shirt he left here before he went downstairs to make their breakfast. What he is about to do is inappropriate; nevertheless, he needs to be the one drawing those sounds from her.

“You made me think you were in danger, Precious. Instead, I find you touching what should be mine,” he snarls, taking a step into the room. The use of the word mine should cause turmoil in her stomach; however, she knows he isn’t using it in the same sense as the note. Drew uses mine to mean an exchange. Whereas, the note made her a possession of her writer and that doesn’t sit well with her. If Y/N gives Drew a piece of herself, then he will give her one right back. She would be an object to whoever wrote the note. He stalks closer to the bed, getting a better look at her soaked pussy. She feels the bed drop under the weight of his upper body; he stays kneeling at the foot of the bed. His hand wraps around her ankle and she yips as he pulls her closer to him.

He takes a chance to glimpse up at her face, which is staring down at him with want. She gives him a minuscule nod and tries pushing his head toward her aching heat. His neck resists her force, chuckling at her actions. “Aren’t you eager, Precious?” he teases, smothering his head between her legs. He laps at her folds like a man who hasn’t drank water in years. Her hands grip the sheets beneath her, creating waves in them. Drew’s eyes narrow at her hands and he brings them to his hair. Her nails graze his scalp as she throws her head back with a moan. He pauses for a second, wanting to appreciate the look of bliss on her face and the symphony coming out of her mouth. His mouth continues to work against her, making her feel incredible in ways no man has before. “Drew, please. Keep going,” she begs. Her fingers bring his head closer to her, clenching around his tongue. He pulls back with a smirk, “You like this, huh? Do you like being eaten out by your bodyguard?” Her head bobs, wrapping her legs around his head. She grinds her hip into his face.

His tongue darts into her vagina bringing her to her climax. “Hmmm. I love the sounds you are making for me, Precious. It’s my favourite sound in the world,” he mumbles, cleaning her up. He stands up and admires her body twisting to the side in contentment. She sits up, eyeing the way his pants aren’t hiding anything at all. She scoots to the edge of her bed and brings him in between her spread-opened legs. Her hands meet the skin of his bare chest. She points a finger against him, tracing down the middle line of his abs. She reaches his lower abdomen and slips her hand inside of his pants. “Now, it’s my turn to hear the pretty noises you can make,” she instructs in a sultry voice.

Her hands shove him back a little, so she has enough space to sink to her knees. She grips his dick with her hand, rubbing up and down. It drags out the most amazing groan out of him. She can the wetness pool in between her thighs again. He spots the way her legs come together and it makes him even harder. “Precious, this feels so good,” he pants out. She needs something to loosen the friction, which means she opens her mouth and brings his length into it. She sucks at the tip. Her tongue swirls around the head of his dick, tasting his precum. “You taste amazing,” she praises before shoving herself further down his cock. He hits the back of her throat and she stays there for a second until she needs to pull back for air. She lets the air into her lungs before taking him into her mouth. Her head moves on his shaft and she continues to repeat the routine for a few minutes. He starts to feel a tug at the pit of his stomach, causing him to twitch in her mouth. His hips start to move back to meet her in the middle and unleash the tightening in his belly. She eagerly swallows everything he gives her.

He pries her head off of him, gazing at the way a string of his cum connects his tip to her lips. “Get on the bed,” he orders. She climbs onto the bed and looks at him through her eyelashes. Her lustful stare hardens him again. She removes her shirt while he takes care of his pants. He dives into bed beside her and twists them both to their sides so her back is pressed against his chest. Mimicking the positions of her hands when he caught her, his fingers play with two of her buds. She can feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he twirls her nipples to arouse her. He is satisfied by the dampness between her legs and grabs his dick instead to guide it into her pussy.

His thrust brings her hand to his bicep over her shoulder and she digs her nails into the skin. The slight pain it brings is worth it if it tells him how well he is doing to make her feel good. “You are clinging to my cock so beautifully. I think I might cum right now, but lucky for you, I have better stamina than that,” he groans, continuing the bring his hips against her ass. His hand on her breast goes to her hip to help keep her in place. He finds her G-spot, making her curl in on herself a little. His back follows her shift forward and his lips find her neck. She feels his teeth squeeze her skin between them, throwing her head back to give him more access. The grip on her hip is so strong that she is sure there will be a bruise later on. Eventually, she starts needing more out of his pace, so she propels backward to meet him. With both of them now working together, a knot starts to build in her lower abdomen. “Drew, I’m about to come,” she cries out, tensing her hand around his bicep. As her walls start to clutch around him, her face falls forward and he can no longer see her face. He focuses on aiding her in her climax.

The hold she has on his penis hinders his ability to drive forward, yet it doesn’t stop him from hitting the spot inside of her that helps uncoil the formed tangle. He works her through her high, yanking himself out once she is loose enough. She rotates onto her back and smiles at the sight of him. He shifts to be hovering over her on his elbows. His lips connect to hers, separating so they are barely touching, “That orgasm was for you, but do you think you can have another one? This one is for me. I want to see your face while I unravel you.” He places his stiff dick between her legs and looks at her for permission to continue. She feels a little sensitive, except she wants to give him another release like he just gave her. Her skull jerks up and down.

He grins down at her, kissing her as he enters her again. Her slick from her recent orgasm helps him do it with ease. She lets out a whimper because of her delicate state; head dropping to the pillow. In this second round, he is much slower, wanting to take his time with her. There is no guarantee he will ever get to be in this position again, no matter how much he prays to be. He brings her into her arms and buries his head into her neck, leaving prints along it with his mouth. The feeling of her wrapped around him tugs a moan out of him. It encourages him to persist, wanting to be in her vice once more. Another petit mort constructs within him. He desires to hold off a little longer; this must last longer. He can think of one way to be in this intimate moment forever. “I love you,” he rushes out. She looks away with disbelief in her eyes, “You don’t have to say that just because we are having sex.” He freezes, pulling back to see her eyes. His hand cups her cheek; his thumb ghosts her lips. “I’m not saying it because we are having sex. I’m saying it during sex,” he clarifies, searching to see if she understands. Her shoulder shrugs, “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is it means I truly mean the words. I’ve felt it for a long time. There was never a right time to say it,” he spells out. “I love how you ask the cook to buy me uncrustables and leave them in the freezer. I love how you always bring water to your drunk friends on a night out. I love how the universe gave you everything and you still give everyone all you have.” Her heart must’ve beaten out of her chest and jumped into his mouth to his chest because he had her heart entirely. “I love you too,” she confesses, the truth in her eyes. The joy he feels at her words combined with the gripping of her vagina brings him to an early climax. Thick ropes of semen come out of him as he presses forward with his hips again to ride it out.

She follows soon after, pressing his body against hers by wrapping a leg around his hip. Their heaves overcome the room, a reminder of the line they crossed and never want to reverse. He slips out of her, now soft after the exercise they just went through. His body collapses to her side, exhaustion taking over him. She nudges her skull upon his arm, letting him sling it around her shoulder. “Can you carry me to the bathroom, Drew? Please,” she inquiries. He looks down at her with a grin, “Of course, Precious.” His feet plant on the floor, rising to the side of the bed. She gazes at his naked glory ahead of her. He kisses her forehead and assists her in sitting up. Her arms and legs enclose around him, bringing them chest to chest. His hands support the bottom of her thighs as he walks to her adjoining bathroom. He flips the light on and opens the toilet lid to allow her to sit on it. Before removing her from the toilet, she hears water dripping from the shower head. Steam fills the room and he transports her to the shower. Since she doesn’t like baths, she went all with the design of her shower. A room-size stall. Waterfall showerhead. Side jets. A little alcove to sit on. The whole nine yards.

He sets her down on the seat, going to get the shampoo. He returns and starts working the soap into her hair. “Did you really mean it?” she mutters, barely louder than the water. His arms wrap around her shoulders, “Every single word.”

———

They didn’t have a label for what their relationship had blossomed into and they didn’t feel they needed one. She is his and he is hers; that’s what matters. It’s been a month since the stalker incident and there hasn’t been another. Y/N thought she would need a break every so often from seeing the man she loves every single second of the day, except it isn’t the case. It’s Drew’s monthly day off and she craves his company more than anything. He didn’t want to leave her side either, especially with the stalker at large, but it would’ve been suspicious if he had stayed. What they have between them is meant only for their knowledge. Throughout the day, they both found themselves peeking at the clock for a sense of how long until they could be together again. Y/N’s knees would bounce at her desk at work and Drew would wander the streets of New York City, buying anything that made him think of her. As he walks through the front door of her apartment, it’s a real struggle for him to hide his grin from James. James Notting works for the same security agency as Drew and replaces Drew on his days off. James spots his counterpart and his eyebrows connect. Drew is back earlier than normal.

“You can go now. I’m back on duty,” Drew informs, placing the shopping bags on the table. James shakes his head, “Are you sure? You still have two hours left.” “Yeah, I ran out of things to do,” he states.

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Where is she?”

“The kitchen.”

As if on queue, the sound of a pan dropping on the floor reverberates around the apartment. “I’m okay.” They hear her yell from the other room. Drew looks at James in confusion. They both know she can’t cook. “Don’t ask me. She’s been in the kitchen for about an hour and ordered me not to enter,” James explains, grabbing his stuff to leave. Drew locks the door after James exists and enters the kitchen to figure out what his precious is doing. “Precious, what are you up to?” he interrogates. Y/N jumps at the sound of his voice, hiding something behind her back. “What are you doing back home so early?” He chuckles and steps toward her, caging her against the counter and between his arms. Neither of them answers the other’s question. She grins up at him and kisses him quickly as a distraction. His tall stature makes her attempts futile. He glances over her shoulder to see slightly burnt roasted potatoes on a pan. The scent of herbed chicken hits his nose and he scans for the source, finding it on the counter beside them. “Are you trying to make dinner?” Her attention shies away from him, which he returns with a finger under her chin. He can feel the warmth growing on her cheeks.

“Yes, but it didn’t go as well as I thought it would. I thought it would be easier. You don’t have to eat it.”

“Non-sense. It looks delicious.”

Excitement blooms in her and she gets serving dishes out of the pantry. He helps her set the table in warm silence. Everything is in place and they seat themselves at the table. She happily serves him food, waiting for him to take a bite. The first thing he tastes as the potatoes make contact with his tongue is a bitter undertone that overpowers everything. He resists the urge to crumple his face like paper. Her eyes are trained on him, anticipating the review of her cooking. He can’t dim the hope in her eyes, so he has no choice but to lie. She put so much effort into this dinner for them. “This tastes wonderful, Precious. I didn’t know I was protecting such a good cook this whole time. You should help me make breakfast,” he applauds. “Here, let me serve you some so you can try.” He selects the unburnt potatoes and cuts her the chicken thigh before handing her back the plate. It’s not like the meal is horrible, the potatoes are just a little burnt and Drew wants to keep the secret to himself.

She thanks him in a whisper. She digs into her meal and he can see she is enjoying it. He lets out a small satisfied sigh and gets back to eating. Y/N is a slow eater, so it’s not a surprise Drew finishes eating first. His head rests on his chin and he resorts to gawking at her. She can feel his stare on her.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Because you are. And I would kill anyone who would dare to hurt you. Your heart belongs to me.”

“And yours belongs to me,” she repeats, leaning over to give him a kiss. She doesn’t have to worry about being safe. As long as Drew is around, she has nothing to worry about.

———

The weekend means they can spend all day in her apartment. Her work week was left behind for forty-eight heavenly hours of the two of them together. While cuddling on her couch with the TV on, he realized they hadn’t checked the mail since Friday, so he went down to get it. He listens to the whine of the metal door opening as he reaches in to take the mail out. He looks through the different envelopes and finds one with his name written across the front. The writing is vaguely familiar. His hand tears open the paper and pulls out the letter. You don’t deserve her. She is mine. Under the writing is a picture of his longing glances at her. It is clear to anyone the feelings held within him. He folds the paper and puts it into his pocket. He should probably send it to the lab for analysis, but it would bring suspicion to his relationship with Y/N. He doesn’t need anyone’s help. He could keep her safe by himself; nothing would happen to her with him by her side. Plus, this is more of a threat to him and he isn’t scared by some loser's threats.

He enters the apartment to find the couch now empty. He can hear the shower running and his mouth turns into a curve. She has been putting off showering while he is around because it always ends up with them having sex. He decides to give her a break and rests on the couch. Something on the coffee table piques his interest.

It’s a thick rectangle wrapped in purple paper and pulled together by a red ribbon. There is no note that he can see. He rips open the gift and finds a special edition of East of Eden. It’s a stunning hardcover copy with golden sprayed edges. He thumbs through the pages and lands on the title page. She had written on it. I hope you like this special edition of the book. It’s just a little gift to show my appreciation for everything you do for me. I love you so much. -Y/N <3. His heart is touched by her actions and tears form in his eyes. The distant sound of water hitting the shower tiles is replaced by her footsteps approaching her living room. Her hair is being held up by a green towel and a white one is wrapped around her breasts to cover her. “You’re back! And you found my gift. Do you like it?” she inquires, joining him on the couch again. He brings her onto his lap; his hand resting on her bare thigh. “I did find it and I love it. Thank you, Precious.” His lips kiss her neck and his hand makes his way to the front of her body. “After I’m done thanking you for the gift, I’m also going to have to punish you for taking a shower without me,” he growls against her skin, plunging into her now-drenched hole.

———

Drew sits across from her at the cocktail bar, enjoying the way she laughs at the stupid joke he made. It is inappropriate for him to be sitting with her in public. No one is around to object to it though. The patrons of the dive bar could care less about who the couple are to each other. This isn’t the type of establishment Y/N could often be found at, except she has a point to prove.

They had been trying to figure out what to eat for dinner when Drew made a teasing remark. “What should we get for dinner? We can order Fortunas, Petite Coquette, or… Why are you looking at me like that?” she grumbled. He shrugged, “Everything you eat is so fancy. Have you ever eaten food that you don’t eat with a fork and knife?” She gently slaps his biceps. “I eat sushi,” she argued. His brows raised, “You use chopsticks for those. Let me reword my questions. Do you ever use your hands to eat something?” “Yes! I use my hands to eat oysters,” she pointed out, continuing to scroll through their food options. “You are still proving my point, Precious,” he teased. Y/N got up from the dining room table and headed to her room. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to get ready. You should too. I’m going to prove you wrong,” she told him.

This is how they find themselves in a dive bar in Brooklyn. The waitress arrives with their food and places it in between them. They both thank her as she walks off. Drew studies the wings on the plate and his eyes fall on her again. “Are you really going to eat those with your hands?” She flicks her head up and down, reaching over to grab a wing. He delights in the way the sauce smears across her fingers. She bites into the meat, humming at the taste. “See, I’m using my fingers,” she demonstrates. Her stained hands are held up to his face. He takes it into his hold and licks a little bit of sauce off of it, “Hmm, you did. You picked a good sauce. I like it.” He picks up his own wing to devour. “How are your siblings?” she asks. He gives her a surprised look, “You remember I have siblings?” “Of course, it’s one of the only things I know about you. I just realized we know so little about each other,” she notes, wiping her hands with a napkin.

“My siblings are good. One of my sisters just had a baby girl. What else do you want to know?”

“Aww, I love babies. You’ll have to tell me more about the baby later. As for what else I want to know… hmmm… When we first had sex, you were wearing a Western North Carolina t-shirt. Did you go to school there?”

“I did. I double majored in English, and Screen and Television.”

“Really? I can see why you did English because you are always reading when we are home, but Screen and Television? If you majored in those, then why become a bodyguard?”

His shoulders shrug and his vision drops to the food. “Yes, screen and television. I’ve always wanted to be an actor, but once I graduated, I realized it wasn’t practical. So I enlisted right after I graduated and after six years in the service, I decided not to renew my contract. It got too much for me,” he recounts. She can see how his tone has mellowed out and she reaches across the table to hold his hand. “It must have been a hard few years. Thank you for protecting our country. In a way, we can technically say you were protecting me that whole time too. How did you get into the security business?” His thumb circles the skin on the back of her hand, “You’re welcome. And I guess you could say I was made to protect you. After I left the army, it just made sense to become a bodyguard. The skills I learnt in the army transferred over quite nicely.” “Makes sense. You are very good at your job. I always feel very secure when you are around. How long have you been a bodyguard?” she continues the conversation. “I’m coming up on two years on Sunday, actually. I did one year as protection detail for a bunch of different clients and the almost one year I have with you.” She takes this information in and files it away for when they get home.

The waitress returns with another plate of wings and this time, there are carrots and celery on the side. Y/N’s face scrunches at the sight of the celery. “Yuck, you can eat all of the celery. I don’t like it,” she imitates like a child. She picks up a green stick and waves it at his mouth. He tilts his head to the side, “How can you not like celery? Have you tried it?” Her head shifts from side to side, “No, but my mom didn’t like it.” The conversation pauses at the mention of Katrina Y/L/N. Drew knows the story of Y/N’s mother.

Katrina Y/L/N was a guidance counsellor for a public high school in an underdeveloped part of New York. She didn’t work for the money. She worked to truly make a difference in the lives of children who needed her. Unfortunately, it was what brought her life to an end. One of her students had been expelled and he had returned to the school for his revenge on everyone, who he blamed for his expulsion. Katrina had been able to stop him before anyone could get hurt, except when the police arrived, they didn’t know. One wrong misinterpretation resulted in Katrina falling to the floor and she was bleeding to death. Y/N’s father wanted to sue the police department for all it was worth and obliterate the officer, who had accidentally shot his wife. Y/N talked Magnus down from his vengeance. They had all the money they needed and nothing could bring Katrina back. Katrina had chosen to save the young boy from the bullet and twelve-year-old Y/N had a much better idea of how she could honour her mother. With her father’s help, she designed outfits for a fashion show. Tickets were charged to some of the biggest names in the business and all proceeds went to an organization that helped renovate public schools.

Drew had learnt all of this when he was doing research on Y/N after getting his job. He remembers going through the pictures of Y/N waiting outside of the school for her mom to come back. He remembers the pain on her face when the coroner wheeled her mother out on a gurney. He wished he could’ve been there to keep Katrina safe for Y/N, but nineteen-year-old him wouldn’t have had any idea what to do.

“Well, you aren’t your mother. So you should try it,” he suggests, wanting to ease her discomfort from the thought of her mom. She considers his order and takes a bite out of the stringy vegetable. Her face shows her discomfort at the taste in her mouth. Drew chortles at her expression, taking the stalk out of her hand. “Okay, so maybe celery isn’t your thing. At least, you have me to eat all the mean celery,” he jokes and finishes the rest of the disliked marshland plant. Y/N’s lips don’t rise at his joke, “My mom always used to say I would make an amazing fashion designer one day. She would let me style her outfits for different events with my dad. Could you imagine? Eight-year-old me going through my mom’s closet and picking out whatever I wanted her to wear. I look back at some of her old event pictures and think she really must have loved me to have worn some of the things I chose.” He smiles at the imagery of the girl he loves playing dress up with her mom. “She did love you. You know that right?” he confirms. The corner of her mouth softly raises, “I know. She told me it every second she could. I just wish I could know if she is proud of me. She may have said I would be a good fashion designer, but I want to know if she is proud of my choice to actually pursue it. I’m not doing anything noble like her.”

He can sense the comfort she needs from him and he gets up to head behind her chair. His arms wrap around her shoulder, pulling her into an embrace. His lips meet the skin of her cheek and then the shell of her ear. “She would be so proud of you. Precious, what you are doing is noble. You took what you love and you used it to give back to the community. That is noble,” he reassures. He can feel her breath hitch at such physical touch from him in public. They’ve never been this close to each other in proximity to other people and she is thanking the fact no one in this bar would care about the daughter of a big CEO. Her arms reach out behind her to bring him in closer, “Thank you. You made me feel better. Do you think I can talk to you more about my mom? My dad rarely likes to talk about her.”

“I will always be here to talk about your mom if you want, Precious.”

———

All week Y/N would return home from work and immediately shut herself in her home office, ordering Drew to stay out of the room. He doesn’t know what she is up to. Maybe she just needs some space from him. He starts suspecting that isn’t the logic behind her motives once she demands Drew stay in his bedroom until she comes to get him. He hasn’t stayed more than ten minutes in what used to be his old room following them getting together. Her room has practically become his. He could cheat and look at the security cameras in her living room, but he doesn’t want to spoil whatever surprise she has for him. The sound of the front door opening causes nerves to grow in him, except he trusts she wouldn’t do anything to put herself in danger. He busies himself with reading the copy of The Son by Philipp Meyer Y/N bought him.

About an hour later, a quiet knock on the door captures his attention. “You can come out now,” she announces and opens the door for him. The open door reveals her wearing the pink sundress he loves so much on her. She beckons him to follow with a massive grin. Their feet slap against the hardwood floor and as they round into the living room, he finds a space full of people. He examines the faces of everyone. He recognizes every single one. Her father. James and their co-workers. His friends. Some of his army buddies. And lastly, his family. Hung across the fireplace is a banner that says Happy Two Years As A Bodyguard, Drew! Everyone cheers at his arrival and he searches for Y/N for answers. She sees his face, “It’s a party to celebrate two years of being a bodyguard.” He wants to hug her, except it would be inappropriate in the opinion of the party guests. To them, Drew and Y/N are just a bodyguard and his clients. The only argument as to why Y/N throws a party for him is her personality. She loves commemorating other people’s accomplishments.

“This is fantastic, Y/N. Thank you,” he acknowledges, wishing he could give her a kiss. She casts her sights downward and swings her arms behind her back, “It was nothing. I had fun planning it and making the decorations. It kept me busy.” Drew starts to examine the decorations with a newfound appreciation upon learning she crafted them by hand. “You did all of these. Y/N, these are incredible,” he acclaims. He is impressed by her craftiness.

He recognizes the smell of his mom’s chicken casserole and his stomach grumbles for a taste. The swarming of his loved ones to congratulate him stops him from being able to do it. Drew is catching up with an old army friend when Y/N presents him with a plate of his favourite foods. “Sorry to interrupt. Drew hasn’t eaten all day. I want to make sure he does at some point today,” she explicates in advance of her walking away to chat with Magnus. His world starts to spin on its own axis. One where she is the axis at the center of his earth. Her effort to concern herself with his well-being and to plan a party for him shows her adoration for him. He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend and he thinks it is time to officially label who they are to each other. Not to the world. Merely for them to know what they mean to each other.

———

The guests left a few hours ago after helping with the clean-up, leaving Y/N and Drew to relax on her couch. The words on the page aren’t being processed with Y/N’s head on his lap. She flips through the pages of her magazine. He perceives the way she halts between articles to write down some notes. His digits drag through her hair in admiration. This moment is perfect to legitimize their relationship. “So,” he begins to fixate her view of him. She drops the magazine to her chest. “I was thinking that maybe I could start calling you my girlfriend. Obviously, I won’t be telling other people, but I just think it could be something for us. To prove our devotion to each other.” She beams at him and sits up. Her lips smack on his. “I would be happy to be your girlfriend,” she confides to him. The pressure in his heart diminishes and beats at a steady pace. He feels like the world is in his hands because she quite literally is.

———

Drew acknowledges it isn’t logical to keep Y/N from the outside world. She can’t stay in the comfort of their home forever. Besides, he treasures the way her hair is a wave in the wind and her eyes are stars in the sunlight. Freshly cut grass nauseates him and he fights through the feeling to keep doing his job. She wishes he could sit with her during her picnic, yet she comprehends his need to stay vigilant. The wine glass in her hand meets her lips and she gulps down the aromatic alcohol. She takes a bite of the brie from the charcuterie board. The breeze from the wind almost carries her magazine into the air. He has to hold in his enjoyment of her chasing after the booklet. She approaches him, finally catching it in front of him. She straightens up with a sense of accomplishment; however, her expression plunges alongside her widening eyes.

He can’t ask her what is wrong. Her body shoots around him so their backs are facing each other and then he hears it. The one piercing crack that is so familiar to him. His certainty of what the sound was is confirmed when more booms don’t follow. It’s not fireworks. Her body stumbles into his as he wrenches in her direction. She collapses in his arms.

It shocks her that she couldn’t really feel anything at first. The pressure on her shoulder reminds her of when she got her ears pierced. The bullet breaks through her skin like the puncture of a needle. The next thing she feels is nothing, probably because of the adrenaline going through her body. A crimson stain flowers on her shirt, resembling a rose. As it spreads, the numbness switches to a burn. She starts to think she is being felted into a small wool animal. The whip of another gunshot causes panic to grow in her. What if Drew was hurt? The voices around her start to blur together, becoming one big mush of noise to her. Her eyelids droop like an unsupported bridge, slinging between open and closed until she is kept in a state of unconsciousness. Is this how her mom felt that day, eleven years ago? Is this the day she gets to be reunited with her mother again?

———

Their environment should’ve been under constant scrutiny from him. He shouldn’t have let himself be distracted by her. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be in surgery right now. She wouldn’t have had to save him from that bullet. His hands and shirt are covered with her blood thanks to the disconnect of her right axillary artery. He doesn’t want to chance missing an update from the doctor if he gets cleaned up. The doctors are uncertain about her fate, but they are doing everything they can to help her. He wishes he could say the same about himself.

Drew is aware of his appearance because of the hush that comes over the room. Hospitals are already quiet, but this is different. The silence has a hollowness to it. “Where is my daughter?” Magnus roars as he storms toward Drew. Drew's hunched posture adjusts at the entrance of his boss. He rises to his feet, trying to hide his tears. “She’s in surgery,” he manages to croak out. Magnus’ heart tumbles into his belly, “What do you mean she is in surgery? What happened?” “W- She was having a picnic, sir,” he stutters out. “She was standing in front of me and then all of a sudden she saw something that caused her to put herself behind me. She took the bullet for me.” Magnus’ eyes narrow and his eyebrows form a v, “You were supposed to be her protector. That’s what I hired you for. So how come I’m finding out that my daughter is in a life-or-death situation because of you?”

“It’s my fault, sir. I was distracted and my guard was down. This is all my fault.”

“Of course, it is! I hope you know that you are fired immediately. You failed to keep my daughter safe. Now, tell me you at least caught the asshole, who hurt her.”

“I understand your decision, sir. And I managed to fire a shot to incapacity the assailant. He is in police custody.”

Magnus nods in satisfaction, “At least, you can do that right. Do you know who he is? Do you think he was hired by Demitri to hurt her?” “I do know, who he is. No, I don’t think Demitri hired him. I think he is connected to the note Y/N received a few months ago. I’ve identified him as Sean Cox. Y/N and he went on a few dates. She ended it after the third date and he said crass things to her,” Drew relays to Magnus. Magnus snaps his fingers and his own bodyguard rushes to his side. “I want you to find out everything you can about this Sean Cox guy. Now!” he orders, returning his anger back to Drew. “I want you out of her apartment by the end of the week. You are dismissed.”

———

The doctors were able to stabilize her in surgery and she’s been in a coma for a week. James has been updating Drew on her condition now that his co-worker is her full-time bodyguard. Per his contract with the company, he gets to take a full month off in between contracts that require him to live with the client and if the month is going to be anything like this week, Drew is going to fall apart. His insomnia keeps him awake to ruminate on the possible ways he could’ve saved her. And he keeps coming back to one conclusion. If he wasn’t smitten with her, then she would’ve been unharmed. Not only because he wouldn’t have been preoccupied by her vision, but because Sean wouldn’t have grown jealous enough to want to hurt Drew. His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

James’ name flashes across the screen and Drew scrabbles to pick it up. “Is she okay?” he worries through the phone. James stops him before he can rant, “She’s fine. She is awake. She actually woke up from the coma two hours ago. I haven’t called yet because I figured you didn’t want to come while Magnus was here. She’s been asking for you.” “She’s awake? I’ll be there soon,” he states, hanging up his phone and getting out of bed.

———

Drew greets James with his head as he walks through the doors of Y/N’s hospital room. He finds an exhausted-looking Y/N, lying in the bed. A smile paints across her face as soon as he sees her and he is pained by the notion as to why she is here. “Hi,” she rasps out. He joins her at her side, “Hey, how are you feeling?” “As good as you’d expect after being shot. The doctors say I should make a full recovery,” she retells. “I was thinking since my dad knows about us now, that once I’m discharged, we can go on a trip somewhere. Maybe Bali or Italy.” He wants nothing more than to agree. To tell her that he’ll go anywhere with her. Apart from the fact that he came here for another purpose. He doesn’t return her grin and she hunts for it. She yarns for him to return the excitement. “Drew, what’s wrong?” she interrogates, reaching out for a hand he can��t bring himself to give. He knows it will be too hard to let go of.

“Your dad fired me.”

“I know. I’m not dating you because you work for my dad. I’m dating you because I love you.”

“I was fired because I couldn’t protect you.”

“Drew, it wasn’t your fault. Sean was the one with the gun. He was the one who fired it.”

The chair scrapes against the floor and Drew rushes to the window. His hands slamming against the sill startles her. “You don’t get it,” he yells. “I can’t be with you. You almost died because of me!” Y/N wants to rush to his side, except the stabbing pain in her shoulder stops her. Drew hears her wince and hurries to her side. “What are you saying, Drew? Are you breaking up with me?” she cries, tears pooling in her eyes. He steps away from her, back facing her. He can’t do what he needs to do if she is looking at him. “Yes.” No more words can escape his mouth; he needs to keep his composure.

“But my heart is yours,” she sobs, trying to hold his hand. Drew needs to get away from her, “Well, you can have it back. I don’t want it anymore.” He hates being cruel, yet it’s the only way this will go faster. “Drew, please. It’s not your fault. Please,” she argues.

Drew doesn’t have anything left to say and he doesn’t want to force her to be in his presence anymore, so he leaves her behind even though it kills him. It kills him to listen to her weep and not do anything about it. He craves to bring her into his hold and kiss her tears away. She may not believe this is all his fault but it is. It was his flaw that sent her to the hospital. His fatal flaw was thinking he was the only protector she needed. It was his hubris.

Taglist: @loves0phelia, @f4ll-for-you, @mellillasstuff, @jjsmarijuana

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fic #bodyguard!drew #bodyguard!drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n

677 notes · View notes

mcondance · 9 months

Note

maannnn i love a good/shy girl and bad boy trope but that could just be my corruption kink talking…like you can’t tell me fontaine wouldn’t be absolutely obsessed

fontaine would be absolutely obsessed.

he first spots you hanging around with yo-yo, this after they all moved down to memphis, and he’s hooked. you heard about what they did back in the glen and though you’re amazed, you’re also kinda scared cause. . this nigga used to be a drug dealer and he still got them aggressive nigga tendencies 😭😭

so one day bout a week or two after he sees you he tells yo-yo and charles that he wanna get to know you. yo-yo’s face immediately scrunches up.

“her? nah, taine.”

“what you mean nah?”

“she kinda. . you kinda rough around the edges, nigga. you might scare her. she come from a good family. ion want her involved in our shit.” yo-yo laughs, shrugging fontaine’s interest in you off. she thinks her words will turn fontaine off.

but charles smiles from across the room at fontaine as yo-yo goes back to studying, cause slick knows fontaine ain’t giving up.

and he doesn’t. yo-yo should have known better than to invite you over and then not be there when you get to the house. when charles sees you outside he disappears into his room, tells fontaine “taine! that girl you was presssin’ yo-yo bout out there!”

fontaine immediately sets his blunt down and checks his face in the mirror, fixes his chain so it hangs just right and makes his way to the living room to open the door and welcome you in.

“yo-yo ain’ here right now,” he calls over his shoulder, and you peep the gold grills sittin' pretty between his even prettier lips. he plops down on the couch, spreads his legs in a way that has you wondering just when yo-yo was gon tell you about her fine ass friend.

“that’s fine. i’ll jus’ wait out here.”

“aight. you smoke?”

“yeah.”

“stay right here.”

you watch him walk away, watch his thighs in his lil hoochie daddy shorts, watch his walk that draws you in just a little more than already are, watch him gaze back at you one more time before he disappears into his room, something you definitely did not hallucinate.

tearing your eyes away from the space that he occupied before he made his way into his room, you sink back into the couch and take a breath. you cannot be doing this shit. that’s yo-yo’s homeboy. her fine ass, pretty ass homeboy, who offered you a blunt within 30 seconds of knowing you, who’s dick is definitely big, who yo-yo will just have to understand that you want, who’s coming back out of his room with the blunt and handing it to you to puff first.

fontaine sits closer this time, and chills settle all over your body. even with the weed spreading through you, you’re still a little nervous. shy, even, cause you can feel his eyes roaming your body, glued to the exposed skin of your thighs and the gloss on your lips, your hair and your bracelets— you can feel his eyes on you.

“how long you known yo-yo?” fontaine speaks first, passing you the blunt back.

“‘bout a week after y’all came down here. we met a’work.”

“mhm. you seen what we did?”

“yeah. shit was cool as fuck. y’all doin’ that here?”

“maybe. we think we found som’thin like back in the glen. we’on’t know yet.”

“yo-yo told me how y’all saved her, she said you was ready to fuck them up when she got snatched.” you laugh, eyes damn-near big red hearts as you gaze with heavy eyes at fontaine.

“i was. i care ‘bout her,” he shrugs, handing the blunt back to you.

“‘s sweet.” your tongue is heavy now, and fontaine’s a little close, and you know you shouldn’t want to kiss a man like fontaine but you really do want to.

shit.

the blunt’s halfway between your hand and fontaine’s when yo-yo busts through the door yelling “fontaine, nigga i swear to god you better not be in here tryna seduce my girl.” her eyes settle on you, and fontaine, and the blunt, and the smoke in the air and— “goddamnit motherfucker, i told you leave her alone.”

“ian doin’ shit yo-yo. jus’ talking.” he smiles snarkily, golds sparkling, cause everybody in the damn house knows he’s not just talking.

“she right fontaine,” you speak up, though in the front of your mind you wanna give him a chance. but he’s. . different. and you’re nervous. you don’t know if you can fit in with him.

fontaine’s silent. two sets of eyes fall on him.

“‘s whatever.” fontaine gets up, says goodbye and then he’s disappearing into his room.

“you knew fontaine wanted me?”

“yeah. but, you know, that’s fontaine. and you’re you. ion know if you can keep up with him.”

you leave it at that. it’s whatever.

xxx

. . well, it’s not whatever. cause why the fuck is fontaine’s mint green pontiac pulling up beside you on your walk home from work.

“what a gentleman,” you joke.

“had to make up for stormin’ off las’ week. i got you some shit.”

“you’on have to make nothin’ up. yo-yo right. we different.”

“and what that mean? that we can’t get to know each other?”

“gon’ on fontaine. you know what yo-yo said.”

“fuck what yo-yo said.”

you’re silent. thinking. contemplating. do you really wanna fuck with this nigga? you don’t know.

“whatever.” you scoff, though you don’t speed up and you don’t want him to drive off.

“jus’ lemme take you home.” you raise your eyebrows and tilt your head at the implications of his words. “your home.” he clarifies, and all it takes is a sigh and a “home. and that’s it.” from you and he’s hopping out of his car opening the door for you.

the ride to your house is fun. between fontaine’s goated ass playlist and the not-so-small talk y’all make, it’s a dream. fontaine’s not that bad at all. he’s a big-ass softie, but he will fuck someone up if they fuck with something he love.

and you’re not that shy when you’re comfortable, not all nervous when you don’t feel you have a reason to be.

when fontaine drops you off at your house, the air in his car hangs heavy with the unanswered question.

“lemme think about it ‘taine.” you speak before he does.

“okay. i think you cool for real. hope you gimme a chance.” he grabs the bag of snacks he bought you and hops out of the car and walks around the front, opens the door for you and walks you to your front door.

“thank you for the ride fontaine,” you smile at him. you don’t know why, but you grip his face and lean forward, and he’s meeting you in the middle and shit, you’re kissing him and he’s kissing you and your bags of snacks is on the ground, and fuck what yo-yo says cause goddamn his lips feel good on yours.

you both pull away. it’s quiet.

“imma take that as a yes.”

xxx

“thought you was shy.”

you wish you could hit this nigga in his mouth, but you’re currently between his legs with his dick down your throat, swallowing and gagging and looking up at him with teary eyes, your makeup running down your face.

“you ain’t fuckin’ shy. you nasty.”

you are. you’re nasty when you let him cum down your throat, and you’re nasty when you grind on his face, huffing out breathless laughs at the way he eats you out like he needs your taste to fucking breathe.

“taste so fuckin’ good, got a nigga goin’ crazy.”

you’re nasty when you turn around and prop yourself up on your hands and knees, slurring fontaine’s name while he digs so deep in your guts you see fucking stars.

“tried to hold out on me, give me all that shy shit, but you fuckin’ me like this now. i wan’t even tryna hear allat.”

and you are fucking him, good at that.

“knew from the second i seen yo ass. .” he trails off, too focused on watching where you hold yourself on display for his hungry eyes, on where he disappears into you, on the white ring that appears on his dick every time he pulls out just to sink right back in. you don’t speak, too caught up in how good he feels and how he makes you feel secure enough to take what you want.

and you are nasty. it’s only been a week since he drove you home.

xxx

y’all don’t tell yo-yo nor charles, but when yo-yo gets home and you and fontaine are a draped over each other on the couch and charles just smiles when she asks if anything happened, she knows. ain’t shit she can do, though, but shoot fontaine a death stare, one that tells him not to fuck you up. he nods, and she can tell he’s sincere.

#₊˚. ☆ yours truly 💌:#😇#fontaine x reader #fontaine x black reader #fontaine smut

576 notes · View notes

goldenbuckyyy · 1 year

Text

IT’LL BE OKAY

Summary: After your Halloween hookup with Eddie Munson, it never really ended from there. Now it’s Valentine’s Day.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), oral (f!&m! receiving), vaginal fingering, raw sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cream pie, making out, dry humping, some angst, crying.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had been wanting to write some Eddie for a while now and a lot of people loved part 1! So, decided to write another part to it! I had originally wanted to post it on Feb. 14, but as always.. life and work happens!! So, hopefully you all enjoy. 🥹 I’m tagging whoever asked to be tagging in the first part! Song title inspo: “It’ll be okay” by Shawn Mendes.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Part 1 | Main Masterlist

Eddie usually hated Valentine’s Day.

He hated the whole pink and red hearts vibes, the way the word “love” was splattered on every open surface, and the way he would see couples left and right.

He had never celebrated Valentine’s Day with someone. Not in his eighteen years of life.

He doesn’t think he’s ever even had sex on Valentine’s Day either.

Maybe that’s why he hates it so much.

But, man… you love Valentine’s Day.

You never specifically said it out loud, but he knew you loved it.

You loved pink hearts and your clothing sure showed it. You had cardigans with hearts all over them, you had a bag in a heart shape, you’d draw hearts all over him and his tattoos when you guys would lay down naked in bed, and he loved the way you looked lately as you walked down the decorated halls of Hawkins High School.

He loved seeing your wide smile as you admired all the decorations, the way you’d reach out to touch them with your fingertips with your bright red painted nails, and he especially loved the way he noticed your cheeks blush when someone would ask you who you were going to spend your Valentine’s Day with.

You’d blow off the question with a laugh and a shrug knowing damn well you had already said no to over a million of guys who had asked you out.

And when your friends weren’t looking, your eyes would slowly travel to where Eddie was. Where he always was. Leaning against his lockers that were across from you, he was surrounded by his friends, and your eyes would lock with his.

You’d blush every single time you noticed that he was already looking at you. You’d get flustered and proceed to look away with a shy smile on your lips.

Eddie wondered how you were the same girl he fucked recklessly in that bathroom at Kassidy Norway’s house that Halloween night.

That night lived in Eddie’s thoughts for ages. Shit, it still does most nights.

Nowadays, Eddie had wayyyy more images than he ever thought he’d ever get a chance to see. He was a lucky, very lucky, man.

He’s seen every inch of you. He knows every inch of you.

He’s also seen you bent down against a wall in the back of the old movie theater. An image of your skirt bundle up over your ass and your panties shoved to the side flash in his thoughts.

He’s seen you down on your knees, peebles scraping the skin around them, because you couldn’t wait to get into the car to get him in your mouth. The way you moaned as he fucked your mouth with his cock and the way you shoved your fingers inside your panties to touch yourself.

He’s seen you spread out in the back of his van, naked as the day you were born, and completely blissful. The way you’d lay out after he’d fuck you would send him chills. He’d fuck you anyway you liked it. Anything you asked of him, he’d do.

He’s seen you bouncing on his thighs, sitting on his face, riding his fingers, legs behind your head, back arched with your ass up, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s sporting a semi right now as he thinks about all of this.

Eddie smiles once you wave bye to your friends and that’s his cue to do the same. He tells the guys he’ll see them later and he strolls towards you.

You spot him walking towards you and you smile lazily.

The same smile you wore last night when he dropped you off at your house after some mind blowing sex and some deep talk at his trailer. And maybe a little dancing in your underwear on his bed as he played his guitar.

He always had fun when he was with you.

“Hi,” you say with a hip tilt and batting your eyelashes. Your fingertips reach toward his face to push his curls behind his ears.

“You don’t gotta do all that for me, sweetheart. You already got me wrapped around this,” he grips your hand in his and bites your index finger with a smirk, “little finger.”

You roll your eyes as he reaches for your bag and proceeds to hold your stuff while he walks you to class.

Eddie indulges you on whatever topic of the day, giving his input when needed, and then you’re outside of your home room.

You smile as Eddie hands you your bag and you both look at each other sheepishly.

It’s always like this between you guys. Shy smiles and teasing grins at school, but completely different in private. Eddie loved it. He loved seeing you squirm in school because of his attention on you and then seeing the complete vixen that you truly are.

“See you in the last block?” You question curiously, letting your fingers intertwine with his, not really caring who sees. You always said it wasn’t anybody’s damn business.

Eddie kisses your cheek delicately, “I’m skipping.”

“Eddie,” you scold as your eyes widen, but Eddie’s already jogging away from you with a smile on his face.

“You won’t be scolding me tomorrow!” He yells at you and he doesn’t miss the way you break out into a big smile. His favorite smile.

At 7:30 am the next morning, right as you're walking out your front door to walk to school, you are standing on your porch when you see Eddie standing there with a big grin on his face.

Your face immediately breaks out into a grin, “Eddie? What are you doing here?” Your eyes darting all over his body to simultaneously check him out and wondering why he has his hands behind his back.

He’s grinning so hard that his dimples are showing and he looks so handsome. He’s in his regular attire, but you love it. He’s wearing his black jeans with his dangling chains, white chucks, his DnD long sleeve underneath his jean jacket, and his curly hair is messy. Curls framing his adorable face with his cut bangs covering his forehead. You want to run your hands through them.

You walk up to him and place a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I got you something,” Eddie says with a whisper and slight hint of mischief behind his tone. You raise an eyebrow, following his arms as he untucks them from behind himself, and you gasp when he pulls out what he’s hiding.

Eddie watches you as your eyes swell up with adornment and you sigh so lovely that it’s almost sickening the way his heart flutters at your expression.

He holds onto the fluffy pink teddy bear he had gotten you that has a big heart in the center of it with the words, “Kiss me” splattered in the center.

He holds it out for you as your expression goes from surprised to amusement to completely grateful in the span of fifteen seconds. You reach for it and squeeze it into your chest.

“You shouldn’t have,” you quickly say with a breathless smile and Eddie swears he sees tears in your eyes.

Eddie pulls you into his arms, wrapping his around your torso as the bear gets squished between you guys, and he leans down to kiss your sweet tasting lips.

He kisses you easily and softly. Almost like it’s second nature to him already. His warm hands grip the sides of your cheeks as your lips move against his in a rhythm that feels natural.

It’s almost unfair how soft and sweet your lips feel against Eddie’s. Eddie almost wants to come undone right here on your front steps.

Your free arm, the one not holding your brand new and favorite teddy bear, wraps around Eddie’s shoulders with ease and you pull against his back to move closer into you.

He chuckles into your mouth and you can feel him smiling which causes you to smile and to slowly pull away, but before you do you give him a million pecks on his lips as you both giggle childishly.

“You’re sweet on me,” you whisper into his lips as you slowly shove away some of his loose curls that tickle your cheeks.

“Always am, sugar.”

In your last class, which surprisingly was the only class you had with Eddie, you were already anxiously waiting for the school day to end. You had already been wanting to give Eddie his gift and you were in your headspace about it when you heard multiple people calling out your name.

You snap out of your thoughts and immediately sit up straight when Mrs. Johnson is walking over to you with a big bundle of red roses in a glass vase.

Your mouth parts open in shock as she hands you the vase and you set it down on your desk. You can feel yourself blushing as the girls around you are giggling and asking who sent you the roses.

“They’re beautiful, honey. You are a lucky lady,” Mrs. Johnson says with her sweet smile and honey voice. You whisper a quick thank you as you easily look over your shoulder at Eddie who’s sitting in the back row.

He’s staring right at you with a smirk on his face which causes you to break out into a cheeky smile.

You inhale the sweet scent of the beautiful roses in front of you and sigh in contentment. How did you get this lucky? And who would have thought that Eddie Munson was a secret romantic?

“Thank you for my roses,” you pant out above Eddie as your arms wrap around his shoulders and your hands go into his curls. Eddie moans as he starts kissing your neck, running his hands up your naked thighs and underneath your pink skirt, and when he reaches your core, he groans with his head tilting back to meet your eyes.

You smile as you pull his lips to yours once more, “I forgot to put them back.” You whisper teasingly into his mouth.

Eddie almost cums at your words as he moves his fingers to your pussy, which is already soaked, and he loves that you do stuff like this. Always doing something that shocks him. He fucking loves you.

Wait..

Does he love you?

Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you.

He thinks he wants to tell you that tonight. Maybe make whatever this is between you two official.

He slips one of his fingers into your warm heat and you whimper as you feel your walls tightening around his digit. Your nails dig into the skin behind his neck and you start grinding your hips against his own. You feel how hard he is underneath his jeans and you can almost feel him throbbing.

Eddie grips your neck with his free hand, kissing you roughly as he slips in another finger, curling both of them in you to hit your spot, and the feeling of him stretching you out makes shives run down your back.

Eddie moves his thumb to your clit and starts moving his fingers together, trying to get you to your peak, “Fuck me, sweetheart. You’re absolutely dripping.”

You lick his lips to taste him, “All for you.”

After a heated almost sex almost orgasm make out sesh in Eddie’s van, you had told him to come back around nine pm once you knew your parents were asleep in bed and thankfully they were both deep sleepers.

You told him to go through the window and now here you are.

Waiting for him in only your babydoll pink outfit.

It shouldn’t even be considered an outfit by how it was basically mesh and didn’t leave anything to the imagination.

But you knew Eddie was going to go feral over it. He’s seen you naked plenty of times, but never in anything like this.

The lingerie was baby pink in color with matching underwear. The little dress fanned out on your waist which you loved. And you looked at yourself in the mirror once more.. just to admire the cute outfit before Eddie ripped it off of you.

You hear a soft knock on your window which causes your heart to race immediately and you rush to open it. The cold Indiana air rushing over your skin and making goosebumps arise all over you.

You stand back as Eddie makes his way into your room. You quickly settle into the bed, crossing your legs, and leaning back to make your body look appetizing and wanting for him. You adjust your hair to fall over your shoulders and you hope you look as good as you feel right now.

Eddie is adjusting his jacket over your empty chair and ruffling his hair as he looks over at you for the first time and he stops in his tracks.

His lips part open, baby brown eyes going wide, and he puts his hand on his chest dramatically. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, baby?”

You giggle, “Maybe.” You hook your toe into one of his belt loops and pull him into you as best as you can. His cold hands touch your burning thighs and it feels amazing.

“You look breathtaking,” your lover says as he cups your face in his hands and leans down to kiss your lips.

Eddie crushes his own lips against yours, moaning at the taste of your sweet chapstick, and how you always seem to reciprocate to him in the best way.

He loves the way your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and the way you lean back to spread your legs wide open for his own hips to mold into yours.

Eddie pulls away slowly, your arms unlinking from behind his neck, and falling down to your sides as you watch him watching you.

His eyes take in your flushed cheeks, to your already swollen lips, the straps of your lingerie are falling down your shoulders, and it makes Eddie want to groan.

He looks at your perky breasts covered in the mesh and your pretty nipples are pointy. He rubs his thumbs on both of them over the lingerie and you gasp as the sudden contact. Your thighs rub together as he thumbs your nipples in between his fingers.

“You’re a fucking dream,” Eddie whispers as he licks his lips while he moves his hands down your full breasts and to the opening of the lingerie. He lets his hands go under the opening and holds onto the curve of your waist.

“A fucking dream,” he mutters again as he moves his hands down to your matching mesh underwear and he slips his hands underneath the sides.

Then, Eddie slips down to his knees and he’s pulling your underwear down with him.

You feel the cold air hit your already soaked area and you whimper as Eddie removes your underwear from your legs. He starts kissing you from your ankles to your inner thighs and that’s where he starts leaving small bites of kisses all over you.

You adjust yourself onto the edge of your bed, soft goosebumps covering your body as you wait in anticipation for Eddie to touch you, to do anything to you, and you close your eyes when you feel his warm breath against your pussy.

You feel his fingers slowly start to spread you open and you feel his tongue flick your opening slightly.

You gasp in pleasure, your belly tightening in want, and your breathing is rising as Eddie licks a strip from your aching hole to your pulsating clit.

And Eddie feels obsessed with you. He’s obsessed with your pretty legs, your pretty thighs, and your fucking pretty pussy.

He’s obsessed with the way your body responds to his touches. The way he can spend hours kissing and marking your thighs. And how he loves the way you respond to the way he eats you out.

He buries his face into your pussy as he starts eating you out as a starved man. He licks your folds, his fingers moving to open you up, and then proceeds to lick your aching hole once again.

A tingling sensation runs through your spine which causes your back to curve upwards into the air, a pleasurable moan escaping from the back of your throat, and one of Eddie’s strong hands holds you down by your hip.

He moves his lips towards your clip, sucking and licking it, and simultaneously inserts one of his fingers into your hole. You gasp as you grind your hips into him.

Eddie moans into your pussy, sending vibrations into your core, and he starts to move his finger into you. Slowly opening you up. “Fuck, almost so fucking tight for me. All for me, right baby?” Eddie rushes out as he lays his tongue flat against your pussy, letting your juices coat his mouth and his chin, and when you look down to meet his eyes… he smiles so hard, his dimples show.

“You’re a dream, baby.”

Eddie continues to maintain eye contact with you as he sucks in all your juices. He pulls away, licking his lips messily, and watching your pussy clenching down his finger. He inserts another, your soaking walls clenching down again as you feel his other finger inside of you, and you grip onto the sheets underneath your body.

Eddie starts panting a little as he watches you squirming underneath him, spread out in all your glory for him. Just for him.

He watches the way you grind your hips into his fingers, the way your pussy soaks his fingers, and the way you confidently touch your body with your hands. Twisting your nipples in between your fingers and biting your bottom lip in want.

The knot in the bottom of your belly is getting tighter as pleasure is seeping out of your pores.

“E-Eddie,” you moan out as you reach down to wrap your hands into his curls and before he can say anything, you shove his head back down to your aching pussy. Needing him to finish you off.

You hear Eddie chuckle as you shove him down and then he continues to eat you out, just the way you like it. His free hand moving underneath your hips and squeezing your ass in his hold.

Eddie continues to pump his fingers inside of you, curling them in your walls, and sucking on your clit which makes your toes curl in anticipation. Your hands tighten around his curls, tugging generously, and he never stops.

“Oh,” you moan out, back arching a little bit to move your center to the perfect angle that will help you achieve your orgasm, and Eddie only goes faster and harder. The knot in your belly starts to tighten and you feel almost over the edge.

“Eddie, Eddie, E-Eddie,” you continue to moan out his name as you clench your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm take over your entire body. His fingers pump inside of you, his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit, and you bite onto your forearm to try and conceal your screams.

Your toes curl against your bed as your orgasm washes completely over you as Eddie licks up all your juices until you're shaking and laying down limp on your bed. He removes his fingers from your sore pussy and you look down at him with a lazy smile, he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a moan.

“You taste so sweet,” he whispers as he leans over to you and kisses you, open mouthed, and lazily with tongue. You taste yourself as you kiss him, both moaning together, and you bite his bottom lip.

You moan as you wrap your arms around him, “I need you.”

Eddie whimpers at your words and pulls away from you. He quickly starts to strip out of his clothes as you giggle. You sit on your calves as you both watch each other. He stumbles out of his boots, trying not to fall, and shoves off his jeans.

You slowly pull off your babydoll outfit and toss it to the floor, watching Eddie as he yanks off his shirt, and you lean back on your elbows.

Eddie slows down as he watches you spread out for him and he bites his bottom lip. He shoves down his boxers and his red-tipping, almost aching thick cock bounces up and down. He palms himself as he watches you, “Ready for me?”

“Always am,” you whisper into the quiet room as you do grabby hands for him as his big, lean body towers over you.

He slips his hand behind your back and one behind your head as your lips move messily against his own. He moves his hips against yours which causes his pulsating cock to move in between your folds and he allows himself to rub against your swollen clit. It sends bolts of electricity all over your body as you had just orgasmed.

You both moan into each other’s mouth at the sensation, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer into you, and you spread your legs wider to allow him easier access. He pulls away from your mouth, kissing your neck with small licks, and sucks a little bit near your collarbone.

“You want me?” He whispers into your ear as he sucks on your earlobe. Chills run down your spine as a memory fills your brain when he asked you the same thing a couple months ago on Halloween night.

You follow the same movements you did that night, pulling his face towards you as you cup his chin, eyes locking together, and you nod as you reach down to grip onto his length. Eddie lets out a shaky breath as he feels your warm hand wrap around him and you can feel him twitching in your hold.

You thumb the tip of his cock, coating it with his pre-cum, and you rub him in between your folds. Eddie feels the same way he felt that night when he first had you underneath him. He’s aching for you, like he always does. He still feels like he’s going to explode just by being above you.

You rub his throbbing cock along your soaking pussy and center him with your opening, “Take me.”

Eddie almost cums at your words as he kisses you again. He feels your opening against his cock and he pushes into your tight, warm, fucking delicious pussy.

You both whimper together as he pushes into your tight hole, bottoming out, and feeling you stretching around him. It burns slightly, but it feels blissful. Never truly accommodating to his size and it always feels just as amazing. The stretch you feel when he enters you almost feels unexplainable. Every. Single. Time.

Your limbs mesh together in sync, legs intertwined together, and hands touching everywhere they possibly can. You’re kissing each other with open mouths, tongue playing against each other, and then Eddie starts to move. His hands gripping your breasts roughly, twisting your nipples in between his fingers, and moving his mouth to suck bruises into each one of them.

His thrust are slow and tender as he slowly moves in and out of you. His rhythm going easy and taking his time as he fully feels you around his cock, your pussy clenching around him, and your nails raking down his back.

“Always so wet for me, huh princess?”

“Always,” you whimper out as he starts to increase his speed above you. Your lover's hands move down to caress your belly and then he settles them onto your waist, holding down tightly as he tilts his own hips higher as he thrusts inside of you.

You moan out loudly when you feel him hit the area that sends you the most pleasure, your mouth hanging open with your whines, and Eddie moves one of your legs up to your chest which causes his cock to enter into you at a different angle.

You grip onto Eddie’s arms as he starts thrusting into you at a rapid, almost animalistic, speed. The wet sounds of his cock entering you fill your bedroom sweetly and you lean down to kiss his collarbone. The sweet smell of sex slowly filling your bedroom and you look up to admire Eddie’s.

Eddie’s skin is flushed from his cheeks to his chest, tinted pink and beautiful, and you run your tongue on his neck as you reach his soft spot. You let yourself kiss and suck for a second, making sure you linger enough to mark him up. Just the way he likes it.

“Fuckk,” Eddie whimpers out, “You always feel like fucking heaven. Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. M-Made just for me.”

You twist your hips a little bit as you move your leg from your chest to rest above Eddie’s shoulder, tugging him by his arms lower into you, and you both gasp as you feel him fall deeper inside of you. Your pussy clenching around his cock trying to suction him in more.

Eddie chokes on a moan as you squeeze your walls to grip onto his cock, knowing he loves when you do that, and he moves his hand in between your bodies.

His fingers ghost over your pussy and he kisses your lips, open mouth kisses with his tongue tasting you, “Fuck, baby. I’m not even touching you yet and my fingers can feel your hot pussy aching for me.”

You whimper as you tilt forward to catch his lips again while he moves his finger over your swollen clit and you cry out from the instant pleasure you feel.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, clenching his eyes shut for a second, and he laughs. “I’m trying not to cum so hard right now.”

“I’m close,” you whisper as you feel the aching feeling starting up at the pit of your belly once more and Eddie breaks out into a smile.

“Thank fuck ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can hold it,” Eddie says as he kisses your lips while he continues to move his finger against your clit. You feel the familiar sensation start to creep up in your toes, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, and you start moving your hips against his to cause greater friction between you two.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Are you ready to cum with me?”

You nod frantically as your fingernails start to dig into Eddie’s shoulder blades as his free hand grips onto the plush of your hip.

“Eddie,” you cry, “Fuck! Right there! Don’t stop! I’m about to—“

“Cum for me,” Eddie cuts you off with a demand.

You gasp out at his demand and you quickly grab his face with both of your hands, your fingers caress his cheeks and his lips, and you both stare into each other in a breathless mess.

“Together,” you whisper as you both keep moving together in sync.

And then it happens.

You choke on your moans as you feel your body explode with pleasure as your stomach tightens and your toes curl into your mattress. Your ears start ringing in white noise as you clench your walls around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie swears he’s fucking a goddess right now because there’s no other explanation for the absolute dream that’s underneath him right now.

Eddie watches you come undone under him and it completely triggers his own orgasm. Your tight walls clench around his throbbing cock and he lets himself release into your heavenly pussy.

Eddie starts to thrust into you harder and faster as his cum fills your walls. You pull on his cheeks to make your lips meet his in the middle and you both are trying to find your breath through the kiss.

Eddie rests his forehead against yours, softly pulling his lips away from yours, and he admires you as you smile blissfully up at him. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glossy, hair a mess, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone more beautiful.

But he’s always felt that way about you.

He holds your ankle on his shoulder as he slowly pulls out of your cum filled pussy and you both hiss at the emptiness.

Eddie reaches over to your bedside table and gets a couple tissues. He spends the next couple of minutes cleaning you up, slowly to not hurt your sore pussy, and it almost makes you ache for him all over again.

Once he’s done cleaning you and himself, he relaxes next you and you pull the covers over your bodies.

You smile sweetly at him, your heart rate finally slowing down, and you stretch for a second to twist and look at him.

You admire him from his long, curly hair to his long dark eyelashes that coat his beautiful chocolate brown eyes to his pouty red, kissed out lips and when he catches you starting, he breaks out into a smile.

You reach out to put your index finger in his dimple and he blushes under your touch. Eddie turns his body to also face you

“So, babydoll.. who was your first?” Eddie asks nonchalantly as he twirls his fingers through your hair.

Your eyes immediately go wide with shock at his question and you burst out into fits of giggles. You tug your covers over your naked chest, twisting to look at him, and you settle on your side.

You can’t stop giggling as he joins in with you.

“You can’t ask me that, Eddie!”

“‘Course I can, baby. I’m in your bed naked after we just had mind blowing sex. I think I can ask you anything I want,” he teases with a sly smile that shows his white teeth.

“You can’t get mad, okay?”

Eddie’s eyes light up with interest as he proceeds to push himself up on his elbows, “I’m listening.”

He watches you as you bite your bottom lip, your flushed out face and neck is calming down, and your hair is laid out messily all over you.

But Eddie still thinks you're the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

That’s why when you say the name of the lucky bastard that you gave your virginity to.. Eddie lets out a choked gasp intertwined with a barking laugh.

His eyes go wide as he watches you, “Did you just say Steve fucking Harrington?!”

You cover your face with your hands as you smile widely behind them and Eddie can’t help but laugh so loudly that he’s clutching his belly.

“Don’t laugh at me!! It was back in freshman year when we were dating, but it was very short lived and we moved past it.”

You giggle with Eddie as you both clumsily sit down on the bed, facing each other, and then you suddenly see a look come across Eddie’s face that halts your laughter.

His laughing dies down, his eyes downcast, and he’s frowning for a second. He quickly shakes his head from his thoughts and ruffles his hair to distract himself.

“Hey, Eddie. What’s wrong?” You ask as you reach for his hand to hold in your own, your eyebrows furr down in confusion at his sudden change of mood.

Eddie bites his bottom lip in thought before he moves his beautiful big puppy brown eyes to meet yours.

“It’s just.. I’m not mad that you lost your virginity to Steve Harrington. I’m sure he was a good fuck or what-shit, ignore that! It’s just—fuck,” he blubbers rapidly and you squeeze his hand for him to continue as he sighs loudly, “it’s just.. Steve Harrington.. is Steve Harrington. He’s the popular guy. The handsome guy with the nice hair and cool car.”

You tilt your head when Eddie watches you with expecting eyes as if you’re supposed to understand what he means, but you don’t get it. What’s so good about Steve?

Not that there’s anything wrong with him. But you’re confused.

“I don’t get it?” You say with confusion and a slight pout.

Eddie looks down, rubbing his thumb on your hand, he says, “Steve is Steve and I’m.. well… I’m just me?”

His voice sounds small and suddenly you feel your heart tighten in your chest.

“Oh,” you let out a shocked little sigh as you see a side of Eddie that he’s never shown you before.

A side where he feels inferior to Steve Harrington and he’s showing how he’s insecure about it.

“It’s just.. I’m just Eddie the weirdo that lives in a beat up trailer park with his uncle and I sell drugs for a living.”

“Eddie,” you whisper as you try to reach for his face, but he pulls away. He’s suddenly shut himself down completely.

He almost looks upset.

“I’m nothing, god… I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize this.”

Eddie is suddenly shaking his head and jumping out of your bed. You sit up in the bed, holding your sheets to your body, and Eddie is tugging on his clothes.

“Jesus Christ,” he says with an exacerbated laugh and another shake of his head.

“Eddie, please stop. I’m so confused, what’s going on?” You try to beg him as he simultaneously shoves on his boots and you shove off the sheets.

You stand up, naked and without a care, and you stand in front of him as he adjusts his jean jacket over his shoulders. You put your hands on his shoulders to stop him and he curls into himself almost as he’s ashamed.

He tries to avoid your eyes as you look up to him in confusion, your heart is racing, and you don’t know what’s happening.

He finally looks down at you, his sad eyes taking in every inch of you, and he looks suddenly miserable.

His fingertips slowly touch the curve of your waist and he quickly pulls his hands away as if your skin burned him.

He slowly reaches down to your lips and kisses you slowly. You try to kiss him back, but he pulls away swiftly.

“I’m nothing,” he says again with shame.

“Eddie, you’re not—“

“I am,” he cuts you off. “And you’re.. god, you’re everything. You’re smart, funny, so fucking caring, and beautiful. You’re so gorgeous that it's honestly insane,” he chuckles as he meets your worried eyes, “You’re everything and you deserve better than me.”

“Eddie, stop. You don’t—“

“I do,” he cuts you off again. “This was never going to work. We aren’t even really together. We’ve just been messing around for months, but we all know where this is going. You’re going to New York or LA to follow your dreams and I’m staying here. You’re going to become someone and I’ll always be a nobody. You don’t need me dragging you down.”

Tears instantly fill your waterline, “Eddie, what are you talking about?” You beg him as your voice shakes and your lips quiver.

He shuts his eyes for a moment as if the mere sight of you hurts him.

“Don’t waste your tears on me, doll. I’m not worth it. You’re leaving in a couple months, so might as well end this before we get too into our heads.”

He gets the blanket off your bed and quickly covers your body with it before he walks over to your window.

You watch him, not knowing what to say, and you’re frowning deeply with tears staining your cheeks. What the hell is going on?

He looks at you as he raises the window up, letting in the wind, “It’s easier like this, doll. Trust me.” He tries to smile, but his lips waver.

You rush to him, gripping onto his hand that’s holding him steady as he eases himself out the window and onto the roof, “Don’t do this to me, Eddie Munson. Why are you doing this? Please.”

He almost hesitates, but then he only tugs his hand away from your hold and you let out a whimper.

“Sorry, doll. Guess you were just into this more than me.”

He quickly rushes out the window, slamming it shut, and leaves you there with a shocked open mouth and a gasping breath.

You cover your face as you scramble to sit on your bed. You hold the blanket over your naked body as you cry over what he said to you.

Had you been more into this than him?

Did he never really feel the same way you did? Why was it so easy for him to just end whatever this was?

You grip onto the blanket as you quick step towards your window, looking at the overview you have of the street, and right under the tall street lamp is Eddie.

Standing underneath the light, smoking a cigarette, kicking his feet on the ground, and then proceeds to get into his van.

You watch every movement that he does, begging that he looks up at you, but he doesn’t. He just drives away.

You wonder if he can hear your heart breaking.

Eddie drives away in his van and his stereo is off.

Eddie’s stereo is never off. It’s always the first thing he does when he gets in his van. He always turns it on and shuffles through millions of cassette tapes he has and goes through them until he picks the perfect one.

But right now, he doesn’t want to hear anything. He wants to be alone with his thoughts.

His stupid fucking thoughts. His stupid insecurities. The stupid ones that made him fuck off from you and ruin everything he had with you.

Eddie slams the steering wheel with his palm as he rubs his eyes with his free one. He’s beyond frustrated with himself and is cursing at everything he sees.

He’s such a fucking idiot.

But he knows he’s right about one thing.

You’re everything and he’s nothing.

How could something like that possibly work?

He scoffs as he feels a small tear run down his cheek, he grips the steering wheel even harder, and yells loudly. Trying to silence the thoughts in his brain.

He knows it will never work.

Now he just has to stay away from you and once school is over, he’ll never see you again.

Taglist: @theshabbygiftofdisillusion @duuhrayliegh @munsonficdump @lelifesaver @avalon-wolf @mcumorningstar @likeficsinthewnd @frootvelvet @optimisticallygarbage @lokis-army-77 @hes-a-rainbow @freakhellfire @roanniom @sunnysaid @freeshavocadoooo @see-were-laughing @lovelyholland02 @ilikechocolatemilkh @buckmepapi @adequate-superstar @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @sydneylaufeyson22 @quixscentsposts @aphr0d1teh @secretdryrose @ooo-protean-ooo @hereforshmut @eddiemunsonthoughts @m1lfptrl @sweetcrechy @alana4610 @tjbabe33 @hesvoid34 @daydreamerblues @bookshelf-dust @bitxhbeforreal @ihatepeanutss @1weirdbitch @lagataprrr @spread-the-hope @aimeephobic @slutfor-keery-quinn @boomhauer @catherinnn

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson smut imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things s4

2K notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 4 months

Note

hey love!! i was thinking about number 53 with childhood bestfriend!Leon ??

also i loveeeee your writing omg you are sooo talented !!! <3 xoxo

Hey boo!! Thank you for requesting! I think it's crazy I haven't written anything about childhood best friend! Leon when that's the cutest fucking thing ever omg. For this one, I imagine RE2 Leon for the most part in age and appearance, just some very cute fluff with brief pining so I hope you like this because I really had fun writing this out! For context, there's no Racoon City or trauma, just a normal timeline, and Leon lives in Boston in a house where the reader can climb up to his bedroom window from the backyard. And thank you for saying you like my writing, really made my day. :) [ prompt game ]

#53 - "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?” PAIRING: Childhood best friend! Leon x reader [cw: Fluff, childhood history, little bit of pining] - 1.1k words

Leon was fast asleep in his bed, tucked nicely into his fluffy navy sheets face down in a pillow with drool slipping out of his mouth. He could hear some rattling coming from his window, the noise beginning to stir him from his slumber as he opened his eyes. Disorientated and groggy, he sat up in bed, hair a complete mess and rubbing at the corners of his eyes as he woke up.

Ears perking up to the sound of consistent tapping on the glass of his window, he looked in the direction he heard it, spotting a silhouette that was all too familiar to him. There you were, right on the roof of his bedroom window, the same way you’ve done so many times it became second nature to you. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he moved towards you, lifting the window to let you inside.

“Do you know what time it is?”, Leon grumbled, running his fingers through his hair to put it back in place but knowing he there was no point.

“It’s like 4 am, why?”, you said it to him as if it were nothing, offering a teasing grin.

“Some of us actually need to sleep. We can’t all be vampires like you”, he said to you, crossing his arms over his chest as he saw you go towards his bed, flopping onto it as if were your own.

“I couldn’t sleep and I was bored. So I came to bother you”, you replied, closing your eyes and exhaling a deep breath.

“At 4 in the damn morning?”, you gave him a playful shrug, finding enjoyment in his slight irritation. Even if Leon sounded like he was angry, you knew he wasn’t. He could never be mad at you even if he tried.

This wasn’t something out of the ordinary for either of you. Both you and Leon had known each other for so long that anything considered strange to others was seemingly defined as standard in the bubble that was your friendship. It all started with a funny instance at the age of 5, finding Leon on the playground during recess in kindergarten. Curiosity drew you to the young blonde that sat by himself, doodling in a coloring book on one of the picnic tables.

You sat on the opposite side of him, simply watching as he colored in the drawing haphazardly. You didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t say anything to you, but the both of you developed a form of silent communication. Sometimes, you would draw along with him, silently of course, and rarely, you got lucky and Leon would give you one of his crayons. It became a routine where you both sat at the same table, at the same time, simply sharing a space with each other in a way you both understood.

Until one Thursday, you didn’t come to school because you were out sick. Leon was at his usual spot, at the picnic table with his coloring book, looking for you and wondering where you went. When he couldn’t find any sign of you, he moped for the rest of the day, his mother wondering what had her son in such a weird mood.

When you came back to school the next day, you met with Leon again at the same table, sitting in front of him with the toothy smile you usually wore.

“Where did you go?”, he asked you, speaking to you for the first time since you started to sit with him two weeks ago.

“Got a booboo”, you told him, lifting the sleeve of your shirt to show him the Batman bandaid you had stuck to your skin. His eyes widened the slightest bit, somehow fascinated by the intricate pattern of the adhesive material on your shoulder.

“Woah. Cool!”, and for the first time, you saw Leon’s smile, noticing how he was missing one of his front teeth.

He passed you a piece of paper, watching as you unfolded it to see what it was. It was from yesterday, a stick drawing of you and Leon that he had made when you weren’t here. You cherished that piece of paper as if it were the Monalisa, and when you showed it to your dad the minute you got home, you excitedly told him you had made a friend.

You two have been attached to the hip ever since. From elementary school to high school prom and starting college, you’ve done it all together. And now, here you both were, young adults exploring the world with an unbreakable bond. Some people would pay to have a life connection like that, and it was something neither of you took for granted.

“Can you tell me now why you decided to wake me up this early and didn’t just text me?”, Leon caught how you were wearing one of the many hoodies you had stolen from him. He gave it to you once a few years ago when you were cold, and you never gave it back. Not that he complained, he’d buy as many hoodies as he’d like just so you could steal them later.

“I wanted ice cream, thought you might want to tag along”, you were mischievous, always teasing and bubbly no matter the time of day.

“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?”, he scoffed at you, thinking this was all unbelievable to him when in reality you were very much in character.

“I do smartass. Are you coming or not? We could go get Dairy Queen, I know you like their sundaes”, you suggested, kicking your feet at the edge of Leon’s bed, already knowing he was going to say yes regardless of the time.

“Fine. But you’re buying me lunch tomorrow for waking me up this damn early”, he sighed, admitting his defeat to your schemes.

“Yeah yeah, grumpy pants. Now go clean yourself up, you have some drool on your cheek”, you said back, hearing Leon chuckle under his breath as he went to the bathroom to freshen up before heading out.

You were his best friend, someone he cherished and wanted in his life for as long as he could have you. He’d do anything for you, absolutely anything you asked or wanted he got for you because all he wants is to see you smile. It’s even better if he’s the reason why you smiled, entranced by the way your cheeks perked up ever since he first saw it when you were kids. If only you knew what he was willing to do to make sure you smiled so much your face grew sore.

Whatever you wanted, you got, because he wants you happy. So long as he was the reason why, that's all that mattered to him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

193 notes · View notes

penkura · 3 days

Note

Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader

88 notes · View notes

c-nstantine · 1 year

Note

hey I was wondering if I could request a Wally x batsis!reader x Roy where the two are fighting over batsis and the batboys are taking sides and getting a little too invested in her love life, thanks luv!!❤️

Warnings: references to sex, cursing,

word count: 0.6k

Y/N Wayne was the crush of hundreds of thousands of people and it was obvious why. Her gorgeous brown skin managed to shimmer under the Gotham clouds, her smile that could replace the sun, and she had a heart that was pure. Her track record was not as clear. Having dated a few professional basketball players, a few cheerleaders, and even a few actors, no one really stuck around. Not like Wally and Roy, at least.

Wally had a crush on Y/N from the first time that Dick invited him over. Of course, Y/N was a year or two older than him but that did not stop him from flirting with her. Dick always hit him in the back of the head after he did but Wally thought it was well worth it. Especially, because Y/N was his first kiss, not that he told Dick that. He figured that he would grow out of his childhood crush but he never did. Sure he dated other girls but something about Y/N kept drawing him back.

Roy had a crush on Y/N since Jason broke into her apartment while they needed a place to lay low. He remembers the night like it was yesterday. Jason had slipped the both of them into a rather nice safe house, which ended up being a condo. Y/N was supposed to be at fashion week in Paris but she ended up not going. When she heard footsteps in her apartment, she threw two batarangs at Roy's head and he'd been infatuated ever since. Not to mention, she babysits Lian from time to time and he nearly melts every time he sees them together.

"I'm telling you, she's gonna end up with Roy," Jason spoke as he and Dick were playing Super Smash Bros. It had been a big debate between the two.

"Nah, Wally doesn't have as much baggage. Love the guy but not for my sister," Dick was honest. Wally seemed to be the option with the least difficulties. However, they were Waynes and if their love wasn't difficult, it wouldn't be them.

"Oh, so you'd rather our sister be with someone who regularly disappears into the speed force," Jason countered as he unlocked his special move in the game. He regularly kicked Dick's ass in this game but for some reason, Dick insisted on playing it.

"What are you guys talking about?" Y/N asked as she walked into the home theater. She couldn't find her other siblings so she was stuck with these two for now.

"You need to pick between Roy and Wally," Jason stated as he put the game on pause. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the sudden statement. No one in her family had ever demanded something of her before.

"First of all, I don't have to do shit but stay black and die. Second of all, I am trying," She whined a little.

"I mean it can't be that hard," Dick said hoping to lighten the mood.

"How's Kori? Or are you with Babs?" Y/N asked looking him in his eyes. Dick was taken aback as he put his hand on his chest.

"Damn," Jason mumbled, he was suddenly grateful that his love life was not being broadcasted.

"Low blow, man," Dick sniffled.

"I like them both," Y/N admitted. She wasn't sure which one she liked more. They both were great in their own ways. She also didn't want to be a heartbreaker.

"Which one do you like better?" Jason asked, wishing for a little clarity. He was really hoping she was leaning more toward Roy.

"Well, Wally can vibrate his entire body but Roy does this thing with his tong-," Y/N started. She knew saying this would allow her brothers to leave her alone.

"No! No! I do not need to know," Dick started screaming while covering his ears. He quickly left the theater room and did not bother to look back.

"So, what'd we learn?" Y/N asked while looking at her remaining brother.

"Not to ask about your love life." Jason made a face of disgust while Y/N just smiled.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black!batsis #black reader #roy harper x batsis #wally west x black!batsis #wally west x black!reader #wally west x batsis #roy harper x reader #jason todd #roy harper #dick grayson #black batsis #c-nstantine

423 notes · View notes

messrmoonyy · 2 months

Text

- of smoking and dancing

Tess servopoulos x reader

Request- I know smoking is bad but seeing gifs of Anna smoking made me desperate to see Tess smoking it’s so hot somehow 😭😭 flirting and sharing a pack? Ahhhhhhh! ‘ combined with a bunch of requests for some kind of fluffy follow up to this drabble here

Warnings- I guess slightly ooc Tess. Shes a little awkward. A little soft. ( WC- 2.2k )

A/N- don’t smoke kids lmao. I really didn’t feel like posting this tbh. Some of my tess readers have been VILE in my ask box lately. Pls remember I am a human being. And not a word machine ready to churn out fic as you demand it.

Tess masterlist

“ you are a hard woman to find “ Tess tensed slightly as you spoke behind her, her hand loitering a little awkwardly half raised between her mouth and her side, cigarette balancing between her fingers. She collected herself quickly, bringing it back to her lips.

“ maybe you just don’t look hard enough “ that made you laugh a little, the small quiet kind meant to be shared between two people only. The kind that meant you weren’t trying to draw attention.

In all honesty she liked to think she was a little hard to find. Prided herself on her ability to go unnoticed when she chose it, slip around and keep herself to herself. She didn’t like company much. Not really. Yours though… she didn’t mind that. On the times she allowed herself to have it.

“ didn’t know you smoked “ you mused moving to stand beside her, tucking yourself into the shadowed spot behind the Bison that Tess had secluded herself to. She’d only left her house in the first place because Joel had asked, making stupid comments about you as he did. Acting like some burly Texan Cupid. Ass. But she had slipped away as soon as she’d seen the opportunity to. Not that she’d gone very far.

She didn’t quite know why she hadn’t just gone home. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly why she had chosen to hang around a little. Smoke the pack of cigarettes she’d been slowly making her way though since she’d found them. As if by some miracle they’d make her pluck up the courage to well… do something.

“ I don’t “ she didn’t. Not really. It’d never been her thing. She preferred the burning warmth of liquor than smoke. But she wanted an excuse to be outside and not look like some creeper loitering in the dark. And maybe they didn’t have the stress relieving factor of a glass of god knows what Tommy had been brewing. But they did have a little. And didn’t come with a free headache.

“ funny that… can I? “ Tess shrugged, half expecting to see you reach out and take it from her hand. But instead your leant forward a little, lips parting slightly in a way that made Tess’ skin flush. She placed it between your lips and watched you smile as you leant back, taking it from her fingers “ smokings so gross “ you sighed, blowing out a steady cloud of smoke “ specially these. How fucking old are they? “

“ I’m not forcing you to take the damn thing “ that made you smile again, tipping your head to the side to watch her light up another “ also… I don’t know. Found them in a house in the town by the creek trails “ you hummed a response, nose crinkling a little as you blew out some smoke and turned your wrist to look at the stale thing in between your fingers.

“ why you hiding away out here anyway? “ Tess shrugged leaning her arms down on the fence in front of her. You moved to stand beside her and she knew you were looking down at her without even needing to see your face. Could feel it.

“ just wanted some air “

“ sure “ you scoffed, holding your hand out over the fence to tap away the ash “ I always see you you know. How you turn up at these stupid things, hang around a little then slip away “ Tess shrugged again, glancing up at you. You flicked away your cigarette half smoked and turned to lean back against the fence, something clearly going on inside your mind that she could not figure out yet.

“ I don’t really like crowds “

“ I figured that much “ you said with a smile, glancing back down at her again in a way that made Tess’ skin flush “ you might like it if you involved yourself a little. Even just danced some “ it was Tess’ turn to scoff and she too tossed her cigarette and straightened herself out, resting her hip against the wood.

“ I don’t dance “

“ so you won’t dance with me? “ it was the first time you’d asked since she’d rejected you the last time. In the months in between you hadn’t seemed deterred by it. Had taken it on and acted as if it had never happened, continuing to try spend time with her and Tess had been trying her best not to push you away.

In fact she had been trying her hardest to actively try and be… friends. But sometimes those weird hopeful feelings would surface within her and she terrified herself. Would take two steps back from the one step she had taken forward. Not that you ever seemed particularly put off by it.

She still hadn’t answered you and gave a small sigh.

“ one dance. And if you absolutely hate it then you can run off back out here, hide away in the dark like some little cave troll and smoke your stale ass cigarettes and I’ll leave you to it “ the smile on your face as she spoke had her mind made up before she could even truly decide that she did or did not want to go back inside.

“ one “ you beamed at her as she said, truly a utter ray of sunshine on her moody and miserable self.

She tucked her cigarettes and matches down into her jean pockets and followed you back inside. As the night was wearing on it seemed a little less crowded than when she had first arrived, which she liked. Less people to look at her. Less people to talk.

Though Joel and Ellie clocked her the moment she stepped back inside, Joel looking incredibly smug watching you grab a hold of her hand and lead her out into the empty space that was serving as a dance area.

“ I think- “

“ don’t back out on me now Tess “ you said in a challenging tone, smile so cheeky she wanted to kiss it right off of you. And wasn’t that one of those terrible two steps back kind of thoughts.

“ I don’t know the steps “

“ no one knows the steps you just.. go with it. Just hold my hand I got you “ but before you could so much as twirl around the music switched from the previous upbeat song, to something slower. Her eyes darted over to where the music was coming from and she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

Her eyes found Maria who looked incredibly proud of herself, even with Tess giving her a glare that could kill the woman she was sure. She froze as your arms looped around her neck, eyes leaving Maria to look at you instead.

“ this is better, no steps to this kinda song “ she felt like an awkward teenage boy at his first school dance, with no idea how to even look at a girl never mind dance with one.

But it felt nice. To have you holding onto her like that, standing so close there was barely an inch between the two of your bodies. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your waist and you smiled.

“ see “ you said “ easy “ she could feel Maria’s eyes on her. Joel’s. Ellie’s. But it almost didn’t annoy her as much as it had at first. Because of the way you were looking up at her, the at you were so close together she could smell the shampoo you used. She was hyper aware of every part of your bodies that touched, skin burning and prickling at the sensation.

“ I don’t think you can class this as dancing “ you laughed a little and shrugged.

“ hmm maybe not. But it’s nice right? “ you were talking softly, directly to her and not for the prying eyes or ears of anyone around you.

She mulled over the question. Of course it was nice. It was beyond nice. It was what she had spent months pining for and moping around about. Hating herself for wanting you close and hating herself for how far she seemed to be from the woman back in Boston she had shaped herself into.

“ it’s nice “ you smiled warmly, arms tightening a little around her.

“ you’re doing me a favour too you know. Some guy from farming rotation? Been asking me to dance all night. Think he’ll get the picture now “ that made her chest tighten a little. Some stupid worry that, had you only asked her to dance to scare off some guy? “ I only really wanted to dance with you though “ you said silencing her fears before she could ever even dream to make them vocal.

The slow songs continued to play. And you both stayed there in that gentle swaying embrace, occasionally speaking about random things and fess listening diligently to everything you had to say to her. Eventually the crowd grew bored, demanding something a little more upbeat. And as much as Tess hadn’t particularly wanted to be there with you at first, she now didn’t want it to end. But unfortunately it had to.

You sighed as the song changed, taking a step back from her and rolling your eyes. Tess felt awkward again. And annoyed at herself for feeling awkward. She was ready to flee back outside and hide but you took her hand.

“ do you wanna go get some air? “ you asked her. She wondered if you sensed her discomfort, could feel the heat radiating off her “ kinda hot in here huh? “

“ yeah “

It was chilly outside. The temperature having dropped a lot since she had gone inside with you. But it was a nice contrast on her overheated skin, a nice break from the noise too. There were a few people lingering around, a few kids running around and playing with sticks as if they were swords. It made her smile.

“ I love being outside at night“ you mused, sitting yourself down on one of the benches outside. She slotted herself in beside you, chill escaping her as you shuffled close to her “ pretty. Calm “ Tess noticed you still hadn’t let go of her hand that you had grabbed to lead her back outside

Tess said nothing. Instead tried to internally process the entire situation. The night as a whole. How much she had enjoyed allowing herself to be in your company.

“ oh oh look. See him over there? That’s the one I told you about “ you said and nudged her with your shoulder, nodding over to a man leaving the bison looking a little worse for wear.

“ he seems… nice “ you laughed at that and snuggled a little closer to Tess “ you cold? “

“ hmm little “ she hesitated for a moment before freeing the arm trapped between you both and looping it around your shoulders. She felt you physically relax against her, sighing softly. The feelings were creeping again. And the fear that came alongside them. The fear of being vulnerable. Of letting someone in.

“ so you don’t. You don’t like him? “ she spoke in some attempt to derail her thought process.

“ I don’t like him “ you said immediately, not even a second thought “ I like someone else “ her chest hurt. A pang deep down that she couldn’t ignore if she tried.

And she hated it. She hated it so much. That she had allowed herself to feel. To strip back the layers of scary Boston Tess, leave herself some silly little crush and let herself be vulnerable.

“ I’m sure they’re very lucky “ she practically whispered.

“ they don’t even realise “

You turned your head slightly, cold nose brushing against her neck. She suddenly felt warm again. An anxious warmth radiating from her chest in a way she was unfamiliar with. Her old self would be laughing at her.

“ have you told them “ she felt you smile, felt the way your cheeks lifted and a small laugh vibrated past your lips.

“ the signs are obvious “ your face lifted from her neck and was suddenly incredibly close to hers. She licked her lips nervously. She wanted to kiss you. God did she want to kiss you. Old Tess would’ve. Old Tess would’ve kissed you months ago.

But that wasn’t her anymore. This was her. Sat with her arms around a girl that she liked. But didn’t like her. She was a fool. Really she was.

“ you’re a very smart woman Tess “ you started, voice low. Soft “ But fuck you’re oblivious as hell sometimes “ and then your lips were against hers, kissing her softly but with a quiet determination. She froze at first, unsure on how to react. But then she was kissing you back, hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Your hand twisted into the collar of her sweater like you didn’t want her to let go.

And she didn’t plan on it. Kissing you softly, slowly, savouring every single moment in case you decided you regretted it and she’d never get to kiss you again.

It seemed to last forever, so sensual and slow and she forgot where she was. Forgot about everything other than how incredible it felt to kiss you, to feel your cold hands in the collar of her sweater. To feel your cheeks flush with warmth under her fingers. She could taste the smoke, smell the fruitiness of your hair, the softness of your skin.

She didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to stop.

But all good things must eventually come to an end.

When you did finally pull away it was barely a few centimetres, brushing your nose against hers before pressing your foreheads together. Her thumb was brushing softly across your cheekbone, reluctant to let you go.

“ you should’ve let me do that a long time ago “ you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

“ maybe I should’ve “

#please stop acting like you are allowed to demand content and then passively consume it #and stop attacking me because I am a multifandom blog posting multifandom content #also #I’m trying out new layouts and shit idk man #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us #tlou #tess tlou #the last of us fanfiction #Anna Torv #x you #fluff #tess lives #Tess lives au

88 notes · View notes