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iamnotoriginalphil · 4 months

Note

Hello, would you consider writing a unit chief Emily Prentiss x R story? Where reader has nipple piercings and one day at the air conditioner at the BAU breaks so readers in a tank top so the outline of them is noticeable. And of course Derek is the first to notice so he loudly points it out which draws the teams attention to them, and let’s just say Emily very intrigued with them. You could right smut for it if you want to but if not that’s okay.

The Heatwave

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: choking, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, strap on, alcohol, piercings

“You can’t be serious. Thursday? In the middle of this heatwave? We’re going to die.”

Listening to Garcia complain to Morgan was not helping you concentrate on the report Emily wanted on her desk. You swiped the back of your wrist along your forehead, wiping away the sweat threatening to drip into your eye. Your hair was tied up, exposing the back of your neck, begging for a breeze to come along. You needed some sweet relief or you might collapse at your desk.

Summer was particularly brutal that year. You’d been sweating on your commute to and from the office, the air con the only thing keeping you going through the day. But yesterday there had been a weird noise, a shudder in the vents and the cold air had stopped. You weren’t you’d managed to dry out since.

Wiping more sweat away, you sighed. Your tank top was doing nothing to save you from the fires of hell licking at your skin. You groaned, head thunking against the desk.

“See? Brink of death already,” Garcia said, standing behind you.

“I’m not dead,” you said, muffled into the wood of your desk.

“Yet. I’m going to have to go flirt with the maintenance guy and he always stares because he knows that I am a prime woman that he can not keep up with,” she said.

“Of course you are, baby girl. Now go work that pretty face of yours,” Morgan said.

You sighed, sitting up again. It’s not as if you’d be getting any work done with them at your desk, and nor could you nap in the heat. Just the feeling of your skin was making you feel insane.

“When are they going to fix this damned thing?” Emily said, striding out of her office, file clutched in her hand. You felt your heart skip a beat. She was hotter than the heatwave you were going through, and even sweaty, she still made you catch your breath. It wasn’t fair how sexy she was when you were a gross mess.

“Thursday,” Garcia called over to her.

“Can’t we do something about that? she asked, striding over to the huddle that had sprung up at your desk.

“Do you want to flirt with the maintenance guy?” Garcia asked.

“The one with the lazy eye or the one who always smells like cheese?” she asked.

“That’s the same person and yes, that one,” she replied.

Emily shook her head, nose wrinkled. Garcia sighed, crossing her arms over her chest then immediately uncrossing them.

“Hey, what’s that on your chest?” Morgan asked, pointing.

You looked down, not able to see anything out the ordinary. You looked back up, finding him staring at your chest. Then it clicked. You knew he’d been too quiet, and you’d been so distracted by Emily that you hadn’t noticed.

“Are you staring at my tits?” you asked him.

“No,” he said, looking up to your eye, “yes.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, much in the way Garcia had. It only pushed your tits up, making them more obvious. Garcia was openly looking, eyebrows drawing together until realisation dawned over her face. Emily’s eyes darted down then up to your face again, tongue darting out to drag along her bottom lip. The tension that had been stretching between the two of you for weeks was making you arch your back just a little, giving her a better view.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business,” you said, trying to not get flustered from the heat in Emily’s gaze, “but I have my nipples pierced.”

You lifted your chin, waiting for one of them to say something. A grin spread over Morgan’s face and you could already hear the comments. You glared, waiting for him to say something.

“The girls like that, huh?” he asked.

“They don’t hate it,” you replied.

You couldn’t bare to look at Emily. You might implode if you did. Her reaction could either make or break your ability to think around her. Although, you were hoping she was one of the girls who didn’t hate it.

“Now, if we’re done talking about my nipples, I believe Garcia has a maintenance man to flirt with so none of us die before Thursday,” you said.

You turned back to your computer, your report waiting for you. You did your best to continue working, feeling the weight of the three people standing behind you slow to move away. You were done talking about it in front of your boss, who happened to be the one person you thought about when your fingers were buried deep within you.

“Turns out flirting with Manny in maintenance did nothing. He’s called a guy from the air conditioning company to come fix it and wouldn’t give me his number so I could flirt with him,” Garcia said, stopping by your desk, “so pool party at Rossi’s tonight. You in?”

“Does he know you’re hosting a pool party at his place?” you asked.

“Of course,” she said, “bring your best bikini.”

It was a relief to change into your bikini after work. The cool brush of air on your skin before you pulled on a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt. The air con in your car was the only thing getting you through the drive, bare thighs sticking to the leather of the seat. You parked, staring up at the big house. You jumped when someone knocked on your window.

“Hey,” you said, stepping out of your car.

“So they roped you into this too, huh?” Emily said, closing the door for you, trapping you against the car. Your eyes flicked down her body, a tank top and jeans covering whatever swimsuit she had on. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of seeing her in one when you’d agreed to come.

“Are you kidding? Free pool and free drinks? Count me in,” you said.

She chuckled, those dark eyes sweeping over you. Your skin felt on fire and you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat wave or from the sexy woman in front of you.

“Earlier, at the office,” she said, that tongue you’d dreamt about dragging along her lower lip, “when you were talking about-“

“Are you two going to stand out there all night or are you going to come get wet?”

You jumped, back hitting the side of your car as you startled. Garcia was standing in the doorway, looking at the two of you like you’d both lost your minds. You laughed, trying to cover the dirty thoughts slipping through your mind at Garcia’s words.

“Come on,” you said.

You slipped past her, body brushing against hers. Her eyes were still trained on you, sweeping over your body, and you were trying your best not to read too much into it. You combed your fingers through your hair, pulling it up into a ponytail to get it off the sticky skin of your neck. With your back to her, you missed the way Emily watched you, eyes darkening and lips pulling up into a smirk.

You were quick to pick up an ice cold beer as you passed through the kitchen, plucking it from the cooler. Derek flung his arm over your shoulders, already dripping from the pool. You wrinkled your nose, shoving his arm off you.

“What took you so long?” Morgan asked, “changing into more pool appropriate jewellery?”

“You keep that up and you’ll never get out of that pool,” you replied.

“Do you have to change them to make them pool safe?” Garcia asked.

“Change what?” Spencer asked, dipping his toe into the pool, trousers rolled up to his ankles.

“My piercings. They’re the big news of the day,” you replied, “we’re not talking about this any more.”

“But you don’t have your ears-“

You shoved Reid in the shoulder. His arms windmilled before he fell forward, a large splash going up, water landing on your bare legs. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the giggles in. They burst from you, unwilling to be contained. He was gasping for air when he emerged from the water, hair plastered to his face.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Emily chided, coming up behind you.

“I told him we weren’t talking about it anymore,” you said.

“Of course you were,” she said.

You weren’t expecting her hands landing on your shoulders, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt. With very little effort, she shoved you backwards, straight into the cold water of the pool. Your shriek was cut off as you went under.

Spluttering, you surfaced from the water. The laughter was surrounding you. You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of the pool, offering a hand to Reid to pull him out after you.

“Alright, point taken,” you said, “can we stop talking about my nipples now?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s face turned into a tomato.

You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Wringing it out over the pool, you didn’t notice the way Emily’s eyes were lingering on your bare skin, water dripping down your body. You turned, slinging the shirt over one of the loungers, once again failing to notice how Emily’s eyes lingered where your piercings were pressing up against your bikini top.

“Alright, I’m getting another beer since mine is now at the bottom of the pool,” you said, “spoils to the victors I guess.”

Stripping your sneakers and socks off, you left them on the deck and stepped back into the kitchen. Bending, you rummaged through the ice and the cans for a bottle. You stood, empty handed, disappointment making you sigh.

“Oh, have we already run out?”

You jerked, spinning towards the woman you hadn’t heard follow you. Bumping into her, something cold sloshed over your skin. The bottle held in her hand was sweating in the warm air and the scent of beer was on the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, finger swiping through the beer clinging to your skin, right over the soft skin beside the wet fabric of your bikini.

“It’s alright. It was an accident,” you said, breath catching, heart thudding, skin heating.

“You might want to clean up. We wouldn’t want you to be so…” She raised her dark eyes from where she’d been watching her finger trail through the beer on your skin, “sticky.”

You stumbled back a step from her, heart racing. You had no idea what was going through her head but all you could think was how you wanted her tongue to trace the same route as her finger.

“I’m going to… go wash this off,” you said, slipping past her.

Her eyes followed you out of the room and this time you did notice. You weren’t fleeing but you were strategically retreating or else you might beg her lick you clean. You closed the door, giving yourself room to breathe again.

Turning on the faucet, you dabbed at the trail of drying beer on your skin. When you looked up again you found the door opening and a dark haired figure sliding into the bathroom with you. Your eyes widened when they met Emily’s in the mirror.

“Sorry. I’ll just be a second,” you said.

“No rush,” she hummed.

Reaching around you, she placed the glass bottle down on the edge of the sink, arm brushing against the dip of your waist. You stilled, frozen from how close she was, staring into her face. Lips pulled up into a confident smirk. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding your breath as she seemed to draw even closer.

“I was hoping to get you alone tonight. I have a favour to ask,” she said, voice deepening as her eyes swept down again, focusing on your bare skin and the way your hardened nipples were showing through your bikini top.

“Oh?” you squeaked.

“Will you show me your piercings?” she asked.

You stuttered over an answer, cheeks heating as the thought of showing her filled your head. Your head quickly emptied of thoughts as her finger came up, playing with the string of your bikini. It brushed up over your collarbone before gently running over your pulse point. She watched you as she gently tugged on it, snapping it back against your skin.

“Please?” she asked, voice lowering until it was an intimate whisper.

“Alright,” you said, breathless, desperate, her touch making you a mess with so little effort.

She stepped back, her hand slipping from you. You took a deep shuddering breath, reaching up to slowly pull the knot free. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip as your top slid free, exposing your chest to her. One hand came up, resting against your ribs, steadying you as she stared down at your tits.

“So pretty,” she murmured.

One finger gently tapped on the ball at the end of the bar of one of the piercings. Your sharp inhalation brought her eyes up to yours, smouldering as she did it again. You weren’t aware of arching your back, pushing them towards her but her satisfied smirk was answer enough.

“Does that feel good, princess?” she asked. That nickname sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs.

“Uh huh,” you replied.

She gently tugged on the other, your small whimper making her chuckle.

“Use you words, princess,” she said.

“Feels so good,” you replied.

She did it again, a little rougher. Her name was a soft sigh, arching even further, practically begging her to continue. She complied, both hands playing with the jewellery in your nipples. Your fingers clutched at the counter, holding you up as you lent backwards.

“And what do you say when I make you feel so good?” she murmured, drawing closer.

“Thank you, daddy,” slipped from between your lips, surprising you. Your eyes widened, an apology ready, until you saw the way her eyes darkened, a sharp tug on one piercing then the other making you forget why you should.

She lent forward, breath ghosting over your hardened nipples. You froze, waiting to see what she was about to do. Her pink tongue ran along the length of one bar. Your moan was embarrassing in your ears but her hands were wrapped around your ribs, holding you in place as she did the same thing to the other one. She hummed, doing it again, transitioning from metal to flesh back to metal.

The clack of her teeth against the metal startled you until she tugged again, lips brushing flesh. Your knees were turning to jelly and you were gasping for air, but she held you in place as she played with your jewellery. Your head tipped back, fingers tangling in her dark hair as you pressed her closer. She hummed again, taking your nippled in her mouth, tongue playing with the piercing.

The throbbing between your legs was growing and you could feel how wet you were. You wanted her. You wanted her so badly it was like a physical thing, lodged in your chest. The vibration of her moan while her eyes looked up at you made you make small noise in the back of your throat.

Her teeth closed on the metal, tugging on it to the point of pain curling around the pleasure. The way you moaned her name was filthy, embarrassing in how desperate you were. Her hand was gentle as it skimmed up your body for those long fingers wrapped around your throat. She tugged on your piercing again, fingers tightening just enough for your whine to be quiet.

“Now you’re going to be good for daddy, aren’t you?” she said.

“Yes,” you breathed, not even sure what you were agreeing to.

“Then be good for daddy and turn around.”

You scrambled to follow her instructions, turning to face the mirror. Your eyes were blown wide in the mirror, wild and desperate. Her fingers curled around your throat again, the prettiest necklace you could imagine. With one foot she knocked both of yours apart, her other hand reaching around your body to play with the button of your denim shorts.

“You’re so good at following my instructions,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You felt breathless, and not just from the tightening pressure on your throat.

“Do you see how pretty you are? Looking so lovely for daddy. Wearing such pretty jewellery for me. Flaunting this body. Do you know what you do to me?” she continued, the hand on the waistband of your shorts trailing up, playing with one of your piercings again.

“Those tight little skirts in the office, watching me like you’re just waiting for me to bend you over my desk, asking for discipline. You want me to give you my full attention, don’t you princess?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“And that’s why you decided to show off to everyone today, isn’t it? I noticed the way you arched your back, wanting everyone to see these pretty little piercings. Did you want everyone to be imagining what you look like like this, your beautiful body on display, just perfect for my hands to play with? Such a little slut trying to get my attention.”

Her fingers tightened again around your neck. Those dark eyes were watching you, the cocky smirk on her lips only making you shift closer, pressing your hips backwards towards her. You brushed against a bulge in her pants, confusion marring your features before realisation dawned over your face.

“Do you want daddy’s cock, princess?” she asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Then beg for it.”

Her eyes met yours in the mirror, waiting with a patience you did not feel.

“Please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. I need it. I need to feel you inside me. Please,” you pleaded, “please fuck me, daddy. I’ll be so good for you. I want you so much.”

Her hand trailed back down to your shorts, unbuttoning them.

“That’s my good girl,” she said.

She tugged your shorts down, your bikini bottom following close behind. You kicked them away as she tugged her hips back, the bulge in her pants brushing against the bare skin of your ass. A small whine fell from your lips, pressing further backwards.

A finger passed through your folds, gathering your wetness before it ghosted over your clit. If not for the hand still wrapped around your throat, your head would have fallen forward with a small groan. Her throaty chuckle as she teased you only made you whine, begging her for more. She held your eyes in the mirror, finger dipping into your entrance, just barely, stealing your breath again.

“Look at how desperate you are. Such a desperate little slut begging for daddy’s cock. Pretty little whore wanting to please me.”

Her hand disappeared from between your legs and the sound of a zipper made you shiver. The warmth of her body pressed against your back. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the sink, knees turning to jelly.

She held you steady, one hand on your hip as the tip of her strap teased your entrance. She gave a shallow thrust, the strap stroking through your folds. Your breath turned shaky and her fingers tightened just a little bit more, enough that you could only just suck air into your lungs.

“You’re going to make such a mess on daddy’s cock. You’re dripping. Is all this for me?”

“Yes,” came out as a strangled groan, “all for you.”

“That’s my good girl.”

She was slow to push into you, so controlled in contrast to how desperation burned through your veins. Her dark eyes were watching you in the mirror, cataloguing the way pleasure rippled over your face and a moan fell from your lips. She pushed in to the hilt, hips flushed with yours. Pausing there, she let you feel how perfectly she filled you. You wriggled your hips, wanting more, the throbbing more than you could deal with.

“Use your words, princess,” she chided, holding you still.

“Please fuck me, daddy. Please,” you whined, “need you so bad.”

“Good girl.”

She pulled out until only the tip of the cock was left before slamming into you. The cry that left your lips would have embarrassed you if a wave of pleasure wasn’t rolling over you. Your fingers clenched, holding on tight as she dragged the strap out, pausing for too long before plunging in again.

The pace she set was relentless. Harsh and rough, she maintained eye contact with you, fingers clenching around your throat the moment it looked as if you were about to look away. Her other hand was finding its home between your thigh, circling your clit, a slow contrast to her thrusts. The mumbled encouragements in your ears were only setting fire to your bloodstream.

“You’re taking it so well for daddy,” she murmured, “such a pretty pussy hungry for daddy’s cock. My little cock slut.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you sighed.

“So polite.” She sounded so pleased with you.

You moaned as her pace picked up, slamming into you. Her thumb was grinding down on your bundle of nerves and you could feel her panting breath against your skin. Her hand was tightening around your throat, cutting off your air supply. You watched her in the mirror watching you. You met her thrust for thrust, pressing your hips back to hers. You felt so full with her inside of you, her cock emptying your head of anything but her and the way she made you feel hazy with pleasure.

“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimpered.

“No cumming without permission, princess,” she told you, not bothering to slow her pace.

You did your best, holding yourself back, trying so hard not to orgasm. You wanted to be her good girl. To do what she asked you. To please her.

“Look at how pretty your pussy is when I fuck into it. It was made for my cock, wasn’t it, princess? Made just for me to use,” she murmured, hips driving into you.

She wasn’t holding back. She was watching you, so closely, making sure you followed her instructions. From the curl of her lips she knew how hard you were trying and how difficult she was making it for you. Each thrust of her cock hit that place within you that made your legs tremble and your blood sing. Over and over, thumb grinding, the pleasure was turning painful as you held yourself back.

“Please, daddy. Need to cum so bad,” you begged, tears beginning to gather in the corner of your eyes.

“Not yet, princess. Keep making daddy feel good,” she said, “you’re doing so well for me.”

You sobbed, so close to coming undone but determined to be a good girl for her. She kept pounding into you, her praise only making it harder to hold on. With a tight grip, she cut off your air supply completely. Her eyes found yours in the mirror again, and her lips ticked up into a smirk.

“Okay, cum for me, princess,” she said.

It crashed into you the moment you let it. Pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You sobbed out your thanks, hips stuttering as you felt yourself begin to collapse forward. The hand around your throat kept you up as she fucked you through the orgasm.

She released you, letting you fall over the sink. Her thrusting slowed until she was sheathed within you, holding you, hands gentle until you caught your breath. Sweat slicked your skin and your breathing was uneven, but when you looked in the mirror your eyes were bright and your smile lazy.

“You were so good for me, princess. Such a good girl. So perfect for me,” she praised, “you did so well.”

She pulled out of you, the feeling of being full disappearing with her. She lowered you onto the edge of the bath, so gentle. Looking up, still with her tank top on and the cock between her legs, you found yourself staring. She’d just made you cum harder than ever in your life and you wanted her to touch you again.

With sure hands, she wetted a flannel before kneeling in front of you, cleaning the sticky arousal from your skin. You melted, watching her clean you up. You reached out, running your hand through her hair. She smiled up at you, fingers trailing over the skin of your legs. Her lips pressed to the inside of your knee and you softened.

“Was that okay?” she asked, “were you okay with that?”

“More than.” You lent forward, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Emily. This was basically my dream coming true.”

“Mine too,” she said, looking up at you.

“Maybe we could do this again,” you said, doing your best not to worry she was about to tell you this was a one time thing. She pushed the hair that had fallen from your ponytail behind your ear.

“Oh, we’re definitely doing this again,” she said, raising from her knees, “I plan on having you in every way possible.”

You heated at the thought. She tucked her strap on back into her trousers, pulling them up and re-buttoning them. She lent forward again, catching your chin between thumb and forefinger. Her lips pressed to yours, so quick it left you wanting more.

“Enjoy the beer, princess,” she said, tapping on the ball of one of your piercings, making you hiss, “you’ve earned it.”

She slipped out of the bathroom, leaving you alone to redress and try to not look like you’d just been fucked in Rossi’s bathroom. The smile on your face was a dead give away. You fixed your ponytail and pulled on your damp clothes, watching yourself in the mirror. Picking up the bottle left for you, you took a long drink from it, your lips where Emily’s had been not so long ago. Your smile refused to dim.

Maybe the heatwave wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds imagine

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hockey-fics · 4 months

Text

That Week in Vancouver ~ Quinn Hughes

(Pt. 2 of That Night in Michigan)

"You can just keep believing whatever you want to believe if it makes you feel better about the way you treated me."

Word count: ~11,800

Warnings: some toxic behaviours (primarily arguing), drinking, language, smut.

A/N: there is a small potential for a part three, I have an idea for it but it depends on how motivated I am to keep going with this as a series. It's already gotten much longer than I ever intended it to.

“Do you have time to talk?”

There’s a silence that falls over the line that makes your heart race, your hands growing clammy. He had answered the phone at the very least, you had to hold onto some hope that he would be willing to have a conversation. It wasn’t a big ask, you didn’t need all day. You just needed a few minutes, a few minutes that could determine the outcome of your entire relationship.

“Quinn?” you whisper, unable to sit in the silence for any longer.

“I don’t really have time,” Quinn tells you, his voice distant and cold.

“Oh,” you mumble, your eyes prickling with tears. “When, um…when would you have time?”

“I don’t know,” Quinn replies quickly. “Things are kind of busy right now.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you blink quickly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears coming to your eyes. “Quinn, please,” you plead.

“Sorry,” Quinn mumbles. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he croaks, the first indication that this wasn’t as easy for him as he was making it seem.

Before you have the chance to say anything else the call ends, your heart sinking with it. Pulling your knees to your chest you feel a few tears slip from your eyes. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. Wiping the tears from your face with your sleeve you struggle through a few deep breaths, your breath catching in your throat each time. Was this really how it was going to end? A lifetime of friendship. Years of feelings. All of that to end without so much as a conversation.

You don’t know how long you sit there until eventually your body is so exhausted from crying that you climb off the couch, heading straight to bed. At least if you were asleep you could silence the never-ending stream of thoughts about you and Quinn. It doesn’t take long till you fall asleep that night, sleeping till late the next morning.

When you finally pull yourself out of bed you take a shower, your body numb as you go about some sort of normal routine, unsure of what else to do. Standing in front of the coffee maker in your kitchen you stare at the drops of coffee splashing into the slowly filling pot. Your phone vibrates on the counter beside you and you glance over at it, opening the text message from Luke.

‘if I get a dog would you look after it when we’re on the road?’

Sighing you read the message before locking your phone, setting it back down again to pour yourself a mug of coffee. As you’re stirring some cream into it you hear your phone vibrate again.

‘at least turn your read receipts off if you’re going to ignore me’

Picking up your phone you quickly send him a message back. ‘sorry, just not having a great day’.

A second later your screen is filled with an incoming FaceTime call from Luke. Groaning quietly you slide to answer it as you walk into the living room. “Hi,” you say quietly, flopping down onto the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, skipping past a greeting.

“Nothing,” you mumble, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket that was tossed over the back of your couch. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Alright,” Luke drawls, clearly not convinced. “So will you look after my dog?”

You can’t help but giggle, rolling your eyes. Luke was always there for you when things weren’t going well, even if he didn’t always know the appropriate responses to your emotions. “I don’t know if you’re even responsible enough to take care of a dog when you are home.”

“I am,” Luke defends quickly. “I just have to feed him and walk him.”

“And train him and brush him and take him to the vet and the dog groomer and make sure he’s getting enough exercise.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do all that,” Luke says with a shrug. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Sure,” you say with a quiet laugh. “I’ll look after him when you’re on the road if you get a dog.”

“Thank you,” Luke replies, smiling happily. “Now tell me why you’re so sad.”

Sighing loudly you toss your head back dramatically, staring up at the ceiling. “Quinn won’t talk to me,” you state quickly, knowing that if you didn’t just say it you wouldn’t be able to get the words out. “I called him last night, he won’t talk to me.”

“What did he say?”

“Literally nothing,” you mumble. “He said he didn’t have time to talk and he’s too busy to talk later.”

“He’s just upset about you and Holtzy,” Luke explains, as if you were completely in the dark as to why Quinn didn’t want to talk to you.

“I know, Luke, I’m not an idiot,” you exclaim, eyes flooding with tears again. “Sorry…I just…I don’t know what to do. I miss him.” Reaching up you quickly wipe away the tears that had pooled under your eyes.

“I know,” Luke mutters, nodding slowly. “Are you doing anything today?”

“Not really,” you tell him honestly, shrugging it off quickly.

“Get ready, I’m going to pick you up.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere, Luke,” you mutter, sighing quietly.

“You just want to sit there and cry alone all day?”

“Oh my god,” you whine, shaking your head. “Leave me alone.”

“I’ll be there in like forty-five minutes,” Luke tells you, hanging up before you can argue against it.

Sighing you pull yourself off the couch, finding an outfit for whatever this mysterious outing was. You busy yourself getting ready until Luke texts you, telling you he was there. Hurrying out of your apartment you find him idling on the street in front of your apartment building, hopping into his car. “Hi,” you greet, pulling your seatbelt on.

“Hey,” Luke replies, waiting till you were situated in your seat before pulling back out onto the road. “Do you want like a coffee or something?”

“You’re trying really hard, aren’t you?” you tease, giggling quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to be sad,” Luke tells you. “But if you keep making fun of me I might stop.”

“No, please don’t,” you laugh. “Yeah, I’d love a coffee.”

Luke takes you to your favourite coffee shop, after you gave him step by step instructions of how to get there. With a latte in hand you climb back into Luke’s car, still unsure of where he was planning to take you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” Luke tells you with a mischievous smile.

“I’m scared,” you joke, taking a sip of your coffee as you look out the window, trying to figure out where you could possibly be headed.

Shortly after Luke pulls into the parking lot of a large building, your eyes focusing on the sign out front. “You’re unbelievable,” you laugh, looking at the animal shelter in front of you.

“Come on, you know that seeing dogs is going to cheer you up.”

You follow Luke out of the car and towards the building. “We’re not leaving here with a dog, Luke,” you warn, stepping inside as Luke holds the door open for you.

After talking briefly with the woman at the front counter she guides you through the building to the dog kennels. “Looking to expand the family?” she asks with a friendly smile.

“What?” Luke asks cluelessly.

“No…we’re not, um, we’re-,” you begin.

“Ew,” Luke mutters.

Looking over at him you narrow your eyes, scoffing. “Well you don’t have to act like it would be disgusting,” you joke. “We’re just friends, he’s looking for a dog, I’m just the designated pet-sitter.”

“Well it’s always good to have a pet-sitter lined up,” she says uncertainly. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to take a look, let me know if you have any questions.”

Walking over to one of the kennels you look at the tag on the door, reading it over. “Muffins,” you gush, looking at the small dog in the kennel. “His name is Muffins,” you repeat.

“Muffins is ugly,” Luke mutters from behind you, staring at the little dog with scraggly fur, bulging eyes, tear stains on his white fur. Reaching over you playfully whack Luke’s arm. “Don’t be mean to Muffins,” you scold.

“Look at this one,” Luke says, drawing your attention away from Muffins and to the large lab in the next kennel over.

“You’re so predictable,” you tease, reading the description of Dewey the lab. The two of you wander along the rows of kennels, fighting against falling in love with each and every one of the dogs. By the time you were leaving that afternoon you were covered in dog fur, no longer quite as sad as you had been when you woke up that morning.

Sitting in the car with Luke he scrolls through the pictures that he had taken of the dogs, clearly wanting to go back in and adopt one right then and there. Leaning over you look through the pictures with him, stopping him when he gets to a picture he took of you and one of the puppies. “Can you send that to me?”

“So you can post it on instagram?” Luke teases.

“Shut up,” you wine, rolling your eyes. “Yes.”

Luke chuckles, sending you the picture before setting his phone down. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who dragged me out.” Saving the photo to your phone you open instagram, adding the picture to your story with the caption ‘puppies really do make bad days better’, tagging Luke in the corner.

“You’re so dramatic,” Luke says, pulling out of the parking lot. “Are you still going to pretend you didn’t have fun?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Thank you, Luke…I do feel a bit better.”

“Good.” Luke turns down another street, seemingly on the way back to your apartment. “Quinn’s just an idiot,” Luke says suddenly. “He’ll come around, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, glancing over at Luke. “I think this is different.”

“Why?”

Shrugging you look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. “Because he’s never been like this before. He’s never been mean to me before, he’s never said things like…that.”

“What did he say?”

“He basically called me a whore…I mean, not directly, but it was easy enough to figure out what he meant. He said that I don’t think about anyone other than myself and that he’s done with me.”

Luke is quiet for a few seconds before looking over at you when he stops at a red light. “What?” he finally mutters.

“Yeah,” you whisper, sniffling quietly. “Maybe it really is just time to move on. I just…I love him so much, I don’t know…it’s hard.”

“He’s an asshole,” Luke mutters under his breath. “I didn’t know that’s what he said to you,” Luke admits.

“I didn’t really want to talk about it,” you tell him with a shrug. “I mean, I guess maybe he’s right, maybe I was flirting with everyone, I don’t know. I’d take it all back, it never even meant anything to me, I didn’t realize it was affecting him like that…I just…I just want him back. Maybe things will never be more than they were before, maybe we’re not meant to be together or anything but to lose him altogether, as a friend…I can’t handle that.” You hadn’t even realized how quick your breathing had grown, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping the tears from your face.

“You’re fine,” Luke assures you, glancing over with a smile so full of pity that it makes you want to hurl yourself out of the car. “Can I, um, can I do anything to help?”

Choking out a breath of laughter between your shaky breaths you shake your head. “No, I don’t think anyone can do anything to help.”

Luke turns into the parking lot of your apartment building, pulling into one of the visitor spots. “Well can I at least come hang out for a bit?”

“I’m not going to say no,” you tell him, picking your purse up from the floor of his car. “But you really don’t have to stay just because I’m sad.”

“You know that I actually like spending time with you, right? I don’t know why you’re acting like I’m doing you a favour.”

“I just don’t think that I’m that fun to be around right now.” Climbing out of his car you fish your keys from your purse, guiding Luke into the building.

“Remember when I had the flu and you spent like a week taking care of me?” Luke asks as he watches you press the button for the elevator. “Was I fun then?”

“I mean it was kinda funny,” you say with a playful smile. “I would never have expected a little flu to take you down so easily.”

“It was bad,” Luke defends, chuckling as he leans against the wall of the elevator.

A few minutes later the doors slide open and you guide Luke to your apartment, kicking off your shoes and heading for the couch. Luke joins you a minute later, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “What do you want to watch?”

“You’re actually going to let me pick?” you ask in shock.

“You’re the one who’s sad,” Luke reminds you, handing the remote to you.

You pick your favourite show on Netflix, pulling your legs up onto the couch and curling up in the corner. You watch the show in silence for a few minutes before looking over at Luke, watching him type something on his phone. “Do you think he ever loved me?” you whisper, a feeling of shame washing over you for even asking the question, of wanting that reassurance.

Luke is quiet for a minute, as if he wasn’t sure how he should reply, like you were a ticking time bomb waiting for the next thing to set you off. “Yes.”

Nodding slowly you turn your attention back to the tv, your vision blurry as you stare through a layer of tears. You didn’t know what else to say, didn’t want to talk about anything else yet you didn’t want to talk about it either. So you remained silent, watching episode after episode till you were beginning to drift to sleep.

“Hey,” Luke whispers, gently shaking your shoulder.

Inhaling sharply your eyes fly open, glancing around in a tired shock. “Hm?” you hum. “What time is it?…How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours,” Luke tells you with a shrug. “I’m going to go home now though, I have practice in the morning. Do you want to come? I’ll give you my bed again.”

Shaking your head you sit up, blinking tiredly. “No, no, that’s okay…thank you though.”

“Are you sure? Are you going to be okay alone?”

“Luke, I’m fine,” you assure him, swinging your legs off the edge of the couch. Standing up you pull him into a hug, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming over today. Text me when you get home, okay?”

Luke waits for you to pull away first before saying goodbye, heading out to drive back to his place. After waking up a bit more you find something for dinner, calling your best friend to talk, needing to get out of your head. You end up talking with her for most of the evening before heading to bed rather early, the intense emotions of the last couple days catching up with you.

The next morning you wake up early, trying to keep yourself busy so that you didn’t fall into the same sadness that you felt the day before. You couldn’t spend the rest of your life wallowing. After having breakfast you take your coffee and grab your laptop, heading to the living room to sit on the couch. You pay a few bills before opening your email, your eyes narrowing in on one email from 1:46am.

Flight Confirmation.

Nervously clicking on it you scroll down, confusion building when you see that it was indeed a flight booked under your name. Then your eyes fall to the destination. Vancouver. Glancing at the date you realize it’s for next weekend, your heart racing.

Picking up your phone you dial the number of the only person you thought would be buying you a flight to Vancouver. You listen to the dial tone for so long you begin to wonder if he wasn’t going to answer at all.

“Hi?” Quinn mutters, his voice groggy and tired.

Looking at the clock you realize how early it still was in Vancouver. “Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“It’s fine,” Quinn mumbles. “Did you get the email?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your eyes not leaving the screen of your laptop. “Why?”

“Because I’m sorry,” Quinn says quietly. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole to you, I shouldn’t have treated you like that and I want to see you. If the date doesn’t work I can change the flight, just let me know when, I figured you have weekends off so I thought it would be better to pick a weekend but I know the flight is Friday morning so if you can’t leave that day I can just-.”

“This weekend is perfect,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry too, Quinn, I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn assures you. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you reply, not expecting your voice to grow shaky in the way it did. “I can let you get back to sleep now.”

“No, it’s okay, I was going to get up soon anyway.”

“Okay,” you whisper, still staring at the flight details on your laptop screen. “You didn’t need to buy me a first-class ticket, Quinn.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Quinn tells you quietly. “You’re going to let Luke get a dog?”

You can’t help but laugh at the question, pushing your laptop off your lap and curling up on the couch, staring out the window across the room. “I can’t really stop him…you’re his big brother though, maybe you should talk him out of it,” you tell him. “How long has he been talking about this?”

“Not long,” Quinn mumbles. “We talked yesterday.”

“Oh,” you whisper, wondering if wanting a dog was the only thing that Luke talked to Quinn about. “About a dog?”

Quinn is quiet for a little too long, your palms growing clammy, realizing that the answer probably wasn’t yes. “About you,” Quinn finally admits. “I um, I saw the Instagram story and called him. I just, uh…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And he told you I’m not?” you ask, though it was more of a statement than a question.

“Not exactly,” Quinn replies. “He did make sure that I knew I was an asshole…not that I didn’t already know that.”

“If you already knew that why have you been refusing to talk to me, Quinn?”

Quinn sighs heavily, silence falling over the line. “Because I was hurt,” Quinn mumbles. “I was hurt and jealous and I don’t know…I just didn’t want to admit that. I’m sorry.”

You wanted to forgive him, wanted to tell him that it was okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay the way he treated you in Michigan, it wasn’t okay the way that the situation had played out since. Dismissing it, telling him it was fine, you knew that wasn’t going to help the situation. You needed to talk about it, to really discuss it. Maybe he was right in booking you the flight, maybe this just wasn’t a conversation that you could have over the phone.

“What should I pack for Vancouver?” you whisper, doing your best to change the topic.

Quinn hesitates a moment, clearly taken aback by the 180 degree change in the conversation. He tells you the plan for the weekend, primarily just that he had a game on Saturday, though he assured you that you didn’t need to go if you didn’t want to. You told him you did, making a mental note to add an outfit to wear to the game to your list.

You talked on the phone for nearly an hour before Quinn had to go, not wanting to be late for practice. You spend the rest of the day preparing for the week ahead, grocery shopping, meal prepping, laundry, all the chores that kept your mind busy.

The week went by slowly, each work day feeling never-ending. The closer you got to your 6am Friday flight the closer your anxiety gets to overtaking your excitement. Of course you wanted to see Quinn, wanted to make up for the months of not even speaking to each other. But you also knew that the point of this trip was to talk about what had happened, a conversation you were dreading having.

Friday morning you wake up at 4am, collecting your luggage and climbing into an Uber half asleep. You’re not fully awake till you’re on the plane, the six hours ahead of you seeming like they were going to stretch on forever.

By the time you landed in Vancouver your heart was hammering so heavily you were worried you might just drop dead of a heart attack right then and there. Your hands were shaky and clammy as you wiggled your carry-on out of the overhead compartment. You follow everyone off the plane, down the long hallway and to the arrivals area of the airport.

Weaving your way through everyone around you stopping to greet their loved ones your eyes scan the crowd of people still waiting. When your eyes land on Quinn you nearly stop walking altogether, your heart stopping for a moment. Three months of not even talking to him made it feel like years of not seeing him. Hesitantly you force yourself closer, not knowing what to expect when you get to him. But as soon as you’re close enough Quinn has his arms around you, pulling you close against him.

“Hi,” you whisper, fingers curling into the fabric of Quinn’s hoodie.

“Hi,” Quinn replies, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “How was your flight?”

“Really good,” you reply. “I’ve never flown first-class before.”

“I’ll make sure you only ever fly first-class from now on.”

“Stop,” you giggle, shaking your head. “A seat on a flight is good enough for me…especially if it means I get to see you.”

“I love you,” Quinn whispers in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. You had been telling each other you loved each other since childhood. In the same way that you told Jack and Luke that you loved them. But your love for Quinn was so different and you weren’t sure what his admission of love entailed. “Should we go get your suitcase?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, nodding quickly, thankful that Quinn had said something to break you from your train of thoughts. Heading to the baggage carousel you wait till you see your suitcase, dragging it off the carousel.

Quinn swoops in quickly, taking your bag from you. “Ready to go?” Quinn asks, gesturing towards the door.

Nodding you follow Quinn through the airport and out into the cool air outside, rain drops hammering onto the sidewalk. “People weren’t lying about how much it rains here,” you comment.

“You can wait here, I’ll bring the car around,” Quinn offers.

Shaking your head you step closer to Quinn. “No, it’s just rain, I’ll survive.”

Quinn slides his jacket off quickly, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your eyes locking with his as he keeps his hands on the jacket wrapped around you. You slide your arms into the sleeves when you realize Quinn is not about to take the jacket back. “Thank you,” you tell him, pulling the fabric around your body. The jacket smells like Quinn, his body wash or cologne or maybe just his laundry detergent, but whatever it was it was it felt comforting, familiar.

Quinn picks up your suitcase again and you follow him through the parking lot, quickly climbing into the dry car. Quinn is in the driver’s seat a moment later, starting the car before looking over at you. “Thanks for coming.”

“I just want to figure this out,” you say quietly, pulling your seatbelt on. Glancing over at Quinn for a moment before you turn your attention back to the drops of rain landing on the windshield. “I can’t lose you, Quinn.”

Quinn reaches over, his hand sliding into yours, squeezing it gently. “I know I fucked up, but I promise you that I’m not going anywhere.”

Sniffling quietly you nod slowly, not entirely sure you believed him. Sure, you were here with him now. But it seemed so easy for him just weeks ago, to tell you that he simply didn’t have any time to talk.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn adds, squeezing your hand again before shifting the car into drive, pulling out of the parking spot.

You remain silent through the entirety of the drive, your mind racing with thoughts that brought tears to your eyes. You knew what was coming. You knew you needed to have a real conversation about what had happened in Michigan, about what was going to happen now. But you didn’t know how it would go, didn’t know what Quinn would say about it, and you were scared that somehow, someway, it would only make things worse.

When you get to Quinn’s apartment building you follow him inside, sliding his jacket off your body and hanging it in the closet by the door. You had never been to his apartment before, almost all of your time together was spent in Michigan.

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat or drink?” Quinn asks, walking into the kitchen.

Shaking your head you rest your hands on the counter, looking over at him. “I think we should talk.”

Quinn nods, sighing quietly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, nodding towards the living room. “Should we go sit down?”

“Sure.” Turning around you walk to the living room, sitting on one end of the large couch. Lifting your legs onto the couch you pull them to your chest, wrapping your arms around them in an attempt to comfort yourself. “I don’t really know what to say,” you admit.

“Me neither,” Quinn agrees, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, eyes focusing on the living room floor. “I know it’s not an excuse but I was so drunk that night,” Quinn begins, glancing over at you. “And I see the way people look at you, the way everyone just falls for you, which I get, but, I don’t know…it’s hard. Seeing you with Alex that day, on the dock, I was jealous,” Quinn rambles.

Nodding slowly you dig your fingers into your legs, forcing deep breaths into your lungs. “But you didn’t have to be so mean to me, Quinn. We could have just talked about it.”

“I know,” Quinn replies quickly, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I don’t have an excuse, I was hurt and drunk.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you whisper, your eyes prickling with tears again. You had never cried so much in such a short period of time, had never expected to. “You know that, right?”

Quinn shrugs, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward to stare at the ground. “Yeah, I mean, I guess.”

“Quinn,” you croak. “What do you mean you guess? I promise the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.”

“Then why did you do it?” Quinn snaps, turning his head to look over at you.

“I-,” you begin, shaking your head. “I don’t know, I really didn’t mean to, nothing I said or did with them meant anything, it was just-.”

“No?” Quinn interrupts with a scoff. “Nothing you did with Alex meant anything?”

“It wasn’t-,” you begin before getting interrupted again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Quinn interjects. “I’m not that fucking stupid. I saw your stories with him, I know when you were going out with Jack and Luke that Alex was there too. I know you went home with him after you guys went out drinking. If you’re going to sit there and tell me that none of that meant anything then maybe none of the stuff you said to me meant anything either.”

“That’s not true,” you plead, eyes glossy with tears. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Quinn. I’m sorry, I really am. Yeah, Alex and I were hanging out but that doesn’t mean what I said to you wasn’t true.”

“If it was true you wouldn’t be fucking one of my friends,” Quinn mutters.

Swallowing heavily you wipe away your tears, shaking your head. “You’re such an asshole,” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m the asshole?” Quinn snaps.

“Yes,” you exclaim, dropping your legs off the couch and standing up quickly. “You called me a whore, Quinn. You said such horrible things and now you have the audacity to get mad at me when I started spending time with someone who actually was nice to me after all that.”

“I did not call you a whore,” Quinn defends, staring up at you from where he was still sitting on the edge of the couch. "I would never say that."

“Maybe you didn’t use that word but how do you think I would take you telling me that I’m flirting with everyone, that I want the attention of every single man around? Do you know how bad that hurt, Quinn? You’re telling me that you’re not sure if you believe I didn’t mean to hurt you but you’re not acknowledging how much you hurt me.”

Quinn is quiet for a few seconds, his eyes falling back to the ground, not looking you in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Maybe you should have thought about someone other than yourself then,” you tell him, repeating his words from that night in Michigan back to him. Maybe you shouldn’t be so petty. Maybe you should have been the bigger person. Maybe you should have let it go. But your heart was racing, your hands clammy, your mind scattered in a million directions and a part of you selfishly wanted him to feel the way you felt that night.

Quinn visibly flinches in response to your words, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry,” Quinn breathes out.

You were already on your way towards his front door, body moving faster than your mind. Grabbing your purse you toss it onto your shoulder, yanking the same jacket Quinn had let you wear earlier off the hanger in the closet.

“Where are you going?” Quinn asks, hopping up from the couch and hurrying over to you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, spinning towards the front door. Your hand lands on the door handle just seconds before Quinn is wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Don’t,” you mumble, yanking your hand away from him. “And for the record, I didn’t sleep with Alex. I’ve never fucked any of your friends. But you can just keep believing whatever you want to believe if it makes you feel better about the way you treated me.” Yanking the door open you head out into the hallway, finding the stairs and hurrying down them.

Outside the rain is still pouring heavily from the sky and you begin walking quickly, continuing till you find a coffee shop. Inside you pull the soaking jacket from your body, laying it over your arm and heading to the till. After ordering yourself a coffee you find a seat tucked away in the corner of the coffee shop, watching the cars passing, the rain drops bouncing off the sidewalk.

You’re not there long before your phone begins vibrating. First with a call from Quinn. Then a text message. Then a couple more calls and a few more texts. Sure, you probably should have replied, but your mind was still racing a million miles an hour. All of your thoughts were so incredibly cloudy that you didn't even know what to say if you were to reply.

Eventually, long after your coffee cup is empty, your phone rings and this time it’s Jack. Sighing you slide to answer it, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” Jack replies with an audible sigh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him honestly, fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on your paper cup.

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, Jack, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Quinn is freaking out,” Jack tells you. “Can you please just call him?”

“No,” you mumble, watching a man walking by with his dog, the dog’s hair plastered to their body with rain. “I want to come home, Jack.”

“Oh my god,” Jack groans. “You two are so fucking annoying.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper, glancing around to make sure nobody in the quiet coffee shop could hear you. “Why would you say that? I haven’t done anything.”

“Both of you need to get over what happened in Michigan,” Jack tells you.

“Tell him that,” you mutter, rolling your eyes to nobody but yourself at that table.

“I did,” Jack exclaims. There’s a few seconds of silence after he says it, unable to think of anything to say. Because he was right, you both needed to be honest. You both did and said things you wished you hadn’t, both made mistakes. “Do you want me to book you a flight home?” Jack finally asks.

“No, it’s okay…thank you though.”

“So are you going to go back to Quinn’s place or do you want me to book you a hotel room?”

“I could book my own hotel room if I wanted to,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

“You’re always complaining that you’re broke,” Jack comments.

“I know how much money you make, Jack, I’m broke in comparison.”

“I’m never buying you drinks again,” Jack replies with a chuckle.

“Please,” you say with a giggle.

“If you go talk to Quinn and figure out whatever is going on with you two and leave me out it, then I’ll consider buying your drinks when we go out again.”

“Fine,” you whine playfully. “What do I even say to him?”

“I don’t know, just go talk to him. I’m sure you two will figure it out.”

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“Why are you scared?” Jack asks, a sudden intensity in his tone.

“What if he never forgives me?”

“Just go talk to him,” Jack sighs. “He’s losing his mind right now, just go talk to him.”

“Fine, I’ll go back,” you groan. Standing up you pick up Quinn’s jacket from the back of the chair, pulling it on. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in this,” you tell Jack, picking up your empty coffee cup to toss it into the garbage on the way out the door.

“It’s fine,” Jack assures you. “Just figure this out, okay?”

“Okay…we’ll try,” you tell him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good luck,” Jack says.

“Thank you,” you say with a sigh, stepping outside. “Bye, Jack,” you say before hanging up. Hurrying through the rain you make your way back to Quinn’s apartment, stopping outside to text him to let him know you were back.

Quinn is down in the lobby a second later, letting you inside. “I’m sorry,” Quinn says as a greeting, reaching over and pulling you into his arms. Your jacket is soaked, seeping into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Let’s just go upstairs,” you mumble, though if you were being honest the last thing you wanted to do was let go of him.

Quinn pulls back, guiding you back into his apartment. You’re quiet as you pull off the jacket, kicking your shoes off a second later. Following Quinn back to the living room you slowly sit down, sighing quietly. “I talked to Jack.”

“I figured,” Quinn mumbles, sitting down across from you. “I’m really sorry.”

“Me too,” you mumble, looking across the couch at him. “I-,” you begin, eyes filling with tears again. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Quinn, I can’t lose you. I love you so much. I don’t know…I don’t know what to do.”

Quinn slides closer to you, pulling you into his arms. “I love you too,” Quinn tells you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Nodding slowly you clutch at Quinn’s arms, holding him tight against you. “I’m sorry for everything I did, everything I said. I promise I’ll never talk to you like that again. I don’t expect you to forgive me right now, I know what I did was horrible.”

“I do,” you whisper, pulling back to look up at him. “I do forgive you, Quinn. I know you’re sorry, I really do. I just need you to stop holding me flirting with other people over me. We weren’t together. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize the way it was making you feel, I really am. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I wasn’t doing it to make you feel bad.”

Quinn reaches down, taking your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “I know we weren’t together, I know you weren’t doing anything wrong and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, reaching up to wipe away a few tears that had slipped from your eyes. You weren’t even sure why you were crying anymore. Relief, exhaustion, an overwhelming level of emotions. “What now?”

Quinn shrugs, glancing over at the TV. “Do you want to go somewhere? Or do you want to just stay here and hang-out?”

“Stay here,” you tell him laughing quietly. You didn’t need a mirror to know that your eyes were swollen and red, that your skin was splotchy from all the tears you had shed. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Quinn assures you, reaching over and picking up the remote. He hands it to you before leaning back on the couch, watching as you turn the tv on. “We can order dinner too, just let me know when.”

Picking up your phone you look at the time. It had been a long day but you were still shocked to see that it was nearing 6pm already. You pick a show, watching an episode before the two of you order dinner. The rest of the evening goes by quickly, most of it spent in relative silence as you watch a few more episodes of the show you had put on.

Eventually Quinn shows you to the guest room and you change into some pyjamas before settling into the bed. You fall asleep easily that night. Maybe it really was just because the bed was so comfortable, but you’re sure there was more to it than that.

When you wake up the next morning Quinn is already gone for morning skate, a note on the kitchen counter letting you know he would be back that afternoon. The note also told you that there was coffee in the cupboard and to help yourself to anything else you wanted. You were almost certain he bought the coffee specifically for you, something you confirmed when you found it unopened in the cupboard. After making yourself a cup you head to the living room, watching TV while waiting for him to get home.

The sound of the front door opening draws your attention just a little after 12pm. “Hey,” Quinn greets, walking over to sit on the couch next to you. “How was your morning? I didn’t want to wake you before I left.”

“It was good, I slept in, that bed is really comfortable,” you tell him, moving closer and wrapping your arms around him. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his arms circle around you, pulling you closer.

“It’s not bad,” Quinn says with a chuckle. “My bed is better.”

“Are you bragging? Because I am your guest and that’s kind of rude,” you tease, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.

“Maybe a bit…but I’m not stopping you from sleeping in it with me so I don't think it's that rude.”

“I don’t know, the last time I slept in a bed with you seemed like the beginning of the whole disaster,” you joke.

“Too soon,” Quinn chuckles, shaking his head. He stands up and reaches down, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. “Come on.”

“Where?” you ask, though you’re in his bedroom before he has the chance to answer you. You watch him lay down on one side of the bed, gesturing for you to take the other side. Walking over you lay down beside him, rolling onto your side to face him. “It is really comfy,” you admit.

“I wasn’t lying,” he tells you with a chuckle. "I do need to have a nap before the game though."

"That's why you brought me in here? To break the new sthat you need to have a nap?"

"Kinda," Quinn admits. "And because I did actually want to brag about the bed."

Rolling your eyes playfully you sit up, looking down at him. "Okay, Grandpa. What 24-year-old gets this excited about a bed?"

"It was expensive," Quinn exclaims.

"I'm sure it was," you reply with a giggle. "Do you want me to tuck you in for your nap before I go or are you okay all by yourself?"

"Get outta here," Quinn jokes, shaking his head.

Giggling you climb off the bed, heading back to the living room to continue keeping yourself busy for the afternoon. It wasn't hard, after an episode of your favourite show you head to the bathroom, finding a towel and hopping into the shower. By the time you're out of the shower Quinn is already up, startling you as you step out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.

"You scared me," you breathe out, clutching the towel to your naked body.

"It's my apartment," Quinn says with a chuckle. "Why are you not expecting me to be here?"

"I thought you'd still be napping. Must need a lot of beauty sleep to look that cute," you tease, stepping past him towards the bedroom.

"We can't all just be naturally cute like you," he comments before you disappear behind the closed door of the guest bedroom. It was such an insignificant comment but you couldn't stop your stomach from filling with butterflies regardless.

Later that afternoon you're in the bathroom, running your fingers through your hair, fixing it slightly. Your eyes shift over your shoulder, seeing Quinn appear in the mirror behind you. Your lips curl into a soft smile, eyes drifting up and down his body. Quinn was always attractive to you but you were more used to Quinn in a t-shirt and shorts at the lake than Quinn in a suit before a game.

“You look good,” you tell him, turning around to look at him. Leaning back against the counter you watch Quinn walk closer. “Very handsome,” you add, running your fingers over the lapels of his suit jacket once he’s close enough to you.

“You look good too,” Quinn mumbles, his hands landing on your hips.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, swallowing heavily. “Can’t believe this is the first time I get to see you play in Vancouver.”

“Hopefully it won’t be the last,” Quinn replies, stepping close enough to cause your heart to hammer heavily in your chest. “You sure you’re going to be okay to get there alone tonight?”

“I’m positive,” you whisper, your eyes flicking down to his lips. Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest you were sure it was about to burst. “Good luck tonight,” you whisper.

Quinn smiles softly, leaning in a little closer. “Thank you,” he mumbles, his lips nearly brushing against yours. You could feel your breath catch in your throat, your hands running up his chest, resting you arms over his shoulders. Just seconds before your lips touch his your phone rings loudly on the counter beside you, making you jump.

Laughing you pull back, pressing your hand over your heart. “Oh my god,” you breathe out, reaching over to silence your phone. “Sorry,” you add with a sheepish smile. “Really ruined the moment there.”

Quinn chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead quickly. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

You couldn’t deny the disappointment you were feeling that the moment really was ending this way. But you knew that Quinn said he was already running late and you weren’t about to make him any later. “Okay,” you whisper, watching him turn around and head out of the bathroom.

You order yourself dinner after Quinn leaves, hanging out by yourself until you needed to head to the arena. The sky is dark already as you climb into the Uber outside Quinn’s apartment building, pulling your seatbelt on.

“Going to the Canucks game?” you Uber driver asks you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Yeah,” you tell him with a nod and a friendly smile. “First Canucks game here.”

“First game ever?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “No, I’ve been to a few before. Never in Vancouver though.”

“Oh, really? Who’d you see play before?”

“Mostly the Devils,” you tell him, realizing the more information you gave the more you would need to explain. “I’m just here visiting a friend.”

“You’re from New Jersey?”

“No, I live in New York now.”

You watch him glance back at you, clearly not following along. “Something against the Rangers?”

“I guess you could say that,” you tell him with a shrug. You’re at the arena shortly after, heading in and finding your seat.

The game passes quickly, your attention on Quinn throughout the entirety of the game. It was different than watching Jack and Luke play. It felt more intense, like the outcome of the game would somehow be an indicator of the outcome of this entire trip.

When the game ends and the Canucks win with a score of 4-2 you can't help but feel a mixture of relief and happiness. It really did feel like a good omen of sorts.

You wait around the arena after the game, doing your best to fill the time till Quinn was ready to leave. You scroll though Instagram, liking post after post till you hit the point of not having a single new thing to look at. Eventually Quinn finds you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations,” you whisper, not pulling back. “You’re even more impressive to watch in person.”

Quinn laughs at your comment, shaking his head. He had always been humble, refusing to accept your compliments. “Do you want to go out for a drink or something? I know it’s kind of late but you flew all the way up here, I don’t want you to just have to stay in my apartment the whole time.”

Giggling you lean up closer, your hands on his shoulders. “I’d be fine staying in your apartment with you the whole time.” You lean in a little closer, lips almost brushing against his. “Doing anything with you,” you whisper.

“You coming out with us or what?” someone calls, making you jump back from Quinn, turning in the direction of the voice.

Quinn places his hands on your hips, pulling your body back against him. “No, I think we’re just going to do our thing.”

The man in front of you chuckles, shooting Quinn a knowing look. “Sounds good, man, see you later,” he says before heading off in the other direction.

Giggling you spin around, looking up at Quinn. “Well, where are we going for drinks?”

Quinn reaches his hand down, sliding it into yours. “It’s a surprise,” he tells you. Guiding you out of the arena and to his car Quinn opens the passenger door for you. You climb into the car, pulling on your seatbelt. A few minutes later you’re on your way, heading downtown.

The lounge Quinn takes you to is small and intimate. The table you’re seated at is equally as intimate, tucked away in the back of the restaurant. Opening the menu your eyes scan over the options, more specifically the prices on that menu. Glancing over at Quinn you watch him look at the menu himself. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the money for the drinks, you just never would have picked a place so expensive yourself. You had also never seen this side of Quinn. You weren’t oblivious, you knew he had money. But you were so used to him with a bottle of some middle-of-the-road beer he picked up at the liquor store on the way to the lake house that you could barely picture him ordering a $25 cocktail.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” Quinn asks before looking up from the menu, an uncertain smile on his face when he realizes that you're already looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head as you look back to the menu. “No, I’m not sure yet. What are you getting?”

“A sazerac, probably,” Quinn tells you with a shrug, the menu already closed letting you know it was most likely more than just probably.

“What’s that?” you whisper, your eyes scanning the menu again.

“Whisky,” Quinn tells you with a quiet chuckle. “Kind of like an old fashioned.”

“Right,” you drawl, nodding slowly. You couldn’t say you were that familiar with the old fashioned either but at least you knew what it was. “I think I’ll try the clover club.”

A few minutes later you order your drinks and you lean back in your chair, gazing across the table at Quinn. Was this a date? You hadn’t even stopped long enough to consider that possibility. You had gone out so, so many times before that you didn’t think the suggestion to go out this time was anything different than that.

“What are you thinking about?” Quinn asks uncertainly.

“You,” you whisper, with a small shrug. “Us,” you add a moment later.

“What are you thinking about us?” Quinn presses, leaning a little closer.

“I don’t really know,” you admit, glancing down at the table for a second. “Do you think there’ll ever be an us to really think about?”

Quinn swallows heavily, silence falling between the two of you as he stares across the small table at you. His silence makes you nervous, shifting in your chair under the intensity of his gaze. “I hope so,” he eventually tells you.

“I-,” you begin, your sentence getting cut short as your server returns with your drinks. She sets a coupe glass in front of you filled with a pink liquid, three perfect raspberries balanced across the top of the glass on a cocktail skewer. “It’s so cute.”

“It’s fitting,” Quinn says, picking up his glass and taking a drink of his own cocktail.

You can’t hold back your smile at Quinn’s comment, rolling your eyes playfully. “Okay, Casanova,” you tease.

“Am I not allowed to flirt with you now?”

Giggling you shake your head, “of course you can,” you tell him before picking up your glass and taking a sip. It’s stronger than you expected, catching you off guard as you slowly set it back down. Maybe that’s why they were so expensive. “I asked for some time off work before I came out here,” you say suddenly, watching Quinn closely, trying to gauge his reaction. Of course it had been presumptuous of you to take the time off before discussing it, but you had the vacation days anyway and you had assumed two days probably wouldn’t feel like long enough.

“Yeah?” Quinn says, reaching over and taking your hand, running his thumb across the back of it. “Does that mean you’re staying longer?”

Shrugging you stare down at your interlocked hands. “Depends if you want me to stay.”

“Of course…I don’t want you to leave yet,” Quinn tells you with a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

“Good, because I don’t want to leave yet either,” you tell him. Picking up your glass you take another sip of your drink, the liquid going down a lot smoother now that you were expecting it.

The two of you sit there at that table for hours, over multiple drinks and a couple appetizers. Your conversation is comfortable, the issues that had brought you to Vancouver in the first place no longer seeming so heavy or intense. Quinn pays the bill at the end of the night and your previous thoughts about the possibility of the evening being a date come flooding back into your mind.

Walking back into Quinn’s apartment you kick off your shoes, sliding your jacket off. “Thank you for tonight,” you say as you hang your jacket in the coat closet.

Quinn glances over at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Thanks for what?”

Shrugging you lean against the wall behind you. “I don’t know…taking me out, showing me a bit of Vancouver, paying for the bill.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Quinn assures you. “I wanted to.”

Reaching over you take Quinn’s hands in yours and pull him in front of you. “Just take the thank you, Quinn,” you whisper.

“Okay, fine…you’re welcome,” Quinn mumbles, staring down at you.

There’s an intensity in the moment, a heaviness in the air. Your heart was racing so fast, stomach filled with butterflies. The apartment is silent, so silent you begin to wonder if Quinn can hear it all. The shakiness in your breath, the hammering of your heart in your chest. The apartment is dim, lit by a single warm lightbulb a few feet away. Your eyes gravitate down to his lips and this time you don’t care how obvious it is.

He begins to lean in and your patience quickly wears thing, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to press your lips to his. His hands land on your hips, pulling them closer to him, your shoulder blades pressing back into the wall. Sliding your hand up you tangle your fingers in his hair, your tongue brushing against his. His grasp on your hips tightens, a quiet moan slipping from your lips.

Your mind was hazy, your emotions overwhelming. Your body was begging for more, his hands on your body felt intoxicating. Sliding your arm over his shoulder you lean your body further into him, desperate to be as close to him as you could, desperate for more. When you pull away it’s to catch your breath, steady the racing of your heart. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too,” Quinn replies, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. He’s smiling when he pulls back, reaching down to take your hand. He guides you into the living room, sitting down and pulling you down beside him. He places his hand on your thigh, fingers just a little too high for your mind not to be filled with less-than-PG thoughts. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I, um, y-yeah,” you stammer. Quinn knows what he’s doing and you can tell by the smirk on his lips as he hands you the remote. Taking it from him you put something on the TV, the very first movie you could find that seemed alright.

You’re not watching the movie long before you feel Quinn’s fingers move on your thigh, a heavy breath escaping your lips. Your eyes flicker down to this hand, watching him brush his thumb on your leg. When you turn your attention to Quinn you see that he’s not watching the movie at all, his eyes are locked on you.

Pushing his hand off your thigh you swing your leg over his body, your hands resting on his shoulders as you lean down to kiss him. It’s fast and eager, your back arching as you roll your hips forward.

“Fuck,” Quinn breathes out as he pulls back. “Baby, you’re…,” he begins, cutting himself off with a strangled moan. You didn’t need him to finish the sentence, you knew what you were doing when you felt him growing hard beneath you.

His hands slide underneath your shirt, his fingers warm against your skin as he slides them up your waist. Pulling back you let him tug your shirt off, dropping it onto the ground beside you. Quinn leans closer, pressing his lips to yours as he unhooks your bra. You feel your bra come undone and you pull back. Your eyes lock with Quinn’s as you slowly slide the bra down your arms. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had seen you naked, but this time it was different. This time you were inviting him to do far more than just skinny dip with you.

Setting the bra down Quinn places his hands on your waist, sliding further down towards the edge of the couch. Leaning in your lips lock with his again, your body begging for more. “Quinn,” you whimper against his lips.

“Yes, baby?” he mumbles, his hands exploring your body, sliding to your hips as he tugs you in a little closer.

“I need you…please,” you whisper.

He doesn’t need you to say anything more, standing up and pulling you with him. He leads you into his bedroom, pushing you across the room till the backs of your thighs hit the mattress. Laying back on the bed you gasp in surprise as he lifts you further onto the bed, hovering over you as he unbuttons your jeans. “Quinn,” you gush.

“What?” he asks with a smirk, pulling your jeans down your legs as you lift your hips to make it easier.

“I just didn’t expect…this,” you tell him, sitting up as you push his shirt up his torso, letting him take over and toss it aside.

“I can slow down,” he offers, running his hands down your thighs.

“No,” you say quickly, giggling at your own eagerness. “Please, don’t,” you add.

Quinn chuckles, nodding as he leans down, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. He moves further up your thigh, and each time his lips brush against your skin your body jolts with desire. Slowly he pulls your underwear down your legs, letting them drop onto the floor. Your breathing is heavy by the time his tongue brushes against the spot that you had been nearly begging for.

“O-oh,” you gasp as he flicks his tongue over your clit. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but whatever it was you weren’t expecting it to feel this good.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, back arching as you moan loudly. “Fuck,” you breathe out, breathing heavily. His hands wrap around your thighs, your fingers curling into the fabric of the comforter on the bed, trying to keep yourself still as waves of pleasure rip through you.

Your body flushes with warmth, desperate to reach your climax as your hips begin to squirm. Quinn presses his arm against your hips, stilling them as his tongue flicks against your clit. “Oh fuck,” you whine, moaning loudly. A second later your muscles are tensing, waves of pleasure ripping through your body. “O-oh my god,” you cry out, flinching away from his tongue when the sensation grows too intense. “Okay, okay,” you mumble, hands cradling his face as you tug him back to your lips. Pressing your lips to his you kiss him deeply, your legs wrapping around his torso. “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Quinn teases.

Your breath leaves your lips shakily, eyes locked with his. “Please…I want you inside of me,” you plead.

Quinn leans in, kissing you gently before climbing off the bed. You watch him open the nightstand, grabbing a condom. You reach over, taking his hand and pulling him towards you, till he was standing in front of where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking up at him you unbutton his pants, slowly pushing them down.

“Fuck,” Quinn breathes out, his hand on the back of your head, fingers weaving into your hair. You slide his underwear off a second later, your hand wrapping around his erection. Leaning down you swirl your tongue around his tip, taking him into your mouth a second later. He lets out a shuttering groan, his fingers grasping at your hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters.

You take him as far into your mouth as you can each time you bob your head up and down, suppressing your gags as your eyes well with tears from the sensation. You can feel the saliva building in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, the saliva dripping down onto your fingers. Moving your free hand to Quinn’s thigh you readjust on your knees, the hardwood floor below you is not particularly comfortable, but the quiet groans he’s making make it worth it.

A few minutes later Quinn pulls back and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, staring up at him. “You’re so beautiful,” Quinn mutters, running his thumb along your bottom lip. He leans down to kiss you again, gentle and slow.

Pulling back Quinn opens the condom, sliding it on quickly. Scooting back on the bed you reach up, grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you. He kisses you passionately as he slides his hand between your legs, fingers brushing over your entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside you. He moves slowly at first, brushing up slightly, sliding another finger inside you a minute later, your moans growing in volume.

He pulls his hand back quickly, wrapping around his dick, sliding himself inside you. It’s slow at first, almost teasing as he watches you beneath him, moaning quietly. “Oh my god,” you whimper, your hands grasping onto his shoulders. “You feel so good inside me,” you whisper as he picks up the speed, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Leaning up Quinn places his hands on the backs of your thighs, gently pushing your legs back further. Sliding your hand down you run your fingers over your clit, Quinn watching you for a moment as your moans grow in frequency. “Oh, fuck,” Quinn groans, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m close.”

Your fingers pick up speed when you hear Quinn say he’s close, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm just a moment later. As your body is overtaken by the familiar tensing of your muscles you cry out in pleasure, your free hand wrapping around Quinn’s bicep, fingers digging into his arm.

Quinn finishes just a minute after you, groaning as his thrusts slow in pace, slowly pulling himself out of you. He leans down and kisses your forehead gently before pushing himself off the bed, heading towards the bathroom as he takes off the condom.

Laying on the bed you stare at the ceiling, trying your best to catch your breath. It had been awhile since you had sex in general but a very long time since you had sex that felt that good. Your hand rests on your bare torso, rising and falling with each heavy breath. You turn your head to the side when Quinn returns, tugging on a pair of underwear before sitting on the bed beside you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him with a giggle. “Really good.”

“Good,” Quinn echoes with a chuckle, leaning down to quickly peck your lips. “I’m going to get us some water, do you want anything else?”

Shaking your head you sit up, tugging your underwear back on. “No, just the water would be great.”

“I’ll be right back,” Quinn tells you, kissing your forehead again before leaving the bedroom.

Pulling the blankets back you slide under them, realizing just how tired you really were. Quinn returns a minute later, setting a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. He joins you in bed, reaching over and pulling you closer. His fingers brush against your back, your arm resting on his chest.

“Was tonight a date?” you whisper.

A soft breath of laughter leaves Quinn’s lips as he tips his head up to look at you. “Well I thought it was but that’s kind of embarrassing if you didn’t.”

Giggling you lift your head, looking up at him. “I didn’t know but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it to be.” Rolling over you slide one leg over his body, straddling him as you lean in, your lips hovering over his. “We can call it a date but I don’t usually kiss on the first date and look at where tonight went,” you joke.

“Well I’m definitely looking forward to the second date then,” Quinn replies with a chuckle, his hands on your hips as he rolls you off of him to hover over you. “I’ll make sure you know it’s a date next time,” he says with a smirk, kissing you gently. “Get you some flowers or something.”

“Ooh,” you say with a giggle, running your fingers along his arm. “I love flowers.”

“I’ll get you all the flowers you ever want.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so romantic, Quinn,” you tease, leaning up to peck his cheek.

Quinn shrugs, settling onto the bed beside you. “I’m not normally.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you shake your head. “Okay…whatever you say.”

“I’m being serious,” Quinn assures you with a quiet laugh.

Turning your head your eyes meet with his and you realize he’s not joking. “Well please don’t stop, I like it.”

“I won’t,” Quinn promises, leaning over and kissing your forehead gently.

Smiling softly you curl in closer to Quinn, letting your eyes fall shut as you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest under your hand. It doesn’t take long for you fall asleep in his arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment that extends into your dreams, lulling you into a deep sleep.

Your eyes flutter open the next morning, rolling onto your side in the dim bedroom, the blinds blocking out the early morning light. “Good morning,” you whisper when you watch Quinn’s eyes open, turning on his side to face you.

Quinn reaches over, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Morning,” he mumbles with a tired smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good,” you whisper, unable to contain your own smile. “Did you sleep okay?” Rolling onto your stomach you move closer to him, resting your arm on his chest.

“Yes,” Quinn replies, his hand sliding down to rest on your lower back. “Was last night okay?”

“More than okay,” you assure him, drawing imaginary shapes on his chest with your fingertips. “What do you want to do today?” you ask him, knowing it was one of very few days where he wasn’t doing something for hockey.

Quinn shrugs, brushing his thumb along the skin of your lower back, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. “Anything as long as it’s with you.”

“What a coincidence…that’s also what I want to do today.”

You spend most of the morning in the apartment, not going more than a few minutes here and there without touching each other in some manner. Brief kisses here and there, a hand on your back, your arms wrapped around him. The afternoon brings you out of the apartment and into the streets of Vancouver, Quinn showing you around the rainy city.

You spend the rest of the week at Quinn’s apartment. Watching movies on the couch, making dinners, going to another one of his games, afternoons spent at his kitchen table working through projects your laptop. You spent a night alone there when he had a road game, curled up on the couch in one of his t-shirts, watching the game on the TV in his living room. Everything felt so comfortable, so normal. Like this was the life you were supposed to be living. Just you and Quinn in an apartment together.

But no matter how good it felt you knew it wasn’t going to last. You had to go home, had to get back to your job and the classes that you were barely keeping up with online. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to continue living in this blissful state with Quinn, it just wasn’t reasonable.

Your time in Vancouver had to come to an end, the time slipping by so much faster than normal. Before you knew it you didn’t have another day or even another night together.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, the lights in the airport feeling too bright, the air a little too cold, the bustling of people a little too loud. “Well,” you whisper, blinking quickly as you glance around, at anything and everything but Quinn. You were certain that if you looked at him a little too long you wouldn’t be able to keep it together. “I, um, I guess I should go…don’t want to miss my flight,” you mumble, though if you were being honest you wouldn’t be too upset if you did miss your flight.

Quinn nods, reaching over and pulling you into him. The two of you stand there in silence, neither one wanting to pull back, not wanting the inevitable to happen. “I’m going to miss you.”

Sniffling quietly you curl your fingers into his hoodie. “Me too,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your hands still on his arms. “Don’t get too busy that you can’t talk to me when I call,” you joke, a sad breath of laughter following. Reaching up you wipe away your tears as you take a small step back.

“Never,” Quinn assures you, a clear hesitation as he lets you go. “Have a good flight.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, slowly turning around and heading towards the security line. You don’t look back, didn’t want him to see the stream of tears that you had been holding in all morning running down your cheeks. You fight through your emotions till you're through security, finding yourself a seat to hide away from the rest of the world as the sleeves of your hoodie grow damp with the tears you’re wiping from your face.

Who would have thought that leaving on such great terms would be just as hard as leaving thinking you were never going to see him again.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #quinn hughes imagine

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds.

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen.

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks.

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him.

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds.

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright.

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too.

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there.

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age.

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs.

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk.

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?”

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?”

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion.

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday.

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table.

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?”

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better.

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!”

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle.

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water.

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher.

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass.

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed.

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself.

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days.

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you.

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track.

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons:

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you.

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace.

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words.

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back.

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt.

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them.

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room.

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie.

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same.

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side.

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore.

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had.

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot. “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss.

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

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@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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togrowoldinv · 5 months

Text

Sinking Sand

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Wanda finds her way back into your life and you can’t resist her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, needy Wanda, oral (W receiving), thigh riding, Wanda being 🔥

Note: I woke up thinking about her so here we go. Enjoy!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear a knock at your door. You look through the glass and are surprised to see the woman you broke up with last week.

Actually, you’re not sure if you can even call it a break up. You were never really dating. Just keeping each other company, or at least that’s what she called it.

That misconception of what you were ultimately led to the end of whatever it was. Or so you thought. Why would Wanda be at your door anyway, you wonder.

For better or worse, you open the door for her. Wanda has a smile on her face, but you don’t reflect it.

“What are you doing here?” You ask her.

“I missed you,” Wanda says simply.

“You don’t get to say that,” you reply. “Not after last week.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart. Can’t we just go back to what we’re good at?”

Wanda crosses the threshold of your apartment. You sigh and shut the door. She’s not going to make this easy.

“Shouldn’t you be off with your ex husband?” You ask her.

“Honey, I am not sleeping with him,” Wanda says.

She takes off her coat to reveal a gown that is definitely not meant to be worn out in public. You curse yourself for letting your eyes drop to her breasts.

“Well, we’re not sleeping together either,” you try and hold your ground.

She sees your stance slipping though. Like a house built on sand, you won’t withstand the storm that is Wanda.

Wanda sits on your couch and doesn’t have the decency to cross her legs. You know she’s not wearing panties under that gown. She never is.

“Come here, sweetheart,” she says, catching your gaze. She pats the spot next to her but you sit further away.

Wanda scoots closer to you and closes the gap. Her thigh brushes against your leg. You try not to react, but she knows what she does to you.

“How- um- how are the boys?” You try to distract her and yourself.

“Just fine,” Wanda replies. She leans in closer and is just inches from you. “Their mommy needs some help though.”

“Wanda,” you warn. “We called this off.”

“So let’s call it back on,” Wanda brushes off the seriousness of your tone. “Please, baby. Would you deny me this?”

Wanda’s lips move to your neck. She leaves hot, open mouthed kisses there as she grabs your hand. She takes your hand to guide it where she wants it.

You can’t take it anymore, so you stand up from the couch. Wanda groans in frustration.

“Y/n,” Wanda says. She reaches her hand out for you. “It’s okay. Come back.”

“Wanda, this back and forth is not healthy.”

“But we were having fun, y/n.”

“Wanda, it’s not about fun. You need to start acting your-“ you stop yourself short of calling her out for the obvious.

“My what?” She stands up and walks to you. You take steps backwards until you’re pressed against the wall. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

“It’s nothing, Wanda,” you say. “Forget it.”

“It’s not nothing,” she says. She pins your arms to your side and slips her leg between yours.

“It’s just- you’re older than me,” you say, not quite making eye contact. Wanda grips your face to make you look at her.

“I thought you liked that I’m older than you,” Wanda says. Her voice comes out a low growl. “That I’m a desperate mother who needs you to make her feel so fucking good.”

“I did like that, but-“

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Wanda says.

She takes control and kisses your lips. You let her deepen the kiss. When her tongue brushes against yours, you realize that any resolve you had is gone. You’re doing this.

“I want you to fuck me so hard,” Wanda says between kisses. “I missed the way only you make me feel.”

You feel on fire on at her words. Pushing her back to the couch, you lift her gown over her head. She’s not wearing any undergarments, as you suspected.

You kiss every inch of her. Her collar bone that perfectly frames her body, her silky neck, her nipples, the perfect valley between her breasts, all the way down to her dripping pussy.

“Fuck,” Wanda moans as you bury your face between her legs. “Please baby.”

“I’ve got you, Wanda,” you say against her.

The whines Wanda lets out are the best sounds you’ve ever heard. You missed making her like this. She unfolds under your touch.

You take her clit into your mouth and Wanda’s hips move to be impossibly closer to you. She puts her hand on your head to push you closer into her. Your hand reaches up to grip Wanda’s breasts.

“I’m so close, sweetheart,” Wanda says. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Wanda’s movements become erratic before she comes hard against your mouth. You don’t move your mouth away until Wanda is pushing you away.

“Fuck, baby,” Wanda says. Her voice is breathy.

You kiss her lips and she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. Wanda pulls you up onto her lap and you straddle her lap.

Even through your pants, you feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. Wanda taps your hips and you stand up. She unbuttons the pants and kisses your lower belly with every second she spends on taking your pants off.

Wanda pulls your underwear down with your pants and brings you back to her lap. Your core brushes against her thigh. She doesn’t miss the way you shudder.

“Wanda,” you breathe out.

“Do you want to fuck yourself on mommy’s thigh?” Wanda asks, her voice dripping with lust.

“Please,” you say.

Wanda’s hands help move your hips over her thigh. You kiss her as you grind against her thigh. It’s hard to breathe but you don’t mind.

This reminds you how much you love being with Wanda. She has a way of making you feel like the only person in the world.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. I feel so good,” Wanda says. “You’re so wet. I want you to come against my thigh.”

“Fuck,” you mumble against her lips.

Wanda moves your hips quicker and you come hard against her thigh. You bury your face into the place between her shoulder and neck. The perfect place to be.

She kisses your head and holds you close. You remember this part too. She makes you feel loved even though it’s no more than hooking up.

“Y/n, thank you for opening the door,” Wanda says. You nod against her. “Can we do this again?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Wanda says.

She smiles to herself as you rest in her arms. Maybe next time she’ll tell you that she felt like it was more than just a hook up. But for now, she’ll be here to make you feel good over and over again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut

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simpforrooster · 3 months

Text

i love when you call me pete.

pete ‘maverick’ mitchell x f!reader

t/w: mentions of an age gap, some smooching. drunk!maverick

summary: maverick almost drunkenly tells reader how he feels about her

a/n: lowercase intended! wrote this on my phone and have autocaps off xD two fics in one day!!!

maverick laughs as jake, one hand over his own eyes, takes aim at the dart board.

jake hits a bullseye. mav pulls out his wallet, and reluctantly hands jake a folded bill. your eyes roll at the captain’s stupidity. jake never misses a bullseye.

the guys surely hustled the poor man. mav’s hand falls on jake’s shoulder as he finishes off his beer.

“how long are you gonna stare at him?” phoenix asks with a raised brow.

“i am not staring,” you counter, knowing full well that you are indeed staring.

not that you could help it. the man may be twice your age, but he’s hot. even phoenix, happily engaged to bob, gets her an eye full of the elder captain.

you wipe down the bar in front of phoenix and hand her another lemon drop. tucking the rag in your back belt loop, you turn to hand another regular their drink.

ever since penny hired you, you’ve managed to take care of the bar almost as good as she does. she lets you take on the slower days of the week alone, and the two of you manage the weekend crowds together.

once everyone has been taken care of, you turn your attention back to your friend. you catch her admiring her ring. she looks up at you with a grin.

“sorry,” she shrugs. you shake your head.

“no indeed. i’d be gawking at that rock all day if it was mine.”

“you know you said that entire sentence looking at him and not me, right.”

you startle. she’s right. you’d basically been undressing maverick with your eyes. imagining your left hand heavy with a ring.

“you’re impossible,” she laughs.

your heart picks up its pace as maverick saunters, or better yet, sways up to the bar.

“four more, please. on my tab, babe.” maverick holds up five fingers, a giant grin on his face.

babe?

you lean over the bar and lay his thumb back against his palm. “that’s four.”

maverick looks down at you and then back to his hand. a chuckle falls languidly from his lips. “you’re right.”

phoenix raises a brow at you, out of sight from mav, who is looking at you like you’re his center of gravity.

“have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?” maverick says, still holding up those four fingers. the comment turns your insides into jelly.

“are you drunk, pete?” you ask him. there’s no way he’d be saying any of this if he were sober.

his hand falls to the bar top and his eyes fall closed. he stands there a moment, gathering himself, you assume.

his eyes open, those blue irises almost knocking you off your feet with how intense they look at you.

“i may be drunk, but that doesn’t mean i’m lying about you being gorgeous.”

phoenix grins at you over his shoulder, maverick completely oblivious to her.

no, he’s definitely only noticing you. every moved you’ve made, he’s tracked it. well, as well as he can given that he’s shitfaced.

maverick shrugs a shoulder. “maybe sober me is just nervous to tell you that.”

“pete,” you breathe. “you’re a naval aviator. there’s no way i make you nervous.”

“god, i love how you say my name,” he admits. before he can say anything else, jake and rooster appear at his side.

“come on, pops, we’ll get you home.” the men each take an arm, seeing as maverick can hardly remain upright.

he tries to shake them off. “i can’t go until i ask y/n out.”

your hand comes up to your mouth, your heart picking up pace again.

“let’s try tomorrow, mav,” rooster murmurs to his godfather. maverick vehemently shakes his head.

“no. i have to tell her now. i have to tell her i—,”

“oh no you don’t,” jake says, forcing maverick away from the bar. “you will not finish that sentence until you’re sober. she doesn’t deserve a drunk admission.”

rooster shoots you an apologetic look, handing you his card to close out the three of their tabs. you move on autopilot. punching in the men’s names, clicking on them, swiping the card, repeat. you hesitate on pete’s account. god, he did have a lot to drink.

that’s all that was. drunken words. he won’t remember any of this in the morning.

once the men are out the bar and pete is loaded in the back of the bronco, you turn to phoenix.

“what the fuck?” she screeches.

“i told them not to let him approach her with as far gone as he was,” bob comments, saddling up in the barstool next to his fiancé.

“what are you talking about, bob?” you ask.

bob shares a look with phoenix.

“you’re nuts if you’ve never seen the way he looks at you.”

“please don’t get my hopes up, bob,” you tell the bar, already fearful of those hopes plummeting once maverick comes to his senses and takes everything that just happened back.

you close out the remaining people at the bar. phoenix and bob hang around with you, walking you to your car once you’ve got the hard deck locked up.

the dagger squad take turns staying with you when you have a closing shift. they’re more protective of you than a set of new parents.

you hug your friends goodbye and drive to your apartment.

the next morning, your doorbell wakes you up with a start.

literally rolling out of the bed, you hit the floor tangled in your sheets. the doorbell chimes again. searching for a pair of pants, dread fills you as the doorbell rings once again.

what could be so urgent at..7 am?!

your mind runs through every possibility.

the doorbells chimes for a forth time just as you throw the door open, shrieking, “what?!”

pete mitchell stands on your stoop. he looks like hell. the two of you stare at one another, while pete grips the flowers he’s holding with a death grip.

you open the door wider, silently inviting him in. he follows you to the kitchen and settles at your island. the silence in the room thickens as you set to work making coffee. you feel his eyes on you the entire time.

“listen, y/n,” maverick starts, but you cut him off, sharply holding up a finger. you fish two mugs from your cabinet. you fill his mug to the brim, spooning two teaspoons of sugar in it. you fix yourself a little coffee with your creamer. setting the coffee in front of him, you step back and lean against the counter across him.

waving your hand, you tell him to proceed.

“i’m so sorry about last night,” he says, finally laying the flowers down. he runs his hands down the front of his jeans, wiping away the sweat.

“if you’re about to take it all back, i really don’t want to hear it, mav,” you tell him.

“mav..” he repeats to himself, looking at your counter top. “last night you called me pete.” he brings his eyes to yours.

you stare at him. okay, he remembers that.

“i don’t want to take any of it back, y/n.”

your breath catches at the back of your throat.

“i want to apologize,” he continues. “you didn’t deserve a drunken admission. i was being cowardly. because believe it or not, you’re ten times scarier than an f-18.”

when you say nothing, he keeps on.

“i know how to handle an f-18. i know what makes it work, how to get it back on track. i know that plan inside and out.” he takes a breath. “i don’t know how to navigate this. you.”

“me?”

“you. god, y/n. you have the ability to wreck me to my core. and i have so terrified to admit my feelings to you.”

“come on, pete, you can’t mean that,” you tell him, folding in on yourself.

“of course i do. the guys told me talking to you drunk was a bad idea. i thought i could handle it, but you just looked so gorgeous, i couldn’t help it.”

you are fully aware of how you looked last night during that fiasco. and gorgeous surely wasn’t it. not with your tank top and cut offs. and you know your hair had to be a mess. it always was at the end of a shift.

maverick rises from his stool. coming around the kitchen island, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking terrified as he walks over to you.

“i am sorry i tried to do this shitfaced,” he whispers, a breathe away from you. “tell me i didn’t ruin anything.”

he’s never stood this close to you, and it’s doing odd things to your heart.

“you didn’t ruin anything, pete,” you tell him. his eyes drop down to your mouth, silently asking permission. you nod, not trusting your voice to not betray how much you want this.

maverick pins you to the counter, his hands on either side of you, holding his weight off you. you speed him up by balling your hand in his shirt and pulling him down to you.

maverick grins as his mouth meets yours, falling back into his normal self. you can fill the confidence flowing through him as his hands move from the counter to your body.

his expert hands fall exactly where you need them. he deepens the kiss, his tongue running along your bottom lip. opening up to him, he pulls you tight against his body.

“fuck,” he breathes against your lips.

“tell me about it,” you murmur.

he plants tantalizing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“pete,” you moan. he tightens his hold in response.

“i love it when you call me pete,” he says, returning his kisses to your mouth.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell imagine #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x y/n #maverick x you #maverick fanfic #maverick imagine #maverick x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 19 days

Text

All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it.

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled.

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying.

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother.

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed.

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again.

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at?

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether.

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet.

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life.

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short.

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up!

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up.

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings.

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end.

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice.

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?”

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.”

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.”

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?”

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?”

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.”

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos.

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly.

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones.

“Yep, er, bye.”

“Bye--”

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom.

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee.

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.”

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?”

“Tomorrow,” you utter.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes.

“At noon.”

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.”

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.”

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?”

“What?”

“The interview.”

“Oh, at the casino.”

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?”

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.”

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.”

“Mom, you don’t have to--”

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.”

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking.

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” she trills.

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing.

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit.

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve.

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy.

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her.

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say.

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?”

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?”

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?”

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.”

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.”

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.”

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around.

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it.

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb.

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?”

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.”

“I... guess.”

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.”

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other.

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back.

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug.

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.”

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet.

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out.

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #series #captain america #winter soldier

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

i am also sick and now dreaming of comfort from Steve :( hereby requesting a sick fic with Steve and gn!reader pls and thank you (when/if you feel like it!!)

Thanks for requesting babe <3

Steve Harrington x gn!reader ♡ 915 words

When Steve knocks for the third time, you relent.

You cover your mouth and nose with your blanket as you open the door and block the entrance with your arm. “Don’t come in here,” you warn.

Steve pushes past your arm easily. He’s carrying a small plastic bag. “How am I gonna make your soup from out there, genius?”

“Steve, I’m serious,” you say, though you close the door behind him before tailing him into the kitchen. “You don’t want to catch this.”

He sets his bag on the counter and turns on you. You’re not prepared for his hands on your face, cool and unbelievably soothing. He frowns. “I can tell," he says. "Has it been this bad all week?”

You’re so tempted to fall asleep in the safe haven of his palms that it takes you a second to answer.

“Pretty much,” you admit.

Steve hums and thumbs a line down your cheek. “I should have come sooner.”

“You shouldn’t be here now,” you say, but the fight is going out of you with every second of tenderness. You’ve been pathetically lonesome this last week, filling your home with tissues and discarded dishes while telling Steve over the phone that you weren’t that sick and then indulging in copious amounts of self-pity while walking to the store to restock on drugs and cough drops.

“You should’a had someone to take care of you,” Steve argues gently.

“I’m fine.”

His smile is wry. He lets his hand slip down to your shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before turning around. “Maybe I’ll start to believe you when you can say that without all your consonants sounding like bs and ds,” he says, rustling through his bag. “Deal?”

You sigh but follow him to the stove, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the counter. “What are you making?”

“Harrington family recipe.” Steve holds up a box of noodle soup mix. “Water and sodium.”

You start to laugh but it turns into coughing, horrific, racking coughs that you hide in your blanket. Steve’s hand lands on your back, tentative and then firm as he rubs between your shoulder blades.

“Jesus,” he says softly. “You okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak as the fit dies down.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” He sounds concerned. “I’ll meet you in there.”

You want to stay but your cough drops are in the bedroom, so you shoot your boyfriend a lame thumbs-up as you go. Every cough ignites a brood of aches, your throat and chest and temples each throbbing with their own special brand of hurt. The one in your temples sticks around the most. You grab a washcloth after popping a cough drop in your mouth, dampening it with warm water and laying it across your eyes while you lay down on the bed.

You’re still trying to suppress your cough despite the lozenge when Steve comes in. When you move the washcloth to see him, he looks upset.

“Your head hurts?” he asks, so concerned you really could cry.

“It’s just my sinuses,” you say, like that makes it better. “Is that my soup?”

“Yeah, but it’s too hot to eat.” He leans forward, setting the steaming bowl on your nightstand. “You wanna face massage for now?”

You blink. “Are you serious?”

Steve grins, suavish and yet sweet beneath that. “Yeah, honey. Close your eyes.”

You do. Steve’s hands on your face aren’t a surprise this time, but the effect is about the same. You relax, instinctively, before he’s even done anything, and when he starts pushing at the skin just above your eyebrows with his thumbs, you actually sigh.

He laughs. “Good?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is breathy and embarrassing, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

“Hey, I know things, okay?” Steve feigns offense, but he’s no good at hiding the pride in his tone. “I’ve been sick before, too.”

“Thank you. I owe you my life for this.”

His voice softens. “Don't sweat it. Just relax for a bit, yeah?”

It’s not a hard direction to follow. Steve’s thumbs are firm but kind as they press into your forehead and the areas around your eyes. You imagine your skin moldable as wax, his touch smoothing out the crackly lines of your sinuses until they’re soft and supple.

“Can I say something stupid?”

You crack an eyelid, sniffling. “Sure.”

“I’m feeling, like, weirdly protective of you right now.” Your surprised laughter launches you into another hacking fit, and Steve’s own smile is guilty as lets go of your face, rubbing your shoulder. “Seriously! I couldn’t give a shit if I’m going to get sick. You look all sad and vulnerable, I feel like a bear or something is going to come in here and you’re too weak to protect yourself, so now it’s my job.”

“You w—” You press a hand to your chest, tiny tears squeezing out of the corners of your eyes. “—wouldn’t have protected me from a bear before?”

Steve grins. “And your voice sounds hot like this, too.”

Your coughing worsens again. You shoot him a look to say Stop making me laugh, but you don’t really want him to.

“This is what does it for you?” you croak.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, there are silver linings.”

You don’t argue as Steve unwraps another cough drop and passes it to you, placing it in your mouth as he resumes his work on your headache. You suppose there are.

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nicestgirlonline · 1 year

Text

dumb dumb

Pairing: Bucky x Dumbass!Reader

Warnings: none! lots of fluff ahead!!!

Summary: Everyone can see the huge crush Bucky has on you...everyone except you of course.

Word Count: 3.7k and counting because I truly am incapable of being brief

A/N: This is for week one’s writer activity for @the-slumberparty the I Spy Challenge! I included all three of the items they shouldn’t be too hard to spot! I hope you enjoy it! Unbetaed, forgive me! Feedback is always appreciated :)

Update 2/17: You guys asked and now there's a Part 2

Typically it was Team Cap that were the first people awake in the Avengers Compound. Steve, Sam and Bucky were still on a soldier's schedule, usually getting up at 5 to work out before getting breakfast.

So it was a bit of a surprise when they entered the kitchen to see the coffee was already brewed and you were helping yourself to a bowl of cornflakes. You were a Stark Industries biochemical engineer and judging from your lopsided ponytail and your rumpled clothes, you had ended up sleeping in the lab. Again. Steve checked his watch, it was barely past 6.

“Good morning! Another late night?” Steve asked.

“Morning Cap! Yeah, the thing about stomach acid is it's so fascinating I lost track of my time while studying it.” You cover your mouth to hide a yawn.

“I think maybe only you think that.” Sam said, making you giggle a bit. Bucky entered the kitchen slightly later than the other two. His hair was damp and he had a towel wrapped around his neck, freshly showered. Steve definitely noticed that Bucky had started to insist on showering before breakfast right after the first time they discovered Y/N in the kitchen.

“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted, internally cringing at how loud you were. He was taken aback each time he saw her in the morning. The usually coordinated assassin bumped into the side of the breakfast bar with his hip and winced.

“Morning.” he mumbled and gave a little wave before immediately heading to get some coffee, walking off the bump. Sam and Steve both glanced at each other.

“You should kick Bucky’s ass, it’s his samples keeping you up at night,” Sam joked. You blushed and filled your mouth with more cornflakes. You’d specifically been studying well, all of Bucky? The effects of Dr. Erskine’s serum on his body mixed with the cryosleep and the other HYDRA experiments was a vast array of knowledge to tap into.

“It's not his fault I’m bad at time management. I really should stop doing this though. I'm sure my apartment misses me.” You say quickly as Bucky silently fixes himself breakfast. He pulls out the bagels and cream cheese with a bit more anger than usual. He sent Sam a glare but didn’t say anything.

“Well if you’re here less, we’ll start missing you, won’t we Buck?” Steve asked. Both of them knew about Bucky’s soft spot for the scientist, too bad he didn’t seem like he was ever going to do anything about it.

Bucky didn’t really answer, just sort of muttered something. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear trying to hide a blush.

“I'm sure Bucky won’t miss me. He’s gotten enough of me poking and prodding him.” You said hoping it came off as a light joke. While Bucky had been very willing to provide all of the samples you’d asked for, you secretly were starting to feel like you were no better than HYDRA in his eyes…

“And stealing my blood for science?” Bucky asked, his tone still grim. “‘S’not so bad when you do it.” He gave a small smile that he hid behind a sip of coffee. Steve remained quiet a moment, hoping either of you would make a move but both of you stayed blushing and looking in other directions.

“Say, I was wondering to get your opinion on something. If there was a fella who was trying to get something nice for a lady friend, are flowers too old fashioned?”

“A lady friend? Steve, are you dating someone?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny. But humor a hundred year old guy for a second here. If someone were trying to catch the eye of a modern woman such as yourself, would he have to buy you flowers, chocolates, diamond necklace?” He asked. You thought about it for a moment tapping your chin.

“Gosh, not diamonds for me! I can’t wear any jewelry in the lab. I think flowers are nice! Everyone likes getting flowers sometimes. Maybe I should get some flowers for the whole lab, with Valentine's Day coming up and all.”

Bucky smiled to himself. You were just the sweetest person he’d ever met. Always thinking about others. Steve of course caught the face and Bucky quickly turned away, trying to go back to neutral. It was such a stupid little crush, nothing more.

You felt like your back might snap in half, that lab cot was really not optimal. You’d ended up staying in the lab past midnight and at that point it was easier to just crash than bother driving home. You’d had to redo nearly all of your samples from yesterday, after your acid experiment melted nearly all the pipettes in the lab. You were probably going to have to get some more cheek swabs from Bucky too.

You bit your lip. It was nice to have him in the lab so much. He didn’t talk a lot but he was always awfully sweet when he did. He also didn’t seem to mind your science babble. It was safe to say you’d developed a bit of a crush over the past few months. Too bad there was absolutely no way he felt the same way about you. He was a gorgeous Avengers for chrissake, he wasn’t going to date a dorky scientist who was studying the acid in his stomach.

Speaking of the devil, when you got up to stretch a bit you were taken back by a face full of flowers, you leaped back in surprise.

Bucky, wearing his sweatsuit like he had just gotten back from a run, was carrying a huge bouquet of pink and purple flowers. His face as usual was unreadable. You placed your hand on your now racing heart.

“Bucky! I didn’t hear you come in!” You said as you regained your footing.

“Uh sorry about that. Kind of a habit. Assassin.” He said with a shrug. The two of you stood in silence with the beautiful flowers separating you. Both of you taking in the other.

Can’t believe he looks so handsome while I’m sitting here looking like an absolute wreck

Can’t believe she looks so cute in the mornings while I’m in here looking like a creep.

“These are beautiful!” You gesture to the flowers snapping the two of you back to reality. He half smiled and took a deep breath, ready for the little speech he'd prepared to go along with the ridiculous bouquet.

“Yeah uh, I was just thinking about what you and Steve were talking about yesterday, with Valentine’s Day and all—“ He began.

“It’s so nice that you got these for the lab!” You cried out taking them from his hands. Yesterday you had mentioned getting flowers for the whole lab, that must be what Bucky was referencing.

“I…did. I did get these for the lab.” He said the smile now disappearing and back to his usual grumpy/ neutral expression. Some people found it a bit off putting but you had grown accustomed to it.

“The techs are gonna flip, an avenger bringing us flowers! This is gonna brighten up the break room.” You squealed happily. It broke your heart a little, secretly hoping they had been for you. The gesture was really appreciated. Maybe he really didn’t mind all of your little experiments so much!

“I’m glad you like them.” He said. He sounded genuine but he looked so sad. You quirked your eyebrows, hoping that you’d be able to cheer him up if he stayed. “Yeah so I’m gonna go now.”

He quickly turned his hands in his pockets.

“Oh you can stay—” You called after him but he was basically out the door.

“I’ve got to go on a run.” he called back.

“Oh.” you said to yourself as the door shut behind him. You clearly had been wrong, no way did Bucky like you at all.

“Hey there I got a huge bunch of flowers for the lab. Because I think the lab is beautiful. And the lab is smart and funny. I really like talking to the lab even though I have no idea what the fuck to even say half the time.”

“Talking to yourself again?” Steve asked, finally catching up with Bucky who had taken off at a mad man’s pace.

“Eavesdropping again punk?”

“Flowers didn’t go over too well? I take it?”

“Not talking about it.” Bucky said picking up speed. Steve easily matched his pace, refusing to let his friend get away.

“Maybe you should just ask her out. You used to be pretty good at that. Being charming.” Steve suggested. Bucky picked up speed again and Steve followed, the two of them now pushing hard. Nearly too hard for conversation.

“Will you drop it?” Bucky grunted. There was no way she liked him. Why would she anyway? She was a beautiful, brilliant scientist and he was the grumpy old meanie avenger.

“Just trying to help.” Now Steve was pissed, he pushed harder trying to pass his best friend.

“Stay out of it.” The two super soldiers ran on, lapping poor Sam a shameful amount of times.

Used to be charming. Used to be? Bucky scoffed. He’d show them. He was present day charming.

You really needed to work on your time management, you checked your watch and it was already 3 o clock and you hadn’t even had lunch yet. You were out of lab snacks too, so you decided to break for a quick lunch.

You assumed you’d be in the kitchen on your own but entered to see Bucky with a cup of instant noodles. He was mid slurp when you waved hello. You went straight to the pantry to grab the basics for a PBJ. You could hear lots of coughing as you turned.

“You’re not choking right? Do you need the heimlich?” You asked only half jokingly. You’d certainly do whatever you could to help him.

You turned back and Bucky was a bit red in the face but breathing normally again.

“No. S’fine. Went down the wrong pipe.” He grumbled waving his hand as you went back to your sandwich.

“Everyone loves the flowers. By the way, really made our week.” You took a seat across from him. Bucky straightened up a big and cleared his throat for the final time.

“Glad to hear it.” He smiled. You smiled back.

There was a beat of silence. You looked down at your food, then back to Bucky only to discover he had done the same. You were looking into each other's eyes.

“It was really so thoughtful.” You hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

“Well I was thinking of you when I saw them.” He said softly. Your heart soared. That was the sort of softness that you only heard from him in a few special moments.

“Tony is having a screening of The Princess Bride. For Valentine's Day. As a treat to the company. Great movie, if you haven’t seen it.” You said very quickly. Not sure what was compelling you to tell him about it. It was one of your favorite movies and you were really excited to go to the screening until another scientist in your lab had asked you if you were bringing a date. It hadn’t occurred to you that the romance movie screening on Valentine's Day was going to be a mostly couples event.

“I haven’t.” Bucky said. You were about to suggest he check it out when he continued “We should go. Together.”

“Ok! Yeah! Yes we should go! Wow, that will be so much fun!” You could hardly believe it! Had your gambit worked? Subtly bringing up the movie with the hopes he’d come with you?

“Uh cool, should I uh pick you up at the lab?” He seemed just as excited as you. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so smiley actually.

“Yeah, I’ll have to bring my duffle bag so I have a change of clothes. I have this dress that looks like Buttercup’s — she’s a character in the movie. I should have more clothes here anyway. I hate my work clothes. And maybe a blanket too since the screening room is always so cold. We could bring snacks even though they’re usually provided. That might be overdoing it. ” You had started to ramble while Bucky rested his chin on his hand, contently listening.

“You’re not planning on sleeping in the lab again are you?” He asked, concerned.

“Well, I want to watch the movie and it's a bit silly to drive all the way home when I'm tired.” You said with a shrug. You really should stop sleeping at the lab so much, it seemed like you were starting to get a reputation.

“Very true, you should not be driving while sleepy. But uh we could go to my place afterwards. It’s a much nicer commute. Probably a bit more comfortable than the lab.” He offered.

“But Bucky, where would you sleep?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. The avengers apartments were nice but you were certain he didn’t have a guest bedroom.

“I’ll take the floor. It’s actually not an issue.”

“Bucky Barnes, I am not kicking you out of your own bed. No way. End of discussion.” You put your foot down. He let out a sigh looking up at the ceiling lights and then back to you. His whole demeanor changed

“Well. I was trying to be a gentleman here but it is a pretty big bed. We probably could both fit. Since it seems like there are no other options. ” He practically purred at you. You blinked, taken aback. You couldn’t remember a time where he had seemed more charming to you! But no, that couldn’t be right. Bucky Barnes was not actually offering to cuddle up with you on Valentine’s Day. This was you misreading the situation with him as usual.

“Oh. You mean that as friends right?” You asked. Bucky looked pained and sucked his teeth for a moment.

“Totally. As friends.”

“So let me get this straight. You are going to be going to see the romance movie The Princess Bride together. On Valentines day. As friends. Then you are going back to his apartment. Where you’ve planned on sharing his bed. As friends.”Nat asked. You sat across from Nat on the long L shaped couch in the TV room. You were a little surprised with how well you had ended up getting along with all the Avengers since you got hired for the lab. Nat and Bucky especially were famously unfriendly to newbies and yet, you seemed to click with them faster than anyone.

“Exactly. What's so hard to get about that?” You gave a shrug and sipped some more of your afternoon coffee. She let out a groan and massaged her temples.

“Are you dumb? Like has this whole brilliant scientist thing been like an Elizabeth Holmes scam? Geez Einstein, Bucky is head over heels for you and you spend all of your time thinking about smooching his stupid grumpy little face!” She cried and you winced. You only thought about smooching sometimes.

“His face isn’t stupid.” You muttered and Natasha rolled her eyes so hard you feared they may get stuck. “And he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Why would he ask you out to a movie? Then offer his place afterwards, if not because he’s totally into you!”

“I asked him if he meant as friends then he said yes he meant as friends.” You cried back. She let out an exasperated sigh.

“Honestly at this point, I think I may have to hang up my wing woman hat. Can’t get you a date, can’t get Steve a date, I’ve lost my touch.” She groaned.

“Doesn’t Steve have someone he’s seeing?” You asked.

“Uh absolutely not. No way he could keep that from me. Unless you have some intel I don’t know about.”

“He was asking me all these questions a few weeks ago. About getting a girl flowers to show you’re interested in her.” You explained. Why would he bring that up if not for the girl he’s dating? She nodded along knowingly.

“Quick question, was Bucky also there by chance?” She asked, her wry smirk returning to her face.

“Yeah he was…how did you know that?”

“And was this before or after Bucky showed up with flowers for ‘the lab’ ?” She asked using finger quotes around the lab. The gears in your head usually reserved for science and math started to turn. “Please, I’m begging you. Use that big powerful brain that’s supposedly between your ears.”

You trusted Nat, she was much better at reading people than you were. Could she be right? You hoped she was right.

You had changed into your flowy blue dress, you had always thought it looked a bit like Princess Buttercup's wedding dress with its long sleeves and high cinched waist. You took your hair out of its usual ponytail and let it tumble down your shoulders. This was a date. You told yourself. This was a date, Bucky was taking you out on a date.

It didn’t seem real. How could it be? You had crushes all the time but they never actually liked you back, that just wasn’t how life worked out. But Natasha could read people like no one you’d ever known before. Could she be wrong?

Bucky showed up at the lab door, lightly knocking on the door frame as he let himself in. He was wearing a black dress shirt with black dress pants. The black on black was his usual MO but god did he look so handsome in it. He had stayed his hair a bit too, you could see the gel he had combed in to keep it neat.

“Hey are you ready for the mo-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. The two of you stayed frozen for a minute neither sure what to do.

He pulled you away looking confused. Oh fuck I just sexually harrassed an avenger oh god I’m fired, I’m dead, Bucky is never going to speak to me again!

“What are you doing?” He whispered, his hands on your shoulders keeping you at a distance.

“I’m so sorry! God I knew Nat was wrong, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe…god I’m so dumb.” You started to blubber, humiliated. You wanted to melt into the floor.

“Hey, hey slow down. Now I’m really mixed up here, you said we should go as friends and now you’re kissing me. Can you just tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his voice very measured, his face unreadable.

You took a deep breath.

“I like you. I like you a lot. And I always thought that…there’s no way you liked me back. I wished the flowers you brought to the lab were for me but of course they weren’t and I hoped we were going to the movie as a date but of course we aren’t. Nat said she thought you liked me back but I should have never listened to her. I’m sorry.” You covered your face and turned away. You couldn't believe you’d messed this up so bad.

“You keep apologizing but I’m not exactly complaining here.” He said his voice low.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to let you know, but every time I tried it didn’t seem like you were interested in me!” He cried out. You just blinked at him, dumbfounded.

“Why would you be into me, you're like the savior of the galaxy and I’m a nerd who practically lives in her lab.”

“Why would you be into me, you're a beautiful brilliant scientist and I'm just some grumpy dope that’s also a pardoned war criminal?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Bye god this was the second time you kissed Bucky today! Only this time when your lips met he eagerly returned the kiss. His soft lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands went to your hips and you tried not to let out a gasp as he pulled you flush against his body.

“Wait, wait, are we going to miss the movie?” He asked you with such genuine sincerity you wanted to scream. How was he so cute?

“We can catch it another time.”

The two of you, barely able to keep yourself off each other, somehow managed to get in an elevator, go up all the way to Bucky's floor and get into his apartment. All while still remaining lip locked in a daze.

He was kissing you silly, you almost felt drunk. With a bit of a flourish he tossed you on to the bed (which was quite big, easily room for the two of you like he had said).

“Uh Bucky, what are these for?” You held up the leather cuffs that were chained across the back of the bed. He frowned, suddenly panicking.

“I was going to move those, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just, I get nightmares sometimes and it um, it helps to chain myself to the bed so I don't um hurt myself. I’m on meds now and I never need to use them anymore.” He was rambling, quickly trying to sooth the situation.

“Oh.”

“Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I know I’m a whole lot of baggage on top of baggage. I really am totally fine sleeping on the floor if that makes you feel safer or--”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re the smartest woman I know. ” He insisted. He sat back down on the bed. He took you in his arms. You pecked him lightly on his lips.

“I just…I thought maybe these were going to be for me.” You fluttered your eyelashes as

Bucky's eyes grew wide. He cleared his throat.

“They can be. They absolutely can be.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider #bucky barns x you #bucky x female reader #navy and roo's sleepover #i spy challenge #marvel fanfic #fluff #friday night posting baby

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miley1442111 · 2 months

Text

fresh out the slammer- a.hotchner

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry lmao.

intended for fem reader!

summary: based off of fresh out the slammer by taylor swift

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: sad ending, talk of falling out of love, aaron is still in love with Haley

the tortured poets department masterlist

Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you

Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

Fresh out the slammer, oh

Aaron unlocked the door to your shared home, one thought on his mind. Haley.

He missed her more than life itself. He missed being a family with Jack and her. He missed it all.

You were his girlfriend, you should’ve been on his mind. You had been there for him during his recent recovery after the stabbings with Foyet, you were working at all hours to try and find Foyet, you were always there for him. He loved you, truly.

But you weren't Haley.

Another summer takin' cover, rolling thunder

He don't understand me

Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter

He was with her in dreams

He lay beside you in your bed. You were already asleep, soft snores falling from your beautiful lips. A certain unease settled into Aaron’s body. He realised something slowly, and it led to a heavy sense of dread, shame, regret, and guilt.

He didn’t love you. He was still in love with Haley.

He thought of Haley everyday, every night. He wondered what she was doing, now that he didn’t know where she or Jack was.

Sleep evaded him that night.

Gray and blue and fights and tunnels

Handcuffed to the spell I was under

For just one hour of sunshine

Years of labor, locks, and ceilings

In the shade of how he was feeling

But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

Weeks passed and Aaron became more and more distant. He cancelled dates, came home late, he was reckless at work.

You felt hopeless. You knew something was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out what. You decided to confront him, staying up late enough to catch him.

“Aaron, what’s going on?” You asked as he walked into your shared bedroom. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Aaron, I’m a profiler too. Tell me.”

He felt conflicted. He liked you, a lot. He’d been dating you for a year. He’d thought he was over Haley, he was wrong. “I’m not in love with you anymore, I’m not sure I ever was.”

Your heart broke, but you swallowed it back. “Ok,” you whispered and got up, grabbing your go-bag and walking out. Aaron didn’t chase you. He didn’t want to.

You got into your car and let yourself break down. He never loved you. He was still in love with Haley. You were just a placeholder for her.

You went to Penelope’s place, knowing she’d be there for you. She let you in immediately and comforted you to sleep.

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you

Frеsh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

(Frеsh out the slammer, oh)

Haley was dead. You felt devastated for Aaron and Jack, not enough to speak to him though. You attended the funeral, you stood beside the rest of the team, then went straight to Strauss. You handed in you badge and gun, leaving the BAU behind. You cut everyone off, blocking their numbers, moving house, taking up a job in the CIA instead.

Aaron had officially lost you. In the weeks of your breakup, he’d realised how wrong he was, that he had loved you, that he was in love with you.

Camera flashes, welcome bashes, get the matches

Toss the ashes off the ledge

As I said in my letters, now that I know better

I will never lose my baby again

He spent weeks trying to find you, finding nothing. You’d asked one of your new colleagues to essentially wipe your existence off the face of the earth. You changed your name, you changed.

He’d made Penelope look for you for months, he went to your family as a last result.

“You want to know where Y/n is?” Your father asked. “We thought you’d know.”

His heart stopped. You were missing.

He got the team on it immediately, until Strauss called him in.

“Aaron, Y/n Y/l/n is not missing. She’s been reassigned,” she explained.

“Why can’t we find her then! All of her accounts were drained and closed, her family don’t know where she is, and she left the BAU!” He demanded.

“She was reassigned Aaron, that’s the end of it.”

He was helpless. You were gone.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it

Watch me daily disappearing

For just one glimpse of his smile

All those nights, he kept me goin'

Swirled you into all of my poems

Now we're at the starting line, I did my time

He took a leave of absence from the BAU for a month, deciding to try and find you on his own. He looked through everything on you, tried to remember details you’d told him, but he came up with nothing.

Until he saw you on a case.

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin'

To the house where you still wait up and that porch light gleams (Gleams)

To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams

And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here

At the park where we used to sit on children's swings

Wearing imaginary rings

You were a CIA agent, you were happy the way you were. You’d found a husband in the 2 years since you’d left the BAU. He loved you and adored you like you were supposed to be adored. He was a childhood best friend, one you’d had a crush on as a child. Aaron walked into the CIA building and saw you with your hand in his. His world crumbled for the third time in his life.

You had found someone else. You shot him and the entire team a small, knowing smile, and assisted them on their case.

“We thought you’d died,” Derek admitted as you were all cleaning up the conference room they were using as an office.

“Well technically Y/n died, I’m Y/n/n now. Y/n/n Scott,” You smiled, showing off your wedding ring and smiling at your husband, the other CIA agent that was helping with the investigation. Aaron’s stomach turned. At least you were happy.

But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

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therapycat21 · 9 months

Text

All Right Now Part 2

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description:The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social Media AU

It’s been a week since the incident at Arrowhead and Travis is still actively liking my posts but has not reached out yet. I'm taken from my thoughts by an incoming call from my manager Stacy.

“Hey y/n” she smiles brightly into the screen at me “hey, whats going on?” I ask her “they just had a major cancellation for the arrowhead stadium and need someone who can quickly put something together, they reached out so I thought I would check with you to see if you are comfortable doing this last minute?” I haven't done a concert in a while so why not I thought “yeah I can figure something out, when is it?” I ask her smiling.

“It’s gonna be this Saturday” she let’s me know before we talked a bit more before hanging up. I then open Instagram to start making a post to announce it to the fans.

Not even a second after posting it went viral and started to trend on twitter. I then get a notification

Killatrav added your post to their story!

I clicked on the notification to see he did indeed add my post to his story with the caption. "Tickets have been bought ;)" I blush before liking the story and decided to look through his account, it only consists of ads, and funny clips from a podcast he has with Jason, and pictures of him dressed really nice. I decided to like his recent posts and click my phone off before I do anymore damage. I guess I'm performing at the stadium now. I smile before I rush off into contacting everyone for the concert.

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

Saturday Morning

The day is finally here, I've been up since 5 am getting myself together to head over to the stadium for the show tonight, trying to remember the setlist and dance moves. Stacy knocks on the room door in the stadium "everything is all set, you ready?" she questions knowing I can get really bad nerves before a show. I smile, it reaching my eyes for the first time in a long time "surprisingly I am"

I laugh “okay good, I’m gonna go and head to my seat, you’re gonna do amazing” she tells me before reaching to open the door. Before she leaves she quickly lets me know “oh by the way, kylie, Jason, and Travis are here in the V.I.P box.” she smirks at me before finally closing the door. My face formed into shock knowing they actually came, especially Travis, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves

“You’re gonna do amazing”

“You always kill it”

“You've worked hard to get here”

I keep telling myself the three before I’m interrupted by the door opening and them letting me know it is time for me to start heading to the stage.

I quickly start to head over to the stage and see all of the dancers starting to get into position, I can hear the crowd starting to scream from the lights starting to move, I’m then handed my microphone and decide to talk to them before they can see me

“let’s talk some nonsense yall”

I hear the crowd scream even louder before I’m finally revealed. I smile brightly “hello my loves” I laugh before the intro to my son nonsense comes on. Every time I sing this song I always make up a new outro depending on the state I’m in. We’re now near the end of the song, and they turn the music down slightly so we can hear the fans better

“How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz” I smirk slightly before turning to where I see Travis staring at me smirking “raise your hand if you’re a little tipsy, sex with me is like joining the swim team, Travis is my favorite Kansas City” I blush profusely from him breaking out into laughter and seeing the blush rise on his face. The crowd screams even louder now knowing he’s there.

I see the crowd now facing up where the Kelce family is and taking pictures and videos. I laugh loudly into the mic before transitioning into the next song.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire show and for some reason my confidence was skyrocketing tonight and I didn’t hide that I was looking back at him with the best sultry look I could muster up. The show is now ending and the stage goes black before soft pink hues go through the stadium and the back screen lighting up with my new album announcement.

I hear the crowd scream even louder before saying my goodbyes and running off stage.

I reach the back where Stacy and Brittany are and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my adrenaline "you were absolutely amazing, oh my god you killed it" Brittany says running up and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back before I'm pulled into another hug by Stacy "You did so good girl!" I thank them both before we're interrupted by security.

"Miss y/n? there is a Kylie Kelce here wanting to see you, she says she's your friend?" I smile brightly at the security guard Jared "oh yes please bring her and the family back please." Jared gives me a brief nod before walking away to allow them in.

"you know that means Travis is gonna come back too right?" I can hear the smirk on Brit's face, I give her a look "yes I know, but for some reason tonight I am feeling good and confident, that has not happened in a long time especially towards a man." I reply with a teasing smile.

We’re interrupted by the door opening and Kylie slightly jogging to me with both girls with her.

When she gets close by we pull each other into a hug with the two girls trying to hug my waist. I let her go then bending down to pull both girls into a hug “hello my pretty mama’s ” I kiss both of their heads before letting go and standing straight to also greet Jason “you were absolutely amazing mama” Jason tells me pulling me into a deep hug, he is literally a bear. He lets me go, walking around to sit with kylie and the kids.

I’m then faced with a smirking Travis “I liked the shout-out” he tells me, I smile bright but with a giant blush rushing through my face “I thought you would” I smirk back at him.

He looks over at the others before moving slightly into more of my space, me having to look up pretty far to see his face “if you want I can show you how much of your favorite I can be” he almost whispers to me with him leaning slightly down with a giant smirk. If I thought I was blushing a lot before it is even worse now. I try to calm myself before replying “I bet you could” I try to whisper back, looking up at him smirking.

“So tomorrow night at 6:30?” he asks smiling “pick you up?”

I look back slightly at Brittany, her giving me a giant teasing smile and a thumbs up, I turn back

“Definitely” I smile bright.

Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!

#travis kelce #travis x reader

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rileyglas · 2 months

Text

The List ~Pt. 6 - Crestfallen~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: The arrival of a few new guests at the hotel ignites tension, prompting doubts about everyone's true intentions. Tempers rise and you're forced to make a decision about your future.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, slow burn, (possibly religious trauma if you squint), and of course 18+

2.5k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 (You're on it!) Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

It’s been two weeks since you spent that single evening with Alastor, and you’ve slept like complete shit every single night since. The first few were expected as your body was still healing but there was no excuse for the days that followed. Other than the desire to be near him.

It didn’t help that you were beginning to get anxious about the new deal, wondering what he could possibly show you that would help expand your power. He made no mention of it over coffee or in passing. But with Extermination Day getting closer you felt the pressure to be better (now that you knew it was possible).

Like clockwork, Alastor walks into your room with the usual two cups of morning coffee, setting yours on the table. This whole ‘domestic’ side of the demon is something I could really get used to. “Glowing as usual my dear.” He says as he kisses your forehead and sits down on the bench at the end of the bed. Odd. No book? No newspaper? He just sits quietly, staring into his mug. His mind seems to be somewhere else this morning.

“Well good morning to you too. What has the mighty Radio Demon frazzled this morning?”

“Hm?” He hums, still not looking up at you. You frown.

I know what will get his attention.

“That smile of yours doesn’t hide as much as you think it does…” as you speak, you pull yourself on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “…at least not for me,”

A look of pleasant surprise crosses his face at your forwardness and his eyes snap to yours. Finally pulled away from his thoughts.

Too easy.

“I am far from trying to hide anything darling,” he playfully runs his free hand up your thigh to your hip, resting it with firm grip on your waist, “However, you are correct in assuming my head is a little busier than usual. Charlie just informed me that her father will be making a visit to the hotel today.”

You practically fall out of Alastor’s hold from how fast you jolt up at the news. “I’m sorry…LUCIFER is coming today? You didn’t think that was important information to give me first thing this morning?”

He takes a sip of his drink and shrugs, “I would have told you eventually.”

Rolling your eyes at his nonchalant attitude, you quickly get dressed and head down to the lobby. Everyone was bustling around the hotel to get it prepared for the King of Hell’s arrival. You track down Charlie to ask what you can do and quickly get busy helping the others.

When Charlie answers the door, you catch a peek of the King for the first time and he’s…much shorter than you expected however still strikingly handsome. He was said to be the most beautiful of the angels before his fall. You are just finishing hanging a banner on the stairway when you overhear Alastor’s voice talking with everyone. Making your way down the stairs you catch the end of an apparently heated conversation.

“- well it’s not very clever!”

“Ha – ha! Fuck you.”

“ALRIGHT!” You and Charlie chime at the same time. She takes Lucifer’s shoulder to pull him towards the rest of the group and you wrap your hand on Alastor’s forearm. “What the fuck is your problem?” you scold. He jerks your hand off his arm without a second glance.

Oh we are going to be pissy today?

“And this is our newest resident but with her progress I feel like she’s bound to be our first successful transfer! She’s got a heart of gold!” Charlie beams at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say extending out a hand for a handshake.

Lucifer takes your hand and pecks your knuckles. “Yes, wonderful to meet you as well.” As he looks up he pauses, and a confused look crosses his face. You share an equally confused look while trying to pry your hand back from him. Charlie regains his attention, “Sooo dad there is so much to see –“ she trails off and you walk over to the bar.

“Trouble in paradise?” Husk pokes. If looks could kill, yours would have buried him another six feet under. Taking the hint, he pours you a double of your usual. You hear him mutter a hasty ‘sorry’ when he hands you the glass.

As you baby your drink some girl barges into the hotel, practically throwing herself onto Alastor. I really wish that didn’t bother me as much as it does. Noticing your face twist in annoyance, Husk leans over the bar to your ear, “It’s just Mimzy. She’s trouble, but not in the way you think. I’ll talk to Al in a bit.” You nod, watching her walk over to chat up Husk and Angel. Irritated by the events of the day so far, you excuse yourself to your room.

Halfway up the stairs to realize you don’t actually want to go sulk in your room, so instead you leisurely wander the halls lost in thought. Why is Alastor wrapped so fucking tight over Lucifer being here? Really showing his true colors.

You blindly make the first turn down the hall and knock heads with Lucifer who swiftly wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. You grasp at his shoulders for balance. “Fuck I’m so so so sorry – I was lost in my thoughts.”

“No no that was all me. I also was lost in my thoughts. Are you alright?” his voice was honey, sweetened even more by his soft smile.

“Yes, thank you. So sorry again – uhm where are your tour guides?”

“I evaded them to look around for myself. However, I am quite glad to have run into you, literally.” He chuckles at himself. Even his laugh is smooth. No wonder this man corrupted not one but two women with ease.

You wrinkle your brows, “Any reason in particular or…?”

“I just was hit with the strangest feeling when we met, and I wanted to ask. Are you…” his voice drops, “fallen?”

You push him away, realizing you are still holding onto each other. “Oh goodness no, I died and ended up straight here. I joke that I just wasn’t one of God’s favorites, even after living ‘by the book’ as they say.” A nervous laugh bubbles out of you but Lucifer looks more empathetic than amused.

“Charlie was right, if this whole redemption thing is even possible, you’d –“

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” You ask quietly.

He steps closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I just see how bright your soul is –“

“Don’t….say that.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Lucifer was on the verge of tears with how he is looking at you right now. “It must be so painful to be surrounded by such horrible sinners. Redemption would mean –“

“Lucifer please…” you beg with him, feeling your emotions start to take over. Why is he prodding this subject so hard?

“My dear Heaven can make mistakes, even if they’ll never admit it.”

“Enough!” You jerk away from him, causing him to step back in a stunned silence. “It’s ridiculous how the devil himself can see my soul is good yet THEY sent me here without a second thought. My love and my kindness and how I lived righteously on Earth meant NOTHING to them! Heaven didn’t want me so why the fuck would I want to go begging at their gate!?” Your cheeks grow hot as tears begin to pour from your eyes. Why am I crying over this RIGHT NOW?

Lucifer grabs you and pulls you to his chest, turning your tears into full sobs muffled by his coat. You drop to your knees and he kneels with you, tightening his embrace. “I’m sorry,” He breathes, “I understand more than anyone the pain you feel. But I also sense how powerful you’ve become here. Charlie is so lucky to have a friend like you.”

You look up abruptly through bloodshot eyes, taken back by the comment. He laughs at your stunned expression, “I’m Lucifer, THE devil – you really think I wouldn’t know something was up? Don’t worry, I understand the danger if you’re not careful with who you surround yourself -”

“What did you do to her!?” Alastor’s enraged voice resonates through hotel walls as he rushes over to pull you away from Lucifer. He grabs your arm, yanking you up off your knees. Some timing this guy has.

“Ouch – stop! He didn’t do anything. We ran into each other and just got –“ you try to reason with the increasingly furious demon but it falls on deaf ears. His antlers grow and body starts to stretch over the already smaller body of Lucifer.

“I don’t care if you’re the King of Hell, you touch her again and I’ll take pleasure in ripping those puny arms off your body!”

“Alastor calm down – he was helping me if anything!”

Lucifer stands up, ignoring the threats, but then a realization hits him. He looks at you equally baffled and disgusted. “No….Oh no my dear, you aren’t actually serious, right? All the sinners in Hell and you choose him?”

“What the fuck does that mean!?” you and Alastor angrily shout in unison.

Charlie and Vaggie come down the hall to see the tense scene. In classic Charlie fashion, she nervously tries to deescalate the situation, “Oh hey dad! THERE you are! Let’s continue the tour on a different floor, shall we?”

A sudden force hits the hotel, causing the entire building to shake. Looking outside you see several loan shark demons trying to force their way in and yelling for Mimzy. Guess Husk was right about her being trouble. Alastor snaps his head to you, keeping a rigid grip on your arm, “Radio tower. NOW.” he barks. Without waiting for your response, he shrinks into his shadow while the others run down to the lobby.

You walk into the radio tower and look outside in time to watch the last of the sharks being eaten. Maybe that’ll help him blow off some steam from today. Get his shit untwisted enough to actually talk to me. You pace the tower, taking in all the knobs and wires that strewed across the front where he sat every night. Alastor never invited you into his tower and you never felt the need to visit. So why did he ask demand me to come in here instead of his room?

“Feel any better, asshole?” you bite as soon as your ears start to ring.

A chill runs down your spine when he materializes right behind you. “You’d be wise to watch your tone.” He growls threateningly.

You turn to face him, “I’m sorry? My tone? Would you like a reminder of how shitty you’ve been towards me all day? And the whole Lucifer thing, the fuck is your problem with – “ his hand grasps at your throat, holding firm enough to startle you. You look up at him in shock and stare into his glowing red eyes.

“My problem with the King of Hell is none of your concern. However, I quite dislike how easily he got so close to you, my dear. Did you enjoy his hands on you? Did he whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Telling you how wonderful it is that you use your little powers for good?” His words drip with malice as he holds you in place. This was what you always expected from him yet somehow it hurt worse now, after everything you’d gone through together. His last sentence is all you needed to hear to trigger every worry you’ve had since the first deal.

You push yourself away from his grip. Resentment and hurt tightens painfully in your chest. This is it, this is where I need to turn off every emotion I ever thought I've felt for him. You straighten your body and try to speak calmly, “You’re angry because you think he wanted to take me…my power…to use elsewhere, aren’t you? This isn’t about him putting hands on me or you being jealous in that sense, oh noooooo - You thought he was trying to convince me to do his bidding rather than yours, THAT’S why you’re upset isn’t it?”

Static fills the air and he seethes at your words. He moves towards you but you step back out of his reach. You feel his shadow try to grab your legs but you conjure your needles, peppering them across the wood floor to chase it off. “Don’t touch me! It’s true, isn’t it?” Your eyes ignite with anger to hide your tears.

“I believe I made it very clear in the beginning this was about the power but – “ his voice drops and smile fades.

“What? But WHAT Alastor?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to step towards you again, speaking with a quiet but fierce tone, “Please, I need you to believe me when I say – “

“BELIEVE YOU? Do you hear yourself? This whole ruse of trusting each other, being drawn to each other, wanting to HELP me – it was all for your personal gain! You want nothing from me other than the power I can give you. Well forget it, I told you I wasn’t going to be some PET of yours. Our deals are OVER.” Pulling your hand up, you see the pink and green entwined string that connected you to Alastor. Your chest pangs as it snaps apart, fading into the dust of the tower.

His static cuts out and an eerie stillness falls over the room. In the dim glow of the tower you can only make out his silhouette and red eyes. You stand perfectly still, preparing for him to retaliate, lunge, attack, yell, anything. But he doesn’t. Neither of you move nor speak. After what feels like an hour of silence, Alastor melts into his shadow and disappears out of the room.

You drop to your knees in agony.

Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show.

A wave of pain burns through your body as though your heart was just ripped out of your chest.

Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close.

How could I be so stupid to think we could work together?

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have.

That he could actually care about me?

Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone

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hanggarae · 10 months

Text

when you spoke to me..

doctor!joshua x f!reader 4.1k words, readers ex keeps texting her to take him back, fake dating au, honestly doesn’t focus much on joshua being a doctor other than at the beginning but he still is a rich doctor, fluff, angst, one sided love (?) (you’ll get it when u read it), part of waves will take us far away series !

why were hospital layouts so complicated sometimes? now you’re accidentally in the room of a really cute doctor embarrassing yourself while you fumble with your phone trying to find the correct room your friend was in.. but wait is he smiling at you?

“you what?” you screamed to your friend over the phone, “who the hell is stupid enough to go on a hike when they have a broken leg?”

“ankle. it’s a broken ankle. besides it all worked out in the end right? at least everything with cheol got cleared up” she giggled, and you sighed remembering the crush she’d developed on her doctor of all people.

“yeah yeah i guess, look you get some rest i’ll come visit you tomorrow with jeonghan. feel better alright!” you let out another deep sigh when your friend hung up. you loved her but she really did make some terrible decisions sometimes.

the bed sheets were warm beneath you, it’d started getting warmer as spring approached and you knew you were definitely grateful for it. the cold weather always made the skin on your hands rough.

the notification sound on your phone went off. confused you checked your phone again in case it was from your friend. you let out a groan when you read who the text was from. ‘i’m sorry i miss you’ read the text from your ex. you’d blocked him weeks ago but he kept finding ways to contact you through new or his friends’ accounts. annoyed, you put your phone on mute and put your head on your pillow ready to sleep.

balloons tied to your wrist and three gift bags resting on your forearms, you walked through the hospital halls keeping a lookout for any staff that could help you find where the room you were looking for was.

you didn't usually visit this hospital so you weren’t familiar with the setting. room 139. you just passed 122 so surely you can't be far, right? after walking for a few more minutes, you found room 139. something seemed off though.

you were sure jeonghan had told you that he was already here and after peeking your head in, you couldn’t catch sight of him. weird. maybe he just stepped out to grab something. oh well.

pushing the door open you could've cried at the sight in front of you. yeah you were right to be wary. instead of your friends you were met with an elderly man currently getting a cast on his arm.

“i am so so sorry” you said breathlessly as you tried to get out of the room. before you did, your eyes met with the second doctor in the room, was he.. laughing at you? ‘jerk’ you rolled your eyes before walking out of the room.

turning on your heel, you gave one last apology before trying to find the correct room. before you could make it far, you felt someone grab onto your arm to get your attention. ‘what the hell did he want?’

“can i help you?” you told him curtly.

“i can help you if you need actually. i’m guessing you’re here to visit someone and it wasn’t that man back there” he smiled at you. okay now you felt bad. he was just a cute doctor that wanted to help you out.

“oh.. thank you” you smiled at him, “uh this was the room that my friend has told me. i’m visiting her, she had a fractured ankle..”

“oh!” his eyes widened, “do you know who your friend’s doctor is? is it choi seungcheol?”

“oh that’s right!”

“yeah come with me i’ll take you to where it is. you were in the wrong ward”

you frowned. why would the hospital use the same numbering system for every ward? it’s so over complicated. whatever. at least you were getting there now. you continued to follow doctor.. well actually what was his name?

“excuse me doctor? what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking”

“hm? oh i’m doctor hong but you can call me joshua i don’t mind” he smiled again at you, and when you saw it you don’t know how you managed to dislike him at first when he had such a kind smile. “and what’s your name?”

“my name’s yn. sorry for making you go through all this trouble by the way, you must’ve been busy”

“oh no don’t worry about it, i wouldn’t have offered if i didn’t want to”

after about ten minutes of walking joshua showed you to where the room was, and you saw all of your friends. thanking joshua one more time you made your way in before waving back at him.

when visiting hours were done, you and jeonghan we’re making it out of the hospital together before you heard your phone vibrate a few times in your pocket.

you groaned at how it kept going, knowing it meant that it was your ex that found another way to contact you.

“you know, this should be considered borderline harassment at this point. he won’t leave you alone!” jeonghan sounded annoyed when you both confirmed it was your ex texting again, “he’s got no shame too, he’s the one who cheats and now he’s begging to have you back”

“i don’t even care anymore, i planned on getting a new phone and number soon anyway. so he can have fun texting the phone that nobody’s using” you sighed, exasperated at his efforts.

you’d told him weeks ago to stop contacting you, that no matter how much he did this wasn’t going to ‘win you back’. he was a terrible human being and you didn’t want anything to do with him.

“oh? yn?” you heard a familiar voice call out not too far from where you and jeonghan were.

turning to identify where the sound was coming from, you relaxed when you saw it was the doctor that helped you earlier.

“hi joshua, you getting off work now?” you waited for him to catch up to you.

“yeah. hey jeonghan” he waved to the man smiling deviously next to you, “uh yn do you have a ride home?”

“she doesn’t! i had to meet my parents for dinner right after so i couldn’t” before you could answer jeonghan was already doing it for you, faking a pout. “but hey, you could take yn home, couldn’t you shua?”

“if that’s okay with you yn i’d be happy to” joshua smiled at you again, that same too sweet smile.

“if it’s not any trouble to you” you told him sheepishly, “then i’d really appreciate it”

joshua’s car was nice, you could tell he took good care of it, making sure everything in the glove compartments were organised and that the seats were as clean as the carpets. you’d spent the time talking and getting to know each other. falling into conversation with joshua was too easy, almost as if you’d known each other for years. you’d learnt about how much of a kind person he was, but he never bragged about it, just about how incredibly grateful he was to be able to give to others. there was no way someone as nice as him really existed. and he looked that good too? oh it really wasn’t fair.

but you can really never have too much of a good thing because here came the 703rd call from your ex in the last few weeks. groaning you decline it but then came the bombardment of texts saying how he ‘loved you and didn’t mean it’.

“is that your boyfriend?” joshua asked, and if you weren’t so distracted with blocking the new number he was contacting you from, you would’ve caught the masked disappointment in his voice.

“thankfully no. but i don’t want to bother you with the whole story” you turned to look at him, but he was silently telling you to go on, like he doesn’t mind if you vented to him despite only knowing him a few hours. from what jeonghan had told you after being friends with joshua for a few months now, he was definitely a good listener. “he’s my ex. we’d broken up like a year ago or something but a few weeks ago he kept trying to reach out again out of nowhere. i’m guessing he realised that no girl wanted him so he thought i’d take him back”

“and what he’s just been bothering you for the last few weeks? have you tried telling the authorities?”

“i’ve thought about it but he’s harmless. i saw him at the store about a week ago and he didn’t even approach me. he’s all bark and no bite. i think if he sees i’m with someone else he’ll definitely back off” you sighed rubbing at your temples, you could feel yourself getting a headache already.

“are you? with someone else i mean?” he looked nervous. it was so cute.

“no, but why do you ask?” you asked him with a teasing lilt in your voice.

“well, my parents have been annoying me for weeks about finding a partner. so how about we just help each other out and pretend we’re going out with one another?”

it honestly was a good idea but you couldn’t help feel a little disappointed that it would just be fake dating. joshua was fun though so you’d push back your own brief hurt in favour of at least hanging out with him more often.

‘morning !! do u think u can meet me at this cafe at around 3 today ? need to ask u smth’ read the text that joshua had sent you today. it had been a few weeks since he drove you home and you’d both been texting back and forth getting to know each other more, and he mentioned that you both might have to meet soon last night. you texted him back, and agreed to meeting up. after getting ready, you left the apartment at around 2:30 to get to the cafe that joshua had told you about.

you texted joshua again to let him know you were outside and he told you that he was waiting at the table near the window on the left. when you stepped in you found him immediately. he was dressed casually, you’re guessing he didn’t have work today.

“hey, do you want me to grab you something to drink?” he smiled at you, helping you with your things.

you looked over the menu before he recommended something, promising you it would be good as he’d visited the cafe a lot. he went to place the order before joining you again at the table.

“did you have work off today?” you asked him.

“oh yeah, i don’t usually work fridays” he took a sip of his drink, “but anyway. the reason i asked you here was because i was wondering if you could come with me to some dinner my aunt’s hosting this weekend. her daughter graduated and my parents mentioned they wanted to meet you”

this weekend? that’s so sudden. i mean it’s not like you really had any plans anyway but it was still really sudden, “i’m free so i can go just.. well how formal is this dinner? like should i dress up or..” you trailed off, mentally trying to remember everything in your closet and if you had something fit for the occasion.

“it’s pretty formal i guess” he said sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck, “it’s at some fancy restaurant and i’m going wearing a suit. of course if you need me to i can definitely help you find a dress!”

“don’t worry about it” you laughed, pulling out your phone so you could find a picture. “i have a few formal ones but this is one i wore to my friend’s engagement party a couple months back, you think this’ll be alright?”

joshua looked at the picture, lips curving up into a smile before he met your gaze, “you look really pretty in that dress”

you flushed, taking a sip of your drink while thinking of a way to not let him get the upper hand, he can’t make you fall for him it wouldn’t be fair.

“thanks.. i just remembered! i have a high school reunion on the 30th. are you busy that day? i’m pretty sure it’s a friday”

you saw joshua frown thinking over it before opening what you’re guessing is his calendar app on his phone, “nope. i don’t have anything that day so i can go with you”

“great! my ex should be there too so after that he should stop bothering me too”

maybe it was all just in your head but you felt like you saw joshua tense a little at the mention of your ex, “has he texted you since?”

“i think he’s finally getting the hint. he doesn’t text as much anymore thankfully”

you were finishing up the last touches on your makeup when you heard someone ring your doorbell. you checked the camera to see it was joshua, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. you let him in, instantly taking note of his appearance.

you could hardly appreciate it from the cameras but in person you could see in detail how the suit he was wearing hugged his figure so well. the suit itself was black paired with a white button up and a purple tie.

“i remembered your dress was purple and thought i’d match the tie with it” joshua told you sheepishly when he saw how focused you were on it. “these are for you! i saw jeonghan today and asked him to make a bouquet for me”

you took the flowers, grinning at his thoughtfulness and thanking him, “is jeonghan still trying to win over your guys’ surgeon friend?”

joshua laughed at your comment, remembering how jeonghan had once called him at 3am to know what type of flowers his friend likes, “yeah he is. think she’ll say yes any day now”

you hummed, nodding. “how much time until we have to be there by the way?”

“about 45 minutes, it’ll only take us fifteen minutes to get there from here” he told you, checking his watch that you could just tell was expensive. you nodded again, telling him you’ll be right out after putting your dress on and grabbing a few things.

joshua waited on your couch for you to finish getting ready, scrolling through his phone to pass time. after a few minutes, he looked up when he heard you clear your throat nervously.

“you look amazing, yn. really, you do” and joshua wasn’t lying. he always thought you were pretty and right now was no different. but joshua bit back those thoughts though, admitting to himself would mean he’d also have to admit that he can’t ever have you. “so uh, you ready to go?” joshua winced at the lump in his throat and the way his voice cracked ever so slightly, and he was grateful for the fact that you were checking over the things in your purse one last time so you didn’t notice it.

you nodded and the both of you made your way to his car.

joshua was oddly quiet on the car ride, opting to just play music to fill the silence. when you arrived at the restaurant, joshua opened the door for you and helped you out. “the restaurant’s technically part of some five star hotel” he explained when you looked at it a little confused.

“ohh it looks really pretty” you smiled up at him while he held your hand leading you to the entrance.

joshua told the receptionist his name and she led you both over to where joshua and his family were waiting. when you actually saw them, the nerves finally hit you. what if you accidentally let slip that you and joshua weren’t really dating? what if you embarrass joshua?

joshua seemed to take notice of your nerves, squeezing your hand gently and whispering a “you’ll be fine, they’re going to love you”.

and it seems joshua was right. the night did go smoothly and you congratulated joshua’s cousin for her graduation. his family was kind, they didn’t once make you feel awkward or uncomfortable, instead complimenting you and making sure you didn’t feel left out.

by the time the dinner was over you were honestly sad that you’d have to leave his family, they were so fun you wanted to be with them more often. you left for a few minutes to go to the bathroom and when you came back you found joshua looking for you.

“joshua? what’s up?” taking note of how he looked a little annoyed and out of breath.

“yn i’m so sorry. my uncle just told me now that they’d booked rooms for all us to stay at the hotel tonight. if you feel uncomfortable with it i can just say you have a work thing tomorrow and we can’t stay” you really didn’t mind staying, but you were surprised and did feel guilty that they paid for you. he wasn’t saying it for your sake but you knew joshua secretly wanted to stay. his job makes it hard for him to see his family often so he’d appreciate this time with them. at the same time, you knew that staying would only make you more regretful of the fact that joshua didn’t feel the same about you.

“it’s fine, i don’t mind staying”

surprisingly enough, you’d managed to fall asleep pretty quick considering when you fell asleep joshua was still taking a shower.

when joshua got out he saw you on the bed and couldn’t help the soft smile breaking at his features. he saw your phone was still unlocked, a video still playing. ‘you must’ve fallen asleep watching it’.

he was about to turn it off before rolling his eyes at the texts from your ex again. he was about to block it for you until an idea crossed his mind. joshua fought mentally with himself as he debated whether or not he should go through with it. he sent a picture the two of you had taken together earlier to your ex, a ‘can u leave us alone ..?’ text attached to it while he silently prayed you wouldn’t think he was crossing any lines by doing so.

you met up with joshua a lot more after the dinner with his family. but the both of you getting closer was not doing anything to help your own feelings. joshua by no means felt the same about you. when you’d gotten to know joshua and the people close to him, you learnt that he was always the bold one when it came to people he liked. he’d always be the one to ask someone out, the one to go the extra mile for them. so the fact that he hadn’t done that for you, or even implied he wanted to, it wasn’t hard to assume that he just simply didn’t like you in that way. joshua wanted you as a friend and nothing more or less and you just had to live happily with that.

the reunion was soon. you’d texted joshua about it again, reminding him the address and time it was. you noticed your ex stopped texting you and part of you felt a little disappointed at it. you were grateful he finally took the hint but sad because what if this meant joshua wouldn’t have to keep up the act anymore? you were aware you probably seemed crazy and pathetic clinging onto a fake relationship that was only proposed for convenience, but that’s how you felt and you couldn’t help it and were too tired of it all to make an excuse.

dressed in a plain black tee paired with black slacks and a blazer, joshua picked you up for the reunion. as hard as you’d tried to make it seem like nothing was up, you knew joshua could tell. you silently hoped he would just assume it’s nerves because you still hadn’t thought of a way to tell him that you wanted to break off the agreement of fake dating.

why was this so complicated? it’s not like you two were actually dating so it’s not like it’s an actual breakup, but it still felt like you were losing something. what if joshua only talked to you so much was because he needed someone that was willing to pretend to be his girlfriend?

you shook the thoughts out of your head as you both pulled up to the place the reunion was being held. stepping out, you could already see some familiar faces, smiling and hugging them whenever they came to greet you.

the night went by with you catching up with old classmates, introducing them to joshua too. it was scary how well he was able to get along with people instantly. you were honestly surprised that your ex hadn’t bothered you all night, guess he saw joshua and backed off.

when you decided to leave the reunion, joshua suggested you both grab dinner somewhere. the food served at the reunion wasn’t the best so the both of you hadn’t eaten much all night. and that’s how the both of you ended up in the parking lot of some takeout place, laughing while you both told stories of your high schools together.

it was fun, and you hated the part of yourself that always made you overthink. ‘none of this is even real, joshua doesn’t care about you like that. so stop thinking this means the two of you are really dating’.

“yn, what’s wrong?” joshua sounded alarmed, and it was only then you took notice of the tears welling up in your eyes, rubbing aggressively at them immediately.

“think that the contacts are just irritating my eyes, don’t worry” you assured him but he still didn’t look satisfied with your answer.

“here let me help you-”

“it’s fine joshua” you sighed, “look about this whole pretending to be dating thing. i really can’t do it anymore. pretending to be in a relationship with you is killing me-”

“fine. i’m sorry if i did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. it was stupid of me to send that picture to your ex-”

“what picture?” you looked up at him confused, what the hell was he talking about?

“the one i sent to your ex and i told him that we were happy and to leave us alone..”

“is that why he stopped bothering me? oh well i didn’t know about that but thanks because it’s the only thing that managed to shut him up”

“wait what? so then what are you mad at me about?” he pouted.

you stayed silent. you knew exactly where this was headed and if it carried on you knew it’d lead to you spilling your guts to him, and you weren’t sure you could do that. because if you did you’d lose joshua forever.

“nothing, don’t worry about it” you mumbled, going back to swirling the plastic spoon around the ice cream in your cup.

“no no no” you heard joshua say, his fingers holding on to the underside of your jaw gently so that you turned your attention to him. “tell me, yn”

“i can’t” you whispered, tears welling up again, “if i do i’ll lose you forever. i don’t think i can do that, shua” you knew tears were freely spilling past your eyes at this point but you couldn’t care.

“yn, i promise you, you’re not going to lose me. i love you far too much to let you go” you still shook your head at him sniffling and unbelieving of his words. “yn you mean so much to me that i’m willing ignore my feelings for you because i know you don’t feel the same way. you mean so much to me that i’d rather wake up knowing i can’t have you the way i want then to wake up not having you in my life at all. you mean so much to me yn, so please don’t think i’d try leaving you”

you sat, stunned at joshua’s confession. it was like he could read your heart and turned all the feelings and words you wanted to give him into his own. he looked at you warily for a few seconds, scared you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings. if only he knew how much you’d been thinking the same about him for months.

you inched closer to him, closing your eyes as you brushed your lips over his. joshua tensed before melting into the kiss too, and your heart grew warmer and how you could feel him smile into the kiss.

when you both pulled away, you were both smiling, “you know this doesn’t serve as a confession right? i want you to list every single thing that made you like me!”

you laughed at his words, whining “no don’t make me say it, you just want to tease me”

“oh so you’re allowed to hear me pour my heart out to you but if i wanna hear you say it back it’s too much?” he jokingly pouted, bringing you closer for a hug while he fought off his own giggles hearing yours.

🏷️ @smilehui @suzuyamitsuki @minhui896

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #joshua fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua imagines #svt imagines #svt joshua x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #hong jisoo x reader #joshua x reader

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yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

playboys & pancakes | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your fuckboy model friend Park Jimin returns from Paris, Jungkook can't help but feel a little jealous and protective over you even though the two of you aren't technically dating yet.

⛓️word count: 2.6k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, oc is a lil brat, boy gets jealous🤭, soft cuddling, jimin is a tattooed fuckboy, no explicit smut in this drabble

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this was a cute lil drabble request for jealous!jjk!! if you make it all the way to the end, there ✨might✨ be a special teaser... lmk if yall would be interested👀

In the middle of class, Jungkook stares at the seat next time him where you’re busy giggling and texting away for some unknown reason. He’s dying to know the context so he can use it against you later to see that pretty smile once more.

“Hey you,” you whisper, leaning over in his direction. It’s rare for the two of you to talk in the classroom since you both agreed it was best to lay low about whatever the fuck this is between you and him. It must be something urgent. “Do you know any cute girls who are single right now?”

Jungkook just blinks at you in utter disbelief. You’re already sick of him, aren’t you? You’d rather fool around with some cute girl than fuck some loser who makes her finish her homework a week before it’s due. Well shit. It was fun while it lasted.

“Asking for a friend,” you add. Not helping, by the way. Could you make it any more obvious that you’re trying to break off this… arrangement between you and him? “My friend said he’s down bad.”

Wait.

You flash your phone screen in Jungkook’s face for him to read what you were presumably giggling about earlier.

Jimin🍄 [10:46AM] “A what tattoo?!🥵🍆”

Jimin🍄 [10:46AM] “Btw please tell me you know a cute girl who is as down bad as I am”

Jimin🍄 [10:47AM] “Paris was not as romantic as they make it out to be”

Y/N✨ [10:48AM] “hold on lemme ask the dilf”

The dilf has a lot of questions. The first being, “You have friends?” He’s mostly just teasing you for lacking genuine friendships despite being so popular, but this is the first time he’s heard you talk about a friend that wasn’t him.

“He’s a friend from high school,” you explain. “He’s been studying abroad for the past few years and just got back yesterday. I’m letting him crash at my place this weekend so we can catch up.”

Hmm. Jungkook wasn’t planning on sharing you with anyone this weekend, but this is a much better scenario than you outright abandoning him for someone else. In fact, he might even know just the right person to satisfy your friend’s needs.

“And why are you calling me a dilf—”

He never gets an answer because the professor calls on you to answer a question on the board. You glance up and give the correct answer with no hesitation despite the distractions next to you and on your phone. Your nerdy side is just as attractive as your bubbly personality.

He’s so lucky to have a girl like you.

“Jimin wants to have brunch with you tomorrow, by the way,” you say on Friday night as you snuggle closer to Jungkook on the couch. It’s one of those rare wholesome nights at his place where you aren’t dripping in pleasure, moaning your little heart out with him inside you. “I told him you’d hook him up with a baddie and now he wants to interrogate you to make sure you have good taste.”

“I think I have pretty good taste.” He looks right at your cute naked face with no makeup on. You’re also borrowing one of his oversized tees and using it as a nightshirt. Obviously, he has amazing taste.

“So you’ll come?” Your smile is so bright. How could he ever say no to that? “We can meet up with him there and go to my place after.”

“Sure,” he says. Besides, he’d like to see this Jimin guy for himself. From what you’ve said about him, he seems like a cool dude studying fashion design. But it’s also kind of fucked up that your closest friend abandoned you here without anyone else to rely on for all those years apart. It’s shitty to think how alone you must’ve felt until the two of you started talking barely a month ago.

“Cool, I think you’ll get along with him,” you yawn into his chest while twirling his hair around your finger. Thank god he decided to let his hair grow out so you could play with it as much as you want. “He’s like you but friendlier and fuckboy-ish.”

“If he’s friendly and fuckboy-ish, how is that like me?” Jungkook isn’t picking up what you’re putting down. He doesn’t like the sound of the fuckboy part, either.

“He has a lot of tattoos and a cute face, but he’s kind of mean in a teasing way. Just like you.” The twirling is slowing down. “A lot of people say he’s super attractive too.”

You reach for your phone that somehow ended up on the other side of the boy and pull up Jimin’s Instagram. Jungkook studies the page and clicks on a pic of your friend all suited up in Dior. Damn. Not only is he handsome, but he also knows how to pose and look good in photos. You kind of left out the part about him being an actual model.

Of course you have another attractive guy friend who enjoys teasing you. Of course this guy happens to be staying with you while he’s “down bad.” And of course Jeon Jungkook is not going to let himself feel a certain way about it.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up to your arms wrapped around his waist as you’re still snoozing away on the couch. Very carefully, he peels your arms away one at a time, hops out of the blanket, and gives you his sleepy kitten to hold onto in place of him. You make this cute little whiny sound as you cuddle the cat.

Successful in leaving you undisturbed, the boy heads to his room and opens his sorry excuse of a closet. The majority of his wardrobe is just basic shit like hoodies, plain tees, ripped jeans, and sweats for the gym. He’s never really put a whole lot of thought into his fashion, but he woke up this morning with an urge to look somewhat good for brunch. It totally has nothing to do with that fashion model friend of yours.

After a good ten minutes of contemplation, he eventually goes with a nice crewneck and one of the few pairs of black jeans that aren’t all torn up. It’s just brunch anyway.

By then, you’ve woken up and thrown on that pretty beige sundress you left behind a few weeks ago. He’d conveniently washed it for you when he was doing a light load. Now you smell like his lavender laundry soap.

When the two of you get to the brunch place, you claim a booth and wait for Jimin to arrive. Your arm brushes against his as you flap through the menu. The booth is pretty spacious, and yet you’re sitting that close to him. He doesn’t mind, of course.

“I’m gonna get the pink strawberry waffles… but the chocolate banana pancakes look really good, too.” You point at the pictures like a child. “What about you?”

“Chocolate banana pancakes.” He didn’t have his mind made up until that very moment. You’re always stealing his food off his plate these days anyway. He might as well pick something you’ll enjoy.

“Ooh, good, now I can try it too,” you sing. Called it.

“Never said I was sharing,” Jungkook shakes his head. You both know he’s bluffing.

“What do I have to do for a taste?” you ask so innocently while leaning your soft tits against his arm. “Do you want me to get down on my hands and knees and suck dad—”

“Hi Y/N, hey Jungkook.” Your handsome model friend slides into the other side of the booth and interrupts your enticing proposal. Your eyes light up in a way Jungkook has never seen before.

“Jimin!” you smile.

“Hey,” Jungkook adds, a lot less enthusiastic than you. Of course Jimin is even better looking in person.

After ordering, you ask Jimin to spill the deets on his Paris adventures. In addition to an internship, he also did in fact spend some time modeling for a few luxury brands. Now that he’s back home, he’s planning on taking it easy for a bit before moving forward with fashion design.

So that’s why he’s asking for a baddie to kill time with. He can have anyone he wants as long as it’s not you.

As the two friends catch up, Jungkook notices the way you lean forward toward the other boy and laugh at nearly everything he says—although to be fair, he is a pretty funny and charming guy. That’s the kind of guy that would complement your playful personality so well.

The food comes shortly after, and you stare intensely at Jimin’s French toast even though you have a pretty pink waffle right in front of you and Jungkook’s pancakes right beside you.

“Really? The guy who just got back from France ordered French toast?” you snicker, turning to Jungkook to get him on your side. He chuckles, but only because you’re cute when you’re being mischievous.

“Would you like some, Y/N?” Jimin waves off your silliness. He must be used to it because it hardly affects him the way it affected Jungkook.

“Yes, please.” You cut off a small piece of French toast and go in for a taste. It gets not one but two thumbs up from you.

“Still a foodie, I see,” Jimin observes. You nod. He must’ve been the one you were dragging around to different food places back in high school. But now that’s Jungkook’s job, and he’d like to keep it that way.

So Jungkook waits. He waits patiently for you to ask for a taste of his food. After all, he ordered the chocolate banana pancakes with you in mind.

But instead, you’re minding your own business and digging into your pink waffle. Weren’t you offering a whole blowjob for a taste of his pancakes a little while ago? Now you suddenly don’t want it because he’d joked about not sharing it? This is stressing him out more than it should.

You turn and catch the boy next to you aggressively sawing through his pile of pancakes with his butter knife. Hopefully you don’t pick up on his distress.

“Are the pancakes goo—” Before you can finish your question, a few freshly cut pancake pieces are plopped onto your plate beside the pink waffle.

“You said you wanted to try it, didn’t you?” Jungkook tries his best to sound nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

Your Surprised Pikachu face quickly turns into a smug look. “Thought you weren’t sharing,” you hum as you indulge in the moist chocolatey delight. At the same time, your free hand casually runs along the boy’s inner thigh and gives it a squeeze under the table. Playing innocent might be part of your personality, but you know exactly what you’re doing to him. “The pancakes are yummy, by the way.”

Still, your touch is as much of a comfort as it is a turn-on.

“So, are you still interested in the hot girl Jungkook knows?” you ask Jimin. Jungkook hasn’t even shown you a pic of the girl, and yet you’re already hyping her up. You also aren’t aware that it’s someone he’s slept with in the past, but he’ll address that another time.

“Listen, when I said I was down bad,” Jimin lowers his voice, “I meant I need to get laid as soon as possible.”

“Damn, what happened in Paris? Who hurt you?” you frown as you take a big sip of coffee.

“I’ll spill the tea later,” he sighs. Looks like it’s still a touchy subject.

To lift the other boy’s spirit a little, Jungkook pulls up an Instagram page filled with a ton of colorful floral tattoos. If you scroll down enough, you might even find a few pics of his tattoos there too.

“She’s a tattoo artist.” He rolls up his sleeve and points out a few floral pieces that match the style from the Instagram page. “She doesn’t really post pics of herself, but she probably has more tattoos and piercings than me.”

“And she’s hot,” you add in even though that’s already been established.

“I’ll ask if she’s free.” Jungkook pulls up her contact info and shoots her a message. She responds right away.

Jungkook🐍 [11:39AM] “Do you have time for a walk-in today?”

Jungkook🐍 [11:39AM] “I know a guy who’s interested in you”

???🌼 [11:40AM] “😳”

Jungkook🐍 [11:40AM] “interested in your tattoos**”

???🌼 [11:40AM] “😔”

???🌼 [11:41AM] “todays been slow pls send him my way thx”

???🌼 [11:41AM] “tell him he gets a discount if hes cute”

???🌼 [11:41AM] “IM KIDDING PLS DONT TELL HIM THAT ILL GET CANCELED”

“Yeah she’s free right now,” Jungkook says, trying to keep a straight face. “I’ll give you the address to her studio.”

“Ooh, perfect,” you squeak at Jimin who still doesn’t look completely sold on the whole thing. “You can scout it out as soon as we’re done here.”

“Wait, are you sure it’s okay? I know I said I needed this asap, but I’m mostly here to visit you,” he says.

“Well, now that you’re back from overseas, we can hang out anytime. I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, downing the rest of your coffee. You’re such a good friend. “And besides, it could be life-changing sex waiting for you at the tattoo shop.”

Jimin nods at your encouragement. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll go.”

“Good.” You slide your ass right over Jungkook’s lap to get out of the booth. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t lean into it a little. “Be right back. I drank too much liquid.”

With you off to the bathroom, Jungkook sits alone across from the other boy. It always gets awkward when the mutual friend disappears. What are they supposed to talk about now that you’re gone?

“So… are you two, like, dating…?” Jimin wastes no time in addressing the elephant in the room. “Y/N always avoids the question whenever I ask.”

“What makes you ask?” The question is mostly to stall time until you get back, but Jungkook is also curious to know what you’ve said about him.

“The way she talks about you makes it seem like you guys are married,” he chuckles. Wow, he has a charming eye smile too. Jungkook would’ve been threatened by that level of charm, but he seems to have already let go of that feeling. “She told me you’re raising a kitten together and that you’re always scolding or spoiling it like a true dilf—her words, not mine. She won’t shut up about how you’ll make a good dad one day.”

At least he knows where the dilf propaganda comes from now. He’ll admit it’s a lot more wholesome than he thought. You really do just gush about him to your best friend. Maybe you feel the same way he does when it comes to this unestablished relationship between you and him.

Maybe you also want something more.

When you return, you finish up your food, split the bill, and send Jimin on his way to the tattoo studio. Hopefully, it goes well for him. Not because Jungkook is worried the other boy might turn around and try something funny on you, but because he wants any friend of yours to experience the same type of feelings he feels when he’s with you. Damn. He wasn’t expecting to get all gushy this weekend, but he’s not going to fight it either.

“What’d you guys talk about while I was in the bathroom?” you ask on the way back to the car.

“Not much,” Jungkook shrugs. “Just about you calling me a dilf.”

“Oh no, I feel so exposed,” you whine in your favorite sarcastic tone. Then you turn to him and bat your lashes. Brat. “Am I wrong, though?”

a/n: okay i dont normally put notes like this at the end of my fics, but im gonna tease a potential jimin spinoff💖 lmk what you guys think!

⛓️pairing: model!jimin x tattooartist!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, fwb2l, possible angst (??)

⛓️summary: After breaking up with your on-and-off boyfriend for hopefully the last time, an old fling sends his handsome model friend to your tattoo studio. And apparently, he’s as done with love as you are.

⛓️warnings: jimin & oc are both heartbroken and starved for sex (as you might have noticed from this drabble lol), oc is an actual baddie with tattoos everywhere and a belly piercing, there will be a lot more warnings if i decide to go through with this!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

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ghostkennedy · 10 months

Note

I abso-fuckin-lutely loved In the Middle! Like, it was chefs kiss.

I would like to request somethin similar to that if you don't mind. It's like a Leon x Ada x fem! reader. I know I'm a genius, right?

Also, I frickin love you're work like it's more than chefs kiss, it's total perfection😍😍😍

Fine Line

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader x Ada Wong~

Word count: 6239

Content warnings: fluff, angst, smut, sexual content, MFF threesome, established relationship, they're both with reader but not each other, confessions of feelings, kissing, sub reader, dom leon, dom ada, breeding kink, mommy kink, mentions of impregnating reader, minor arguing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, strap on, pussy eating, oral (f recieving), squirting for first time, praising

Thanks for your patience anon <3

!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS BLOG AND POST ARE 18+ ONLY!!!!!

It’s already three am when you’re finally returning home from a work trip. It was only supposed to last a weekend, but due to your boss’s fuck up, it lasted over two god forsaken weeks.

You figure everyone will be asleep considering it’s so late, so you quietly let yourself in the back door and lock up behind you.

You’re silently unlacing your boots when you hear voices coming from the kitchen. Your hands instantly freeze up as you try to hear who is up at this hour.

You’re too far away to make out anything, so you finish unlacing your boots, quietly setting them down and tiptoeing towards the kitchen.

You sit quietly in the dark dining room. You’re barely breathing in your attempt to remain hidden. You don’t know why you have the urge to eavesdrop, but here you are being suspicious as hell.

You hear a loud sigh. “How long have you felt this way?” You recognize Leon’s voice immediately.

You can tell already this is a heavy conversation. Usually the house was filled with laughter and teasing and happiness, but tonight it was darker.

“Since the day I met her, probably.”

So it’s Ada and Leon talking. Your two roommates and best friends.

Leon huffs out a laugh and you’re not sure what to make of their tone. Who are they talking about? How are they feeling? What’s going on?

“How’d we manage to both catch feelings for our roommate? What’s wrong with us?”

Your heart drops and feels like it might fall out of your ass. They’re talking about you? They have feelings for you? Both of them?

Feelings of guilt start to creep in without permission. Are you going to come between their friendship? What if they ask you to choose? Please don’t make you choose, please.

You’d never forgive yourself. You could turn around now and pretend you never heard anything. Maybe they’d drop it and never bring the subject up to you. All three of you could repress your feelings in peace.

You know it’d be fucking painful, but it could be worth it to preserve the friendships you’ve fought to maintain over the years.

“I don’t know. I think it’s just her.”

“What, how she’s absolutely perfect in every sense of the word? She doesn’t even have to try to get me wrapped around her finger. She says jump, I say how high. Makes me feel like a fucking schoolboy.”

Ada laughs at Leon’s explanation and you can’t hold back your smile.

“That about sums it up.” Ada agrees with him.

They think you’re perfect? No one knows you better than they do and they still believe that load of shit? Maybe they really are in over their heads. Leon, you can see being a hopelessly devoted lover. But you never thought you’d see the day Ada was in just as deep. And all for the same girl who’s never viewed herself as anything more than mediocre at best? It’s a hard thought to process, that’s for sure.

“Did you ever plan on telling her? I’ve wanted to so many times, but I’ve always chickened out.”

“Oh Leon. It’s more complicated than boy meets girl and pursues her. That’s a given basically; it’s what’s expected. But I’m a woman who doesn’t even know if she’s into women.” Ada takes a long swig of her drink and lets out a heavy sigh.

Leon hums as he ponders Ada’s words.

Ada’s been pining over you even though there’s a chance you might be straight? She still admired you so much to catch feelings regardless.

It just adds to that gross guilty feeling growing inside of you.

You’d never intentionally been evasive about expressing your sexuality. You’ve always thought your sexuality and gender expression was just fluid, not wanting to put yourself into a box. Labels made things official and you’ve always been noncommittal. And somehow that has leaked over into how you identify as well.

What do these idiots see in you?

“Maybe she’s not into men and I’m shit out of luck. If she isn’t open about it, maybe it’s because she doesn’t identify with the norm?” Leon’s voice is shaky, almost as if he’s nervous. Is he nervous? God, you wish you could comfort him and tell him everything is your fault and not his. He always blames himself, always.

They sit in silence for a minute. It’s not an awkward silence. They’re expressing their feelings and helping each other process, so it’s a respectful silence as they try to correlate together the best words.

Leon speaks up again, “I don’t want to come between you two. You should pursue her and I’ll back off.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Leon. Don’t sell yourself short like that.”

“What are the chances she’s into both of us?” Leon speaks before he thinks, “I mean, obviously everyone would have to agree to that and I’m just spitballing ideas here-“

Ada cuts him off, “Maybe she could be. It’s not like she’s expressed her desire for a strictly monogamous relationship either.”

Leon’s voice is so quiet you barely hear it, “Do you love her?”

His voice is so vulnerable and it feels as if that alone has split your heart in half. Is he hurting over this? How long has he been hurting?

“I do.” Ada states without hesitation. She’s so sure of her feelings for you. A single tear streaks down your cheek as the emotional turmoil tears you apart inside.

“I think I do too.”

You have to cover your mouth with both hands to fight back any sounds. Your body aches with the need to sob, but you won’t allow yourself to. No, you have to be strong for both of them.

“What are the chances one of us gets our heart broken?” Leon’s voice is still so small.

“There’s always a chance. But if you love her as you say you do, you must believe the risk is worth it? For the chance that your love will be reciprocated?”

“Fuck. She could break my heart a thousand times and I’d probably ask her to do it again.”

They both burst out laughing at Leon’s confession.

“I mean, what do we do, Ada? Do we talk to her about this? Do we do it separately or together? How do we even go about it? When does someone even bring something like that up?”

You can’t take it anymore. You can’t stand the thought of your best friends hurting—your favorite people in the entire world. So you abandon your hiding spot and enter the dimly lit kitchen.

“How about now?”

Leon and Ada’s heads both whip in your direction as you nervously rub your sweaty palms on your pants in the doorway.

Once the shock wears off, Leon’s face lights up as he stands up from his stool. He takes long strides toward you before pulling you into a tight hug.

His lips place gentle kisses in your hair as he mumbles, “I missed you so damn much.”

All you can do is nod into his chest as you pull him to you even tighter. You grip each other like the other might disappear into thin air if your grasp waivers even the tiniest bit.

Leon’s smell and presence fully wraps around you and it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in weeks. Has his embrace always felt like this? Has he always felt like home?

He pulls away just enough so that he can look down at you. “Did you hear all of that?”

Your cheeks flame with your embarrassment as you nod at him once again. His attention on you alone has stolen your ability to speak. As if his mere presence has you in a chokehold.

“And?” He asks, pleading with his eyes.

All you can do is stare up at him as you try to find any words at all. Your brain feels like mush as you meet his stare and feel Ada’s burning into you.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, forcing yourself to get out what needs to be said. Your eyes open up and you speak quickly before you can talk yourself out of it.

“I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have both of my favorite people ever love me as much as I love them.”

Your eyes leave Leon’s and connect with Ada’s, “Nothing else has ever made this much sense to me.”

You bring your eyes back to Leon. His jaw has dropped and his eyes wide. He looks at you like he can’t believe those words actually left your mouth. You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face at his reaction.

“So… Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna kiss me?”

Leon blinks once before he’s crashing his lips into yours. His hands are immediately cupping your jaw as his body pushes your back against the doorframe.

Your body instantly melts at the way he handles you. The way his hands hold you to him so firmly. His soft lips dominate yours like a starved man. His firm body perfectly fits against yours. His erection jerks to life against your belly.

You whimper as he nibbles on your lip impatiently. Your body instinctively arches into him as your head lols back, silently egging him on.

You force yourself to pull away from him, remembering the other person you desperately need as well.

“Ada,” you turn your head so your eyes lock on hers. “Please, I need you.”

Leon’s lips trail from your mouth, across your jaw, and down to your throat.

Ada stands from her stool and slowly makes her way over to you. She stops when she’s a mere inches away from you.

“I could never say no to you.”

“Promise?” Your prompting causes Ada to smirk before leaning forward and capturing your lips with hers.

Leon pulls himself away from you so that Ada can be fully engrossed with you. Her body is instantly pressed up against yours as her lips force yours apart. She ravishes them like she’s searching for something and you hope to god she finds it.

Neither of their kisses are gentle and it drives you crazy. Both of their lips have sent smoke signals straight to your pussy and it has you soaked within a few minutes. You want to be embarrassed, but you can’t bring yourself to feel that way. You can’t feel anything besides the throbbing in your chest, nipples, and pussy.

Ada pulls back and stands next to Leon a few feet away from you. They devour your body with their eyes as you lick your lips and allow yourself to eat them alive with your eyes as well.

It’s still hard to believe that was almost two years ago. Not many people understood what you were talking about when you mentioned your boyfriend and girlfriend. It bothered you for a long time but not so much anymore. Your happiness is just that, your own, so no one else’s opinion really matters.

You daydream of that night anytime you go away, whether it be for work or pleasure.

This time, you were scheduled to go on a work trip for three weeks and you dreaded being away from your partners for that long, but you were also excited for the project you were helping with. Both of them had offered to accompany you, but you wouldn’t allow it. You knew their jobs could require them in an instance at any given moment, so you knew that they really did need to be home and on call.

It was a long three weeks.

You had finally made it home again. You were exhausted from the flights and airport bullshit. All you wanted to do was crawl into any bed at all and pass out for three days.

But the second your cab driver is pulling up in front of your house, Leon is throwing open the front door and hurrying down to meet you.

You’re pulling your suitcases out of the trunk when he comes to a halt beside you. He gently grabs the bags from your hands, shaking his head in disapproval of you doing the heavy lifting yourself.

You thank the driver, giving him a large tip for leaving you alone the whole ride. You always hated cab drivers who tried to make small talk. Like just drive the car, step on it actually.

The second Leon passes through the threshold of the house, he’s tossing your bags to the side and pulling you into his chest. You allow yourself to fall into his embrace, too tired for much else.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He whispers into your ear, “Never torture me like this again. I’ll roll over and die next time I swear. I’m gonna have to put a ring on that finger and a baby in that belly so I can keep you safe in the house forever.”

You giggle into his chest and shake your head, “You’ve really gone crazy, huh?”

“Never been more clear headed in my life.”

“Sounds like something a crazy person would say.”

He cups your chin between his fingers, “The first thing you do when you finally get home is call me crazy? How dare you?” Then he’s pulling your lips into his with a searing kiss.

He’s the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend.

Always wants to be next to you when you’re around. Needs to protect you and cherish you. When you’re gone, he mopes around waiting for you to get back. When you’re both home, he can’t stay away for long. Always ending up searching you out and demanding your undivided attention. Surely if he had ears and a tail, they’d be perked up and wagging whenever you’re near him.

And you absolutely love it.

You pull your lips from his, smiling up at him. He smiles, or more like beams, right back at you.

A throat clears from the hallway. “How was your flight?”

Your heart rate immediately picks up at the sound of Ada’s voice.

Before you even realize it, you’re rushing over to her. You nearly trip over your own feet in your haste to get to her.

The second you’re within reach, you’re throwing your arms around her body and nuzzling your face into her neck. She chuckles and shakes her head at you in response, but doesn’t do anything to stop you. Oh no, she pulls you even tighter against her.

If Leon’s a puppy, Ada is a cat.

She’ll miss you while you’re gone, but never admit the words aloud. But her eyes and purrs say it all when you’re back in her arms. She won’t come barking at the door upon your arrival, but she will make her presence known. She’ll quietly demand attention, but she’ll still make you come and get her.

Both of their devotion runs just as deep, but they each express it in such different ways.

You hear Leon’s footsteps approach you from behind.

“You’re mine tonight, right? I won’t make it through the night without you.”

“Fat chance, Leon.” Ada states firmly.

“I’m not letting her go tonight. Cannot, will not.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“I’m keeping her tonight.”

“Like fuck you are. I’m fucking taking her and I’m gonna fuck her so loud there won’t be anywhere in this house you could go where you won’t hear it.”

You cut into their little dispute, “This isn’t a fucking pissing contest. It’s not up to you two. I can decide where I want to stay tonight.”

“With me, obviously.” Leon says, crossing his arms with an attitude.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep alone in my room tonight.”

“NO!” They both shout at the same time. You try to fight back the smile creeping up your face, but fail miserably. You can’t help it, they really are your sweet little pets.

“Then we compromise.”

“How? What do you need?” Ada asks, cupping your cheek and making you look her right in the eyes.

“You’ll both just refuse my idea anyways.”

“Try me.” Leon says. He’s brought himself much closer to you than he was previously. His words are spoken right into your ear and you can’t help the chills that sneak up your spine.

“Can you both stay with me tonight? I missed you both so much. I’ll lay in the middle. You guys won’t have to touch or anything. I just want you both right now. I know we usually keep things separate, but maybe just this one time? For me? Then we can go back to how things usually are.” Your voice is pleading, but you don’t really care. You are pleading with them.

Silence follows for what feels like minutes, but in reality is probably just a few seconds.

“Anything for you. I need to be with you so much too.” Leon is the first to speak. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and you almost lean into his hand.

You stare into Ada’s eyes again. You can tell she wants to refuse, but she also misses you so much. She might not say it aloud, but her whole body aches with the need to stay close to you. Is she willing to cross her boundaries just to stay with you tonight? Yes, absolutely yes.

“Okay.” She finally agrees and you pull her into a kiss. You could thank her, tell her how much you appreciate it, but you know she doesn’t care much for words. She’d rather you kiss her and show her how you feel.

You pull back and look between the two. “Alright. Okay. Right. I’m beat, you guys ready to come to bed with me?”

They agree easily and it’s not long before everyone is changed into their comfy clothes and tucked underneath the covers.

You lay in the middle of the bed, Ada on your left and Leon on your right. You lay facing Ada, your arm and leg thrown over her while Leon spoons you from behind. They make sure neither of them is crossing over the other, only touching you.

Of course you’ve laid between them before, but never for the whole night. Once it’s time for bed, you usually go to sleep with one of them for one on one time. It’s always been the best way to maneuver the relationship and everyone is usually happy with that arrangement.

Tonight is a bit weird, but you’re happy to be with both of them. You’ve always liked the idea of something like this, but they’ve always wanted their alone time at night. It’s not like that’s the only time you can be alone with one of them. You’re alone with each of them often, but they’ll never have enough. Neither will you honestly.

Leon shifts his body slightly and you suddenly feel his full erection pressed against your ass.

“Leon,” you scold him, but he just chuckles.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m not the only one who missed you, you know?”

“I know, I can feel it.”

He laughs again before the room falls back into comfortable silence.

But of course it’s not long before Leon is grinding his dick into you slowly. He’s trying to be discreet, but it’s obvious to everyone in the bed what he’s doing.

“Leon.”

This time it’s Ada who speaks up and scolds him. Her voice is stern and even has you going completely still.

“Oh please, Ada. You really gonna act like you’re not as desperate for her as I am? As if.”

“I’m not the one acting like a dog in heat right now.”

“First of all-“

You cut Leon off, “Guys seriously? That’s enough. There are three sexually frustrated people in one bed right now and I don’t think the best solution is tearing each other's heads off. Knock it off.”

Leon grinds his dick into you even harder.

“So you admit it too? You need this just as much as me. Come on baby, let me fix all of your problems. Let me fuck you to sleep.”

“For fucks sake.” Ada huffs out.

“Ada,” you whisper to her shyly. She turns her head towards you, your faces a mere inches apart. “I want you both so bad. I’ve been trying to sleep and just ignore it, but he’s teasing me and I can’t take it anymore.”

She whispers back, “Do you want me to go?”

“No, fuck no. I want you to stay. I want you both to stay. I’m desperate for you and him.”

Leon speaks up, “We can make it work. Take turns, whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll stay out of your way when you need me to and you’ll stay out of mine. It’s been a long three weeks. Whatever the princess wants, she should get. Don’t you agree?”

Leon’s hand grips your hip, pulling your ass back against his dick. You both make pathetic noises at such deep contact.

“Is that what you want? Both of us to share you right now?” Ada asks, her hand reaching out and cupping your cheek.

“Yes. I need it.”

That’s all it takes for Ada to press her lips into yours and slide her tongue along the seam of your mouth, asking for entrance. You oblige gladly and slip your tongue against hers, whining into the kiss as Leon continues to grind into you.

You reach back in an attempt to touch Leon, but he swats your hand away.

“Tonight is all about you, baby doll. Just focus on feeling good, we’ll take care of you.”

You whimper into Ada’s mouth at Leon’s words. You never considered yourself to be a strictly submissive person before the two of them, but now it’s undeniable—inevitable. You can’t manage to keep yourself from following their every command. You’ll fall to your knees for them before either even has to ask.

Giving yourself over to them is easy. It’s what they’ll put your body through, the limits both of them are obsessed with pushing, that’s… not so easy.

Every thrust of Leon’s hips against your ass pushes your pussy into Ada. Your body feels like it’s being teased from both sides and it’s driving you crazy. This little bit of friction already isn’t enough. You need more. More what? You’re not sure, but given the circumstances, you’re not at all feeling picky.

Leon’s mouth is directly against your ear. “You want me to fuck you just like this? Wanna scream into your girlfriend's mouth while I pound you with my cock?”

You arch your back, pushing your ass firmly into his cock. “Please. Want it so bad.”

You’re already soaked. It’s been a long, miserable three weeks without being touched. Sure, you’d touch yourself when you needed it, but you won’t even attempt to convince yourself it’s at all the same thing. Nothing compares to their hands on you.

You’re so desperate, so lost in the attention you’re receiving that you don’t realize how you’ve been sucking on Ada’s tongue consistently until she laughs.

Your eyes widen as a blush grows across your face. You try to pull your head back, but Ada is quick to pull your mouth back to hers. She kisses you deeply before her lips start to trail across your jaw, slowly approaching your neck.

Leon’s thumbs slip underneath the waistband of your pants. Your position is too awkward for you to lift your hips to help him. But Ada picks up on what he wants and helps lift your hips as he frees you of your pants and panties, all in one quick swipe.

His fingers are instantly circling your clit and slipping between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for us.” He groans into your hair. “Ada, feel how wet our sweet girl is.”

Ada doesn’t hesitate as her fingers toy with you right alongside Leon’s. She bites into your shoulder at the feeling of your arousal coating her fingers, a quiet moan escaping her lips.

Leon grabs your leg and drapes it over Ada’s hips, opening up and exposing your cunt for him. Ada is quick to grip your hip and hold you in place for him.

Your clit is firmly pressed against her leg. The position is emphasizing the throbbing of your needy pussy and it has you whining out your wordless pleas.

Ada and Leon are both very familiar with your noises. They know what you’re asking for without you having to speak it out loud.

“You want me to fuck you now? So impatient. Do you need it that bad? Need me to split you in half?”

You nod frantically, the seductive tone of his voice driving you mad. Neither one of them moves or makes an attempt to pleasure you.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me.” You finally find the words, them coming out more abrasive than intended. But they don’t mind, oh no, Ada smirks as Leon chuckles at your neediness.

“You heard her,” Ada finally speaks. She pulls her mouth away from your skin so she can get a good look at your face as Leon positions his cock at your entrance.

You’re desperately clinging to Ada, bracing yourself in anticipation of his thrusts. It’s been so long, you’re all in dire need of each other. You know he’s not going to hold back; you know his pace will be brutal and punishing and holy shit do you need it so bad. So fucking bad.

Your eyes roll back into your head as he pushes his cock slowly into you until he’s completely bottomed out. His balls are rubbing against Ada’s leg, but she makes no protests. She’s too focused and absolutely enthralled with the look on your fucked out face.

Leon only holds still for a few moments before he does exactly what you expected him to. He’s pounding your pussy like he’s trying to resuscitate you with his cock. Which is very contradicting to the way his thrusts are taking your breath away.

You stare into Ada’s dark lust blown eyes as you struggle to keep yours open. Your eyelids flutter with each shock of pleasure coursing through your body.

The harder Leon fucks you into Ada, the more friction you gain on your clit from her thigh. You’re already so close, feeling your pussy clenching around Leon’s fat cock.

“I can feel how close you are, baby. This tight little pussy is squeezing my cock so tight. You gonna milk me dry? Gonna let me fill this pussy with my come?”

With Leon’s words, Ada is instantly sliding her hand between your thighs and rubbing her fingers against your clit so fast you can barely stand the overwhelming feeling. It’s too much, way too fucking much, but it’s so fucking good. So good in fact-

“I’m coming! Oh fuck,” you whine out as pathetic moans pour from your mouth nonstop. Your nails are digging into Ada’s shoulders and you can’t stop it. You need something to hold onto as you shake and fall apart between them.

Leon pulls out of you as Ada lays you on your back. You’re panting, head foggy from your orgasm.

Leon climbs back on top of you and thrusts is cock into your sloppy and sticky pussy.

Your fingers cling to the sheets beneath you as your eyes search for Ada. You notice her back to you as she heads for the door.

“W-where are you going?” you squeak out, body overstimulated as Leon continues shoving his cock deep into your pussy.

“Be right back,” Ada turns and looks at you, seeing the unsure look on your face. “I promise.” You nod at her and she exits the room.

You look up at Leon, finally looking at his face for the first time since he’s been inside you.

“Hi,” he smiles at you.

“Hi.”

And he finally kisses you, way too softly compared to his aggressive thrusts. You wrap your arms around him, gripping him tightly.

You get lost in the kiss, blissfully unaware of how much time has passed. Maybe 10 seconds, maybe 3 hours. All you know is you’ll never get enough of this. You could literally climb inside his body and live there and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m gonna cream this pussy. Gonna stuff you full with my come. You’re gonna feel it as your girlfriend fucks you, knowing you belong to both of us. Got us both fucking pussy whipped. God, I could stay inside you forever, fuck. I’m coming, holy shit, I’m coming.”

Leon lets out a loud whine as he comes hard. You feel his come filling you up, just the way you like it. His cock is kicking and throbbing inside of you and you feel it all. You feel it against every sensitive spot inside of you.

Leon finally pulls out of you and his come is instantly rushing out of you, pooling on the sheets beneath your ass cheeks.

“I knew you were gonna milk me dry. Now be a good girl for Ada and take everything she gives you, yeah?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, before he lays down next to you. Behind him stands a naked Ada with a lubed up strap-on secured tightly to her hips.

You whine just looking at how big the toy is. It’s thicker and longer than Leon’s cock, which is already fucking huge. They’re trying to kill you and they’re going to succeed. They’re going to kill you.

“Come here, princess,” Leon pulls your back into his sweaty chest. He pulls your shirt over your head, exposing your braless chest for both of them to ogle at.

He slowly eases your legs open, wrapping them around his. Every private piece of you is all on display for Ada and she couldn’t look more hypnotized if she tried. She’s good at keeping a stone face as she dominates you, but you love when she can’t hold back her amazement with you. When it consumes her and there’s no hiding it.

She snaps back to reality and makes her way between your legs. Your hands shoot to Leon’s hips, bracing yourself again to be fucked raw.

“Tell her you want it, princess. Be a good girl and tell her exactly what you want.” Leon instructs you as Ada rubs the lube around on the toy.

“I… I want you to fuck me with your cock, mommy. I wanna be a good girl and come all over it for you. Can I please take mommy’s cock?” you plead and feel Leon’s cock go semi hard at your words.

“Fuck, you’re making me hard again. Look at what you do to us. You're goddamn perfect.”

You look up at Ada and she nods in agreement with Leon’s words before lining the toy up with your hole.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Ada instructs and you comply immediately. You suck in a large breath of air and hold it for a few seconds before releasing it. And as you breathe out, Ada shoves her cock all the way into you.

You scream out as your back arches into her body. Your hands leave Leon and immediately cling to Ada’s hips as she slowly, but deeply fucks you.

“Mommy, fuck. That feels so good. Oh god, I’m already close,” you whine out, holding back tears.

“Hold it. Don’t come until I tell you to.”

She knows what telling you to wait does to you. You fight it hard, not letting her words push you over the edge. You’ll be a good girl. You’ll let her fuck you until she’s satisfied and then she’ll let you come all over her. But fuck, it’s so hard. Your pussy is instinctively clenching around her, trying to keep her cock as deep inside of you as it can go.

You throw your head back and pathetically whine into Leon’s neck. He rubs soothing circles into your belly as Ada presses her forehead into yours. Your whole body is shaking with the need to come, threatening to combust and erase you from existence completely.

Ada picks up the pace slowly at first, easing you into it, but it doesn’t last long. She can’t hold herself back anymore and soon she’s fucking into you brutally.

You can’t hold back the noises constantly leaving your mouth. Between whining, moaning, panting, and incoherently babbling, you at some point start crying. Tears are streaming down your face as every muscle in your body trembles.

“Doing such a good job,” Leon praises you, lips against your hair.

“Mmm-mommy,” your voice is pleading.

“I think you deserve your reward. What do you think, Leon?” Ada questions.

He doesn’t respond with words, but rather brings his fingers to your swollen, dripping clit. He doesn’t have to move them. All he does is apply firm pressure and your clit throbbing against his fingers sends you over the edge.

You’re screaming and shaking and quivering and crying and you can’t stop. Your body has imploded into a supernova of pure pleasure. You never want to come down, but at the same time, the ecstasy is teetering on a fine line of pain and pleasure.

Ada’s thrusts finally stop and Leon takes his fingers off of you. Your vision is blurry and your body is numb.

It takes a few minutes for you to come back down to earth, but when you do, you realize Ada and Leon are just staring at you. Almost in awe–almost in complete wonder.

“Has she ever done that for you?” Leon asks Ada.

“Nope.”

“Me either.”

You cut in breathlessly, “What?”

Leon grips your chin and forces you to look between your legs at the absolute mess on your thighs and sheets. Even Ada and Leon’s thighs are soaked and it dawns on you what happened.

“Oh god,” you gasp in embarrassment. You try to shut your legs, but the two of them work together to keep them open.

“Are you embarrassed?” Leon teases and you refuse to look either of them in the eyes.

“You’re so perfect,” Ada praises as she massages your thighs, causing you to whine at the contact.

Squirting, something you believed you weren’t capable of doing, didn’t just happen in front of one of them, but both of them. You’ll never live this down.

“Fuck, I need you again. Get on your hands and knees for me.” Leon demands, but no one moves. You’re too embarrassed and Ada’s still too shocked to respond.

“Ada,” Leon gets her attention. “A little help here?”

She nods as she removes the toy from her hips, tossing it somewhere to the side. She gets out from between your legs and sits up against the headboard. She pulls and Leon pushes you towards her, positioning you with your face between her thighs and ass up in the air for Leon.

“You wanna eat mommy’s pussy while he breeds your pussy again, sweet girl?” Ada speaks and her filthy words have you whimpering. Ada doesn’t always participate in dirty talk, so when she does it’s a special occasion. You could never say no to her when she asks so nicely.

You nod frantically before bringing your face to her wet cunt. You gently stroke her with the tip of your tongue and she bites her lip, holding eye contact with you.

You continue to tease her, but your face falls fully against her as Leon presses into you again. Your thighs are already quivering and you have no idea how you’ll survive taking him again.

Ada runs her fingers through your hair, “Just focus on me, love. You’re doing so well.”

The praise has you sucking her harshly and squeezing your eyes tightly. You wanted to be used and fucked like this and you’ll be damned if you tap out now. You can take, you know you can, so you fucking will. Even if it does kill you.

But after a few minutes of Leon’s thrusts and the taste of Ada on your tongue, your brain turns to mush again. All you can do is lol your tongue out of your mouth as Ada grinds against it, chasing her long awaited high.

With the way Ada’s thighs tremble and Leon’s thrusts become sloppy, you know they’re both close and you’re desperate for them to come.

You somehow find the strength to suck on Ada again as she grinds into your face and clench around Leon at the same time. When they both cry out at the same time, you know you’ve done it.

Ada’s thighs squeeze around your head, holding you tightly in place as you feel Leon fill you with his come again. You’re exhausted and once Ada releases your head, you fall face first into the sheets.

Ada and Leon share a look, before Leon raises both his hands for a high five. Ada cocks her eyebrow before shaking her head, actually giving him high fives. Leon smiles like an idiot at successfully getting Ada to go along with his antics.

Leon pulls out of you and you immediately collapse, curling yourself into a fetal position on your side. Soft snores leave your lips and they both hold back their laughs.

“I guess I don’t mind sharing as much as I used to,” Leon whispers to Ada.

“Me too.”

~masterlist~

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