#but yeah i wrote it out in tags and had to sit back and reconsider my life for a minute | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tiptapricock · 5 months

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Bloodline

Fandom: Mortal Kombat Legends: Cage Match

Relationships: Johnny Cage/Lord Raiden

Rating: E

Some misc content tags: godly sex, magic that makes Raiden horny, handjobs, blowjobs, nonstandard electric genitalia, trans!Johnny Cage, weird sex (like rly weird), brief breeding kink/fantasy (not acted upon), touch starved Lord Raiden, made up cage cult lore

Ao3 link also but I wrote it all in tumblr drafts like an idiot first so it’s here too

———

“Johnny Cage, please… sit still.”

Raiden’s grip tightened on the man sitting in front of him, attempting to stop his squirming as he ran the wash cloth over his shoulders once more.

“Ah come onnnnn,” Johnny whined, “it’s cold!”

Raiden sighed. “It is meant to be. You have been infected by Netherrealm magic, Johnny Cage. These marks, the demon blood sitting in your veins…” He ran his fingers over the lines and symbols on Johnny’s back before quickly pulling away. The man below him shivered. “The healing waters of the Sky Temple will cleanse it from you,” Raiden continued, “but you must let me do my work.” He paused for a moment, softening. “I am sorry for any discomfort. I will try to be gentle.”

Johnny mumbled something quietly under his breath about shampoo and steam spas, before squaring his shoulders and reluctantly settling in once more. Raiden smiled, turning to dip the rag in the cool, glowing bowl of water on the table behind them. He wrung it out briefly, humming under his breath as he turned back to look over the skin yet to be cleaned.

“Lean forward, please,” he instructed. Johnny dipped his head down, and Raiden pushed the hair from the back of his neck, bringing the cloth to the last of the large diamond still drawn at the top of his spine. Johnny hissed at the contact.

“Why don’t you finish telling me about your fight with Shinnok?” Raiden prompted, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. He did not wish for this to be unpleasant, truly, but it still had to be done. Raiden could sense the touch of the Netherrealm on Johnny Cage, buzzing alongside… something else he could not place. It made him uneasy.

“Oh yeah!” Johnny’s head shot up in excitement before he froze, ducking back down apologetically. Raiden chuckled. “Where did we leave off again…? Oh! Right, kidnapped and tortured by my beautiful and demonic ex-costar. Alright, so—”

Raiden listened intently as Johnny once again launched into a colorful description of the last few days, recounting much of his own hardship and the battles he faced. Raiden worked the cloth slowly from the peak of his back down to the ink on his tailbone, moving up to his arms when he was finished there. He had already heard much of this story from Ashrah’s report to the temple earlier that day, but it was good to hear Johnny Cage’s side of things, and he was entertaining to listen to, if a bit grating.

“—And then I had a fuckin’ epiphany, you know? Throughout my life I’ve been told I’m special, and yeah, that sounds like the most stereotypical asshole claim to make coming from me, but when you’ve got Netherrealm women coming after your ass, it makes a guy reconsider! It was like I could feel this… this power in me.”

Raiden stilled his ministrations against Johnny Cage’s sternum, glancing down at him curiously. Ashrah had not mentioned that.

“It popped out earlier in the fight,” Johnny continued, “a little bit, at least, but I thought it was some trick of the street lights or a lucky hit, I dunno. But then I felt it. Solid. I knew what I had to do so I just went like—” He mimed a punch with one of his free arms, (“Bam!”) and for a moment, his skin lit up in green.

Raiden gasped, a jolt of brightness coursing from the surface of Johnny Cage’s skin into his own. It swept through his being with a surge of foreign mystic energy that left his fingers tight and his head spinning.

“I know right?” Johnny continued, oblivious. “It was wild. But anyway, he couldn’t touch me with it. I could just, bam bang pow! And he took it like a test dummy!”

Raiden nearly buckled. Every sound effect was punctuated with another flash of Johnny’s power, each new surge of light coursing through Raiden’s mind in a wave of heat and desire. A desire for service, a desire for touch. He could not focus. His fingers squeezed for purchase on Johnny’s shoulders, attempting to brace himself, his head light with visions of mortal bodies and twisting, rippling, green.

“And then it—Woah there big man, are you alright?”

Raiden groaned as Johnny Cage’s hand brushed over his thigh, flinching when he squeezed it slightly to steady him as he swayed.

Raiden blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure.

“I am not… I am not sure…” he grit out. His voice was ragged, his mind warm.

Johnny looked concerned. “Maybe you should be the one sitting down right now. Hang on.”

He moved to get up from his chair, and something in Raiden’s chest flared. Immediately, he jerked forward to push him back down, his hands pressed tight against Johnny’s chest, the washcloth dribbling a line of blue over his stomach. Raiden panted. It felt as if every inch of his being had been set ablaze, something foreign and feverish stirring between his legs. This was what he had felt before, past the shadows of demonic blood and rage, this power.

Johnny stared up at Raiden, his eyes wide. “Sooo… this is new.” He laughed awkwardly. “You’re not gonna go all mad god on me too, right Ray-Man?”

Raiden smiled exasperatedly despite himself, shaking his head as he leaned closer. His mind yelled that this was not professional, that he was not acting with respect, but he could not find it in himself to care. Something drew his fingers to trace against Johnny’s jaw, something familiar in its tug, just on the edge of his memory.

Raiden swallowed. “What… what did the demons say was special about you?” he asked, his skin buzzing as he brushed idly over Johnny’s peach fuzz.

“Uhhh… something about my blood being… of the gods? I think?” he said. Ah. “I don’t know if they were being generous or what but my mom did have her fair share of weird stories about old relatives, and I mean, have you seen me?”

Raiden huffed, leaning back. “I have, Johnny Cage.”

Johnny’s eyes widened even further, and Raiden could hear the thump as his pulse quickened.

“And I believe I now understand our… situation,” Raiden continued. His mouth thinned against another wave of fuzzy heat. “There was once…an ancient group of Earthrealm champions, a clan like no other. They honed their bodies and spirits to be in the service of higher powers, to ascend beyond mortal limits and serve their deities with passion and pure will.” His hand trailed idly to Johnny’s chest. “They were bred for the gods.”

Johnny swallowed, glancing away from Raiden’s face and back to it several times in quick succession. “Sooo what you’re saying is…?”

“You, Johnny Cage, are a descendant of this clan,” Raiden explained. “Though seemingly not blessed with all their skills, it appears you still hold… you still hold their power, and it is…” Raiden made a small sound, unable to ignore the draw to the light before him, to the mark of such willing devotion. “It is intoxicating…” he whispered finally, curling into the mortal’s neck. His hat shifted upon his head, askew, but Raiden paid it no mind. His being pulsed with yearning. So close, and yet he dared not touch more.

Johnny was quiet for a moment, before Raiden felt the twitch of him smiling. “Are you saying I turn gods on with my magic warrior DNA?” he asked quietly, his voice dropping low enough to make Raiden groan.

“…Yes,” he murmured. “I would not wish to… to impose this on you. I am sorry.” His brows furrowed as he attempted to step back and give Johnny the space to leave. “I have already been much too invasive. That was not my intention. We may return to your care when I am in better—”

A hand snapped out to grip his thigh, pulling him back.

“Hold on a minute there, thunder buns.” Johnny smirked up at him, his eyes bright and his face far too mischievous. “If you’re saying you’re up for letting me service you—in like… the carnal sense—then I say clap these clouds and make me rumble. I’m more than game.”

Raiden was… shocked would not be the right word (though perhaps the one Johnny would have used jokingly if given the chance), but… flattered. Taken aback. Aroused.

He was not sure how to proceed. He was not used to the physical pleasures of mortal life, they were not something he usually desired. But this was an ancient calling, one that twisted between the very molecules of his body, reaching for him, calling him home with the promise of devout worship and a slick human mouth.

Raiden shivered.

He would not refuse this encounter today. This was an offering he would accept gratefully.

“Very well, Johnny Cage,” Raiden said, reaching up to hold the man’s face delicately. “You may serve me.”

Johnny grinned, and immediately moved to get to work.

He maneuvered the rag from Raiden’s grip easily and tossed it aside, wiping the stray wetness on his pants before his hands settled firmly on Raiden’s hips. Raiden gasped slightly at the touch, whining louder when Johnny’s fingers lit up once more, trailing white hot over the back of Raiden’s legs and the front of his stomach. The feeling was euphoric, a lost connection made whole again, an insatiable claim on flesh and blood. Raiden let his fingers card into Johnny’s hair, tugging gently with every soft moan that fell from his lips as his senses filled with a lifelong echo of old devotion.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Johnny said slyly. “How good do I make you feel, big man?How badly do you want me to touch you?”

Raiden grunted as Johnny sent another punch of charge to his core. “Enough that I cannot wait, Johnny Cage,” he answered breathlessly. “Please.”

Johnny grinned. “Of course, my Lord.”

His hands dipped beneath Raiden’s robes, tugging on the knots of his belt and the twists of fabric until the cloth came loose. Raiden could not help but sigh as his form was freed from its confines, every inch of him hard and aching, fresh light seeping from the space between his legs. He had not been so worked up in eons.

“Woah…” he heard Johnny mutter.

Raiden glanced down and found his eyes wide, managing to muster a small huff of amusement as he shifted himself closer to Johnny’s face. The light of his shaft flickered gently over his features, stray crackles of energy jumping forward as if to reach him.

“It will not hurt you,” Raiden reassured, petting his head idly. “You may touch it.”

Johnny reached forward slowly, pausing only for a moment to glance up at Raiden before finally taking him in hand. Raiden hissed, feeling the hum of energy against warm skin as Johnny stroked him experimentally. It had been so long.

Johnny’s pace quickly increased, confidence returning to his face as he seemed to get a feel for Raiden’s form. His fingers flicked over the length, deft and smooth, his thumb catching under the stuttering tip for a moment and pressing before sliding back down to the base. Raiden keened deep in his chest, a stray bolt streaking out to fizzle harmlessly against Johnny’s cheek.

“I’ve gotta say, this is definitely the weirdest handjob I’ve ever given,” Johnny commented. “But, but, it also may be the hottest. So. Win.”

Raiden was too lost to respond. His gut was churning as Johnny continued to twist him in his heated palm, his skin pumping against Raiden with mystic charge, light leaking between his knuckles and spattering hissing to the temple floor.

It was so hard to keep him in focus.

Every movement made Raiden’s mind brim with old memories. Sensations pushed forward, buoyed on a wave of genetic valor and viscous light that made his stomach flip and tense. Bodies long lost, opening themselves to their gods, crying out as they were taken and filled.

Raiden whined quietly, his grip tightening in Johnny’s hair.

He could sense how precious they were, tender weapons formed from human shapes, built to serve their devotion. Something surged forth as Johnny’s aura sparked, and Raiden’s head tipped back in a silent shout, the echo of hundreds of hands sliding over his torso, rubbing and touching and pressing ghostly kisses into the space of his thighs.

“Johnny,” he pleaded softly, though he did not know what for. Did Johnny even know what he was doing? Did he know what bliss he was pulling from Raiden’s form?

His grip was so firm for a mortal’s. Raiden could feel the steadiness of it, the way Johnny’s energy burned to meet Raiden’s own. His head felt dizzy with it. Heavy and warm, like clouds on the precipice of rain.

His hips began to cant slightly into Johnny’s fist, the air around them growing heated and prickly as his thrusts quickly turned harsh in desperation. Johnny squeezed around Raiden’s base with a small chuckle, his palm tightening when his length slid back to squeeze around the tip. Raiden’s breath burst out in a plume of static.

“Come on, big guy,” Johnny coaxed. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

Raiden whined again. He was, Elder Gods, he was, but he could not speak. His mind was too deep in tangles of pleasure and old, lingering prayers, his thoughts swimming with visions of fruitful harvests and warm hearths. Yes. The power surged in satisfaction. Johnny Cage had earned such a reward. How well he had served him. How good he felt.

Maybe it was his lack of response that urged Johnny to move his other hand. He reached between Raiden’s legs, intent, perhaps, to find more flesh to massage, an expected weight to cup and roll. Instead, his fingers slid over the wetness there, the plasma sparking under his touch, and a jolt shuddered through Raiden’s legs. He heard Johnny hum thoughtfully, his hand slowing on Raiden’s shaft for only a moment, before—

“Ah!”

Raiden tugged harshly at Johnny’s hair as a burst of heat curled into him, soft, firm fingers sliding deep into his being.

“Johnny Cage—!” he began, but he was already lost. Like a coiled spring, his form burst, warm, vibrant light spilling in jagged streaks over Johnny’s face, a gush of glowing slickness following from below as something deep and primal rejoiced in the air around them.

Johnny looked smug as he stroked Raiden through it, his movements only slowing when Raiden finally gasped something harsh under his breath and flinched away. He removed his touch then, making sure to catch Raiden’s eye as he licked his fingers languidly.

“My my my,” Johnny said quietly. “Wasn’t that… electric.”

Raiden’s grip softened against his scalp, and he managed a small laugh as his chest heaved. What a strange human. He swallowed thickly, running a hand over Johnny’s head again as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Raiden was sated, yes, the calling deep within him quieted to a lulling hum, but… he did not feel satisfied. There was something… unfinished… an itch.

Ah.

An offering still to be rewarded.

Raiden’s hand moved down to slide over Johnny’s cheek, smearing idly through his own spend as it came to rest on his jaw. He felt the shift of weight as the man leaned into him.

“What’s up, lightning rod?” Johnny asked with a grin. “I leave you speechless?”

Raiden chuckled softly again. “No, no, it is just that you…you have not received your blessing.”

Johnny blinked. “My what now?”

Raiden brought his other hand to Johnny’s face, cupping it carefully as he tilted his gaze to better meet his own. He felt as if he were floating on instinct. This new pull was softer, but insistent; guiding him forward, pushing his mind to other ends. There were two halves of this exchange, Raiden saw that now, and he had yet to fulfill his own.

“Your blessing, Johnny Cage,” he repeated. “Your release,” he emphasized.

“What does that mean exac—oh ok!” Johnny squeaked as Raiden ran a thoughtful thumb over his lip.

“It means…Open for me…”

It was Johnny’s turn to look shocked then. He stared up at Raiden, a soft flush spreading beneath the scrapes and bruises on his cheeks.

“You will still be able to breathe, if that is a worry,” Raiden reassured. He knew human density caused issues with such matters. Johnny shook his head immediately, muttering a quiet No I’m fine, under his breath, before slowly leaning forward to open his mouth. Raiden smiled, petting his temple appreciatively.

“You are indeed special, Johnny Cage,” he said. “Your blood echoes with that of those who came before you, those who swore their beings to their faith.” He began to guide the flickering tip of his shaft forward, tilting his hips slowly until it slid across Johnny’s tongue. Raiden gasped quietly at the contact. “I wish to show you why,” he breathed, watching as Johnny’s eyes fluttered closed. “I wish to show you the worth of this devotion.”

Raiden pushed until his length hit the back of Johnny’s throat, and then paused. Even this, perfectly still, was so much. Raiden was not as hard as he had been before, but he was still sensitive. Energy crackled softly against Johnny’s lips, his mouth humming around Raiden’s girth, and Raiden felt himself shudder for a moment. Being this close to a mortal, so deep inside… it felt right. And yet it… it was not enough. His soul ached for more.

Johnny made a low sound as Raiden’s hips twitched forward slightly, his eyes pressed closed and his brows furrowed. His skin flickered bright for a moment, as if involuntarily, and it sent a thrum of power pulsing up between his gums. Raiden hissed, his hips rocking harder on impulse, caught by the breathless sensation and the dazed warmth that settled once again over his thoughts.

Perfect. Holy. He knew what had to be done.

Careful to start his pace easy, Raiden began steadily bucking into Johnny’s mouth. His lips were plush, his throat squeezing effortlessly around him as it welcomed him deeper. Wet and giving. Perfect.

Raiden’s thrusts quickened, his own slick leaving sticky trail on Johnny’s chin, parting messily in strings of luminescent spend and popping light.

“You are wonderful, Johnny Cage,” he whispered, a sound rumbling deep in his chest as he pressed himself even further inside. Johnny made a confused noise below him, but Raiden paid it no mind. “You will see how worthy you are,” he breathed, “what a gift you have earned.”

Raiden canted forward hard into Johnny’s mouth, fingers squeezing around the back of his head as he held him flush against his pelvis and stilled. He caught his breath for only a moment, panting, before a moan ripped from his chest as he let himself expand.

Quick as lighting, currents of form bled outwards from Raiden’s tip, rushing through Johnny’s body in seeking, buzzing, tendrils. Johnny moaned loudly beneath him, his fingers scrambling up to squeeze tight at Raiden’s hips as his skin flickered and tensed with a web of undulating light; Raiden’s light.

He could feel every inch of Johnny now, from the inside out. Every nerve of his system, every charged breath. He pushed his being through the expanse of Johnny’s lungs, feeling the crackle of air before rushing to the tips of his toes and the curve of his thighs. Bolts streaked from the surface of his skin to curl back and leave fluttering touches on whatever they could reach; his face, his chest, his cock.

Raiden moaned softly as he concentrated himself there, between Johnny’s legs, pushing between his folds and playing idly with the flesh there. He was so wet, the head of his cock engorged as it rubbed on the inside of his boxers, sticky and twitching as Raiden pressed against it. Johnny keened, his hips grinding down as Raiden tugged on it slightly, rolling the tip in his light as Johnny humped into the volts of tactile pleasure, chasing his release.

Raiden could feel the knot of power inside him, a twisting mass of green undulating against Johnny’s soul and mixing with Raiden’s own. It called him deeper, urging him to press inside, and Raiden groaned, sliding a part of himself to the place it coaxed him to. The place it wanted him to fill, the place it wanted him to make whole.

Hands of light broke forth to caress Johnny’s stomach, sliding up to play with the buds of his chest and skim the small scars beneath them as Raiden continued to finger him slowly.

He was truly a specimen. He was brash, but kind, and his lineage was great; a line that would surely flourish should it be brought into the modern era. Raiden could so easily sire more… stake his divine claim on this mortal body, reinvigorate his bloodline. He could create more beautiful warriors, more who were so dedicated to life and brimming with passion, carrying a god’s blood in their veins. It would be so easy… so simple…

He let himself indulge for a moment, a soft sound falling from his lips as he ground forward and let his thoughts slip into visions of a full womb and laughing children.

Perhaps then he would not be alone. Perhaps then he could bring something of light to this world instead of blood and pain.

Perhaps…

Raiden let his form retreat from Johnny’s core with a soft breath.

No… he was not so selfish as to cross that line. It was a wish for another lifetime, another day with a body that was not his own. He focused instead on pleasuring Johnny as he was now, on the bliss of his walls squeezing around Raiden and the sing of near orgasmic adrenaline in his veins. Raiden was not far behind. They would complete this worship together.

“Johnny Cage,” he murmured, “son of Karlatun, descendant of Scandinavia and Greece.” His form pulsed its touch within him, and Johnny moaned in response. “You have done well for this lord,” Raiden said, gritting his teeth as the next slide through Johnny’s being made his mind burn. “You are worthy of my blessing.”

And with that, Raiden let go once more.

A rippling crackle of light burst through Johnny’s body, carrying with it every breath of ecstasy forged from the past, every signal of pleasure Raiden could muster. It squeezed and lifted great sounds from them both, a wave of thunderous heat spilling over Johnny’s shoulders as Raiden curled over him, feeding him every second of it, every blissful spark.

He released until he was shaking, until his being could give no more. Raiden heaved above Johnny, fingers clutching preciously at the curves of his neck as his form slowly coiled back into a shivering weight on his tongue.

What perfection this was… what a beautiful end to prayer…

Raiden swallowed, licking his lips dryly as he leaned back and straightened. Johnnys eyes were still closed below him, a blissful tenseness to his features that looked almost as if he were asleep. Raiden ran a finger over his cheek, pushing a lock of sweaty hair behind his ear before beginning to slowly pull out. He hissed under his breath as he did so, too tender to touch even himself.

Johnny was silent as Raiden stepped fully away, his touch leaving the man only briefly to collect the cloth from the floor and return to clean him as best he could. His breaths came out shaky as Raiden touched him again, his lips reddened and sticky.

“Are you alright?” Raiden asked, wiping the lines of spend from Johnny’s chin.

The man’s eyes slid open, glassy and still blown wide, but able to find Raiden easily. “Yeah,” he rasped out. “Fuckin’… more than alright. Shit…”

Raiden smiled and continued to clean him. “Good,” he said. “I would not wish to have done you harm with that display. You did very well.”

Johnny grinned lazily, and Raiden huffed slightly as he cupped the back of his head to tilt him.

“Was that your first human in a few centuries?”Johnny asked.

“Yes,” Raiden answered easily. “My work does not usually have need for this kind of coupling.” He glanced down in emphasis, and watched as Johnny’s gaze flicked between his legs, finding where Raiden’s form had already relieved itself of physical burden, his thighs fading up into nothing but a smooth mass of electricity.

Johnny clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Daaang… no round three?”

Raiden smiled again. “Not today, Johnny Cage.”

“Not today, but that means you’re still up for another round sometime, right?”

Raiden laughed. “I do not know why this is an experience you would want to repeat, but I am not… opposed to the idea, no.” Maybe it would do him good to engage in mortal pleasures more often. This was… enjoyable. Plus, he did not think he would be able to ignore the effect Johnny had on him.

“Well, ranking this against my tower of other lays,” Johnny began, “let’s see… I think that was… the second time a blowjob has given me a muscle cramp?” He smirked. “But this was way more fun than college wrestling.”

Raiden smiled, moving to cleanse the towel before returning. “Is that high praise?” he asked.

“Very.”

He hummed, running the cloth down over Johnny’s chest. “You are an interesting man, Johnny Cage. I appreciate your… willingness for new experiences.”

“Eh, it’s what makes life fun, plus,” his hand moved up to smooth idly over Raiden’s thigh, “I gotta continue the work of my bloodline somehow, right?”

Raiden stilled, glancing up to find Johnny’s eyes watching him, sharp with intent. His breath hitched.

Johnny held his gaze for a moment, something flickering in the air between them, before his face melted back into its previous innocence. His grip lightened.

“By the way,” he said, “do you have laundry out here? ‘Cause I really need to wash my pants.”

#cot n balls #cot n balls writing #nsft #mortal kombat #mortal kombat legends #mortal kombat cage match #johnny cage #lord raiden #raiden mortal kombat #mortal kombat raiden #what is their… ship name #raicage #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat legends cage match

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oo-hazel-oo · 2 years

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hi everyone!

it's been a long time since i posted any writing, but i wanted to share a little fic that i wrote as a very belated birthday present for the amazing @cosmicghostie. it's got a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, and some quality brotherly bonding time between thumbs (my oc) and sparks (@cosmicghostie's oc)!

i'm linking some other lucky batch fics for those interested in reading more about these two bros!

a little thumbs fic by @just-another-dreamerr

some sparks backstory by @just-another-dreamerr

a wee brotherly bonding fic by @cosmicghostie

a day in the life of thumbs fic by yours truly :P

and finally, the lucky batch masterlist (there are so many good ones on here)!!

i'm also tagging lucky batch because i miss y'all!

@cosmicghostie @just-another-dreamerr @monako-jinn-stories @letsunity @ahsokasshoto @maygalodon @ct-69-420 @lusiawonder @longearedowlfromouterspace @lynnpaper @namesmox @generaltano

Warmth

The day Sparks and Thumbs became best bros

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thumbs watched as the most recent addition to the batch sat slumped against the wall of the hull, one leg drawn to his chest and the other lazily stretched out in front of him. It was the most relaxed he had ever seen his newest brother. His curly hair, slightly shorter than Thumbs’ own, swayed slightly in the breeze that blew in from the lowered ramp, his eyes reflecting the distant city lights that flickered like stars on the dark horizon.

Thumbs hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to his stoic brother since he had been suddenly sent to the batch. His vod was quiet, but he knew it wasn't for a lack of things to say. As the squad’s strategist, he of all people understood that it was a purposeful silence – a clandestine tool used to sever himself from the other batchers like an infected limb, sparing them from a part of himself that he must’ve believed was dangerous – and Thumbs wanted nothing more than to stitch this wounded mentality back together.

Which is why, while the rest of the batch were out on a supply run, he decided to finally approach his new brother.

“Hey! It’s Sparks, right?”

The clone in question remained arrested in place and for a second Thumbs wondered whether or not he had even heard him.

He was about to ask again when Sparks tilted his head slightly, silently observing Thumbs from his position on the floor. After performing what appeared to be a brief visual analysis, he turned back towards the open ramp, nodding his head in response.

Thumbs smiled. Progress.

“So you decided to hang back?” Thumbs asked, keeping his tone light in an attempt to ease his obviously-skeptical brother. Undeterred by the lack of response, he continued.

“Yeah, I get it. I know we all seem pretty crazy right now, but I promise that once you get to know us…” He paused, reconsidering the truth of his statement. “Well, you’ll probably think we’re even crazier.”

Sparks huffed in what seemed like amusement, the sound bringing immediate warmth to the frigid air around them. Thumbs grinned, taking the welcome gesture as an invitation to sit beside him.

The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the songs of nearby insects hidden from sight, before Sparks finally spoke.

“Why are you here?”

For a moment, Thumbs thought he was referring to his choice to sit next to him, before realizing he meant the reason he wasn’t out on the mission with the others.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Thumbs shrugged. “Didn’t seem like they needed me on this one.”

Sparks’ gaze flicked towards him briefly before focusing back on the vast space in front of them.

“You’re the strategist?”

“Yeah,” Thumbs sighed. “In theory, at least.”

“Seems weird to place a strategist with this batch.”

Thumbs knew he was right – Sparks was only confirming what he himself had thought many times before – but the comment still twinged at something buried deep within him that had never been vocalized.

“I… chose to be here. And I don’t regret it. Not for a single second.”

He immediately regretted his brusqueness as Sparks’ posture once again constricted, his mouth drawing into a thin line. So much for keeping the tone light.

The uncomfortable silence that followed was thankfully interrupted when a small animal appeared at the base of the Clover’s ramp. Thumbs watched in awe as Sparks beckoned it with a few tender snaps, the furry creature immediately obeying and snuggling up to his side. With an unexpected softness, Sparks ran two fingers down the creature’s spine, chuckling when it chirped in response. However, just as suddenly as the animal had appeared, it slipped away again, scurrying back into the night.

“Huh,” Thumbs said, having observed the strange encounter in silence. “Never seen one of those before.”

Sparks shrugged. “They’re pretty common. Saw a few the last time I was here.”

“Oh.” Thumbs cataloged the new piece of information. “You’ve traveled a lot then?”

Sparks nodded stiffly.

“You should tell that to Cypher. He loves talking about that kinda stuff.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Thumbs fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unwilling to let the conversation slip away again, but unsure how exactly to proceed. So, he asked the first question that came to mind.

“What’s your favorite planet?”

“Favorite planet?” Sparks repeated incredulously.

Thumbs cringed, suddenly feeling as small as the padawans under Sparks' intense stare. For him, navigating conversations could sometimes be like navigating the battlefield – but just like in war, he had no choice but to march on.

“I think mine’s Lothal. I’ve only been there once, but it was beautiful. No water in sight – just solid earth and sun.”

Anyone who grew up on Kamino knew that the promise of stable land beneath one's feet was a privilege.

“I’m not sure I have one.” Sparks responded after a few seconds, casting his gaze back towards the floor. “But maybe someday… Someplace quiet. With lots of trees.”

His answer came as a surprise. The two of them were soldiers, forever burdened by the weight of armor, and until now, Thumbs believed that Sparks had allowed its harsh plastoid edges and carefully engineered curves to seep into the man beneath. It was a reality for many of those who were consumed by the brutality of war.

But no, he wanted quiet. He wanted to be surrounded by trees; a dream that his very name, sparks, threatened to burn.

He wondered where he got the name Sparks at all…

Thumbs was brought out his thoughts when something fell from his back pocket, clanging loudly onto the durasteel floor.

He scrambled to pick the items up before sheepishly glancing back at Sparks, who had one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“They’re… knitting needles,” he supplied.

“You knit?”

Thumbs nodded, once again surprised by Sparks’ genuine curiosity. Back with his old trainer, his not-so-secret hobby had become the brunt of many unpleasant jokes. He tried not to let it bother him but he eventually found himself knitting less and less, tired of the negative attention. He still kept his needles with him though, a good luck charm of sorts, waiting for the day they would be useful again.

“Well, I used to at least. Not much any more.”

“Why not?”

Thumbs hesitated, not wanting to get into the series of events that forced him to abandon the one activity that brought him joy during the war. He opted for a half-truth instead.

“Well, I... I don’t have any yarn.”

Sparks hummed in response; if he had any doubts about the truth of his batchmate’s statement, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he leaned over, picking up a screw that had come loose from one of the cabinets in the hull.

Thumbs watched as his brother repeatedly turned the small piece of metal between his fingers, and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. So far, all he knew about Sparks was that he traveled a lot, had an affinity for trees, was scarily good at befriending wild animals, and was obviously reluctant to open up to any of his brothers – something that he was determined to change.

“So, what was your old squad like?”

Thumbs, eyes clouded by the fog of curiosity, didn’t catch the way Sparks froze, his spine straightening and fists clenching at his sides.

“I mean, I bet no one there kni-”

“What, now you want to talk about my old squad?” Sparks interrupted, his voice quiet, but laced with bitterness. “How about we talk about yours? Why are you really here, strategist?”

Thumbs recoiled, startled not so much by what Sparks had said, but by how he said it. Something profoundly mournful had flashed across his features before disappearing behind a wall of hostility, like lightning lost in the echoes of thunder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s a bad habit, my brothers are used to it.”

Sparks scuffed his shoe against the floor of the hull.

“I’m not your brother.”

The statement was meant to sting, but Thumbs knew that something else was simmering beneath his apparent anger. He stood, knowing that despite his own instincts, right now what Sparks really needed was space.

“You should try to get some sleep before the others get back,” he said quietly, before heading back in the direction of the bunks.

Thumbs didn’t expect a reply, but spared one last look at his brother before exiting the hull. He watched for a moment as Sparks unconsciously rubbed his hands together, failing to suppress a shiver that coursed through his body.

Must not like the cold, Thumbs thought, before turning and closing the door behind him.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

The next morning, Thumbs woke slowly. Getting up was a struggle, his limbs sore from sitting on the durasteel floor the previous night. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around and found that the rest of the batch had returned from their mission, many of them now asleep in their own bunks.

He smiled when Pepper and Foxy passed, returning their friendly waves with his signature thumbs up. Thumbs was grateful to be surrounded by such a supportive batch; he just wished he could’ve gotten through to its newest member.

He knew it was hard, joining a new squad, especially Clone Force 37. They were chaotic at the best of times, disastrous at the worst. But despite their outward ferver, everyone onboard the Clover lived with the weight of their memories – images of relentless training sessions, unforgiving battles, and now-absent friends appearing whenever they dared to close their eyes – and Thumbs knew that for Sparks it was no different.

But he had looked so lost, staring out at the sky the night before, trapped on the teetering threshold of past and present.

And there Thumbs was, asking him about his favorite planet… Stars, he was useless.

The strategist had flopped back onto his bunk, one arm thrown over his face, when a pair of footsteps, quiet but firm, made their way towards him. He didn’t move, assuming it was just another squadmate heading towards the hull, when suddenly the footfalls stopped.

He lifted his arm, finding none other than Sparks standing over him.

“Sparks, I-”

Thumbs’ apology was cut off as a lump of something, something strangely soft, was thrown into his lap.

He looked down and found himself staring at a bundle of bright yellow yarn.

The smile that appeared on Thumbs’ face could’ve outshined any sun; its only competition was the one that materialized on Sparks’ own features as he turned to walk back towards the ship’s hull.

Thumbs didn’t stop smiling even as he pulled out his needles, casting onto them for the first time in years.

It was like not a day had passed since the last time he had knit, his hands moving like magic as they maneuvered the yarn, each stitch falling into their respective place. After a couple hours, the soft material began to take form and soon all that was left to do was weave in the stray strands.

Thumbs looked down at his creation feeling happier than he had in a very long time. He hoped that the pair of bright yellow gloves would help keep his newest vod warm, even when the world felt a bit cold.

And if not, he'd make him a hat too.

#the lucky batch #clone force 37 #37th battalion #clone trooper oc #star wars oc #cf37 sparks #cf37 thumbs #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #hazel writes

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sweettodo · 3 years

Text

I need longer than 7 minutes ⟿ Eren Jaeger x femreader [pt . 1]

Includes : swearing, making out, alcohol, lime, consumption, insinuation of marijuana [small reference].

Word count : 3,1k

••

This’ll be a few parts, this is my lil re-creation. I tried to make it original, but I give creds to the person who originally wrote 7 minutes, she surly will be with us forever; I’ll never forget that story :D

••

You run home from your last lecture in the English building; bag swinging and hitting your back while you sprinted across campus.

You didn’t expect to be held back twenty minutes after class; all because you got a B- on group work, your incompetent ‘buddies’ who had to help- didn’t. You did it all, in a week. Thankfully your professor had kept it somewhat short with you; letting you know you weren’t going to have to redo it.

That was besides the point though; you needed to get to the fraternity house, now. You had promised Jean and Connie you would help clean the house before people arrived. As you near the house, you pant, throat dry and your chest burns from running, your leggings made you sweat like a madman.

Running up the porch and fumbling with the doorknob, you swing open the door and see Connie, frantically grabbing cups from shelves and coffee tables, throwing them in a giant black bag and he begins shouting when you’re tossing your bag on the couch and tying your hair up, “What the fuck y/n!” He whines, “you know I don’t clean for shit!” He hollers, you snag the bag from him and he smiles childishly and plops onto the couch. Little shit. You pick up where he left off, dragging garbage by the arm into the bag.

“Maybe if you knew how to clean-” you start, Jean comes down the stairs, only in a towel, you roll your eyes, looking back at Connie, “maybe if you two got off your dead asses, you wouldn’t need me to clean for you.” You growl, steam practically flying from your ears, looking back at Jean, with that silly smile on his stupid face.

“You live here too.” Jean teasingly cackles, you huff and charge towards him, shoving a finger in his face. He looks down at you with a smug smile on his face.

“Used to- it’s not my fault I had no idea college relationships don’t work out.” He sticks his tongue out at you and ruffles your hair, stepping back and strutting away in his low hung towel.

‘I don’t get paid enough for this.’ You mumbled under your breath.

He turns a head before walking towards the staircase, “pshh, you used to be over here every day with Connie! doing whatever toxic couples do. And look at you, still here for him.” He teases, Connie laughs, throwing his head back and standing up, walking towards the kitchen.

“That’s because she still loves me.” He sneers, you drop the bag on the floor and head towards your bag, swinging it over your shoulder. The boys start towards you, begging for you to stay, “I didn’t mean it! Please help.” Connie begs, you comply and place your bag down once more.

“Yeah let me get dressed and I’ll help! Don’t leave us! Please.” Jean implores, quickly running up the stairs, followed by hearing a door shut. You continue cleaning up the downstairs rooms, cleaning what needed to be disenfected so on so forth. Jean did in fact help you, while Connie prepared the bar, and drank half of it while he was at it.

Finally stepping in front of the door, taking a gander at the clean and organized house, surfaces cleaned and dusted, the garbage needed to be emptied a total of twelve times by the time you were done.

You though- you were proud at the work you’ve done, disappointed at the fact you knew it would only stay like this for not even two hours, knowing this house would be full of kids like every weekend, “let me go back and get ready, I’ll be back in a little.” Before they get a chance to say anything, your ass is out the door and walking down the sidewalk to the neighboring dorms, the sun slowly disappearing, the skin turning a milky pastel pink and orange. Students walked, groups of people skateboarding, while most conversed amongst each other. You scurried into the dormitories where you resided and headed for the elevator, pressing it a few times before quickly opening, you step in and slam your two fingers on the floor of your room.

Finally reaching your floor, your feet quickly move down the hall, unlocking your door and slipping in, Historia sits in her desk chair, doing work, “hey Historia, wanna tag along?” You’re throwing your shirt off your head followed by your leggings, you two had changed in front of each other so many times, neither payed any mind.

“No, I’m behind on an essay, I’ll come next weekend I promise.” She pleads, you smile and wave your hand in the air dismissively while standing there half naked.

“Please! You know it doesn’t hurt my feelings, I just don’t want you crammed in here all the time by yourself, it’s unhealthy.” Hands deep in your drawers, you’re looking for a dress, she lets out a sigh of relief and drops her pen on her textbook, standing and walking towards me, opening another drawer.

“I know what dress you gotta wear!” She sings, you follow her hands, fingers strolling down the neatly folded clothes within her clothes drawer. She rips out a black bodycon dress which wasn’t longer than mid knee, with a nice dip in the v-line.

Graciously taking it from her hands, a small gasp and smile planted on your mouth as you slip it over your feet and thighs, shimmying your arms into the strings. Historia had quite a delectable taste of fashion, she had worn and worked every style she’s come across, “you look hot.” She places a love tap on your ass and you stick your tongue out, taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, turning around to look at your body.

Releasing your hair from the hair tie, you shake your hair out and brush it. Being cautious you’d run late again, Historia is picking out a perfume and matching lotion, spritzing you and you take the lotion out of her hands, squeezing the sweet flower smell into your legs and arms, “thanks roomie, please, reconsider; come with me.” You plead one last time, she shoves me playfully and points to her textbook.

“Next weekend, go. Don’t make Connie mad by being late.” You groan and slipping your feet into black platforms.

“You’ll regret saying that, I don’t like Connie.” You shut the door behind you. Walking back towards that elevator.

The sky was pretty much dark at this point, the party was twenty minutes from starting, and you had just walked through the front door as Connie was swinging it open, letting people know they could come in, a few boys sat on the couch. Jean could be seen pouring drinks for himself and probably his friends. “I knew I heard y/n!!” Jean cheers, jogging over to me and scanning his eyes up and down my figure, “looking- uh, sexy.” He coughs, shaking his head and the little bit of pink brushes his cheeks, handing me one of his drinks.

Marco leaps over the couch and jumps towards Jean, leisurely throwing an arm over his shoulder, “maybe you’ll finally get a piece tonight,” he nudges, you smack Marco upside the head and he mutters swears under his breath, pulling off of his friend, Jean rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his drink, cocking an eyebrow.

“Who says I haven’t hit already.” Before the boys can even react, your knee meets his groin, kicking him, he screeches and falls to his knees, the room stays silent for the most part besides laughing, “alright! I haven’t hit it yet- Jesus y/n!” He hissed, rolling back onto his feet and practically limping out of the room. I turn around to see if the others got the warning, but instead see two boys standing at the front door, both staring at me with wide eyes and interested looks.

Both were tall; one blonde haired which covered his forehead, keen blue eyes, the other wore baggy sweats, a black short sleeve shirt, his hair was messily pulled back. You stand there like a ditz, kinda humiliated.

“Here- Eren, Armin.” Jean is coming from behind you, handing these men drinks, patting Eren’s shoulder all ‘buddy - buddy’ as they walk deeper into the house, you shake off the intense vibe you felt from the two and drink more of the flavored vodka. Your ears suddenly perk up like a dog when you hear Jean’s loud mouth from the kitchen, “oh that’s y/n, isn’t she just a gem? my nuts still hurt.” He laughs, the slight hint of sarcasm in his remark, you swing around and walk into the kitchen, interjecting yourself in their conversation; the three chat it up, Jean’s eyes land on yours and smiles like a brat.

You poke Jean in the side and smile at whichever Armin and Eren were, “Isn’t Kirsten so peachy, this is why I love him.” You giggle, the boys in front of you laugh; both absolutely stunning bright smiles, you could get used to their faces around here. You also wondered where they came from.

“Oh, to be Jean’s nuts right now.” The dark haired one jokes, arising laughter amongst the three boys. Your eyes practically fall out of their sockets, an immediate halt of poking Jean’s side, the little ball stood out, you were absolutely thrown off any train of thought you had. People start filling the kitchen, you were so frozen in feelings you looked so ridiculous, shaking it off with a little smile, you needed to flirt back, he started it.

“And don’t I wish I was that tongue piercing.” It was now their turn to be frozen in shock, the blonde one turning his head to look at the other, a little ‘Eren’ could be heard from his lips; ‘so that’s his name, he kinda looks like an Eren.’

The loud chatter and booming music has overtaken the house, it was getting harder and harder to hear a single conversation as more and more people filled the house.

Jean wraps an arm around me, “I love it when she’s bold, she only gets worse the more she drinks, be careful.” Jean gives me a tight side hug and you down the rest of the liquid in the cup, I had stunned Eren into silence, Armin broke that silence with a small laugh. What Jean said was true, I had a small track record of flirtatious behavior when I had enough liquid courage.

Eren smiles at you, “so intense, let’s get them a room already.” Your eyes peel off Eren’s, Sasha stood there with a bottle in her hand, a huge smile on her face, “it’s like a staring contest over here, what’s happening guys?!” She hollers over the music, poking my boob a few times, you swat her finger off your tit and she giggles, hiccuping, she was much more intoxicated than yourself.

“I was just getting more to drink, gimme gimme’” you snatch the bottle out of your friends hand and pop open the cap, “I hope to see you all later, I plan on us all playing a little spin the bottle or something.” You swallow, Armin tilts his head and looks at you.

“Isn’t that for high schoolers?” He asks, a smile on his face, you lean in close, your head right between both Eren’s and Armin’s ears, they subconsciously lean in to hear what I have to say.

“With a twist.” You hum, pulling away and following Sasha towards the basement stairs, personal tequila bottle in tow and ready to drink.

An hour later you’re faltering towards the couches and sliding down onto your wobbly knees, Connie and Jean rounding up the people we are closest too in the basement, dizzy and laughing at practically every little thing in sight, Sasha and Mikasa sat to your left and right, equally or less drunk as yourself.

Our friend group sits on the floor in a giant circle and you stand, “okay my friends, I figured we could do a little something different this weekend.” You announce, the room falling somewhat quiet as they listen to you, “we’re gonna play spin the bottle, but instead of just regular old spin the bottle, if one spins and it lands on the other, they can head into the closet for seven minutes, but when your turn comes again, or that person that you went into the closet with previously, you go into the bedroom for a timed thirty minutes. No backing out.” You didn’t even catch Eren making himself comfortable next to Jean and Marco, Armin sitting on the couch behind Connie also planning on participating.

Eren had noticed you though, standing there with that half empty bottle and your tight dress, your messy makeup which he found beyond sexy. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you told him you wished he was his piercing, no girl had ever been so outgoing and bold. Although he was slightly stoned, and definitely drunk, he couldn’t rip his eyes off you; he sat on the ground intrigued, “I’ll do the first spin.” Sasha gushes, grabbing the empty beer bottle and giving it a strong spin.

It spins and spins, you sat pretty on your knees and wait for it to land on someone; an eternity later it’s pointing between Mikasa and Jean. He was jumping onto his feet in an instant, you knew Jean so well that it was impossible for him to act cool, he was freaking the fuck out. Mikasa stands and pushes Jean towards the closet, he stumbles, drunkenly tripping over his feet and we all laugh at him, they go in and I set a timer, starting it immediately.

We all talk and laugh, Connie and Marco had their ears pressed against the door like perverts, “hey pervs! Quit it you two!” Sasha shouts, they leap away from the door and soon enough the ringing plays to signify the end of the long 7 minutes, you stand and knock on the door, Jean comes out first, dizzy and face flustered, totally beyond repair. Then Mikasa following behind him, perfectly fine but with a domineering smirk plastered on her face. We cheer and Jean plops down on the ground, the boys patting and laughing, congratulating him.

I go, spinning the bottle and anticipating the stop, when it finally comes to a stop, my eyes follow the top of the bottle stopped right between the legs of Connie and Eren, seeing both staring at me, ‘ooh’s’ and laughing fill up the room, there was no way I was going into that room with Connie. “Rock paper scissors!” Jean shouts, I slap my hands over my face in embarrassment, my luck I’d be stuck with Connie who would probably just start a fight with me.

You peek your eye through your fingers and see the two boys play it out to see who would get to go into the closet with me.

Connie one- Eren two.

Your hands drop into your lap, feeling lightweight, almost like you were floating, a mixture of both anxiety and excitement flickering in your stomach, he was so intimidating and you felt tiny in front of him- in all honesty, flirting was one thing. You stand up hesitantly and walk towards the closet, his body blocking you from being able to see your friends one last time. He shuts the door and wastes no time looping his arm around my waist, pulling me into his rock hard chest, looking up at him and begin to gnaw on your bottom lip as he cops a feel of your ass; his strong hand groping your ass, hand rubbing and squeezing, “eager are we?” You tease, he hums and continues.

You were spiraling under his strength. He walks both of you backwards until your back is hitting the wall, dipping his head down to your ear, “what happened to the tough guy act?” He purrs, you shiver, his hand moving from your ass and down your thigh slowly, “you wanna kiss me?” He asks quietly, forehead pressed against yours, you respond with a little nod, his lips instantly meeting yours, your eyes shut and it only becomes more messy as seconds pass, his hand that was once on your thigh was now separating them, sliding his thigh in place between your legs; pinning you. While his thigh sat between yours, you could feel the growing erection poking your leg; which he paid no mind, this was about you. His left hand behind your neck, thumb caressing back and fourth on your jawline softly whilst fixing his right hand back on your ass, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

His body was warm, nose drinking up his vanilla scent, he tasted good, vodka completely soaked your tastebuds, the faint aroma of weed could be tasted in your nostrils from his clothes. Your hands loosely around his waist feeling up his back muscles only slightly.

The metal bud on his tongue keeping you enticed, colliding with your own tongue, it was like a little magic ball that could instantly have you on your knees; sparking these new and mysterious sparks within your body which you wanted more of. It was fun to play with.

He slowly pulls away, a string of saliva dragging from his lips to yours, he licked his lips, you kept your eyes on that piercing like an owner holding his pets treats in his hand, “I need more than seven minutes.” He grunts, your swollen lips begging for his again.

You were going feral, the tips of your fingers teasingly touching the hem of his sweatpants, feeling his boxers underneath, “you’re a good kisser Eren, wonder what else you’re good at, hm?” You whisper in his ear, he was tense, body still latches onto yours so you could feel the flexing of his muscles.

“I would tear yo-” our heads snap to the side, the knocking on the closet door, that was seven? Already? He pulls off of you, immediately feeling cold, your hand coming to your mouth so you can wipe it and somewhat look composed. Like nothing happened, he’s swinging the door open and cockily walking out, you walked out beside him, the girls overwhelmed with cheery grins and jaws hitting the floor, the boys ‘oohing’.

“Was it good?” Mikasa questions, tugging at your arm so you could sit in your spot, you look at her with devilish eyes.

“I’m taking that as a yes, he looks high and mighty don’t he?” Sasha chuckles, you glance at Eren who is looking at you with low, seductive eyes. You gulp and explode, looking at the floor and feeling like all eyes were on you.

“Next person!” Jean shouts. We all prepare for ourselves for the next round.

Fifteen minutes later, after Marco and Sasha had completely demolished each other’s necks in the closet, plus Connie and a random girl spending an odd eleven minutes in the closet after we all pounded on the door to get them out; God knows what they did in that closet. You look for who’s turn it was next; it was finally Eren’s turn to spin.

You were rather... irritated; he was gonna get to please some girl with his mouth the same way I was so blessed to have bestowed upon me. You drink from the bottle, drowning your new attitude. Now everyone is shock, leaping to their feet and jumping around like teenagers, you look around and Eren is walking towards your sitting body, your messy and drunken eyes looking up at him confused, “looks like we get our thirty minutes.” He smirks, your eyes bulge and you quickly stand to your feet, what luck!

Walking down the small hall of the basement, your back only barely touching his front side as he’s pushing himself through the doorframe, you push the door shut with your foot and pick up right where you left off.

“I’ll need more than thirty minutes.” You stand in shock at him ripping his shirt off his head. His finger touching your chin before being able to stare at his body, “get on your back princess.” He starts, gently pushing your back onto the bed.

“I need to taste you, please.”

#eren yeager #7 minutes eren #eren jaeger #attack on titan #aot x reader #eren aot #lime

291 notes · View notes

modernpaw · 3 years

Text

Midnight Ride

Adam Sackler x Female Reader

Summary: You've been chatting with a guy you matched with on a dating app for two weeks now, and tonight is your first time meeting him in person.

Notes: This is not at all related to The One, the other piece I wrote about Sackler days earlier. For the purposes of this universe, let's pretend that sitting on the metal handlebar of a bicycle and going around New York late at night aren't dangerous. LOL. And just for added feels, this is the song that was responsible for this fic.

CW: A little bit of swearing, AFAB reader, awful cycling practices, but generally fluff

Words: 1.3k

It's been two years since you last went out on a date, but anyone looking at you now wouldn't be able to tell, not with the way you seem so comfortable talking to the man sitting across you.

Several weeks ago, you decided to finally reenter the dating scene, swiping left and right through New York's most eligible bachelors. To your unexpected delight, the pickings weren't as slim as you thought, and you ended up matching with several interesting men.

Adam happened to be one of them. His profile listed him as an actor, a detail that usually makes you a bit wary, considering that most actor types you know seem to be only interested in themselves, but there was something about him that made you reconsider.

His eyes had both an intensity and a vulnerability that made it hard for you to look away. And with that kind of connection just from the screen alone, you couldn't not give it a shot.

And you're so glad you did.

Adam is thoughtful and sweet, remembering details about you despite mentioning them only once and reminding you to take your vitamins. But he's also funny as hell and swears like the world is going to fucking end tomorrow.

After two weeks of constant messaging, you two agreed to meet up for dinner at a late-night diner along Madison.

The moment you strode in, the two of you locked eyes immediately. There was no mistaking Adam. His hair was just as long as it was in the photo, and when he stood up to greet you, you saw exactly what the 6"3 in his profile came with, and boy did you approve.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice your ogling, overshadowed as it was by the confusion of whether you two should go in for a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or a handshake. It should have been awkward, but then you laughed and gave him a bright smile, and just like that, the tension was broken.

You spent the first hour candidly talking about your respective expectations about how the other would look in real life, which somehow, led to you two exchanging photos of your younger selves over burgers and fries.

"You looked so cute with braces on!"

"Oh my god, Adam, your ears are so adorable!"

"Holy shhiiiiitttt, had you gone to prom with me in that, I never would have left you a virgin!"

"Adam!" you hissed, clamping his mouth with one hand while looking around frantically. You might have told him about your high school boyfriend backing out of having sex with you on the night of your high school prom, but that didn't mean you wanted the rest of the diner to know it, too.

"What," he replied innocently once you removed your hand. "I totally wouldn't!"

"Shut up!" you said, trying not to laugh as his declarations became more and more ridiculous. The rest of dinner went on in a similar vein, with Adam making you laugh and you trying not to choke on your food, and by the time you decide to get the bill, it's nearly midnight.

"I can't believe we've been talking for almost four hours!" you exclaim, looking at your watch.

"I can," he says boldly, eyes twinkling at you, like he's still in awe that you're real. And he is. From the moment you two connected on the app, Adam has found himself drawn to you. You're smart and funny, but not in a way that seems like you think yourself better than everyone else or self-destructive. You appear genuinely interested in him as a person, and so far, you don't seem to be put off by his "intense" disposition.

Whenever he talks to you, he feels like he wants to be on his best behavior, but also that he doesn't have to pretend to be anyone else, which he's well-aware is a complete oxymoron. Still, it's the only way he can put it.

He told Ray as much earlier this evening, and Ray just told him that maybe, just maybe, him being on this so-called best behavior is not too far from who he really is.

But Adam has no fucking clue who he is. After Hannah, after Jessa, after all the women he's been with, he feels like he's just beginning to get to know himself again. One thing he knows for sure, however, is that he likes himself when he talks to you.

And he doesn't want the night to end.

Neither do you.

You two are walking aimlessly down the street when Adam stops in his tracks and turns to you.

"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks.

"What?" you squawk.

Adam laughs at your reaction. "Not that kind of ride, kid," he says, and you realize that he's referring to the row of Citi bikes for rent on the curb.

You're not exactly embarrassed by your reaction, but his next words definitely fluster you.

"But maybe on our next date," he teases, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," you manage to toss back in reply before leaving him to inspect the bicycles at a closer range.

Adam shakes his head. "Okay, that's it," he says before wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up from behind.

"Adam!" you yell out, giggling.

He swings you a few times before eventually helping you get on the metal handlebar of the bike. Your hands automatically hold on to the bar to keep yourself upright. "Keep that adorable tush right there," he murmurs as he gets on the bike seat behind you.

Then he starts pedalling.

It's not exactly easy to hold a conversation on a bicycle, but somehow, you two manage by taking turns asking each other short would-you-rather questions with absolutely no context.

"Elephants or koalas?" he asks.

"Elephants. They never forget," you answer. "Lions or tigers?"

"Lions," he says grimly. "Tigers will most certainly eat you on sight. Hero or villain?"

"I-Innocent bystander," you manage to say despite the laughter that's already bubbling so close to the surface. It turns into a full-on guffaw when he sputters comically behind your ear. "That's not even one of the choices, kid!"

"Well, the rules have changed!" you yell back when a cab honks loudly in the distance. "Gold or silver?"

"Glass," he replies, not willing to concede even though he has zero idea how to not lose. "Upstairs or downstairs?"

"Uh," you stutter, not expecting such a difficult one right away. "Sideways."

"Really?" he asks, his voice taking on a velvety quality. You don't know how to explain it, but you feel like Adam has just changed the rules right under your nose.

"You bet," you answer, soldiering on. "On or off?"

Adam laughs, and you try not to shiver at the hot puffs of breath that warm the back of your ear. "Oh, definitely off," he says.

"You're supposed to give me an answer that's not one of the choices," you say, trying to distract your thoughts from going down that road.

"I'm sorry," he says in a way that says he's definitely not sorry at all. "Fast or slow?"

Well, two can play that game. "Fast," you say, but before he can react, you add, "Like a fucking jackhammer."

"Ffffuck," he swears and he pedals a bit faster.

"Adam!" you cry out suddenly, afraid to lose your balance.

"Shit! Sorry!" he apologizes, gently slowing down to a stop. The Brooklyn Bridge is a good place to end the ride as any, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that he planned this perfectly. You hop down from your seat and turn to face Adam who makes to dismount as well.

"Want to walk the rest of the way?" Adam asks you with a goofy smile.

You smile back. "Yeah, I'd like that."

As you stroll over the bridge side by side, Adam slowly inches his hand on the handlebar closer to yours and you reach out to do the same. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you just know, even without looking, that he's got a smile on his face, too.

Tagging: @cornmousequeen, @fizzywoohoo, @paper-n-ashes, @morby

If you would like to be tagged in future adcu stories or only those for specific adcu characters (which I cannot promise will actually happen), let me know! :) Otherwise, thank you for reading!

#Spotify #adam sackler x female reader #adam sackler x reader #afab reader #adcu fanfiction #adcu #mild swearing #do not ride bikes like this!

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Love On-Set (Pt. 04 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

Word count: 3K

<- Previous part (03)

Next part (05) ->

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Breaking Character

You meet Dacre at the entrance of the hotel's gym, which is a little crowded already. He guides you in and you decide to start with the bike. Dacre goes straight for the weights, obviously. But you manage to get a bike that gives you a perfect sight of where he is, and as you work out, you watch him. He gives you a few glances, but you manage to look away just in time. At least you hope you do. After a while, you decide to move to the treadmill to run for a few minutes. Thanks to the weekly visits to the local gym near your house, you're able to keep up the pace for a good amount of time before getting tired and deciding to stop. Dacre is still doing his stuff, so after refilling your bottle with cold water, you walk over where he is, sitting on a bench right before him. He's currently lifting a barbell that looks unbelievably heavy.

“Are you done already?” He asks in a sassy tone.

“I'll get a few more followers at your expanse just because I didn't like your tone, Mr. Montgomery.” Taking your phone, you open your Instagram and start making a video of Dacre. He looks incredible, so handsome right now, and the fact that he's shirtless only makes it better. You have to control yourself not to check him out more than you should. “Straight to my Instagram story.” You tell him as you put some emojis on the video and tags Dacre before sharing it with the whole world.

“Come here for a second.” He says, laying the barbell down.

“What for? If you think I can lift any of those things you must be going completely insane.” Despite being suspicious you stand up, leaving your phone on the bench.

As you walk over him, Dacre hands over his phone to a dark-haired man who was switching weights. “Can you record this for me?” You hear him asking. “Just a few seconds.” He kindly smiles and thanks to the man when he nods.

“Are you going to prank me or something?” You stop before him, arms crossed. Without saying anything, Dacre pulls you with him, placing you between him and the barbell. “Dacre, what–” You're cut short when he suddenly bends down and picks the bar up again, quickly standing up straight, trapping you in between his body and the bar. “What the hell, Dacre?”

“Hold it, c'mon.”

“I won't hold this thing. I can't lift it.” Keeping your voice low, you give the man with Dacre's phone a glance. He's actually doing what Dacre asked, filming you two doing whatever this is.

“Trust me.” It's his lower voice, right in your ear that makes you surrender and do it, holding the bar a few inches away from where his hand is holding it. Slowly, he starts moving. Everything you can do is mimic his movement, your eyes wandering from the bar to his right arm, noticing how his muscles are tense. “It's not that hard is it?”

“Not when I'm lifting exactly zero pounds.” You snap back, being forced to give a step back when Dacre brings the bell bar way too close to your body, and your back collides against his chest.

“That's enough, thanks, buddy.” It takes a while for you to understand he's talking to the guy with his phone. The man nods and puts the phone down before moving away, back into doing anything he was doing before. And probably wondering what the hell is going on with you two.

“Are you going to post that video?”

“Yup.”

“Really?” Doesn't he know that it will get people talking?

“Why not?” Dacre drops the bar suddenly, and it makes a loud thud when it hits the floor, making you give a little jump.

“Damn it, Dacre!” You exclaim, a hand on your heart. “What about not killing your co-star before she finishes shooting the show?” Still a little startled, heart racing, and not only for the bar falling, you go back to the bench to get your phone.

“Now I'm exhausted already. How am I supposed to go to work?” Checking your feed, you see there are already a lot of people answering to your video, mostly your friends asking about Dacre... And some of your co-stars, but no reason to answer since you'll have to face them eventually.

“Done.” He says, and at the same time, you see the notification. Clicking on it, you're redirected to Dacre's story, where you see the short video of him standing behind you, ‘helping’ you lift the bar. In bright red letters, he wrote ‘the best personal trainer (Y/N) could ever get’.

He really did it. And he doesn't seem to care. “So you just made me look like an idiot. I'll get back at you for that.”

“Idiot? You look so hot in this video, I almost reconsidered posting it.”

“Me?” It comes out abruptly because you just can't believe it. Any of it. You can't believe he posted the video, you can't believe he just said you looked hot. You're confused and you need time to clear your mind. “I really think we should go now. Shower, have lunch, and get ready to work.” It will sound like you're running away, but you need some time away from Dacre. Your heart needs a break from beating so fast.

“Yeah, we probably should.” He puts his phone in his pocket before making his way out of the gym with you. “Why don't you come over to my room? I can get some room service and then we head off to set. It's just us so we can go in my car.”

“Sure.” You're quick to answer, immediately changing your mind. “I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Room 1404.”

“Alright.”

Thankfully, there are no incidents during lunch. You two just chat and joke around, and almost get on set late. The first scene is much more simple. It's just Amy and Billy bumping into each other, a small chat before they part ways, both annoyed at each other. Once that's done, you change into the second outfit, and the make-up and hairstyle it slightly changed. Night has already fallen when you get into position, waiting for the signal.

In this scene, Billy finds Amy walking home alone, at night. He's pissed that she's so reckless after they just learned about the Mind Flayer, in a scene that will still be shot. So when she refused to go with him, they have an argument. It's a turning point, with the tension between then being explored further, leading into a partial confession and an almost kiss. That's how James calls this scene.

And, as if the scene itself wasn't enough, you're mind is still at what happened at the gym. This will be hard. Maybe as hard as the actual kissing scene.

“Alright. Ready, everyone... And action!”

You start walking fast, the camera before you easily following your pace.

“Amy, get inside that damn car right now,” Billy says, seconds before reaching you and grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. “You're not walking home this late with that damn Mind Flayer out there.”

“Stop–” Giving your arm a push, he lets go. “–trying to act as if you care. I know you don't.”

“If I didn't care do you really think I'd be here?” He steps closer, towering over you, and you have no choice but to step back. “Running after you like an idiot?” Your back hits a car parked on the sidewalk, just at the right place. “Do you really think I'd put any effort into trying to drag your ass out of the street?” Dacre slams both his hand on the car, and you make sure to make Amy give a little jump, followed by an annoyed expression.

“I know about the little games you play, Hargrove. I won't fall for them.” Raising your voice on the last sentence, you try to push him away, uselessly.

“It's funny how everyone in this town thinks they know me.”

“Oh, I don't. I don't think about you, Hargrove. At all.” With a sassy smile, you wait for his reply.

But it doesn't come. He just stands there, as his eyes change. From irritation to... Kindness. And you recognize Dacre as he breaks through Billy. “But I think about you. I think about you all the time.” Your heart starts racing again, more than before because this is not Billy. And you know the difference very well.

Frozen, not sure if you should take this as improvisation and follow his lead, you rest your back against the car, as Dacre follows your movement, his face now only two inches away.

“Cut!” The shout brings you back to reality, and Dacre immediately steps away. “I like what you're doing, but I don't think the line fits well on the scene.”

“My bad.” Dacre apologizes.

“Again. From the moment you slam your hands on the car.” James commands and you go back into position. “Action!”

“I know about the little games you play, Hargrove. I won't fall for them.”

“It's funny how everyone in this town thinks they know me.”

“I don't. I don't think about you, Hargrove. At all.” It's hard to keep Amy's mean smile on, not to break character and... You don't even know. But this is getting a little too hard to handle.

“Why do I have the feeling you're lying to me, princess?” He leans closer, so close Amy has no choice but to turn her head away, and when you move, you feel his breath in your neck.

“If you don't get the hell away from me right now, I swear–”

“I can't wait to see what you'll do.”

Then Amy snaps, pushing Billy away, hands on his chest, using all the strength she can manage. She's beyond pissed now, she's upset. Frustrated with her dangerous feelings towards the bad boy. “You're such a jerk!” You exclaim as Dacre gives a few steps back. “You know exactly what you're doing and you keep doing it!” The pushing turns into slaps, as Amy tries to get rid of Billy's arms, holding her. “I don't wanna be one of your flings so stay the hell away from me.”

“What do you wanna be then?” He asks, arms keeping you still, dangerously close to his body.

“I–” You're cut short when Dacre's hand comes to your cheek. For a moment you think he'll kiss you, your skin burning under his touch. The lines are forgotten, and it doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't remember it.

Then a loud noise startles you, bringing Amy back and Dacre falls back into character, looking at something over your shoulder. “We gotta get out of here.” He follows the script and you do the same, setting free from his grip.

“I'm not going with you!” Then it happens, Billy bends over and grabs Amy's legs, throwing her over his shoulder. The sudden change makes you gasp for air, quickly following to the next line. “What the hell? Put me down right now!” You yell, noticing how some of the extras start acting, moving from inside the houses to the porch to see what's the commotion about. “I'm not kidding, Billy. Put me the hell down!”

He only laughs as you push his back, swinging your legs. Dacre tightens the grip on your thighs, forcing you to stop moving. “You're very stubborn.” He mutters under his breath, finally putting you down and opening the passenger door. “Get. In. I won't let you walk–”

“Cut! Cut!” James says, quite impatient. “I want you to do something else there. From the moment you put her down, I want another confrontation. Do you guys think you can improvise it?”

“Yeah.” You mutter as Dacre nods.

“Good. Get in position then.” He orders and Dacre picks you up again, slower this time since there's no need for Billy's rush. “Alright. Action.”

“You're very stubborn.” He repeats as you're put back down, and you wonder what to do next. But when Dacre pushes you against the car, in a similar position from some minutes earlier, your mind threatens to go blank again. “Let's settle this, princess.” The different weight on the last word almost makes you break character, but to laugh this time. “If you don't get inside this damn car immediately and stop complaining, I will kiss you. Right here, right now. And I know you won't resist me.”

You're sure both Amy and you are paralyzed now, unable to move, or think, and you have to struggle to get your brain to work again. Dacre's eyes are so soft, you can't find Billy in them. You wonder if the cameras can get it... You wish there weren't so many cameras and lights on both of you now. “You wouldn't do that.” The words find a way out, thankfully.

“Really?” Dacre's arm encircles your waist suddenly, pulling you close, pressing you against his chest. “Try me.”

If you don't move, Amy or not, you'll kiss him. You won't even wait for Billy to fulfill his threat. So your hands nervously search for the door handle, breathing out in relief when you find it. As you turn around to open the door, his grip still holds you, and you're only free when you step inside the car, closing the door shut a little too violently. With your eyes focused on the car parked a few feets ahead, you only listen when Dacre gets in the driver's seat.

“Alright, cut!” Relieved this is over, you hope not to do it again. It'll be the death of you. “It was amazing. Whatever the two of you have going on, it's great. If you keep this level, the kissing scene will be one of this season's best moments.”

Glad that the day is over, you wave at Dacre before getting out of the car and heading to your dressing room. Your head won't stop spinning, thinking, replaying what just happened. It was only Billy... Right? All those times you thought it was Dacre, it wasn't. You can't allow yourself to believe that. Part of you wish you didn't come here with Dacre, but you did, so you have to meet him again when you're ready to go. The ride back to the hotel is filled with light conversations, nothing about the scenes you just did. But there's an elephant in the room, you can feel it, and you think Dacre feels it too, by the glances he gives you every now and then. Sometimes it looks like he'll say something, then he just gives up. You wonder if you should say it, end the tension. Ask him if you did something wrong. But every time you feel the words are just about to flow out, you blush and look away.

How are you supposed to get the kissing done when you're so... Lost.

But when you reach the elevators, you decide to ask him. You decide to be brave for once and follow Dacre's advice of not holding everything back. He did say he'd listen, that he wouldn't be scared. “You broke character, didn't you?” It comes out suddenly, and he immediately looks at you as you lean against the elevator mirror.

“Half a dozen times.” He answers after taking a deep breath. “And so did you... Right?”

“Quite a few times, yes.” Looking down, you swallow hard. “It was a disaster. Well, almost.”

“Why?”

“Because I–” You're damn phone ringing cuts you off, and, rolling your eyes, you pick it up. “It's Natalia.”

“Answer her. It's my floor anyway.” Dacre gestures at door, and right above it, you see the number. “We'll talk later, alright?”

“Yes.” You mutter, a little sad that the doors just opened.

“Bye.” Dacre leans closer for a quick hug and to place a kiss on your cheek, as he's been usually doing.

As you watch him leave, the doors closing again and separating the two of you, you finally answer Natalia. “Hey. What's up?”

“(Y/N). Are you in your room?” As she speaks, you hear Millie saying something in the background.

“I'll be getting there in a minute.”

“Alright.” Then she hangs up.

You have sixty seconds to recover from the day before meeting Natalia and Millie at your door. Smiling in a very weird way. As you approach, taking the card from your pocket, you raise an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” You ask as you open the door, gesturing for them to get inside.

“No... Of course not.” Millie mutters, searching for something on her phone. “Just this.” When she shows you the screen, you sigh. It's the video Dacre posted on his Instagram story.

“That was just... We were at the gym. Working out.” It's stupid to do this. They won't let it go. Throwing yourself on the couch, you cover your head with a pillow.

“What you call ‘working out’ I call flirting.” Natalia states, and when Millie pulls the pillow away, you see Natalia bending over the back of the couch as Millie sits down next to your legs.

“But nobody was flirting. We were just making fun of each other.” You wait for them to say something. Anything. But they don't. The two girls just keep staring at you, smirking. If they only knew what happened today... “What?”

“You like Dacre, don't you?” Millie inquires, folding a leg under her.

The first instinct is to say no, and the word is at the tip of your tongue. But it doesn't come out because you suddenly realize it would be a lie. It gets stuck, as it washes over you. Nobody has asked this before, and you've been avoiding to think about it. But now that the right words were said, you know it. “Damn it.” Muttering under your breath, you cover both your eyes.

“We got our answer.” Natalia sing-songs.

“He likes you too. You know that, right?”

“Of course he doesn't, Millie. Just because he's nice to me it doesn't mean–”

“There's a huge difference between being nice and doing what he's doing, believe me.” Millie stands up, pacing around with both hands on her hips. “Now, tell us everything.”

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittystuff @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines

#dacre montgomery fanfiction #imagine dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove imagine

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connordavidscamera · 4 years

Text

Wonder | Connor Brashier

A/n: obviously this is based off Wonder because it’s so good and I couldn’t not write something for it.

Summary: You and Connor are at the launch party for Wonder and Connor has a surprise for you (established relationship)

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.8k

***

“I didn’t know they had launch parties for songs. I thought it was just for albums,” I say as I slide into my shoes.

“Well, it’s not an actual launch party, per se. It’s really just Shawn getting the team together for the release. It’s casual.”

“I know, I actually get to wear pants to this party,” I joke.

Connor rolls his eyes. “Yes you do.” But then his eyes are raking me up and down and he bites his lip. “And damn, do you look good in them.”

“Hey, eyes up here, mister.” I say, reaching forward to lift his chin so his pretty eyes are on my face.

He smirks, “Okay, but what’s it gonna take for you to let me get you out of these for a quickie before we leave?”

I shake my head, “Nope. You’ve already had me three times today. You can wait until we get back.”

He pouts, “No I can’t. I’m needy and you’re hot.”

I laugh, “Flattery will get you everywhere, but not right now. We’re already running late.”

“It’s Shawn, he won’t care.”

“No, but you know your girlfriend is one for punctuality.”

He rolls his eyes, “Annoyingly so, yes.”

I gasp and hit his arm playfully, “You used to think it was cute!”

“Yeah, before it meant I couldn’t have my way with you before a party.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, “If you’re a good boy maybe I’ll let you have me while we’re at the party. How’s that sound?”

He perks up at the idea, eyes glimmering with a child like sparkle. “Really?”

How could I say no when he looks at me like that? “Yes, baby. But we have to go now before traffic hits.”

He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “After you, my love.”

“You’re gonna stare at my ass while I walk out, aren’t you?” I pull away from him with an amused smile.

He just shrugs, “I might.”

I pinch his cheek, “Well then I’ll put a little more pep in my step to give you a show.”

He groans, throwing his head back, “You’ll be the death of me, you know that, right?”

I hum and turn to walk out of our bedroom, his eyes following me as I go.

---

“Another drink, my love?” Connor asks when he sees my empty cup in my hands.

“You trying to get me drunk, Brashier?” I tease, looking up at him.

“Oh yes. That’s exactly it.”

I nod, “Nothing too strong, please?”

“You got it. Kiss?” he puckers his lips and I lean up to meet his lips but scrunch up my face. “You taste like whiskey.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, love. I’ll be right back.”

I nod and turn back to Shawn and Brian who are attempting to play beer pong against Sylvie and Justin. Brian isn’t very good, but he’s drank a lot more than Shawn has, so his aim is a little off.

“Bri, you’re supposed to make it in the cup,” Sylvie taunts.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, and sticks his tongue out a little as he squints at the cups on the opposite side of the table. And when it makes it in he’s more excited than I’ve ever seen him before. “Fuck yes! Yes! You’re supposed to make it in the cup,” he mocks.

“Why is he screaming?” Connor asks when he returns with my drink.

“He made it in.”

“About time,” he checks the time on his watch. “Speaking of time. Shawn, you have to get on the premier. You have ten minutes.”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Thanks, Brash.” he pats Brian’s back and goes, “You’re on your own, Craigen. Good luck.”

“Where’s Anna?” he asks, looking around the room. “Y/n, where’s Anna. She’s good at this game.”

“I think she went to get a drink.”

“Anna!” he yells. “Come be my partner for beer pong!” When she doesn’t answer immediately he groans. “Anna!”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Craigen. I heard you the first time.”

“Be my partner,” he pouts.

“Yeah, whatever.”

I look back at my boy who is already looking at me. “Shouldn’t you be with Shawn? Sober him up a bit?”

He shakes his head. “No, he’s okay. Wanna be with my girl.”

I nod and turn in his arms to face him fully. “You know, you still haven’t told me much about this song.”

“I know. It’s a surprise.”

“But why?”

“You’ll see when it premieres.”

I pout. “But I wanna know now.”

“Nope, you’ll have to wait and see.”

I groan. “Why won’t you tell me? What? Are you in the video? Is my baby in front of the camera instead of behind it this time?”

He chuckles, “No. I’m not in the video.”

I huff. “Tell me!!!”

He shakes his head with a bright smile. “No, my love. You’ll see it,” he checks his watch again “Thirty-five minutes.”

“Tease,” I grumble.

“Says the one who told me we could have a quickie in the bathroom and has yet to follow through.”

“Well I said that would happen if you were a good boy. But you’re not telling me things so,” I shrug. “Guess no quickie.”

He growls in my ear and I’m almost reconsidering my answer. Almost.

“Fine,” he mutters, “I’m gonna set up the TV for the premiere. You okay here?”

“Mhm, I’m gonna watch Brian lose another round.”

Brian gasps and turns to face me. “You too?!” His face morphs into what almost looks like true betrayal, but I still can’t fight the laugh that escapes.

“Guys, three minute warning! Get your drunk asses out here and settle in,” Sylvie calls from the living room.

“Anna sit with me,” Brian begs as Anna and I make our way to the room.

“I was gonna sit with y/n, but-”

“She’s gonna sit with Connor. Please?” He asks again, making puppy dog eyes at her. I roll my eyes and push her into him.

“Oh just sit with him. He’ll never shut up if you don’t.”

“Ah,” Connor says when he spots me. “There’s my love.” He holds a hand out for me. “I saved you a seat.” He smirks, patting his lap.

I shake my head and fall into him, not in the mood to tease him now. “My favorite seat,” I mumble, resting my head on his shoulder.

As everyone settles in, I play with Connor’s fingers, spin his ring a few times before taking it off of him and sliding it on my thumb. I half expect him to take it back when he lifts my hand. But he brings my thumb to his lips and kisses it over the ring before lacing our fingers and bringing them back down to my lap. “I love you,” he whispers into my hair.

“I love you,” I whisper back.

“Okay,” Shawn says, coming into the room. “Are you guys ready?” he asks excitedly, plopping himself down on the floor, his back against the armrest of the chair Connor and I are sitting in.

Connor squeezed my thigh. “Are you ready for the surprise?” He asks me.

I nod excitedly. “I’m very excited.”

“It’s starting,” Sylvie says for the few stragglers that were making their way into the room.

I’m already hooked by the countdown. It’s very Alice and Wonderland-esque, with the swirling clock. By the time the opening harmonies come in I’m leaning forward to squeeze Shawn’s shoulder. “You sound good, Rockstar,” I whisper.

By the middle of the song, I’m nodding and humming along to the song. But when Shawn gets to the last chorus I look back at Connor. “Wait, bubba, what’s the surprise?”

“It’s coming. Wait until the end.”

I furrow my brows and turn my attention back to the screen. Shawn’s just finished the chorus and is on his knees on the cliff as the camera gets closer to him. And the screen cuts to black.

Directed by Matty Peacock

And then another two seconds later:

Written by

Shawn Mendes

Matty Peacock

Connor Brashier

I gasp and look at my boy who is already smiling at me. “You wrote this!”

He chuckles, “Well only some of it.”

“That doesn’t matter. You wrote it!”

“So, good surprise?”

I scoff and wrap my arms around him. “The best surprise. I am so fucking proud of you.”

He kisses the underside of my jaw and rubs my back, “Thank you, my love. Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Well,” Shawn asks, standing up. “What did you guys think?”

I pull away from Connor and look up at Shawn. “It was amazing! Probably your best song yet. You literally just keep getting better.”

He glares at me, “Your opinion doesn’t count. You’re biased because your boyfriend helped write it.”

I shrug, “That’s true, yes. But you’ve seen my boyfriend? I clearly have taste, so I would know. And this is your best song to date.”

Connor laughs into my shoulder and pinches my side, “y/n, come on.”

“Why are you getting embarrassed? This is phenomenal and I am so proud of you. Both of you,” I say.

---

Nearly two hours later, I won’t let Connor stop playing the song. But so we’re not annoying the rest of the group, he plays it for me on his phone - the music video though, because I want to see his name at the end. Doesn’t matter how many times I see it, it still fills me with so much pride and joy for the beautiful man in my arms right now. He and I are swaying drunkenly to the song on the balcony outside. It’s just us two and it’s perfect, it’s euphoric.

“Been dreaming that you feel it, too. I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you,” he mumbles into my hair as he spins us slowly and I look up at him with a bright smile.

“What?” He asks, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Why are you so smiley?”

I hum and push up on my toes just the slightest bit to press my lips to his in a soft kiss. “You don’t have to wonder,” I say when I pull away.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to wonder what it’s like. To be loved by me?”

I watch as his face morphs into something that I can’t quite place.

“What?”

“I adore you. Like I truly, desperately adore you.” He places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me, this time with a little more passion than the one I just gave him. “I’m so lucky,” he hums, using his thumb to pull my bottom lip a little, just for it to pop back in place.

I shake my head, “I’m lucky. Luckiest girl in the entire world.”

“If you’re the luckiest woman, let me be the luckiest man in the world,” He whispers, tracing his thumb down the column of my neck.

I nod, “Okay. We can both be lucky to know what it’s like to be loved by one another.”

“Yeah, we never have to wonder.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

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Connor tag: @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #shawn mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction

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shikanaradai · 4 years

Text

Nara Week 2020 - Day 5: Cooking

A/N: I don’t have much to say aside from thanking everyone who has been participating in Nara Week on both Tumblr and Twitter! :D I have been blessed with many amazing works (some not so much... But hey, I had been expecting some of you to break my heart this week anyway xd You know who you are... coughBexandSpookcough oh sorry, just an itchy throat) Anyway, enjoy this shenanigan I wrote... :D

It wasn’t easy for them to get Temari out of the house. She wasn’t budging and they would be sent flying before she would even step a foot out. But finally, with all the troublesome efforts, Ino and Sakura had dragged Temari away for a ‘girls’ day’. Shikamaru will need to thank them later.

Shikadai was the first to finally speak up after Temari had disappear from their line of sight “What are you even planning to make? Did you even think about it?”

“N-No… I was too busy trying to find a way to get your mother out of the house first” He tucked his hands onto his pockets, glancing at his son “I’m sure you’ve thought of something”

“Of course, I did” He scoffed “But we’ll need to get groceries first. We don’t have all day now” He was quick to walked back inside the house and grabbed the grocery basket.

“Got a grocery list?” Shikadai was quick to pull the piece of paper out of his pocket, a small confident grin plastered on his face “I’m impressed”

“I had to when you were looking so miserable on begging her to go- Ow!” He quickly received a bop to the head. He shot a glare at his father, rubbing his head

“No need to say my suffering aloud. Come on, let’s hurry before Temari blows the house down for kicking her out of the house” Shikamaru turned back for the door.

Shikadai was glad Temari used to pester him to do groceries with her as a kid. Sure, it was troublesome but at least those trips have helped him now. He’s familiar with the store owners and can easily find the ingredients he needed. Shikamaru was just tagging along, returning greetings to whoever recognized him. But for the majority of the trip, he was just impressed at his son. Maybe he’ll reconsider getting him a sibling. Maybe. Though getting him that game he wanted could also be a good prize. Yeah, let’s go with that.

Once they were finished with their grocery, the father and son duo headed back and prepare for battle. Cooking is something neither of them have the experience of. Well, Shikadai still beat his old man in that aspect. Temari had often had Shikadai help her with the kitchen work when he was young. Though he stopped after getting into the academy, he still remembered most of the basic kitchen kills. But not basic knife skill.

“Are you sure that’s how you hold a knife?” Shikamaru seemed nervous. He may be one of the strongest ninjas in Konoha but watching his son holding a knife, is even more scary than going into war. Watching him spin a kunai seems much safer than him holding a knife.

“If I remember what Mom taught me, it’s something with claw…” Shikadai struggled to hold the carrot, holding the knife up.

Shikamaru let out a huge sigh, picking up the piece of paper and read through the instructions “Seeing you hold a knife is way scarier than when I first let you use a real kunai”

“No need to state the obvious”

“Should I call your grandmother?”

“No”

“Why?”

Shikadai shot him a glare, his eyes reminded Shikamaru so much of his wife. Shikamaru was waiting to see what his son had to say but Shikadai turned back to the cutting board, resuming on chopping the carrots.

“I just want to use my own strength to thank Mom for everything she’d done for us” He spoke up after a while. Shikamaru leaned up, seeing the slight blush on his face.

He let out a soft chuckle and took the radish and a peeler “Alright, let’s try our best then”

Cooking was a huge challenge. For someone who never cooked before, the two men were struggling. Luckily, no one lost a finger and after struggling for 3 hours for a food that should only take an hour but that’s fine. Shortly after, Temari got home and they could tell she was fuming.

“I can’t believe they finally let me go” She groaned, sliding the door close “Oi! Nara Shika-“ A familiar scent stopped her and she walked over to the kitchen, looking at the two boys collapsed on the dining table

“Welcome home, Temari” Shikamaru was the first to greet her, sitting up straight “Hope you’re hungry”

“Well…” She tried to gather her thoughts. She gave the kitchen a quick scan. It was surprisingly clean. She went to sit down and watched Shikadai setting the bowl down in front of her. “Did you two made this?” She looked back up at the boys. They laughed sheepishly, small blush creeping onto their faces

“If it’s bad, just tell us” Shikadai scratched his head, casting his eyes down. Temari hummed, taking a small sip. Shikamaru and Shikadai held their breath in anticipation, expecting a disgusted look or any sort of reactions.

“Well…?”

“It’s good” She smiled, taking another spoonful “I’m surprised”

“It was mainly Dai. I just help a little”

“Well, thank you, you two” She flashed them a huge grin. The sight of her soft smile brought warmth to their chests. “I’m surprised you knew how to make Kenchin soup”

“I had to ask gran and uncle Gaara” Shikadai confessed, taking a taste of his soup as well. The taste took him aback and he glanced at his father, watching him taste it as well.

“Why do you seem so surprised?” Temari laughed, reaching over and ruffled his hair “You did amazing Dai, thank you”

“M-Mom…” He blushed a bit “Happy Birthday…” He murmured and Temari smiled

“Thank you”

#naraweek2020 #shikadai nara #shikamaru nara #temari #shikatema #shikadai #shikamaru #woah look at this. a fic? :o #It's still 8:30pm here so I'd say I'm still in time #school has been hard man. Thank god I wrote this way in advanced #i haven't read this since I finished writing it so ignore my typos and grammar mistakes #school has been hell #so yeah... enjoy ig #:)#and no. i will never post these on ao3 hahahahahaha

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Chains (Shinsou X Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader, side!Kirishima

For anon

Genre: Angst to fluff

Word count: 2,576

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Who am I to resist a request? Or even a little angst ;) Take care of your mental health kids, don’t end up like me Thanks for being the first request anon! I hope I did a good job fulfilling your wishes!

When I started writing, I was scrolling through TikToks (bc I’m a loser) and I found one that helped me tweak the climax scene and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. It’s almost twice as long as my previous posts because I wanted to stuff as much into it. Enjoy!

(Also ICYMI I wrote a Todoroki Birthday Special!)

"Are you excited for the Sports Festival?" I swings my legs on the bench, sipping my carton of juice.

Shinsou crosses his leg over the other, leaning his arms on the back of the bench. "Yeah, can't wait to face off with that loud-mouth idiot." He scoffs. "Who does he think he is? His head's stuck far up his ass. I can't believe you're friends with him."

I roll my eyes. "We're not really friends, Kirishima's attached to him at the hip, they're a package deal."

His dark purple eyes glance over me for a moment. "I see."

The expression on his face is unreadable. Not that it's out of the ordinary since he's the quiet type, but it makes me uneasy. Lately, our relationship has become distant ever since both of us made it to UA. I was accepted into 1-A and Shinsou didn't. Though he tells me he supports me wholeheartedly and assures me otherwise, I know he's hurt about it. And it doesn't help that I've had to split my time between him and my classmates after school.

I scoot closer to him, grip his large hands, and lean my head on his shoulder. "You're stressed, aren't you? I really want you to do well so you can transfer into my class. You deserve it."

Shinsou's head rests on mine in response. "I hope I can make it in."

"Hey," I call softly, a faint nagging creeping into my mind. "We're keeping competition between us friendly, right?"

"Afraid you're gonna lose, sweetheart?" he chuckles. I can't hear the smirk on his face.

I shove his shoulder with mine. "Shut up."

Red flag, my mind immediately thinks as I stand there dumbfounded by what he's just said. "You want to what?"

Shinsou crosses his arms over his chest. "I need full control over everyone on my team, that includes you."

My body grows cold and my knees start shaking. He's not joking. There's not a hint of lighthearted joking or teasing in his cold eyes. He's never even joked about it before because he was afraid of what I would think of him if he ever used his quirk on me; he would never forgive himself if he did.

I look down at my shoes. I trust his strategic mind to lead us, but it hurts to think he doesn't trust me enough to help him without control. He just wants to win like you do, I rationalize. But is that enough to relinquish total control to him?

A hand on my shoulder scatters my thoughts and I stare up into Shinsou's concerned gaze. "I know I promised before, but these are different circumstances, I'm sorry. I promise you, we can make it to the next round if you trust me."

Though I still feel torn, I sigh in surrender. "Okay."

He removes his hand, eyes blank. "Are you ready?"

A hint of hesitation persuades me to reconsider, but the thought of letting him down and pushing him away overtakes me. "Yes."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, my breath hitches and my mind goes blank. All stiffness leaves my limbs but I can't move, a numbing cold sensation takes over.

It feels strange, having no control over your body; it moves though you don't will it to, and all you can do is watch. It's almost like you're playing a 4D game, but you're the character and you can still feel everything, but you can't react. Your quirk almost feels fake for a moment until you realize it's your body. As Shinsou maneuvers our entire team to stealthily steal the other teams' headbands with the help of my chain-creation quirk, I feel out of place in my own body.

But I made this choice to trust him, and I will. I just hope I don't have to feel this again.

When I saw our names lined up for the first match, I thought it was some cruel joke my eyes were playing on me. But it wasn't. Shinsou stands across from me in the ring, hands casually stuffed in his pockets like this is the most normal thing, like I'm his enemy.

"So much for keeping competition friendly," he smirks, looking down his nose at me.

I try to match his attitude to mask my uneasy nerves. "Yeah, like you can hurt me more than I can hurt you."

I breathe, thinking of a strategy to beat him. Fortunately, my quirk is pretty offensive while his isn't. I just have to close the distance between us, grab him with my chains, and throw him out of the ring without responding to anything he says. Simple.

"AND START!!!!" Present Mic's voice booms throughout the stadium.

I run to start closing the distance between us. Admittedly, I can't make very long chains that reach all the way to him very quickly, so I have to get closer to my target.

Shinsou knows this, retreating the other way. "I guess you haven't trained enough to extend your quirk." When I don't answer, he continues, "It seems they don't teach you much in that Hero class."

The urge for me to yell at him to shut up is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back. If he catches me, it's game over.

"I guess the only thing that class is good for is nurturing hot-heads and stealing your time from people who're supposed to matter."

I slow down a little, my breath heaving. His words have a dark undertone to them. I understand taunting me with petty, good-natured quips, but is he digging deep?

The smirk on his face wavers a bit. "If I knew being a hero means abandoning the people you care about, then maybe some of us good guys aren't cut out for such a job."

Are you implying I'm a bad guy then? I want to taunt back, but I know I can't.

"But I guess you got into the hero course because you have a heroic quirk," he goes on. "Too bad you can't use it to its full potential yet."

He knows how frustrated I get about my quirk. Which is why he's using it as canon fire against you, I remind myself, picking up the pace again. Damnit! Just slow down already! When did you get so athletic?

"But it's fine, as long as you have fun with your new friends, right?" He suddenly comes to a stop, his back to me.

Though I'm confused and my first instinct is to stop, I rush forward, chains growing out of my palms in preparation.

"Well, I guess you always had the more heroic and useful quirk."

The pain in his voice stops me dead. What-

He turns around, hurt, pain, and anger mixed into his expression. "You must've realized the difference between our quirks, right? That I'm more suited to being a villain?" His eyebrows furrow into more anger. "I knew this day would come, I knew you never really cared about my feelings and you would eventually leave me alone like everyone else!"

Shinsou shouldn’t be like this. The way he’s trained with his quirk naturally made him more blunt and willing to share his opinion, but he's not like this usually. Getting the brunt of that bluntness doesn’t make me feel that great. My silence became less about me staying quiet to avoid his quirk and more me being appalled and dumbstruck by the accusations he’s throwing at me. I know he's only saying things to get me to respond, but when did he cross that line between playful chiding just to win and an actual fight between us? I don't even know how to feel about his words.

"You know, I never fully trusted you," he points a finger at me. "Especially when you were chosen for the Hero class and not me. I knew you would eventually shut me out of your life and avoid me because I don't fit in with your 'hero' friends. You're just like everyone else!"

My mouth gapes open, the words not coming. His apparent pain and frustration urges me to comfort him somehow, but how do I respond? Where do I even start?

Shinsou bites his lip, his features softening up into melancholy. "If you're sick of me, just leave me for Shark Teeth already, okay? Don't string me on like this!"

My chest feels heavy with guilt and I want nothing more than to run to him and throw my arms around him. "Hitoshi-"

The numbness grips me before I can register Shinsou's face relax from agony into a smirk of victory. No...

"OH MY GOD!! SHINSOU WAS FAKING A LOVER'S QUARREL TO TRAP HIS OPPONENT WITH HIS BRAINWASHING!! HOW WILL THIS END?!" Present Mic screams through the speakers.

He was faking. My heart sinks, overcome with varying degrees of fury and self-loathing.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this." Funnily enough, he doesn't sound very apologetic. "But now that I've got you, we can end this. Go walk out of bounds and lose for me."

At this point, I don't even care about losing, or that I'm walking against my will out of this stupid ring. Shinsou said all those things to hurt me intentionally, and when he realized I can ignore his taunts, he took advantage of my feelings. And everything he said, he had to have meant them somehow. I know he's bottled up all those complaints and used them against me now.

Midnight declares Shinsou the winner of the match after I take my final step out of the ring and the feeling returns to my body. When I turn around, he's grinning for his triumphant win, but it falters when he sees me. I'm not in the mood to be a good sport or even offer a smile, I just walk off and let him have his moment.

I walk up to where the rest of Class 1-A is sitting, fists still clenched into white knuckles.

"Nice job, Extra," Bakugou scowls at me, leaning back in his seat. "You got beat by that General Studies loser."

"Shut the hell up, Pomeranian asshat, I'm not in the mood." I slump down a few rows up. I just want to be alone to think. There's the fear in my mind that I didn't show off my quirk enough and I might get replaced because I was eliminated so early and that I'm still weak at my quirk, but those are the least of my worries. How am I supposed to confront Shinsou? A part of me wants to be angry and beat him into next week, but I can't bring myself to.

Kirishima slides into the seat next to me. "Hey, don't be so upset. You tried your best."

I sigh. "Thanks, Kiri. I don't care about losing though."

He puts a hand on my shoulder sympathetically. "That was a pretty nasty fight out there. Is everything okay between you guys?"

"I thought it was!" I burst out, almost laughing at my misfortune. "Apparently I was wrong and oblivious to everything!" I bury my face in my hands. "I just... How did it get to this, Kiri? I thought I knew him enough to know when something's wrong. Instead I let him deal with all those pent up emotions alone. God, I'm so stupid!"

Kirishima takes in my clearly disgruntled state and rubs the back of his neck, appearing uncomfortable. "If I'll be honest, Shinsou would be an idiot to do that to you intentionally, and he's probably kicking himself for what he did. I know he really cares about you, he was just caught in the moment."

I turn my body to face my best friend. "Kiri, I know you're resisting the urge to beat his ass, you don't have to defend him."

"Of course I wanna beat him up! He made you sit here all upset, that's not manly!" He punches his fists together, suddenly fired up before he relaxes. "And at the same time, it wouldn't be manly of me to come between you guys."

I offer him a sad smile. I already know about Kiri's crush on me, he told me a few weeks ago after class when he didn't know I was already taken. Thankfully, he never made anything awkward after that and we've stayed best friends.

"Which is why I should help you guys patch thing up instead!" He flashes a shark-tooth grin. "You guys should really talk it over, clear the air once and for all! I think he would really appreciate it if you gave him a chance to explain his feelings."

I nod to myself. "Yeah, it wouldn't do us any good to let this blow up." Swinging an arm over his shoulder, I ruffle his gelled hair. "You would make a great boyfriend, Kiri, giving great advice like this."

"Hey hey! Don't mess up my hair!" The red-head struggles in my grip. "Don't you have any idea how long it took me to do this morning?!"

I stretch out my sore muscles as I walk out of the changing room, ready to go home after a long day. In the distance, Shinsou's waiting near a bench, hands in his pockets as usual.

"Hey," I greet him with a neutral tone.

He's surprised to see me approach him first. "Hey..."

To avoid too long of an awkward pause, I say, "I'm sorry you didn't win. I guess Midoriya found a way to overcome your quirk."

"Yeah, that was shocking to me." He avoids my gaze, rubbing the back his neck awkwardly.

I swallow, gathering my wits. I've rehearsed what I wanted to say while I was sitting around idle during the day and I'm ready to let it all out. "I-"

"I'm really sorry for everything I said." Shinsou beats me to the punch. "I want to take it back and say none of it was true, but my feelings are still there." He shuffles his feet together. "I know you were still trying to make time for me, I was just selfish that you were spending time with Ashido and Kirishima and...their friends. My own insecurities got in the way." His hand lands on my head, a sign of his affection. "You made it into the Hero class by your own merit. And I do trust that you wouldn't leave me. You're the best thing that's happened to me and I almost screwed this up. And if you're still mad, I understand-"

I cut him off by enveloping him in a hug, squeezing him with my arms around him as I bury my face in his chest. "It's my fault too. I should've been more aware of your feelings and addressed them."

His arms timidly wrap around my frame. "So, you're not mad?"

"I mean, I still want to slap you for using your quirk on me twice when you promised you'd never do it."

His body rumbles as he laughs at me, petting my head. "I'm sorry for that too. I won't do it again."

"You better not," I threaten, though I know it's empty. "It really didn't feel good. If you do it again, as soon as I'm out, I'm whipping you with my chains."

He's silent for a moment. "Should I be excited or scared?" A girlish scream escapes his lips when metal collides with his back.

I had to I’m sorry :)

So the full anon ask (in case you were wondering) was: i absolutely love your writing! the shinso one is amazing! Idk if you write angst (to fluff) but if you do can you write: shinso and reader dating but the sports festival came up and they are against each other. shinso ends up saying negative things about the reader / relationship to try to get her to talk back. Reader ends up upset and wonders if he went too far. asks her best friend Kiri (who has a crush on her) for advice. And the rest is up to you :)

Thanks again anon for being my first request :)

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kirishima #mha angst #shinsou angst #angst to fluff #request #ask #anon #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenario #gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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lousimusician · 5 years

Text

Sex Pollen Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter has to deal with the effects of the sex pollen plant while you have to make a decision on what to do

A/N: okay this is by far the most popular fic I ever wrote. I had a lot of problems with trying to tag everyone so I'm really sorry if I couldn't get you in, tumblr just kinda gave up towards the end of the list.

Warning: Language, Masturbation

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

"You what!" Tony hissed.

You sat down on the end of the couch next to Thor as Bruce explained to your dad the events that had taken place only minutes before, while you were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater.

"I know." Bruce said. "I screwed up-"

"Screwed up!? Bruce you gave the kid alien viagra!" He shouted. His eyes snapped to you. "And you- what were you doing in an unsupervised lab!?"

You scoffed. "How was I supposed to know Banner brought an alien sex plant into the tower."

Tony ignored your comment, going back to Bruce, "How do we fix this? I'm not really up to telling his aunt that we've made her nephew basically go into heat."

Bruce chuckled nervously. "See, uh, that's the thing. The cure is, uh- it's uh- it's"

"Sex." Thor finished.

Tony sighed. "Of course it is." He grumbled. "Do we know if he has a girlfriend or something?" He asked.

"Well actually," Bruce cut in. "The plant kinda gives off the scent of the person you like, so it can only be with the girl who's scent he smelled on the plant."

"Okay, do we know who it is? Hopefully a girl that he already knows intimately, because I'm not letting some poor girl that barely knows him go in there."

Bruce looked away nervously, while you stared intently at your hands, your cheeks heating up. Even Thor didn't seem like the one who wanted to be the one to tell him.

Tony noticed the strange looks on everyone's faces. "What? Who is it?"

"You're not gonna like it." Bruce warned.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Bruce, who is it?"

Bruce glanced towards you, making Tony follow his line of sight. Tony's eyes widened. "Are you telling me there's a horny teenage boy trying to mount my daughter."

You groaned loudly, "Oh my God, dad, don't say mount!"

Bruce scratched the back of his neck. "Kinda."

"Yeah, absolutely not. We're gonna have to find another way."

"You may want to reconsider that Stark." Thor said. "I noticed the spider has been getting worse and it's only been twenty minutes. I think his powers may be speeding up the process."

"And what happens if this pollen stays in his system?"

"It would become increasingly painful and uncomfortable for him. Possibly causing trauma."

Tony let out an annoyed breath. "Is there anything else I should know about this plant?"

Thor hummed in thought. "From what I know about the plant, the pollen affects the body the person affects the mind."

Tony blinked. "Okay, try that in English now."

"The pollen will only affect his body, but he'll still be able to think clearly. But if (Y/N) goes near him, he won't be able to think straight. So as long as the two stay apart he won't become a danger to Lady (Y/N)." Silence filled the room as Tony thought about what to do, but the silence was quickly ended by Thor adding his two cents. "But I do think it'd be wiser to send Lady (Y/N) in there."

"Okay how 'bout you leave the problem solving to the scientist's. Just go throw out the shrubbery Point Break." Tony said, sending Thor off. He turned to you now. "And you young lady are going to your room. And I don't want you going anywhere near the nymphomaniac. Understood."

"Understood." You echoed, rolling your eyes before heading up to your bedroom. "Oh and only women are nymphomaniac's, it's a different word for guys." You called back sarcastically over your shoulder.

"Yeah whatever." He muttered back, off to the lab.

~~~~~~~~

Peter was convinced that he was going to die in a lust driven haze.

The first few hours of being locked in his room was torture. The second he was tossed into the room, he tried to break down the door, finding that Tony Stark was very thorough with the structure of the tower, making it impossible for it to budge even under his super strength. That was when he had resorted to banging on the door and begging to be let out, begging for you.

But when that was deemed useless, his attention turned to just how uncomfortably hard he was. He leaned his head against the door, squeezing his eyes shut, groaning as he palmed himself, aiming for any type of relief no matter how minimal it would be.

"Peter." He heard you say breathily against his ear.

His eyes snapped open, looking to his left, before realizing it wasn't real. That it was just his mind running wild. That he had to be hallucinating now.

But nevertheless, he rest his head back against the door, shutting his eyes. Because a hallucination of you was better than nothing at all.

"Peter." You whispered against his ear, lips barely touching the shell of his ear, your breath making goosebumps rise. "Please, Peter." You whined, hands coming up around his waist, your head falling against his neck. "I need you."

Peter's eyes shot wide open, and he got up, bolting to his bed. Kicking off his shoes and shedding his shirt in the process. He fell onto his bed, hands flying to undo his pants, pushing them down, boxers and all. His cock sprung up, the tip red and swollen with drops of precum forming. His head fell back against the pillow, and he closed his eyes once again, throwing an arm over them. His free hand gripping himself tightly.

You laid next to him, trailing kisses down his neck.

You were far from real, but you were still able to make it feel like he was suffocating. His hand starting to slide up and down, to the thought of you.

Peter gripped your chin, pulling you up, crashing your lips against his. He took control of the situation quickly, he needed to or else it would drive him insane with your incessant light touches.

He flipped the two of you over, now sitting between your legs. Your body clad only in a pair of panties. His gaze devoured you. Peter trailed a hand down over your breast, pinching a nipple before ghosting over your stomach, and lightly stroking you over your underwear. The reaction was immediate, your hips bucked against his hand, searching for any kind of friction, as you let out a high pitched moan.

"Please," you whined. "I need you so bad." You practically cried.

It was like his brain went into overdrive from that point on.

He wasn't able to focus on one thing in particular. Flashes of you writhing underneath him as he fucked you into the mattress. Images of you on top, underneath him, on your stomach, on your knees.

Your voice whining, moaning, screaming his name begging for a release.

His hand sped up, causing him to buck his hips into his own grasp. He moaned loudly, alerting anyone that happened to walk past the bedroom to know exactly what was happening. He moaned your name over and over again, amongst an array of profanities as well. His sweat drenched skin, beginning to stick to the sheets of the bed.

Nails digging into his shoulders, your entire body tensing up as you got closer and closer to the edge, breathing ragged and rough. Then your head falling back into the pillow, arching your back as you finally came with a scream of his name.

As he finally came with a scream of your name.

Peter panted harshly, now covered in his own cum and sweat. Relief flooding his senses.

But only for a few minutes, before he was unbelievably hard again.

Peter let out a broken sob of frustration as an even stronger flood of arousal took over every one of his senses. And he still found that the one person that would have been able to satiate him wasn't there.

Peter had no idea how long he was there for, but by the time his head started to clear, he noted that it was already nighttime. Meaning he had wasted the entire afternoon jerking off to thoughts of you.

The moment his body had spent enough time away from you his head started to clear, his brain no longer dealing with the heavy fog that had been there since he smelled that fucking plant.

And Peter couldn't tell which was worse.

He was immediately filled with a sense of guilt and embarassment at his actions, but he still needed to touch himself because he felt like he'd catch on fire if he didn't.

And because he was still so fucking hard.

He had no idea how many times he had came that afternoon, the sheets drying with his own cum as more of it was cooling on his thighs and stomach. And he still hadn't felt any better, in fact he was starting to feel even worse.

He laid in bed with the shame eating away at him. It was hot and stuffy, he felt like he couldn't breathe and he was dripping sweat. He found that with any slight movement that caused the bed sheets to rub against his skin he had to fight back a pitiful moan, self conscious now by how loud he had been during the day.

Yes, Peter was sure that this was how he was going to die.

What an embarrassing ending to a superhero, he thought.

~~~~~~

You sat uncomfortably in the kitchen. The rest of the Avengers, Nat, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Thor, and Wanda had gathered for dinner, some choosing to sit at the table, or lean against the counter or wall. You personally chose to sit on the kitchen counter, away from the rest.

It was awkwardly quiet at dinner. Just ten minutes ago Peter seemed to quiet down, you hoped that maybe he fell asleep.

You were incredibly self conscious while everyone ate. You hadn't expected Peter to be so loud.

Everyone knew exactly what had happened that afternoon.

They kinda had to, he had been screaming and moaning your name and curses at the top of his lungs for four hours straight.

Your dad had stayed in the lab with Bruce to try and figure out a cure, and because he didn't care for hearing his protege crying out for his daughter.

"So." Bucky started, finally breaking the awkward silence. "He seems excited."

You groaned. "Shut up."

Bucky laughed. "You plan on joining him anytime soon?"

You blushed hard, staring at your dinner.

"Leave her alone Buck." Steve said.

"Oh I'm just kidding." Bucky responded back.

"So what happened again?" Sam asked, still thoroughly confused by the situation.

"Bruce brought back an alien plant from your mission last week." You started. "And this kind of plant is used for their breeding process. Peter smelled it and now, well..." You finished awkwardly.

"He wants to fuck?" Bucky asked.

You cleared your throat. "Basically, yeah."

"Hey, here's a question." Nat said. "What the hell are your dad and Bruce doing? If this is normal for those aliens shouldn't there already be a way to reverse it?"

Thor exhaled loudly, gaining everyone's attention. "I suppose I'll explain it again. The only cure is for the Spider to have sex with Lady (Y/N). I doubt Stark and Banner are going to find another cure anytime soon."

You stared intently at your dinner as the others processed the new information.

"Then." Bucky said. "Why doesn't (Y/N) just go up there and, y'know. I mean it sounds like he could use it."

Your face was so warm and you felt so embarrassed, this wasn't a conversation you ever hoped to experience with them. "My dad would never let that happen, and plus what about consent. I doubt Peter's in any state to consent to that- I mean not saying that I would even help him!" You yelped. "Not that I wouldn't if he really needed it but-"

Thor cut you off. "Actually, you would be able to get his full consent. Remember when I said that the person affects the mind. If the Spider has gone long enough without you near him, he'd be in a perfectly good state of mind to give his consent."

"How's he supposed to consent if she can't go near him?" Steve asked

Thor shrugged. "Send someone to talk to him."

"There, problem solved." Bucky said with a grin, looking at you.

"Okay!" You yelped. "Can we just slow down for a second. My dad is gonna figure this out, and there will be no need for me to... y'know."

"Well actually." Thor said again. "Depending on how long it takes there could be some lasting effects on him."

"What kind of lasting effects?" You asked skeptically.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I'd imagine he's feeling a lot of shame right now but his body is still reacting to the pollen. I imagine that can be difficult for the brain to process."

"Great." You muttered sarcastically. "Can this day get any better?"

Bucky chuckled. "Well technically it could-"

"Oh shut it Bucky." You snapped.

Wanda studied you for a second before she cleared her throat, "(Y/N), Nat. Can we talk privately for a second."

Dread washed over you, no doubt already knowing that Wanda looked inside your head. You nodded your head and followed the two women out of the kitchen, regardless.

Wanda took the two of you into her bedroom, making sure the bedroom door was locked before turning to you.

"You don't think your father is going to fix it." Wanda said.

You groaned in frustration. "Wanda, I told you to stop looking in my head." You complained, throwing yourself onto your bed.

Nat sighed, sitting down next to you. "Alright, kid. What do you wanna do about this? Do you really believe Thor is right?"

You grunted out a yes. "I trust Thor more when it comes to these alien things. And I'm just scared for Peter. Even if they do figure it out, who knows how long it'll take. We don't even know how this'll affect Peter."

"Would you help him the way Thor suggested?" Wanda asked.

You became flustered. "I-I- guess- he's my friend, and he needs help."

Wanda snorted. "That and you've liked him for two years."

You sat up quickly and looked at Wanda. "Stop with the mind reading already."

Wanda smirked. "I didn't read your mind for that one, it was just a lucky guess."

You huffed, falling back down onto the bed.

"(Y/N)." Nat said, gaining your attention again. "You and Peter are both consenting adults now. Okay? If you truly think you have a better shot at helping him than your dad, maybe you should trust your gut. I'm not telling you what to do, your consent is just as important as his. All I'm saying is to really consider your options on this, and do whatever you're the most comfortable with. Alright?"

You bit your lip, nodding your head. "O-okay. But my dad-"

"Forget about him. Peter's your friend, do what you think's best."

You nodded again. "I just need to think for a bit."

"Of course." Nat smiled.

You thanked Wanda and Nat, before heading to your own room to think about the situation.

But honestly,

You were pretty sure you had already .made up your mind.

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

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gothpanda · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch.23: I’m So Stupid

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

A/N: Jesus I had a rough week Enjoy this chapter!!

WARNINGS: Language, Drug use, aggressive nature

TAGS: @madamsixx

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Previous/Next

July 23, 1985

Sammi stared down at her hands, tap anxiously on the green table of the booth she sat in. The diner was running slow for a Wednesday, only a handful of people spread out in the restaurant. Sammi kept looking at her watch then to the door, reconsidering even being here. A waitress would come from time to time to see if Sammi needed anything, only getting turned down. Maybe Sammi shouldn't have come so early. The glass doorbell ring made Sammi's ear perk up like a fox, looking straight ahead of her. Except instead of Vince, it was an older man with a small happy child who had a smile on their face. Sammi scuffed to herself, beginning to bite the nail on her thumb. It wasn't until she heard the bell ring again that Sammi saw Vince's face, standing there without knowing what to do. He scratched the back of his head, slowly walking up to the booth. Sammi swallowed away her nerves, hugging her body for comfort. Sliding into the booth, Vince took off his jean jacket and gave a small smile to his ex-girlfriend.

"Hi," said Vince, holding his hands together.

"Hey, Vince, how have you been?" asked Sammi, taking a sip of water.

"Not much different from the last time you saw me. Sharise is busting my ball for no reason," complained Vince. Sammi stayed quiet from the sound of her name, looking at her nails. "So, you wanted to talk finally?"

"Yeah, I think I've had enough time being a bitch to you," said Sammi, reaching inside her purse. She pulled out a folded sheet of a notebook paper, bullet point thoughts all scribbled down to a mess. Vince scowled at Sammi, raising a questionable eyebrow at the girl.

"You have a list of shit?" asked Vince, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes, because I rather read off a list then run off emotions," Sammi said, scanning over what she wrote down. "As I said, I've had enough time being a bitch to you,"

"I wouldn't say a bitch. It's not like I didn't deserve any of it. Except maybe that bottle to my head," joked Vince. Sammi took a deep breath, laying the paper flat on the table for even Vince to see some thoughts. Sammi bit her lip, feeling her heart beating so fast in her chest, and she couldn't help calm it down. After a bit of silence, Sammi looked Vince right in the eyes that she loved so dearly.

"First off, when did you two meet exactly?" asked Sammi, swallowing the knot in her throat. Vince rubbed the sweat off his jeans, coughing to clear his throat.

"It was back in May when Tropicana was brand new. It was one of the nights you wanted to stay at your parents' place, I met up with some guys to drink with and ended up there," answered Vince, grabbing a sugar packet to keep his hands busy.

Sammi nodded, "And when you met her, did you two immediately hook up?"

"No! No. She just gave me a lap dance and kept flirting with me all night, but we didn't kiss or anything," replied Vince, biting his lip.

"So when did you two exactly have sex? Because I doubt you got her pregnant off a one time moment in August," Sammi bit the inside of her cheek, looking out the window to compose herself from any tears.

"July, I guess. I don't remember the exact fucking date. I just know that it was one of the nights you weren't feeling like going out," explained Vince, dropping his head into his hands' palm. Sammi shook her head, dabbing the corner of her eye to catch any tears from falling.

"So it went on for months? You had sex with her multiple times?" asked Sammi with a stern voice. Vince nodded sheepishly. "And you still fucking went back even after you got her pregnant. Then you got mad at me for having a good time when you ditched me for her back at Purple Moon! Oh my god," gasped Sammi, covering her face in her hand then pushing away hair that fell out of place.

"I didn't ditch you for her! I didn't know. She didn't even know! We only had sex max five times when I got crossfaded; it meant nothing,"

"Clearly, if you acted as if you didn't do anything. I thought for almost a full year; you were such a great boyfriend. You made me feel so happy, and yet you were sitting on this lie. You were lying every day," uttered Sammi, looking straight into Vince's eyes with tears building up. "Why? Why weren't you happy with just me?"

Vince slumped in his seat, finally feeling the heartbreak he caused to Sammi. He could finally see the sadness that came from his mistakes. Vince only received anger from Sammi after everything. He received Sammi's attitude tenfold, the rudeness, and the foul language. Vince never saw Sammi cry from the pain he caused, not even the first time he fucked up. "I was happy with you," whispered Vince, feeling his cheek flush with embarrassment. "I just don't know when to say no, especially now being a big shot rockstar. Now, look at me. I'm a dad who killed his friend, and everyone hates me,"

"I should have never gotten mad at you that night outside of Rainbow. I guess… I would get mad at you for doing dumb shit because I kept making mistakes behind your back. I wanted you to stay the same perfect Samantha. The one who was always ahead of everyone with a kind smile on her face," expressed Vince, having some sort of courage to look right in Sammi's eye when he spoke to her.

"I'm not perfect, Vince, nor will I ever be. Just because I have a different life than you doesn't make me better or lesser than you," said Sammi, looking back down at the piece of paper.

When did they meet?

When did they first hook up?

Ask if he regrets anything.

Ask if he was ever going to tell me.

Talk about him moving on so fast.

Ask if he's okay

Admit, I'm sleeping with Nikki. Fuck that.

"I don't hate you. I want you to know that," admitted Sammi, folding the piece of paper in her hands, stuffing it back in her handbag. "Do you regret anything you've done to me?"

"Yes, I regret being a manwhore to you. You had a point even back then in the beginning," mumbled Vince. "Do you regret being with me? After all the shit I put you through," asked Vince. Sammi looked down at the table, pondering on her emotions to answer Vince. It was a thought she said to herself after everything. Sammi knew everything people go through has a purpose and a lesson. It was great to be with Vince, but now thinking how half of it being based on a sitting lie, it hurts even more.

"It's funny. I keep telling myself I should've just been cold to you guys when I saw you all, and maybe I'd be okay. I don't regret being with you because a lot of fun came from it. I just wish it didn't end like I expected," confessed Sammi, wiping away a single tear that came down her face.

"I'm sorry for hurting you. Do you know if you can ever forgive me?"

"I want to, but maybe let's wait a while,"

"I figured… I'm also sorry about being paranoid about Nikki. Guess I'm a hypocrite for assuming," said Vince, shaking his head like he was dumb to think such a thing. Sammi bit her lip, anxiously bouncing her leg under the table from the words Nikki. Sammi knew everyone would find out soon enough, but hearing Vince calling himself a hypocrite just made it harder ever to spill the secret.

"It's okay. I forgive you for that," Sammi bit her tongue, knowing damn well she was wrong in this department. Vince smiled at Sammi, feeling like he was going in the right direction with his favorite girl. "If you didn't get caught, were you ever going to tell me?"

Vince looked out for a moment, trying not to lie to make himself look good. "Yeah, I was. After stopping I kept thinking about it, but then more shit got into the mix," Sammi could see the pain in Vince's eyes from talking so much, realizing this is most likely the most, he's opened up in a long time.

"Vince… be honest with me. Are you okay? How have you been doing with everything?" asked Sammi, resisting the urge to hold Vince's hands from across the table. Vince let out a heavy breath, going back to messing with the sugar packet.

"No, I'm not. I have to be completely sober until my court date. Your brother and his bitch won't shut their fucking mouths about it. Sharise and I fight for everything. And I have no idea how to be a dad," admitted Vince, eyes looking defeated to Sammi.

"You haven't done drugs? Or drank?" Vince shook his head. "Since the incident?" Sammi asked again in disbelief of a sober Vince.

"Yeah. I have to go get tested each week. This has been the soberest I've been since I was 15," said Vince.

"Tommy and Nikki shouldn't be on your ass for being a responsible person. I'll yell at them to stop bothering you if you need me to," offered Sammi, reaching out to hold Vince's hands. Vince didn't protest, enjoying the tiny bit of affection he received that wasn't sexual. It was just the needed kindness he desperately craved.

"It's okay, Sammi. I'm a grown man, and I should do things on my own. Even if it means my own band hates me for it," answered Vince, gently rubbing his thumb on the back of Sammi's hand. Sammi looked down at their hands, smiling to herself but kept reminding she isn't really a single woman. "But I appreciate the offer. Since you're so smart, do you have any advice for being a dad, or can you do that for me also?" joked Vince, smirking at Sammi.

Sammi couldn't help but giggle with Vince's joke, feeling like everything was back to normal. "No, I don't. You're just going to have to talk to Sharise about being a dad. Also, isn't your daughter like a month old or something? You have time to get better," said Sammi.

"Skylar. Her name's Skylar," smiled Vince.

"That's a pretty name. I'm sure you will have enough time to be a better dad to Skylar," reassured Sammi, squeezing Vince's hands.

"Thank you. Listen, I really appreciate this. I miss being able to talk to someone my shit," said Vince. Sammi smiled at Vince, beginning to play with fingers and pop them as if the two were back to being the normal them. "I even miss you popping my fingers. I guess you really do take things for granted until they're gone,"

"As much as I love an open and meaningful Vince, did you just learn that shit in probation rehab or?" asked Sammi, cracking a smile that made Vince laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah, I fucking did," admitted Vince, laughing along with Sammi. "But hey, it's an improvement! am I right?"

"It definitely is an improvement for sure," said Sammi, relaxing back in the booth. The two held hands for longer than needed, reminiscing on the feeling from the pasts. Vince couldn't help to think of how this wasn't like Sharise. He and Sharise never had a moment of comfortable silence, even after the nights of sex. It felt fast-paced and no ounce of peace compared to how Sammi loved gentle moments. Those moments where Sammi would dance her finger on Vince's scalp, making him relax while watching tv. The moments of Vince hugging Sammi from behind as she studied hard in his office space, giving her any feeling of reassurance. Vince was beginning to remember how bad he ruined this good thing in his life. Sammi didn't know what to say or do, only kept close before leaving and going back to Nikki.

August 9, 1985

Los Angeles, California

Sammi and Athena strut down Hollywood Boulevard, smiling and laughing with the wind playing up in their hair. Sammi glanced down on her wrist, seeing her brand new watch read 3:30 in the afternoon. The day was beautiful for the boys to start their tour, wind cooling the California summer heat and not a cloud in the sky. The Bass sisters had a day off to surprise Tommy and the boys while they did soundcheck, everything feeling perfect for once. After a short walk from the public parking garage, Athena opened the Hollywood Pantages Theatre's massive doors. The roadies were pacing around at the front of the theatre, putting up a table of merchandise of shirts, posters, and records. Sammi glanced around the grand entrance with glee until her eyes fell on a woman and a brand new blonde baby in her arms. Sammi froze from a distance, Athena standing next to her sister to catch Sammi's eyes on Sharise standing with a tiny Skylar.

Sharise bounded Skylar in her arms, seeming tired and irritated all at the same time until finally noticing the Bass sisters look at her. She forced a smile to Sammi, slowly approaching them in the center of the entrance. Athena laced her arm around Sammi's, standing in as the protective sister she was. Sammi almost held her breath, couldn't keep her eyes off Skylar.

"Hi, Sammi. Hi, Athena. How have you girls been?" asked Sharise with a kind smile.

"We've been good, Sharise. How's being a new mama?" asked Sammi with no anger in her heart, smiling as if she was catching up with an old friend.

"Crazy. I had no idea how much one baby can be such a handful. It isn't easy when you feel like you're doing it alone," vented Sharise, smiling at Skylar look at Athena and Sammi in curiosity.

Sammi smiled at the baby. "Hi, Skylar! Aren't you just the prettiest little girl," cooed Sammi making Skylar laugh a bit.

"Vince isn't helping you?" asked Athena, frowning deep 11 lines between her brows.

"No, he tries but gives up and just looks at me to finish everything. He's also under a lot of stress with touring and his court date. I'm sure he vented to you about it," said Sharise to Sammi, pressing her lips hard together.

"Um… yeah, he did, but I told him to talk to you about it. You and Vince can help each navigate being brand new parents together," uttered Sammi, playing with her hands to ease the nerves.

"Thank you for trying. I don't think I'll see that happening anytime soon," mumbled Sharise, trying to keep Skylar from jumping out of her arms. For being two months old, she had the capability of moving around fast, almost like her daddy. It was cute to everyone but hard for Sharise to keep her still when necessary. Skylar's arms popped up wide from her little chest, reaching out for Sammi to hold her. Sharise tried to make Skylar stop moving, but it only resulted in Skylar letting out small cries.

"I think she wants Sammi to hold her?" questioned Athena, switching glances between the two girls.

"Oh no, you don't have to, Sammi. I get it if it's uncomfortable," offered Sharise.

"Honestly, it's not. I'm completely okay holding little Skylar," said Sammi, reaching out to hold the baby, slowly switching between her and Sharise. Sammi bounced Skylar in her arms, seeing a bright smile that almost resembled Vince's. Skylar rested her head on Sammi's shoulder, feeling very at peace in Sammi's even though she was a complete stranger. Athena and Sharise gawked in shock at the baby's reaction, seeing how gentle and kind Sammi appeared.

"Wow. You're the first person she's felt comfortable with that wasn't family," admitted Sharise, not knowing if she favored this or not. Sharise knew she was the other woman who got in between Sammi and Vince, but she wasn't used to the kindness she was receiving.

"I guess babies just love me. Jesus, you're gonna look just like your dad. I can already see it," said Sammi to Skylar in a cute voice, making her smile. Sharise slightly shaking her head at Sammi's statement.

"You were on your way to see Vince or?" asked Athena.

"Yeah, since he's gonna be on tour, I thought I'd visit family in Nebraska. I really don't like being alone in that big house," said Sharise, fixing her hair.

"Well, in that case, let's see them before they ditch this place," announced Athena, heading right to the theatre doors.

"You can keep carrying her if you want. She really likes you," said Sharise, following Athena's footsteps. Sammi followed behind with Skylar quietly resting on her hip, almost falling asleep. The theatre was ginormous, having an upstairs for extra people to sit. The album cover was drawn big on the center stage as roadies continued to set up amps and instruments. The three girls could see Vince sat in the front row seats, isolated from the guys on the stage. Sammi could tell Nikki appeared more irritated than before, sipping on his soda with a sulking stare. Tommy and Mick talking among themselves, soon seeing the women come closer. As the girls reached the stage, Sammi stood right in front of Vince, smiling mischievously.

"Surprise! I have your child," said Sammi, Skylar noticing her dad seated down in front of them now. She began cooing in excitement, reaching out for Vince as he stood up from the red velvet chair.

"Uhh, why are you here? And why do you have my child?" asked Vince, lifting his daughter out of Sammi's arms, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"What? I can't come to visit my brother and friends at work? Also, Skylar wanted me!" said Sammi, crossing her arms, still smiling pridefully while Sharise stood right by her. Vince switched looks between the two women, unable to say anything that came into his head. 'They're acting like friends?' thought Vince, also seeing the confused looks from the rest of Motley.

"Skylar has found someone to like that isn't related to us. Isn't that nice for our little girl?" said Sharise, showing her annoyance for Vince already after a few words. Athena could see the tension needing to be cut with a knife, stepping over to Sammi to grab her hand and watch this drama from a distance. Sammi smiled at the couple, heading towards Nikki, Tommy, and Mick, who also wanted to see the show. Nikki shook his head at Sharise and Vince, Sammi boosting herself up to sit right next to him on stage. Athena standing right by Mick, who strummed on his guitar.

"Is this bring your fucking girlfriend to work day?" whispered Nikki to everyone, Tommy giggling.

"Wish I had a girlfriend," mumbled Mick with sadness, sipping the water bottle he always carried. Athena softly reassured Mick, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"I know Mick, I know," muttered Nikki, seeing Sammi staring right at him with a scowl. "Can I help you?" asked Nikki, getting closer to Sammi's face, making her break into an almost smile.

"Who else's girlfriends have been coming in today?" asked Sammi, raising an eyebrow in question. Nikki smirked and chuckled, hinting as to who else has come to the venue without exposing them. He really did like reaching the edge of getting caught. Sammi could see Sharise grab Skylar out of Vince's arms in the short distance, saying a monotone goodbye and turning on her heels to the door. Vince didn't hold back his somber face, hearing Skylar cries echo throughout the theater. Sammi caught Vince's eyes, giving a sympathetic smile to reassure him. Vince just stayed in his seat to sulk.

"Heather came today before going to pick up her parents. I'm having dinner with them tonight before we head out on Saturday after this show," said Tommy, stealing a sip of Mick's water bottle. "Where… I will propose…" mumbled Tommy, coughing. Athena and Sammi whipping their heads fast with big eyes at their older brother.

"You're proposing?!" yelled out the Bass sisters in unison. Everyone in the building turned their heads to the sisters, beginning to eavesdrop. Sammi jumped off the stage, standing right in front of Tommy with arms crossed, ready to lecture him as if he were a child. Vince came up from his seat, almost slamming against Sammi with his jaw dragging on the floor.

"You wanna get married?!" asked Vince frantically, frowning at the drummer.

"How long have you two even been dating? Trust me, it's not been long!" said Athena, restraining herself from raising her voice.

"I know, but I feel confident about Heather! Mama and Dad love her, which is great, and look how nice she is! You guys always know I wanted to get married to someone I love," explained Tommy, dropping to his feet to the ground and standing up for himself.

"Dude, the last girl you wanted to marry called me a cunt, and I almost punched her. Why can't you just wait a year?" expressed Sammi, frowning with deep concern. Tommy scratched his head, looking down at feet with everyone staring at him.

"It's different this time. I swear it really is and come on I know you girls love her too. Can I just please have my two favorite people be on my side? Please?" begged Tommy, smiling down at his sisters. Athena and Sammi exchanged looks of worry melting away with the love they had for their brother.

"Fine, you're right. If you're thrilled with Heather, then I guess we should be too. Right, Sammi?" asked Athena, nudging Sammi with her elbow.

"Yeah. She is pretty nice," mumbled Sammi, smiling at Tommy. Tommy hugged Athena and Sammi so tight it almost made Sammi regret being sweet. Sammi pushed away from the group hug, seeing Vince on the verge of wanting to speak to her. Nikki grabs Mick's water bottle, jumping off the edge of the stage to hang an arm around Vince's shoulders.

"Want some water, Vince? Made a mint too?" asked Nikki, chuckling at Vince's discomfort of being sober. Sammi rolled her eyes, pushing Nikki's arm off of Vince, gaining a smile from the blonde and a scowl from Nikki.

"Leave him alone, Nikki. You shouldn't be tempting him like that," scolded Sammi.

"Why? He's a big boy. If he wants to break he little sobriety that's on him," said Nikki, poking Vince in the cheek only to get his hand slapped away. Sammi shook her head, narrowing eyes to Nikki, becoming peeved on the way he was behaving.

"You're such an asshole, Nikki," spat Sammi, looping her arm onto Vince's and pulling him away from everyone. "Come on, Vin, I need a smoke already," Vince didn't object to Sammi, surprised but still smiling at the gesture. Nikki stared at the two walkings off, mouth opened slightly as if he was the one who should be offended.

"Oh, so you two are friends now?" shouted Athena. Tommy looked in disbelief, but with some sort of happiness that the two were friendly again.

"Yeah!" yelled Sammi, pushing open the doors and heading straight to the main doors. Sammi let go of Vince's arm, searching in her purse for her pack of cigarettes until Vince held up two cigarettes. She happily took for herself, leaning towards her own lighter and passing it to Vince. She inhaled for a moment, feeling the smoke relax her until Sammi blew it out into the wind. Sammi side-eyed Vince seeing him smile with glee while smoke aside her.

"What's that smile for?" asked Sammi with a smirk on her lips

"Just find it enjoyable when you call out people on rare occasions. Such a loudmouth for such a tiny body," said Vince.

"You could say you're welcome to get Nikki off your back," suggested Sammi, shrugging her shoulders while keeping the same energy.

"Thank you. I highly appreciate it," smiled Vince. "I swear I don't know how I'm going to be able to be on a bus with those guys, mainly Nikki,"

"I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think," reassured Sammi, stepping on the small cigarette bud.

"Really? I'm sober while the rest of my band is too high or drunk to know what's going on. I mean, look at our album, it's crap!" vented Vince.

"It can't be crap if it's doing so well," said Sammi.

"Have you ever listened to the album? The whole thing?" asked Vince, seeing Sammi shake her head. "Okay, so what songs have you heard?"

"Home Sweet Home…" muttered Sammi.

"The only good original song plus the cover we did. That's it! Nikki was too high to write actual good songs,"

"He's written with coke in his system before, and it's been fine. It's just one album that you don't like. Pretty sure every one band member in any band has felt like that," said Sammi, moving to be right next to Vince on the wall. Vince frowned at Sammi, giving her pity on her oblivion.

"Sam, Nikki's been doing more than just coke lately. You haven't seen the tiny tracks on his arm?" asked Vince, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" questioned Sammi, blinking rapidly.

"He's been shooting up. He's doing heroin and mixing coke and something else with Tommy. You really haven't noticed?" said Vince, stepping on his cigarette to get another one. Sammi stared at Vince in disbelief, not wanting to think of Nikki going back to heroin after being together. After he promised he wasn't going to do it again.

"I'm an idiot," whispered Sammi, dropping her head into the palm of her hand. "So he never stopped? Even after the studio incident?" Vince shook his head to Sammi, only making her huff.

"Did he tell you he was going to stop?" asked Vince, taking a drag from his cigarette. Sammi nodded, looking down at the ground. "And when did he tell you that?"

"Back in February. I went to his house and tried talking to him after what happened to you. I flushed the rest of the shit he had in his room," confessed Sammi, looking at Vince with sad eyes.

"Clearly, that didn't stop him. Please don't tell me he got angry at you for flush his drugs down the toilet," said Vince, turning his body to face Sammi.

"He grabbed my wrist really hard but apologized after. That was it. God, I'm so stupid for believing him!" yelled Sammi, feeling her cheeks turn red from embarrassment. Vince sighed, stepping on his cigarette, slowly wrapping his arm around Sammi's shoulders. Sammi didn't reject the hug, her arm finding Vince's waist and resting her head on his chest. Vince rubbed Sammi's arm for comfort, resting his chin on the top of his former girlfriend's head.

"It's not your fault Sammi for having a big heart. You just have to realize you're talking to four men who don't listen to anything. Even if we know we're doing something completely wrong," calmly said Vince, being the one to get reassurance for once in a long time.

"So what, you guys are just gonna slowly kill yourselves?"

"Look, you can try as hard as you want to get to Nikki because I know he mildly listens to you, but don't be sad if nothing happens," said Vince, letting go of Sammi and digging his hands in his jean pockets. "And try not to flush his drugs again. I wouldn't want to beat his ass for hurting you," Vince pinched Sammi's cheek, making her smile like always, not knowing if they should head back to soundcheck.

"Okay… I'll take your advice," mumbled Sammi, giving Vince a proper hug.

"You'll what?" asked Vince with a cunning smile, squeezing Sammi with his arms. Sammi began laughing out loud to Vince, trying her best to break out of the hug.

"I said I'll take your advice! Jesus, stop squeezing me!" ordered Sammi, breaking to giggles as Vince still kept a tight grip on the small girl. "What is it gonna take for you to let me go!?" asked Sammi, almost falling back.

"Say I'm your best friend who's right for once," shouted Vince, leaning forward to make Sammi bend backward, his laughs muffled against Sammi's shoulder.

"No!" Vince squeezed Sammi a bit harder, "Fine! You're my best friend who's actually right for once in his life!" shouted Sammi, finally being released by Vince's grip, seeing him have a shit-eating grin on his face. "Happy?'

"Yep!" said Vince, about to head back inside until Sammi took hold of his wrist. "What?"

"Well, 'best friend,' you're not gonna tell me why Sharise looked like she hated you earlier?" asked Sammi, raising an eyebrow.

Vince huffed, "I haven't been able to talk to her. She keeps running off on me to her friends or family. Please, I don't want to talk about it anymore. The fact you two looked like friends today weirded me out," said Vince, opening the doors to the theater.

"Hey, in my defense, Skylar likes me some odd reason!" shouted Sammi, following Vince.

"In that case, do you want to babysit and teach me to be a dad?" teased Vince, smiling at Sammi rolling her eyes.

"In your dreams," said Sammi, jabbing her elbow in Vince's side.

A hard knock echoed in Sammi's apartment, halting Sammi from draining the pasta she had boiling. She checked the analog clock that hung on her wall, wondering who would stop by out of the blue. After turning off the stove, Sammi opened the door without caution, surprised to see an upset Nikki standing in the hallway. Nikki rose there in the same dark vest and button-down from earlier, eyes tired as always.

"Why are you here? I didn't invite you over," asked Sammi, crossing her arms against her chest. Nikki pushed past Sammi, stomping into the apartment, sitting right down on the small dining table. He looked over the breakfast bar seeing the stem coming from the stove, nodding with approval.

"I thought since you were quiet to me after your smoke with your little ex, I'd drop by. Here to remind you what you got in your bed," said Nikki, leaning back against the chair with one arm resting on the back. Sammi closed her front door, stepping towards Nikki with a great distance.

"Please don't tell me you're jealous of Vince now? I already dealt with enough of that from him," said Sammi, leaning against the wall.

"I don't get jealous. Now, where's my dinner?" sniffed Nikki, wiping at his nose and bouncing his leg fast as he couldn't look Sammi in the eye.

"At your house. Where you keep your heroin," spat Sammi, getting Nikki to look her in the eye, his face going almost pale compared to olive skin. Sammi inhaled deeply, ready to fight with Nikki as her blood began to boil. Nikki stayed silent, trying to think of some bullshit lie to Sammi.

"Who told you that? Vince? You're really going to believe Vince, the guy who cheated on you?" asked Nikki, scowling at Sammi with deep wrinkles in-between his eyebrows.

Sammi shook her head, standing up straight. "Yeah, I am. Because him being sober from drugs means he sees shit when I'm not there. I know you're shooting up again! And I know you're doing some other shit drug with my brother!" yelled Sammi, pointing her finger right at Nikki. Sammi could see the discomfort on Nikki's face, him shifting in his seat, unable to even look unguilty.

"He's lying! I'm not doing it! You don't see me do that shit!" shouted Nikki, standing up to Sammi, getting closer to her face. Sammi stepped back a bit, glaring up hard at Nikki's dark eyes.

"Yeah, when you're here! I don't know what you do when you leave in the middle of the night! Or when you're by yourself in your house! How come we never go there anymore, huh?" demanded Sammi, pushing Nikki in the chest. Nikki stumbled back for a moment, flaring his nostrils from the sight of Sammi.

"Did you tell your little boyfriend about us then? Huh? You had to if you two decided to talk shit about me," muttered Nikki, getting right up close to Sammi, her back slamming against the wall. Sammi felt scared but knew she had to stand her ground in this situation, even if it resulted in something terrible.

"No, I didn't. Only how I flushed your drugs the last time, and you gripped my wrist. Are you going to admit it, or do I have to raid your room again and wait for you to hit me?" said Sammi, inhaling shakingly. Nikki took a few steps back, glaring at Sammi. Nikki then kicked one of the dining chairs, sending it flying across the room, almost breaking it. Sammi jumped in fear, covering her mouth from almost yelping, eyes open wide.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sammi! Why do you give a shit if I'm shooting up!? I'm not offering it to you! You do coke, Ms. College Graduate! So why do you give a fuck?!" yelled Nikki, ready to pull his hair out of his head.

"Because it's dangerous! You can die if you go too far! Why would you throw all of this away for some drug?!" shouted Sammi, staying far away from Nikki. "And when I do coke, I fucking stop for MONTHS, alright?! I don't go on benders like the rest of you,"

"Yeah, because you think you're better than us. Just because we're not some assholes wearing a suit and tie to work with a stupid piece of paper," mumbled Nikki.

"Oh shut up, Nikki. Get that shit out of your head and get the fuck out of my apartment!" ordered Sammi.

Nikki narrowed his eyes at Sammi, walking closer to her only to have Sammi step away from him. "You're sure about that, Samantha?"

"Yes, I am, because you and I are fucking done! Whatever we are, we are done! I'm not dealing with your shit while you spiral out of control," said Sammi. Nikki didn't bother to move from where he stood, seeing if Sammi was only bluffing. "Get out! I want you out! Get the fuck out!" shouted Sammi, moving behind Nikki and pushing towards the door. She didn't restrain herself, pushing him harder and more aggressive as they got to the door. Nikki couldn't stop Sammi, shocked at the small girl's anger. Sammi yanked the door open, pushing Nikki out of her apartment with all her force.

"Sammi wait-" Sammi slammed the door right on Nikki's face, dropping herself to the floor. She let her head fall on her knees, a sob escaping her lips. Sammi felt the same sadness she once felt when discovering Vince cheating on her. She couldn't stop thinking how much of an idiot Sammi was for not paying attention. Sitting on the floor to let her sorrows out was the only thing Sammi wanted to do. She cried out alone like Sammi had been for some time now, almost like a repeated cycle since knowing all of Motley Crue.

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years

Text

I would do it all again

Ride or Die Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Mona and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after the first book.

Summary: After what happened at the parking lot, each member of the crew tries to build a new life, following the “every man for himself” motto. But Annie doesn’t agree with that and tries to pull them back together, especially Mona, who she has been waiting for too many years.

Warnings: none. For now.

Part 2

I would do it all again - Part 1

Six years. It had been six years.

Don’t call me. Don’t write me. Don’t wait for me.

Mona’s voice was still very much alive in Annie’s head, even though she hadn’t listened to it in six fucking years.

Not for lack of trying, of course. She was too damn stubborn to follow Mona’s orders, no matter how hard the convict tried to force her into it. During the trial, Annie would always sit as close as possible, whispering comforting things such as “I’m with you”, “I’m still here, you know” or “Damn you’re lookin’ hot today”. The last one caught a smile from Mona, but the woman was still not answering or even glancing at her… Girlfriend? Annie didn’t know if they got to be that. It didn’t matter, though. It looked like the Lebanese was sticking to her ground. The last thing she said to Annie, after the sentence was decided, was “now you have to forget me”.

Of course, that wasn’t going to happen.

It took a while, but Annie finally found out where they moved Mona to. Muncy – she sighed, hands on the wheel for that very long drive. – Philly, really? Could it be any further?

That was the decision that altered her entire life. She was a smart girl, so smart, in fact, that managed to get into three different universities. Luckily, the University of Pennsylvania was one of them, so moving to Philadelphia wasn’t such a crazy plan anyway. Annie had to figure some things out: where to stay, where to work, how to do things… Eventually, it all settled and there she was, living on campus with four crazy roommates and a pretty good job tutoring high school kids.

Ever since day one, the girl tried really hard to break Mona’s resistance. She visited, called, wrote, sent gifts… But no answer came back. Every time Annie would go on visitation’s day, she had to sit and wait for nothing. Mona never came through the door. Never picked up the phone either, no matter how insistent her trying was. People there soon got familiar with Annie’s face, the naïve young woman the new inmate was ignoring. Guards didn’t like her, but she got to be friends with someone else from the inside: Dominick Ferreira, an Argentine art teacher who had a small project teaching painting and sculping to the inmates. Guards didn’t like him either. They soon became friends, talking about TV Shows while Annie waited for long hours in the empty room.

Six years. Mona never gave up on her attitude.

But the girl knew, nonetheless, that the feeling was still there. She knew the letters were being read, at least. The first four years flew by, and Annie graduated in History and started to work as a teacher at a school nearby the campus.

Until she received terrible news.

“I’m really sorry, Ann…” Dominick put a hand on her shoulder, both alone in the prison’s waiting room. After four years confiding on each other, she felt comfortable enough to hug and sob on his arms. He was around the same age of her father. Well… past father. “Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want me to arrange things for the funeral?”

“No, I need to do that on my own. Thanks. I just…” - she sniffed, cleaning her face for the tenth time that day. – “I just… God, she’s so stubborn! Toby accepts my calls, Ximena writes me every month, but Mona… I just really wanted to talk to her. Once.”

“I can try asking one of the guards to help with that.”

“No, no. She would hate me then. I can’t force it.” – another sniff. – “Did she receive the magazine? And the letter?”

“Yeah, I made sure of it. Like always.” – Dom pinched Annie’s nose. She reminded his niece so much. “And I definitely saw her reading them.”

That’s the system Annie found. If Mona wasn’t going to see or talk to her, then she needed another entrance. Every week, the girl would bring a new edition of Motor Trend magazine and a letter for Dom to deliver, then patiently waited outside, hoping this time Mona would finally accept the visitation. The second part never happened, but the first one seemed to be working. After losing her father, she got even closer to the art teacher. He was the only one nice around there.

“I’ve got good news.” Dominick whispered one day, waiting for the other two officers to leave for coffee before saying anything else. “The FBI stepped in. Apparently, the material you guys gave them helped to bring down another big fish. Jason had a partner in NYPD doing the same thing. So, they had a hearing today and reconsidered Mona’s sentence. If she keeps the good behaviour, it’ll be reduced from fifteen to only eight years, which means she can be out on parole soon enough.”

“Tell me how it works.” Annie answered with a seriously committed look.

That’s how now, after six years apart from each other, she was sitting on the car hood, waiting for them to open the gates. Dominick explained every single rule of parole so many times, Annie probably knew it even better than the parole officer himself. She had a year to prepare things for the release, making sure every single detail was reviewed. But now, looking at that gorgeous tall woman carrying a bag and a scowl on her face, Annie felt like maybe the details wouldn’t matter.

What if she just doesn’t want anything to do with me?

There was only one way to find out.

“Hi, you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Picking you up, duh. You needed a ride.” Annie arched an eyebrow, capturing something in Mona’s face. A shadow of relief? Maybe.

The convict glanced at the car, a criticizing tone on her voice.

“What happened to your car? Does that thing even work?”

“I had to sell it. This one is old, but reliable. And his name’s Harold. Be nice.” She took the bag without waiting for permission, tossing it in the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat. A grumpy Mona sat beside her, mumbling about how “Harold” was a stupid name for a car.

“Where are you going? Drop me at the station. It’s good enough.”

“You can’t leave the state.” She glanced briefly at Mona with the corner of her eyes, hands holding the wheel a little bit stronger.

Even though Annie was trying to focus on the road, she could feel the woman’s dark eyes studying her intensely. After a couple minutes in silence, the driver risked talking again. “We need to solve some stuff first.”

Mona didn’t answer. Her face was unreadable while watching Annie pull over in the parking lot of an old dinner in the middle of nowhere. The girl’s hands still holding the wheel so strongly, it seemed she was about to go on a race.

“Do you still like me?”

Not a single word. Not even a movement.

“Well?” Annie finally let her hands slide to her lap, frustrated by the silence. “It’s a yes or no question, Mon. It’s not that hard.”

“Yes.”

She searched for more hints on Mona’s face, but that was it. One word. No expression. Nothing else.

“Ok.” Annie bit her lower lip, insecure. “Ok then.”

The engine creaked at the turn of the key. The car had barely moved, crossing the road only to park again at an empty and dusty mechanic shop, with no living soul around. “Welcome to your new home, I guess”.

Mona finally had an expression on her face. A mix of confusion and shock, so startled that she only understood what was going on when saw Annie unlock and pull the gates up with a crowbar picked up from the corner. “Drive in!” she asked, signing to the convict with a shy smile.

“What the hell did you do…” Mona jumped on the driver’s seat, driving that old stubborn piece of trash into the shop.

Annie was still trying to lower the gate when heard Mona snap from the car.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND? WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?”

“What?” she jumped again, still not catching the hoop with the crowbar.

“Oh, for god’s sake, gi’me that.” Mona took the crowbar and pulled the gate down with a single movement. When it hit the floor, both of her hands held Annie against it, one of each sider of the girl. That would’ve turned her on, if it wasn’t for the deadly dangerous look on the convict’s face. “Answers. Now.”

“I…” she lost track of it, the proximity making the knees tremble a little. “No one… I don’t… It’s not…”.

“Who’s the boss here?”

“Me?” Annie shook her head, confuse. “Mon, I don’t work for anyone. I mean, for the principal, maybe? I’m a teacher. You know that. You read my letters.”

“Who’s auto shop is this, then? Is it Colt’s? Did he drag you into this?”

The plug finally fell. Suddenly realizing what the snap was about, Annie chuckled. “You idiot, you do care about me, don’t you?”

That took Mona off guarded, but she didn’t retreat, arms still blocking the girl against the gate.

“There’s no boss, Mon. And I haven’t seen Colt ever since what happened that night. This is my auto shop. I bought it last year. We’ll… Ours if you decide to get on board.” Annie risked pulling her closer by the waist, so tempted to kiss that angry face. “There’s no danger here, I promise. We’re safe.”

Oh crap, thought Mona, seconds before throwing the crowbar away so she could dive her hands in Annie’s hair. The kiss that followed was so hungry and careless like it would never stop again. Their hands couldn’t stay still, both eager to remember each other’s curves and sensitive spots. Mona was doing the exact thing she promised herself not to. For six long years, she tried to ignore the visitations, calls, letters, everything that had Annie tagged along. It took all her strength to do it. Eventually, Mona gave in and started to read those damn letters, since it looked like they weren’t gonna stop coming anyway. That made waiting even worse, especially when the convict had decided to leave Annie’s life for good. She was convinced the girl deserved better…

“Look what you do to me.” Mona growled, holding Annie so close they could barely breath. She couldn’t leave. Now that Ann was finally trapped in her arms, there was no backing down. “I was gonna flee, you know?”

“Hate to spoil your plans, babe. But there’s an apartment upstairs waiting for you to settle in.”

Foreheads together, breathing slowly, both started to cool off bit by bit, but Mona’s grip was still tight around the girl’s waist. “I told you to forget me. To live your life. Damn it, Ann. I ignored you for six years, how could you still stick around?”

“Cause’ you were just being stubborn. I knew you were reading my letters.” Her smile was fragile while she was putting on a fight against tears. “And I did live my life. I graduated. Published my monography. Then finished the master’s degree and published the dissertation too. Got a good job. Made friends. Bought a place to live. I did all of it. Waiting for you didn’t stop me from living.”

“You wouldn’t be stuck in Philly if it wasn’t for me. Maybe by now you’d be married to a badass Harvard lawyer, living in Boston and adopting a bird.”

“I’m a cat and dog person.” She twitched her nose, laughing. “I hate lawyers too.”

Mona roller her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Annie got serious suddenly. They needed to talk things through at some point.

“Okay. Listen. I did some changes in my life, yes. For you. But that was MY choice. So, you don’t get to be mad at me, alright? Or feel guilty. Any of it. And if you prefer to leave…” she hesitated, heart pounding at the idea of losing Mona again. “… you can always leave. I only wish you to stay if that’s what you really wanna do. Don’t fool me. Don’t lie. I deserve the truth, at least. We’re clear?”

“Yes.” Mona was serious too. There was a big struggle going on inside her, problems and emotions she lived in prison and that Annie wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t. “I won’t fool you. That much I can promise.”

“Good.” She slid away the embrace, pulling the woman by one of the wrists. “Let me show where you might live if you want to. And then you can decide what to do from here.”

“We.” Mona tangled their fingers together, a long sigh of relief escaping her lungs. “What we do from here.”

#mona x mc #ride or die #choices: stories you play #choices: ride or die #sorry I'm too soft to write ANGST #but there will be trouble eventually #with Toby and Ximena because they deserve the spotlight

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cryoculus · 4 years

Note

More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.” You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

#haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #shiratorizawa #hqscenario #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu spoilers #hq headcanons #hq!! headcanons

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

Text

When You Least Expect It, Part Twelve

Jensen x Musician!Reader

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part twelve has parts from Both POVs; though primarily the reader. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Spotify Playlist: Songs in this chapter - "Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” [youtube link] cover by Kina Grannis

Chapter Summary: An acoustic performance at the Brewery to help publicize Brewfest takes a turn, causing Y/N to make a big change in her future plans.

Chapter Warnings: Language, mild violence, mentions of abuse, anxiety

WC: 10.4K **with lyrics. Lyrics NOT written by me in bold, italic.

Beta’d by @closetspngirl

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online. Tags are open if you want on, or wanna hop off.

Jensen felt the warmth of the sun touch his skin before his eyes opened. He was dreaming and didn’t want it to end, despite how he knew it would feel to stretch and let his body wake up. The images were fading from his mind’s eye, and he could feel the disappointment begin to set in. The dream was too good to let slip away.

He dreamt he was laying in bed with Y/N. They had spent the night making love, talking in whispers and finding ways to make the other feel inexplicably wanted and loved. It was everything he’d needed from her since he first kissed her on New Year’s Eve.

Movement on the bed beside him was the last step in getting him to open his eyes, and when he finally looked to his right, she was there. It wasn’t just a dream after all. Her hair was free of its usual messy bun and was splayed across her pillow. Jensen rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, then leaned forward leaving a soft kiss on her bare shoulder that peeked out from the sheets. Her skin still smelled like suntan lotion and coconut, and he kissed her again.

Jensen slipped his hand beneath the sheets and along the length of her body. Flashes from the night before passed through his mind, and he continued kissing the back of her neck as his fingers explored the lines of her body. His arm slowly wrapped around her stomach and gently pulled her back against him. Y/N was beginning to stir. She elongated her neck and hummed as his lips trailed soft, wanting kisses to her ear.

“Morning,” he rumbled against her ear, just as his hand glided up her abdomen towards her breasts.

“Morning,” she breathed and let herself gently fall back into him.

“Sleep well?”

“No,” she giggled and rolled over, so she could see his face. “I don’t believe much sleep happened.”

“Regrets?” he asked softly, brushing away the hair from her face so he could fully appreciate her (y/c) eyes.

“Only that I waited so long.” She withdrew her gaze and cast them do the small bit of space between them. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I don’t know what I was so scared of.”

“Hey,” he rasped, gently taking her chin and directing her eyes back to his. “Don’t do that. We’re together now, right? That’s what matters. Not how long it took to get here, just that we got here.”

“Are we? Together, I mean?”

“It’s what I want. There’s no one else for me, Y/N.” Jensen was nervous, and even she could hear the barely-there quiver in his voice when he spoke her name.

Y/N propped herself up and leaned over, hovering above him now, her hair falling down and tickling his cheeks. “You sure you’re up for that? I can be a handful.”

“Good thing I got two hands,” he teased, the crinkles around his eyes deep and the peek-a-boo dimples formed at either side of his wide smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes and hung her head to his chest. “I hate you,” she laughed and kissed him there. “So much.”

“I guess then, it’s also a good thing that you love me, too. Or I’d be in trouble.”

“Nope, I take it back,” she said, trying to be serious and pulling away from him. “I take it all back. You’re insufferable, Jensen. What was I thinking?”

Jensen grabbed her and turned quickly, making Y/N land on her back as he straddled her legs, pinning her down and dove his mouth to her neck. In less than a second, he was lavishing her neck with attention as her body began to slowly move beneath him.

“See, you don’t play fair, either,” she mewed, rolling her neck to the side so he could have more of her.

“Never said I did,” he mumbled lowly. “Now what were you saying about taking it back…” his voice was muffled in the crook of her neck, and he felt himself growing hard again at simply the thought of being with her.

From somewhere in the tangle of clothes on the floor, a cell phone began ringing. Jensen growled and picked his head up from her neck.

“Dammit.” He rolled off her and got up from the bed to locate the intrusion.

Y/N sat up and watched as he moved around the room, completely naked. “I could get used to this view, ya know.”

He stopped looking for a moment and stared at her with that familiar deadpan gaze. “Seriously? Am I just a good time to you?”

“And then some…” she wiggled her eyebrows and winked playfully, breaking his expression and making him laugh. “Screw the phone, come back to bed.”

“I will. But I know this is Jared. I gotta--” he found his shorts from the night before and retrieved the phone from the pocket. “Hey,” he said swiping up to answer the call. “What’s up?”

“Dude, what the hell? Where did you disappear too?”

“Oh.. yeah. Sorry. Something came up and, uhhh…” Jensen stammered, unsure of how to proceed with telling his best friend he finally got to spend the night with the woman he loved while she was right there in the room.

“Something? Sex? Was it sex, Jensen?” Jared asked, and Jensen could hear the underlying tone of playful accusation.

“Maybe.”

“I kinda figured,” Jared laughed. “No way you’d leave before the pig roast was ready unless Y/N was involved. You left a ton of shit behind on the boat and took off with one of the rentals. You must have been seriously distracted.”

“Dude,” Jensen chuckled and turned away from her to walk towards the bathroom. “You have no idea.”

“Alright Romeo, I don’t need details. Anyway… get your shit together and be ready in two hours. I’m swinging by to grab you so we can head to the airport. I had the valet company bring your truck back and take the rental with them. Just remember to bring the spare keys so I can drop them off, ok?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem… Wait. Two hours? I thought we didn’t go back ‘til later?”

“Change of plans, brother. Maybe if you didn’t have your head buried elsewhere you would have seen the five text messages I sent you about it this morning.”

“I hate you,” Jensen groaned and pulled the phone away to see all his missed notifications. “Fine, two hours. I’ll be ready.”

“Good. And, please shower. I don’t want to sit on a six-hour trip to Vancouver while you smell like sex.”

“Goodbye, Jared.” Jensen hung up the phone and tossed it back on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

“Jared busting your chops?” she asked as Jensen crawled back into bed.

“When isn’t he?” He laid back down and Y/N immediately laid beside him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. Jensen wrapped an arm around her and drew her closer. “I do have to get ready to go soon though. And while the last thing I want to do is spoil this morning… we gotta talk about you staying here. Y/N, please, reconsider--”

“I’ll stay,” she said softly, then turned her face up to his. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time. I was so scared of staying because we hadn’t slept together. Then I panicked and worried about what it would mean if we did…”

“Thank God,” he chuckled softly, running his free hand over his face and sighing deeply. “I didn’t want to fight, but I was prepared to come out swingin’ if it meant you’d agree to just stay here.”

“Here is good. I’ll stay through the festival and then we can figure out what comes next. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said and left a loving kiss on her head. “One more question and then I promise, I’ll let it go.”

“Oh boy… what?”

“What are the chances you changed your mind about San Diego, too?”

It was Y/N’s turn to sigh. “Jay… I can’t. In fact, I have to meet with Robbie at some point today or tomorrow about the publicity performance at the brewery this week. I think it's Thursday, which is your first day out there, right? I have to be at the brewery. Rob and Bri are singing. I am filming, mingling, promoting…”

“You work too much.”

“Look who’s talking…”

They held each other’s gaze stubbornly for a moment and Jensen finally relented. “Okay, okay. You made your point. But, I reserve the right to whisk you away at some point and you can’t say no. Deal?”

“I’ll take that deal,” she said and pushed herself up on the bed, to full sitting position.

“Whoa, no, wait. Where are you going?”

“To shower. Then I’ll go make you breakfast so you can shower and be ready for Jared.”

“First off, shower together, it conserves water. Secondly, you’re gonna cook? For me? Can you cook?”

“Yes, I can cook. Pretty damn well, actually. Also, not showering with you, because we’ll never get out of there and you have to leave soon.”

“We could forget the breakfast, and just go shower. Huh? Right? Way better plan,” Jensen said, trying to pull her back to lay down.

“Easy, Hollywood,” she purred and let him draw her back in. “I promise you, we will have our chance to make up for all the nights we weren’t together.”

“Swear?” he asked, a touch of some distant concern twinkled in his eyes, but she dismissed it.

Nodding softly, she leaned in and kissed him delicately on the lips. “Scout’s honor.”

An hour later, Y/N was in the kitchen, scrambling up some eggs and toast, with a fresh pot of coffee waiting for Jensen when he emerged from his shower. When he entered the room he was struck by the differing aromas, shocked at how fragrant the kitchen had become.

“Well aren’t you just full of surprises,” Jensen said as he dropped his duffle bag to the floor and tossed the keys on the counter. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Eggs with peppers and onions, rye toast and there’s fresh coffee over there for you,” Y/N replied without turning from the stove.

Jensen went to go get a mug for his coffee but stopped just a moment to watch her move around the kitchen and admire how good she looked. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, sleeves rolled up and only loosely buttoned; her hair damp from the shower and her face completely natural. Fighting the urge to distract her from cooking, he continued on with getting his coffee and asked if she wanted a cup as well.

“Yes, please. Give me all the coffee,” she laughed then flashed him a rueful smile over her shoulder. “Someone kept me up late last night.”

“Well, not much going on today, right? Maybe you can take a day to just sleep, relax. Catch up on some Netflix?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged and turned off the heat on the eggs, plated them, along with the toast and slid it across the counter. “Your breakfast, sir.”

“Whoa.” Jensen pulled the plate closer and grabbed the fork beside it, taking a bite of the eggs and closing his eyes. “Mmmm…” he hummed and swallowed the food. “Baby, these are good.”

“Baby, hm? That’s new.” Y/N mused and turned away, casually strolling to the refrigerator to get the cream for her coffee.

“Don’t like that one?” Jensen asked, taking another bite of his eggs.

“Didn’t say that, just… different.”

Jensen’s face slipped into a sly, teasing grin as he leaned forward on his elbows on the counter. “I’ll call you whatever you want me to--”

“Oh God, don’t say it!” Y/N brought her hand to her face in resignation of what she knew was coming.

“--as long as I can call you mine,” Jensen continued, giving her a big, exaggerated wink.

“You are so insufferable…” she poured the cream in her coffee and playfully rolled her eyes. Y/N didn’t get a chance to stir it before Jensen was approaching her, hands on her hips and walking her back to the refrigerator.

“I’m the fucking worst,” he rasped and pulled her hips closer to him, before bending down and kissing her.

Y/N slipped her arms up around his neck and kissed him back with purpose. Jensen’s hands slid from her hips, around to her ass and gently lifted her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her, without breaking their kiss, to the living room and fell backward onto the couch so he was sitting and she was straddling his lap. His kiss deepened on her and through muffled smacks of lips and short breaths of air, she pulled back just enough to speak

“Your breakfast is getting cold,” she laughed and kissed him again.

“Don’t care.” His fingers dug deeper into her thighs.

She giggled at the feeling of his fingertips ghosting her skin up and under the shirt she wore. “Jared will be here soon.”

“Don’t care. He can wait,” he mumbled, then resumed the business at hand. His hands found their way to her breasts and she couldn’t resist the soft moan that fell from her lips.

“Jay…” she breathed, fighting the urge to take it further. “Unfair…”

“Ok, ok…” he relented and allowed Y/N to sit back as he slowly and regrettably pulled his hands from her shirt. “I’m sorry. It’s just… now that we are here,” he gestured vaguely at their current position, “I just wanna stay here. Hard to walk away from this when it's all I’ve wanted for a really long time now.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and a small, satisfied smirk pulled up the corner of her mouth. “How long?”

Jensen considered it for a moment, running his palms roughly, yet slowly up and down her bare thighs. “Since before New Years, at least. You’re hard to shake, you know.”

She wanted to come back with some smart ass quip, but the way he was looking at her at that moment, she couldn’t. He was wearing too much emotion in that expression for her to be anything other than genuine.

“Thank you for being patient with me, Jay. For giving me the time to be brave enough to trust someone again.”

Y/N softly caressed his cheek, giving him one last longing kiss on the lips before climbing off his lap. She held out her hand for him to take, and helped pull him up off the couch.

“Now, please go finish your breakfast that I slaved over. Worked my fingers to the bone…” she whined playfully, unable to hold back the impish smile as he rolled his eyes at her.

“Now who’s insufferable?”

“Oh me! Is it me?” she asked sarcastically, followed by a big smile.

Jensen ignored her and went back to his breakfast, which was still warm and delicious. He finished it quickly, along with his coffee, and was about to help Y/N start to clean up when they heard a knock at the front door, then the distinct creak of it opening and Jared’s voice echoed through the entryway,

“Hello? Everybody decent?!”

“No! I’m cooking naked in the kitchen. Want some eggs?” she called back, making Jensen snicker and Jared’s face flushed red as he rounded the corner and came into the room.

“Hilarious,” Jared replied, when he saw her wearing only the shirt, he quickly looked away and stammered. “Ho--how’s it going Y/N?”

“Great, thanks,” she chuckled. “And now that you’re here, I should probably go get dressed for real before you whisk him away. Be right back.”

Y/N paused as she went by Jensen and kissed him, their gazes locked with the other and let it linger for a moment before she continued on. Once she was gone upstairs, Jared came fully into the kitchen and grabbed a mug, fixing himself a cup of coffee. He sipped at the hot, dark brew, carefully eyeing his best friend over the lip of the mug.

“So?”

“So, what?” Jensen replied, feigning ignorance.

“This is for real now?” Jared asked and motioned towards the stairs with his chin. “You and Y/N. No more pinning? No more excuses? You're finally together?”

Jensen was thoughtful for a moment as he reflected on the morning he spent in bed with her. “Yeah, we are,” he said, unable to hide his satisfied grin.

“I’m happy for you, man. Really. I’m glad things are working out. After Dee, then that break-in at Y/N’s place, I thought maybe you would throw in the towel. Too much trouble and all that.”

“Dude, I couldn’t if I wanted too. I am completely, and utterly hooked on this girl, and I wouldn’t care what it took to get to where we are.”

“Damn, Jay. I knew you had a thing for her, but I didn’t realize it went that deep. I’m honestly happy for you both. I like Y/N. She’s good for you.”

“She is. I think we’re good for each other. Just feels good to finally know, for sure, that she’s just as invested as I am.”

“And you’re sure of that?” Jared asked cautiously, not wanting to rile Jensen up, but he needed to make sure his friend was certain he was giving his heart to someone who would treat it right this time.

“Yeah, Jar. I’m sure.”

Jared was thoughtful for a moment and shrugged. “Then I’m over the moon for you.” He raised his coffee cup in a salute and took a long sip.

A moment later, Y/N came bouncing down the steps, fully dressed in a pair of ripped jean shorts, her favorite Zeppelin t-shirt and a pair of black converse. Her hair was piled on her head in her signature messy bun, and though very little effort was put into her appearance, Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off her. Jared watched Jensen watching her, and it struck him just how deep his best friend had really fallen.

“So, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we gotta get going, Jay,” Jared said, leaving the mug in the sink and passing an apologetic smile to Y/N.

Jensen checked his watch and sighed. “Shit, yeah, I guess we do.”

“I’ll grab your bag and take it out. Just don’t take forever saying goodbye to your girlfriend, okay?” He rolled his eyes sarcastically, emphasizing a disgusted sigh as he picked up Jensen’s bag, then threw Y/N a little wink.

“Love you too, Jared,” she called after him as he exited through the front door. Y/N looked back to Jensen as she slowly approached him, fortifying herself to say goodbye. Wanting to keep it light, she smiled and chuckled. “Girlfriend, huh? Does that mean I have the best friend’s approval?”

“It does,” he grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You alright with that? Girlfriend?”

“More than okay. All joking aside, somehow knowing where things stand with us, makes your leaving a little easier.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Still going to miss you like crazy, but I am very much looking forward to when you come home again. Which is when, by the way?”

Jensen considered her question and scrunched his face in disappointment. “Three weeks. At least.”

“Wow, okay. Three weeks it is. Call me when you get in, later?”

“Of course,” he said and leaned in for a kiss and just before their lips touched, from outside, the car horn blew.

“I guess that’s your cue,” she teased and kissed him again quickly. “Ok, go before I don’t let you leave.” She wiggled from his grasp and pushed him towards the door.

“Wait,” he said, turning and planting his feet. “Promise me you will be careful, cautious and not go anywhere alone at night. And! Before you object… remember you love me and you want to make me happy? Doing this will make me happy.”

Y/N couldn’t resist his request. “Whatever you want, Hollywood. I promise it.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll call you later,” he said and opened the front door, feeling the blast of the late morning heat. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Jay,” she replied, trying to sound casual but actually vibrating inside from the open admission of feelings.

She stood at the door and waved to Jared as Jensen made his way to the car and slowly got in. As they drove away, Y/N cautiously looked around outside to see if anyone was watching, then closed the door and went to clean up the kitchen.

Another blazing hot July day in Texas, but Y/N barely registered the heat as she parked and exited Jensen’s truck in the parking lot of Cuppa. Unknowingly having picked the same place Jensen met Dee the month before, Y/N ventured inside to find Bri waiting for her at a corner table.

“What? Not up for an outside seat?” Y/N teased as she approached the table and opened her arms to embrace a smiling Briana.

“Are you insane? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, lady. This is an inside kinda day. I will not waste the blessing of air conditioning just for a pretty view.” Bri shook her head and went to embrace Y/N. “Now sit your ass down and start talking. You have some nerve, you know.”

Y/N’s head snapped up in surprise, her finger pointing to her chest. “Me? What did I do?”

“It’s what you didn’t do! You disappear like a fart in the wind from Jared’s party, and I don’t hear boo from you until late last night confirming lunch today! What happened, where did you go? I need details.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes lowering to the table and her cheeks warm with the memories of leaving the party with Jensen. “That.”

“‘Ooohh, that,’ she says… I swear to God, Y/N. You best start talkin’.” Briana flashed her an admonishing expression. Y/N knew when Bri wore her serious face she better start talking and not keep her in suspense any longer.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry. I got wrapped up in things and just--” she trailed off, and felt her expression softened Bri had been there since the start of things with Jensen and she realized how badly she really did want to tell someone about what finally happened between them. “After the bonfire, I told him I loved him and asked him to take me home,” she said, letting it come tumbling out in one long breath

“You did!?” Bri’s whole face ignited in a smile, her hands clasped in front of her face, covering her mouth to try and hold back her excitement. “For reals?”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed heartily, genuinely touched by Bri’s reaction. “Yes. I told him and we’re together now, for reals.”

Bri jumped up from her seat and pounced on Y/N, squeezing her excitedly and releasing her just as quickly than sitting back down. She exhaled a deep breath and then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, catching Y/N’s gaze and smiling softly.

“How was it? It was good, wasn’t it?”

“Bri!” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

“No. No. You can’t do that. Because you have experienced something that we mere mortals only fantasize about and as one of your closest friends, I demand at least a few details.”

“Ok, fine. I don’t even know where to start… it was amazing. From beginning to end. He’s sweet and generous. And--”

“Aw, talking about me again?” Robbie crooned sweetly, as he approached the table. “It’s okay, keep talking. I love to hear the things you say about me when I’m not around.” Y/N and Bri couldn’t hold back their laughter, as Robbie took a place at the table. “What? I say something funny?”

“No, Robbie, we weren’t talking about you… but you know you’re all those things too, puddin’,” Bri teased him and pinched his beard between her fingers. “Glad you could join us.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, slightly exasperated and sweaty from the day. “Wasn’t sure if I could or not. In fact, the thing on Thursday, I may have to back out. Something you could handle on your own if you needed too, Bri?”

“I mean, yeah, but I wouldn’t have too. Y/N can join me. Right? Would you be down for that?”

“Well, I--”

Y/N was cut off by the server coming to the table and taking their order. Once she collected everyone’s choices and went back towards the kitchen, Y/N continued.

“I was planning on doing a lot of the PR stuff. Filming, live streams, talking to people about Brewfest. There are going to be a few people there with connections to big-name businesses here in Austin. I was really hoping to get a chance to pitch some things to them.”

“Those are the ones we need to take a few more of these sponsorships,” Robbie added. “But, we can figure this all out later. Just know, I may have to bail and head to San Diego.”

“Ok, fair enough. For now, I’ll bank on you being at the brewery by seven on Thursday, performance to start around eight-ish?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that--”

“Performance? What performance?”

A voice—a familiar voice—cut through the ambient noise of the room and Y/N immediately felt a tight coil of white-hot anger at the intrusion. She didn’t even have to look up to know that Dee was standing there, somewhere on the outskirts of the table between herself and Briana. Robbie was the first to look up and actually see her face. Y/N knew just by the change in his expression that she was right.

“Dee, hey,” Robbie said, followed quickly by a nervous chuckle. “What brings you here?”

“I’ve been filming in Austin for the last month or so. I come here a lot when I just need a break, you know? Festival planning I take it? Brianna, haven’t seen you in forever, how are you?”

“Oh, peachy,” Bri replied with a quick glance her way. “Yourself?”

“I’ve been busy, but otherwise great. So what’s this about a performance?”

“Thursday at the brewery, we’re hosting an acoustic show to drum up interest in the festival.”

“Oh, fun!” she exclaimed, the feigned excitement in her voice nulled out by expression that lived on her face. The tension that surrounded the small corner table was palpable. Bri could see Y/N trying not to have a reaction, and that Dee was purposely lingering in order to try and stir up trouble.

“Y/N,” Dee said finally, turning her attention to the quietest member of the group. “How are you?”

Y/N didn’t answer at first. Instead, she twisted slightly in her seat so she was looking up at Dee and smiled. “I’m great. Now that you’ve made the rounds, I think it’s best if you keep moving.”

Dee sighed heavily as if Y/N’s statement bore the weight of the world. “If this is about that phone call, I’m sorry, okay? I should never have done that--” Dee paused when she saw Y/N laugh and stand up from her seat.

“I couldn’t care less about your unbelievably childish behavior, Dee. I actually find that quite amusing. I just can’t seem to breathe when you’re around. Something about you is so toxic, it poisons the air wherever you are. So, please. For the entire cafe’s sake, keep moving...” The last two words were soft enough that only Dee could hear, followed by a set of intense, narrowed (y/c) eyes.

Dee swallowed thickly, but the rest of her expression felt cold and somewhat calculated. She glanced at Bri and Robbie, who just sat staring at her tentatively, unsure of how she would respond.

“Well, that felt unnecessary. I just wanted to say hello. No reason to get nasty and cause a scene,” Dee scoffed, giving Y/N a long look of silent accusations. “I honest-to-God don’t understand what Jensen sees in you.” She glanced around Y/N to address Bri and Robbie. “Good luck at the festival. Something tells me you’re gonna need it.”

Dee turned quickly on her heel and left the café in a huff. When she was no longer in sight, Y/N looked at Bri and Robbie and expelled the breath she had been holding.

“Well, that was fun,” Y/N said as she fell into her chair with an exasperated huff.

“Way to stand your ground, honey,” Bri chuckled. “That woman’s got a lot of nerve just stoppin’ by for a chat. After what she did?” Bri pursed her lips together, revealing her crater-like dimples and slowly shook her head. “Lots of damn, nerve.”

“I don’t know that she had anything to do with the break-in, Bri. Jensen brought her up only because of the lipstick. They’ve found nothing to indicate she was in the house. I just think she’s a troublemaker and phony as hell. I wasn’t kidding about the toxic thing. She literally just sucks the air out of the room.”

“She didn’t used to be like this though,” Robbie said, pausing when the waitress arrived and placed down everyone’s drink order. “I’ve known Dee for a lot of years. She wasn’t always this… dramatic and petty.”

“Well, I guess losing a good man on purpose will do that to you,” Bri quipped as she fixed her coffee to her liking. “She did that on purpose, by the way. Just standing here, asking how you are. She wanted to goad you.”

“I know,” Y/N said and ran her hand through her hair, sitting back in her seat and sighing. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just… tired. Why can’t he and I be happy without these lunatics coming out of the woodwork to spoil everything?”

“Wait, what?” Robbie interrupted and leaned forward, his face beaming under a wide smile. “What’s this ‘he and I be happy’ bit? Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes! They’re together!” Bri giggled and clapped her hands together, the tension from Dee’s appearance quickly dissipating into the heat of the day. “That’s what we were talking about when you got here.”

“So, it worked?” Robbie asked Bri, catching Y/N’s attention and making her sit up straighter in her chair.

Y/N cleared her throat to interrupt their quiet celebration. “I’m sorry, what now? Explain yourself, Robert.”

“Hmmm?” he replied disingenuously. “What’s that now?”

“Don’t be cute. What worked?”

“I’m always cute. Can’t help it. It’s the beard.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and inhaled slowly trying to contain her mild frustrations, then turned to Briana. “Briana? Care to explain?”

Then it hit her; the bonfire. She remembered how calculated it felt that the only open seat had been next to Robbie and Jensen was so perfectly placed right across the flames of the fire. “You set us up at the bonfire. You wanted me to sing, and that’s why you said what you said when you handed me the guitar.”

“Did I say something,” Rob asked, feigning ignorance. “Don’t even remember… that...” he shrugged and trailed off.

“Look, something had to push you to take that last step. Really, what did we do, but make sure you sat in a place where you could really look at each other. Cause you didn’t, ya know. You’d look at him and he’d look away and vice versa. It was exhausting. The best part, it all worked out.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, giving them both a grateful smile. “I’m happy to know that you guys have our backs.”

“Always, honey,” Bri said and covered Y/N’s hand with her own and gave it a squeeze.

After the revealing news and sprinkling of vague details, Rob and Briana shifted the conversation to the songs they could play at the brewery, while Y/N made notes on her phone. As she was typing in a list of items she wanted to bring on that upcoming Thursday night, her phone began to vibrate and the notification popped up that she had a new text from Jensen.

>>Whatcha doing?

<<Having coffee with Rob and Bri.

>>Robbie behaving? Keeping his hands to himself?

<<He’s a perfect gentleman.

>>Good. You have plans tonight?

<<Why, gonna surprise me again?

>>God, I wish. No, wanted to know if you were free to FaceTime later. I miss you.

<<Name the time. I’m there.

>>9? We should be done by then.

<<I’ll be waiting…

>>Naked, I hope.

<<Perv.

“Uhhh, Y/N?” Rob asked and waved his hand in front of her face. “You still here?”

“Oh, sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “One sec.”

<<Gotta run. Robbie’s getting jealous.

>>Don’t let him rope you in with those big blue eyes. Stay strong, Trix.

Y/N tucked her phone away and felt completely content and at ease again. The earlier, brief encounter with Dee couldn’t even damper the absolute high she felt like she was riding. She was working with two amazingly talented people who she also called friends, had a man that loved her and had even found a new city that she was falling in love with and ready to call a permanent home. In that moment, life couldn’t get much better and for a minute she completely forgot about the biggest wild card of them all… Nathan Fowler.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Y/N groaned and left the hand holding the phone slip from her ear. She took three deep breaths and brought it back up to hear Robbie talking in mid-sentence.

“...really sorry, Y/N. I tried to get out of it, but I gotta go.”

“Its okay Rob, really. I’ll figure it out. I know a few guys that will be working tonight that could do the live stream stuff if I end up playing with Bri. But let me call a few of the local musicians playing the festival. They might be able to come in, and--”

“Y/N… stop. Listen to me. YOU need to get up there. The local Austin bands are fantastic, I mean them no disrespect. But this festival is more yours now, than any of ours. You deserve to get up there, promote the hell out of it, then show those people that the person behind the scenes is just as talented as the ones they will see perform over those three days. Alright?”

Y/N was quiet. Normally, she could combat these bursts of praise from Robbie with a sarcastic quip, but right then, she didn’t have it in her. Instead, she felt nervous. The last time she really performed for a crowd had been at the convention in Chicago, and having the whole band, plus Briana on stage helped quell any nerves that cropped up. The idea of just her and a guitar, in a fully booked, standing room only venue… it was a bit too much right then.

“What--what if I can’t?” she asked, her nerves stripping down her voice to a mere whisper.

“Are you being serious right now? Ok, look. Nerves, they suck. I get it. I feel like I wanna throw up every time I walk out onto a stage; especially at the conventions. But I promise you, Y/N, you got this. Bri is gonna be there, and you two, together… unstoppable.”

Y/N expelled a nervous breath and nodded to herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just… it’s been a long week and it’s going to be a long night.”

“Throw out the setlist, play whatever you guys want. I promise to check in when I can, okay?”

“Aye aye, captain,” she teased.

“Go out there and kill it, I know you will. Talk soon.”

“Bye, Robbie,” she said and felt a small smile.

Talking to Robbie was what she imagined it would be like if she had a real relationship with her big brother. Dave was never going to be supportive, kind, or even give a rat’s ass about her life; but what she had missed out on with him, she found in Robbie. Much the way she had found a new life-long best friend in Briana, and possibly the love of her life, in Jensen. With that kind of love and support around her, Y/N believed that maybe she could pull it off. All of it.

By the time evening rolled around, she felt the nerves about the performance bouncing between false confidence and utter terror. All she could do was keep a straight face, and try not to let the overwhelming fear of screwing up take over. Briana had spent the day with her, picking out clothes, talking about songs, practicing some harmonies and just trying to keep her focused on the task at hand. Y/N was grateful to have her by her side; especially since Jensen wrapped filming and was in transit to San Diego, making him basically unreachable.

They arrived at the brewery and were surprised to see the low rise stage already decked out with stools, guitars, mics, and the amps they would need for the show.

“Holy crap,” Y/N mumbled as she walked into the vast space. “Someone is on their game today.”

“Hey, Y/N, Briana,” a deep voice spoke up from behind them. “Hope that’s okay for you guys.��

Y/N turned around and recognized Paolo, one of the brewmasters as the owner of the voice. “You got this all done for us?” she asked.

“Yeah, hope that was okay. If there’s anything else you need--”

“No, this is perfect,” she smiled. “Thank you, Paolo.”

“My pleasure. Bossman says, whatever you need, I am to comply.”

Y/N chuckled softly and dropped her oversized backpack onto the floor near the stage. “Well, I will be sure to tell the boss man that you were nothing but helpful.”

“Anything else you need?”

Y/N looked at Bri, who seemed to understand the question she was asking with her silence. She gave a nod and Y/N turned to the dark-haired man, waiting for a response.

“Actually, how do you feel about live streaming?”

“I feel great about it,” he laughed. “My girlfriend is always doing them with her makeup tutorials. Sometimes I hold the phone for her.” He shrugged, though it was obvious by his smug grin he was rather proud of himself for that.

“Fantastic!” Y/N exclaimed and went into her duffle and pulled out the spare device she used for just such an occasion. “I am going to do a few posts of Bri, the stage, the brewery, and then I’ll pass it to you--”

“I can handle that. You’re singing too, right? So, you should be in the pictures and videos. The brewery is well staffed tonight, so they won’t miss me. I can be your personal cameraman.” Paolo was near beaming, and Y/N didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t necessary.

“Ok, sure, that would be awesome. Thanks again, Paolo. I promise to let Jensen know just how helpful you’ve been.”

Paolo gave a slight bow of his head, and when he looked up again, Y/N was touched by how big his smile was. She’d only met him a few times before when she had visited the brewery with Jensen to work on some festival business. But the way he jumped into action that night really endeared him to her and made her feel slightly less nervous that everything would go off without a hitch.

Around ten minutes after eight that evening, the entire tasting room at the brewery was jam-packed to capacity. The patio doors were open, so the people could wander in and out of the building, and be able to hear the music no matter where they were.

Y/N and Bri were ready to take the stage, but Paolo first insisted on giving them a proper introduction. When he got the room’s attention, he cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone--a little too close at first--but then with a wide smile, called for them to come out on stage. The room, full of locals and fans of Supernatural, broke into a loud bout of applause, shouts, and whistles as they walked out onto the stage.

Y/N followed Briana up, and she felt the swell of nerves making her start to sweat. Keeping her eyes straight ahead and fixed on Bri, she was in awe at how effortlessly her friend was able to step up and immediately command the attention of the room. Bri gave her a side-eyed glance, and when she saw that Y/N had gone slightly pale, she took the initiative, got on the microphone and began her dialogue with the audience.

They fell under Briana’s spell immediately and she barely had to say a word. As she spoke to the audience, engaging them in conversation about the festival and all the ways it was going to benefit the city of Austin, Y/N’s hand trembled as she picked up the guitar. She sat on the stool, positioned it on her lap and wondered if she would even be able to strum and pick at it like she needed too. The agreed upon setlist wasn’t complicated, and the longer that Briana continued to talk to them about the event, the more her anxiety over performing began to wane and she felt her confidence returning.

Y/N cradled the neck of the guitar; the weight of it comforting and familiar. It wasn’t her guitar, not by any stretch, and the turn of emotion that ignited in her gut at the stark reminder of its absence normally would have been enough to make her seek out the closest corner to sit in and cry. She couldn’t do that, though. Y/N dug deep and remembered what was at stake and did her best to focus on that instead of what she lost.

Briana finished her introduction and turned her attention to Y/N.

“And all of this, ALL of it is thanks to this one-woman wrecking ball, [Y/F/N L/N]! She took the original vision of what this could be and created something none of us could even imagine. On top of all that, she’s one of the most talented musicians I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with! I couldn’t be more excited to share the stage with her tonight, so you can revel in the magic of her music right along with me!”

A boisterous round of applause from the audience made Y/N flush warm from a mild case of embarrassment. She flashed Bri a rueful smile and raised a hand to wave at the crowd. In order to avoid having to speak, Y/N just began strumming the guitar and as soon as Briana took the hint that it was time to start singing, she found the melody of the first song on their list.

As the set played on, Briana sang a mix of covers spanning a varied mix of tempos and genres. The crowd was attentive and engaged, and even Y/N felt calmed by the entire vibe of the evening. Every so often she would look up and notice Paolo in the corner, the camera fixed on the stage. Everything was falling into place just as she had hoped, but when the song ended, Briana turned her attention to Y/N instead of to the audience and it threw her for a bit of a loop.

“I think it’s time that my friend here showed off her pipes! What do you guys say?!”

Despite the rousing response, Y/N couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of her own heart. Where the nerves were coming from, she couldn’t understand entirely; it wasn’t like she had never sung in front of a crowd before. There was something about that night though, that made her anxious about opening her mouth to sing.

Y/N glanced up at Briana, who was watching her closely. Bri could see the bundle of nerves that lived in her friend’s brow but gave her a wide smile and a slight nod of encouragement.

“Come on, Y/N… one song for the lovely people! I know you have something special in there to share with them!”

Y/N looked up and scanned the crowd, most of the faces looking back were now shadowed by the dim lighting of the room. But off in the corner, there stood Paolo, the camera pointed right at her and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if maybe Jensen was watching the live stream.

The thought of him--the very simple thought of his smile--caused this slow wash of calm to suddenly flow through her. She gave Bri a little nod and readjusted the guitar on her lap so she could lean in closer to the microphone. Y/N didn’t speak; no need to address the crowd on this one. This song wasn’t for them, it was for him, and she hoped like hell that he would see it.

As her fingers found the frets, and she began to strum, she went through the first few chords of “Can’t Help Falling in Love”. She kept the tempo of the guitar slow and dreamy. With Jensen’s face on her mind, she felt a small smile caress her lips as she began to sing directly to him, some thousand miles away.

The entire room fell silent as they watched her perform.

“Wise men say only fools rush in, But I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows, Surely to the sea Darling so it goes Some things are meant to be....”

Letting the reverberations from the guitar fade out, her hands falling softly from the frets and the strings. Y/N closed her eyes and felt a rush of emotion so strong that she needed a beat to compose herself. When she continued singing, there was no music, just the sound of her voice; airy, thoughtful, and so obviously in love...

“So take my hand, Take my whole life too…”

She began to strum again, finishing the song with the soft melody of the guitar.

“For I can’t help falling in love with you. For I can’t help… falling in love with you…”

When it faded to an end, she opened her eyes to a crowd absolutely mesmerized and enamored with the ethereal magic they just bore witness to. Even Bri, completely moved to a few stray tears, couldn’t resist the urge to get up from her stool, and drape herself over Y/N’s shoulder in a dramatic embrace for a brief moment.

“I told you this woman was magic!” she said into the mic when she returned to her stool. “The first time I met her, she was seated at a piano, and just plucked a song out of the air to play. We just had such a blast that night. It was the best damn ‘how-do-you-do” I’ve ever had!”

Y/N shook her head and chuckled softly as she cast her eyes back to the guitar and strummed it absently until her nerves were back under control. When she lifted them up again, she searched the faces in the crowd only to see beaming smiles and hear excited chatter. Paolo was using the camera to scan the crowd as well, and Y/N could see him replying to messages in lightning-fast fashion. As she brought her eyes back to Briana on the stage next to her, off in the opposite corner of where Paolo was, she thought she caught sight of a familiar face.

Her heart froze. There in the crowd, a head stuck out over the rest and if she hadn’t blinked a few times quickly to refresh her vision, she would have sworn she saw Nathan’s face among the guests. But, when she tried to find him, there was no one there.

It’s just nerves, she told herself as Briana continued to wax poetic about music and back around to the festival. Y/N tried to remain engaged, but her hackles were up now, despite the residual rush of the song she just sang.

“You, my magical musical unicorn, were amazing tonight!” Bri exclaimed as she joined Y/N in the break room at the back of the brewery. She disappeared almost immediately after the performance to change out of the tight jeans and fringed tank top she wore. Now wearing her most comfortable sweat shorts and Louden Swain T-shirt, she leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder along with one arm and yawned wide.

“It’s late, ready to go?” Y/N asked with a laugh as Bri exaggerated the yawn with a loud sigh afterward. “Might be past your bedtime ma’am.”

“Oh, it’s way past my bedtime. Yes, I am absolutely ready. Do you have everything?” she asked lifting her head from Y/N’s shoulder and looking around the break room.

“I think so,” she answered and lifted an armful of files she needed to bring back to Jensen’s house, before slinging the backpack over her shoulder. Let me run this stuff out to the truck. You go grab Paolo and see if he can carry out those cases of beer. I wanted to haul a few back to the house.”

“Absolutely,” Bri said and went off to find their cameraman of the night and ask for his help one last time.

Y/N gathered the rest of her things and as she made her way towards the rear exit of the brewery, she felt her phone vibrate from her pocket. She juggled a few files and reached in to retrieve it, noticing three new texts from Jensen.

>>How’s it going tonight? Everything set up?

>>Ohhhh live stream! Who’s taping? Is Paolo helping?

>>JFC Trix… you’re killing me. Just caught the live feed and I’m speechless… God I wish I were there.

Y/N felt her heart pounding, and a smile swelled across her lips at knowing he saw her sing. She was in the middle of a reply as she reached the parking lot. With her thoughts on Jensen and her eyes on the phone, she didn’t see the shadowy figure step out from the darkened corner of the parking lot and start walking towards her.

Just before she reached the truck, she felt it; a large, looming presence stretched out tall before her. Y/N looked up from the phone and jumped when she saw him there. The man’s face was still cloaked in darkness from the baseball cap he wore, but she knew who it was nonetheless. It hadn’t just been nerves earlier in the night, she did see his face in the crowd after all.

“Hey, Y/N,” Nathan said, his tone calm and yet still unnerving to her ears.

Y/N completely froze; bolts of panic binding her feet to the ground. “N--Nathan? Why are you here?”

“Heard about the show, wanted to come and see you sing. It’s been a while since I have.” Nathan took a few steps closer, and even as he uncomfortably closed the distance between them, her feet still could not be swayed to move. “Want a hand with those?” he asked and pointed to the files she was gripping for dear life.

“No, I’m fine. You shouldn’t be here,” she replied sharply. “You need to go, Nathan.”

She heard him snort through his nose something that resembled a laugh, though completely devoid of actual humor. “Always trying to get rid of me, Y/N. Why? I come to see you, and you just push, and push, and push me away. Every fucking time.”

The closer he got, the more she was able to make of his features and she right away noticed he was falling back into his old ways. His face was drawn and pallid, his eyes sunken and his cheekbones high. He had probably stopped eating, just consuming booze or drugs daily with the bare minimum amount of sustenance to survive.

“Nathan, you don’t look good. You should go home. Go back to Jersey and see your ma, she--”

“She kicked me out. I’m not welcome there, either. Which is your fault, by the way.”

“Mine?!” Y/N scoffed. “How?”

“After I came to visit you after your boyfriend threw me out on my ass--”

“Not true. You walked out and you’re lucky you did. You’re goddamned lucky that Rob and Jason were there to stop him from hitting you harder.”

Nathan ticked his head to the side, a scowl set into his features as his tongue licked over his top teeth in annoyance. “Noted,” he snapped. “After that, I started drinking again. Now…” he raised his arms up and shrugged, “now I have nothing. Again. Because of you.”

“Then why are you here?” Y/N asked, trying to stay calm and nonchalantly continue the text to Jensen, to let him know what was happening so she wouldn’t be completely alone in it.

Nathan went to respond and saw her thumb slowly swiping across the screen. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, smacked the phone and subsequent folders from her arms, scattering papers across the parking lot.

“No! We’re talking!” he roared, making her cringe away in fear that he would raise a hand to her next.

“Alright, Nathan. Then talk. But over there because you’re scaring me,” Y/N said softly, not wanting to provoke him any further.

Nathan took a small step backward and then laughed as the subtle nighttime breeze began to scatter papers around the empty lot.

“Oops. Sorry. Guess I made a mess again, huh?” he snickered, his eyes growing big and wild.

Y/N could tell his mood was becoming manic and unpredictable like it did the night he put her in the hospital.

“What does that mean?” she asked hesitantly, but in her gut, she already knew.

“Looks a lot like your loft,” he snarled, his eyes affixed to the papers on the ground. A dark, unnerving grin unfurled across his lips as he watched them continue to get further away. When they flickered back up to her, she could see that he was lost in the remnants of the memory. “I made a fucking mess, huh? And your dad’s guitar, woooo boy.” He leaned back, hand on his gut as he cackled with utter joy. “The way that broke in my hands… Look, I was glad I made that stupid bitch happy, but damn that alone was worth doing it for. Felt good shattering the one thing you loved so much...”

Y/N felt like someone punched her in the chest; her breathing was shallow and the sharp pains of no air coursed through her limbs. The things he was saying… he was admitting into breaking in and trashing the townhouse. A million questions flooded her mind, but the most important thing right then was to get back into the safety of the brewery. Once he was gone, she could take what he said and go call Detective Perkins.

Nathan shook his head, the unsettling smile still lingering. “You… you just could never be content. Could you? Always looking for something… some grand purpose. Thinking you’re special ‘cause you can play a few instruments. You ain’t special. You’re just like every other piece of trash from the beach with a good pair of tits and a stupid dream. Why should you get it, huh? What makes you better than the rest of us who didn’t get outta there?”

“Nathan… I--I don’t know what you want from me…” Y/N was slowly backing up with small, shuffling movements. “I tried to be nice and welcoming when you showed up that day. We tried rekindling a friendship after everything--”

“Friendship? Jeeeesus Christ,” he moaned and rubbed a hand over his mouth, “I don’t need any more fucking friends, Y/N, I needed you. But you were already fucking him and I can’t compete--”

“Compete?!” Y/N was finding her voice. The fear starting to dissipate and be replaced by a white, hot flash of rage. “I LEFT him because of you, you asshole! On New Years… I had him… we were together and I got all FUCKED UP and ran out because you got into my head!” She was clenching her fist around the strap of the backpack still on her shoulder and trying not to do something stupid. “I tried to be civil to you, Nathan, because of what we had. But you know, I’m glad you showed your true colors. Because of it, I am happier and more in love then I have ever been! Especially more than I could have ever really been with you…”

Nathan’s face contorted into a man prepared to pounce out of anger; his eyes were wild, his nostrils flaring, the veins in his neck pulsating with rage. Y/N saw the intent in his now dark eyes and knew she pushed too far, but she didn’t care. His body was rigid, but when he made his move, it all seemed to unravel in slow motion.

Nathan’s arms lifted in front of him as his hands shaped into open claws with her throat as their prime target. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body. She screamed at herself to turn and just make a run for the brewery before he was able to get a hold of her, but her feet just wouldn’t move. Her eyes scanned the ground in a panic, looking for the phone he had knocked from her hand, but it just laid there with a darkened, cracked screen and the battery laying beside it. She was able to turn her head just enough to see the rear door to the brewery and the lights on the inside before she felt Nathan’s hands touch her. His fingers curled around her throat, making it difficult to move. Before they tightened completely, Y/N readied herself to fight back and just as she struggled to turn her head around back to Nathan, she was bringing up her leg to his groin with the hardest thrust she could.

Nathan went spiraling backward with a loud grunt of pain once her knee connected with his balls. As he landed on the dirt, Y/N heard voices from behind her; it was Bri and Paolo heading towards them talking while pushing the handcart of beer. The second they noticed what was happening, Paolo left the cart and broke out into a sprint, as did Bri, and was at her side in seconds. Bri had her arms on Y/N’s shoulders, turning her and examining her for any injuries, as Paolo went to grab Nathan. Despite the man’s inebriated condition, he scrambled to his feet, still wearing a salacious grin. He turned and ran as fast as he could, easily able to escape the last-ditch effort Paolo made to grab his arm.

“Are you alright?” Briana asked, still desperately searching Y/N for any sign of physical trauma. “Paolo, call the police, now!”

Paolo nodded, pulled out his cell and began pacing the parking lot as he made the call.

Knowing that she was safe, protected by the presence of Bri and Paolo, Y/N was able to come to terms with what just happened. It started in her knees, the adrenaline that served her so well, now leaving her body in shakes and spurts. She tried to be strong and not let the overwhelming need to scream from the leftover terror in her gut, and if not for Bri holding her upright, she thought she may buckle under it all and fall to her knees.

Y/N covered Bri’s hands with her own and squeezed them tenderly. “I’m fine,” she lied through a shaky breath. “It’s okay, Bri. I promise. He, uh…” she felt the lump forming in her throat at having to actually say the words, “...he touched me for a second. He put his hand on my throat, and somehow I was able to get my leg up and knee him in the crotch.”

Bri took a closer look at Y/N’s neck and thought the marks there would be enough to at least prove to the cops that he had tried to choke her, but not bad enough they wouldn’t fade in a day or so.

“Atta girl,” she breathed, a huff of air following from her lips as she sighed in relief and pulled her friend into an embrace. “Where’s your phone? You need to call Jensen, he’ll--”

“No. Do NOT call him,” Y/N vehemently insisted. “You cannot tell him, Briana. Not yet, please.”

Briana drew in a breath to argue a case for complete honesty with Jensen, but then saw the pleading look in her friend’s eyes. Given the intensity of the situation, she didn’t want Y/N to feel anymore unnerved. She nodded softly and reluctantly agreed. “Alright. But I’m telling you if you don’t tell him soon, I will.”

“Fair enough, just… not right now. Right now, I just want to get out of here.”

“Cops are on the way,” Paolo said, rejoining them. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, he just scared me,” she replied unconvincingly.

“That was your ex, right?”

Y/N nodded slowly, surprised Paolo knew. “Yeah, how…” then the realization dawned on her. “Did the boss man tell you to look out for him?”

“Yeah. He said if he was seen anywhere on the property, call the police immediately.”

“Of course he did,” she muttered. “Please, just let me tell him, okay?”

Paolo looked uneasy and glanced at Briana who nodded slightly in support of Y/N’s request.

“Alright,” he agreed with a sigh, then looked around the lot at the mess of papers continuing to flutter about. “I’ll call inside, get some of the guys to come out and gather up the papers.”

“Thanks, Paolo,” Bri said and bent down to pick up the broken phone. “Hope you had it backed up.” She said, trying to make the comment light, but the underlying ache of empathy she felt for Y/N was far louder.

“Thank God for Robbie and his cloud,” Y/N laughed, but then fell quickly silent. She didn’t know what to do next, outside of waiting for the cops to arrive. If she had just gone with Jensen… the thought plagued her. Coupled with her guilt that was attached to Nathan’s general presence, she came to realize that there was really only one place she could go that could even begin to heal the trauma she experienced at Nathan’s hand.

Briana could tell there was something she needed to say but wanted to give her the space to say it without prodding her along.

“Bri?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I use your phone? I need to go to San Diego.”

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#Jensen Ackles rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x reader insert #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #spn rpf #when you least expect it

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years

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Summary: A short drabble inspired by the photo below. No tags because I wrote this at work and didn’t have time to go through the process. Enjoy!

Breakfast. Interview. Interview. Photo shoot. Lunch. Talk show. Radio Interview. Rest. Private screening.

Chadwick stared down at the schedule in his hand through groggy eyes as he rode the New York streets to his next destination. The promotional schedule for 17 Bridges was amping up for the movie’s theatrical release but, he wasn’t mentally to rip and run around the globe to answer the same questions in a loop.

He wanted to be home with you.

Though you spent countless hours on the phone during his absences and always told him that you understood this facet of his job, he worried that you’d grow tired of his grueling schedule. A brief breakup right after your engagement had him reconsidering his career and he was prepared to take a step back if it meant keeping you in his life. It wasn’t necessary but, he was ready to stop on a dime if you asked.

Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he watched the digital clock on his phone, waiting for New York time to hit 10 AM. Fifty-nine couldn’t hit double zeros for a fraction of a second before he was rushing to the FaceTime app to call the most recent contact in his log.

“I love a punctual man,” you cooed once the call connected. Your smile mirrored his as you stared at him for a moment. “Good morning, baby. You look tired.”

“I am. But I’m not sleepy, just tired of all this shit.”

“I’m sorry, love. I wish I could be there to help.”

“You and me both.” His deep sigh made you frown. When he noticed, he changed his demeanor with a smile. “Don’t do that, beautiful. I’m okay.”

“Are they taking care of you? You been eating okay? They better not be letting you sleep on your couch. You know how your back can get.”

“Everything is under control, Co.”

“Yeah? Then, why do you look so frustrated?”

“Because,” He paused to look around the car and ensure that his driver’s attention was elsewhere. Even when he was sure he was in the clear, he lowered his voice to keep the conversation private. “It’s been four days since I’ve seen you.”

“Okay? And?”

“And...I’m backed up. Frustrated. I need release.”

“What are you-ooooh. Aaron!”

“What? You asked,” he laughed. The sudden feeling of the car stopping and the noise outside of his window let Chadwick know that he had, unfortunately reached the venue of his second interview. Groaning, he looked back to his phone. “I gotta go, baby. I’ll call you the next time I’m free. Enjoy your day.”

“Will do. You try and stay positive today. Keep the “frustration” off your face.”

He smirked after licking his lips, “Or you could come help me get rid of all this tension.”

“Boy, hush!”

A round of “I love you’s” were exchanged to end the conversation and send you on your separate journies.

While you spent the day on a new project at work, he had to sit and answer the same 25 questions about his film for the third consecutive day. Thankfully, his conversation with Complex was a bit more interesting.

“So, Chadwick, what was the last text message you sent if you don’t mind sharing.”

“You trynna get me in trouble,” he laughed, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. “It was either to my publicist or my fiancé.”

“Oooh, fiancé. That one has to be worth hearing.”

“Probably not. I think I sent her something about buying grapes.” Unlocking his phone, he found a notification in his inbox.

CoCo 💜💍: 1 new message, five attachments

Curiosity got the best of him and he opened the thread instead of reading the message he sent to his publicist.

A quick glance granted him a peek at your nude body on full display from several angles. The first four images featured your body posed in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom. Scrolling further, the video he dare not play captured your legs opened for him to see your most intimate parts. The apples of his cheeks rose to meet his eyes in a mischievous smirk.

“No recently sent messages, Chadwick,” the interviewer probed, catching Chadwick’s reaction.

“Uh, yeah. I sent my fiancé ‘Please, don’t bring that dog into the house.’ She likes to adopt every stray she sees.” It was a lie but, it was all he could come up with in a pinch. Accepting his answer, the interviewer moved on to questions about the behind the scenes atmosphere of the film.

Chadwick completely tuned the young lady out to look at the iMessage one last time. At the end, a typed message waited for him.

I hope this helps. Turns out I was frustrated, too. Can’t wait to have you home. 😏😘

#chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chad x coco #coco x chad #black panther fan fiction #black panther fics #black panther fanfiction #black panther #black panther fiction

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rainystripe · 6 years

Text

{one-shot (?)} ROLL DEEP

pairing: Jughead Jones/Betty Cooper fandom: Riverdale 6773 words Summary/excerpt: “Merry Christmas, jo—y” he mutters to himself after securing a large bite of brownie in his mouth. It’s dark in his room during Christmas, but the darkness fades away as his phone lights up with 5 back to back messages from Betty. It doesn’t take much guessing to wonder what she’s sent.

A greeting of course, and a million colorful emoji.

Jug!

Merry Christmas

or,

Jughead Jones + Netflix and Chill= Betty Cooper?

AO3

Okay, idk where to start LOL. This is inspired by my own dumb text posts and @sweaters-and-crowns inspired me to write this out. I wrote this shit in an entire sitting until my phone was about to die. ANYWAY, a huge, HUGE thank you to @theatreofexpression, @electromagnetic-waves and @rezfaultsmoke for helping me out with this! Honestly, cannot express my gratitude enough <3

I have the option for a possible follow up chapter just in case I go along with it. But lemme know if one of you is interested in collaborating with the second one?!

lastly, Happy Holidays to everyone reading this.

Being alone wasn’t all that bad. Jughead Jones knew that perfectly well. And it’s not that he’s entirely lonely, he has friends and family.

A very spotty family at that, but there’s always a family there for him. And as of late, his choice of family isn’t one by blood in fact, his best friend and his dad are always there for him. Archie and Fred Andrews are always on call for whenever he needs anything. It’s not that Jughead is some type of beggar, because he isn’t, but when he finds that he needs the comforting warmth of familiar faces, good greasy food, and overall good times, the Andrews men are always a good choice.

It’s December 13th in late 2015 when Archie texts Jughead the password to the Netflix account that had recently Fred opened up. The red haired teen has done nothing but gush about how ‘epic’ and ‘fucking awesome’ the application was and at first Jughead doesn’t understand the hype. He’s heard of it, yeah— who hasn’t? The ads are everywhere and so are the stupid memes. Jughead also didn’t understand why he would need an online theater since there was a perfectly working on through the Bijou and the Twilight. The later of while held glorious tin encased reels from years past. Nothing could compare to the original format of film, but alas, Jughead was born in a different era: the Digital Age.

“Netflix and Chill”

Just hearing Archie talk about the popular term makes the blue eyed teen grimace as he stuffs a chip into his mouth. Archie has been on a quest to ‘get some girls’ and as far as Jughead knew, no one was biting. He does however, know what the entirety of the football team have been ‘getting some fine ass pussy’ (according to Chuck Clayton) as of late, and the not-subtle locker confessions are always accompanied by the Netflix and Chill combo. He doesn’t quite get what the fuss is all about nor does he care. But one thing is for sure, and that is that Jughead Jones doesn’t want to “chill” with a girl while he could be watching a movie on his own.

Unless that girl was blonde, green eyed and super into movies as he was. Elizabeth Cooper was the only girl that he'd hang out with and that was law. No one else could sit with him through a movie, not even his kid sister Jellybean, as she’d talk through the entire selection of his choice and whine about his top choice films for being ‘boring’. Archie was something else, maybe he’d reconsider the ginger if he’d stop falling asleep during Inglourious Basterds. So, Betty was the perfect candidate for watching a movie or t.v series with.

There’s a strange occurrence one day when they all sit for lunch one day, the blonde plops down and immediately dips her head down to ask them something. They’re outside in the blistering cold and Archie is seated next to her while Jughead sits across from the pair. It’s a normal lunch break until Betty asks what the meaning to ‘chilling with Netflix...or whatever’ meant.

The redhead next to her strings loudly at the wooden guitar while Jughead swears the apple juice he’s just been drinking might’ve gone up his nose. Their reactions only cause Betty’s authoritative gaze to inquire for more information and in typical Cooper fashion, the look demands answers.

“Uh, w-why do you ask, Betts?” Jughead doesn’t mean to stutter, but he does and he doesn’t know why.

Betty blinks and a blonde brow shoots up “Because... Reggie just asked me if I wanted to ‘chill and netflix’ with him.” Her fingers raise to quote her own words, confusion evident on her face. “And then his goonies started to laugh!” She huffs and purses her lips.

Both Archie and Jughead share a knowing look, one of pity from Jughead and the other of awkwardness from his best friend. While Betty picks and tears at the plastic wrapped around her straw, she mumbles in annoyance, distaste as clear as day on her face.

“Ugh. What does that mean?” she mumbles.

Archie’s chocolate eyes urge Jughead’s own icy ones and vice versa. There’s a tiny tug and pull to see who will let Betty in on the dumb trend, and Jughead finally sighs. It always felt weird to talk about anything dirty or suggestive to wholesome Betty Cooper.

“Err— well, Betty…” when he finally starts, her ears perk up and all of her attention is on the beanie clad boy. The curious look and doe eyes make him gulp.

Why did he suddenly feel bad?

“Reggie is being a dumbo as per usual, so don’t listen to anything that leaves his Colgate mouth. But, if you must know…”

The explaining happens and by the end, Betty is fuming in disgust. Archie plants a comforting hand on her back and Jughead offers up the apple on his tray that he never eats as a condolence, one which Betty gratefully pockets for her walk back home after school.

That night, when he’s lounging in tiny space of his living room, his phone rings. Homework has been finished and his backpack was ready for the next class day. Jughead was fresh out the shower and attempting to write on his laptop when the password is texted to him. He stares at his phone for a good minute and ponders if his slow internet would even entice him to download the app on the older computer. It’s not until another text comes through a few minutes later that Archie reminds him of the web browser alternative that he finally gives in and signs into the page.

Writing was sort of boring and the trailer was actually warm for once thanks to the ancient heater that rumbled to life after kicking it in frustration that cold morning. Jughead turns off the light next to him by the couch, allowing darkness to engulf the tiny trailer. The website is simple enough and he realizes that one account already has been set to be his. He snorts and smiles and proceeds to click on the lazy looking image. He doesn’t know where to start; there is an overwhelming amount of content that’s plastered on the main page.

Mean Girls, The Walking Dead, Pocahontas even. Everything is new and flashy and none of it catches his attention and after scrolling for what felt like forever, a recommendation that he recognizes greets him: Rebel Without A Cause.

“Huh, not bad Netflix, not bad at all.” He mutters.

Jughead watches the entirety of the movie and then he’s watches another, and another. He watches a total of four classic films before his eyes close on him. The laptop eventually goes to sleep and Jughead has a strange dream where he’s the main character in a noir inspired film and Betty is a spy that’s out to get him.

—

Surprisingly enough, Netflix becomes a normal part of Jughead’s daily routine. He often finds himself watching The Twilight Zone while getting ready for school. Other times, he’s sitting on the small two person table in the corner of the kitchen while blowing on the instant ramen that he's made for dinner as Nightmare on Elm Street blares through the speakers of his laptop.

He won’t admit it to anyone because he’s not one to admit to anything, but Jughead finds himself literally chilling while watching Netflix. So maybe the concept of an online Blockbuster isn’t all that bad.

The days go on, and when Christmas break finally arrives, a selection of Christmas themed movies filter through his recommended list. Most of the films that have been selected don’t interest him—sans the original Home Alone (and that one only) so Jughead settles on binging the X-Files and going against the holiday mood that the year has bestowed on the entire planet.

“Santa, kiss my ass. Hello, aliens.”

On Christmas Eve, the trio of friends spend a few hours of the afternoon at Pop’s. Betty and Archie bring gifts and spoil Jughead. While he doesn’t have any gifts to give due to his nonexistent cash flow, he does manage to scavenge enough money from under the couch and the inside of his father's truck to pay for two milkshakes.

“Aww, you didn’t have to, Juggie!” críes Betty, but the look in her eyes say otherwise. If there was a way to describe the word ‘mouthwatering’ it would be the way her jade eyes gloss over with glee at the sight of her favorite treat being placed in front of her. Beside’s, milkshakes usually mark the end of their usual meal, so it was tradition anyway.

“It’s fine, Betty. Trust me. Just enjoy it, please.” The burning embarrassment that’s filling his belly makes him squirm at his version of a gift, but alas, his friends don’t seem to care about the quality or price tag.

“Okay.” Betty pouts back, but she cracks not a second after when her finger dips to scoop up the whipped cream topping the strawberry milkshake. The shy smile on her face makes him smile in return and before he can even register what he’s doing, the maraschino cherry from Betty’s treat is being plucked away from its creamy resting place.

“Jug!” she gasps in mild horror.

A sheepish grin breaks out on Jughead after popping the cherry into his mouth.

In the end, Archie offers his which Betty gratefully accepts and chews on while glaring at the dark haired boy sitting across from her.

Betty’s gift is a new cotton sweater in a cool grey, there’s no hoodie or zipper to it, and while it’s not his usual style, it’s very comfortable and warms him up faster than the broken heater. She’s also gifts him with the annual batch of brownies prepared by her mother, ones which he looked forward to every year. The sinful double chocolate chip fudge brownies were the epitome of heaven on earth that Alice Cooper somehow made every year. It was a treat that contradicts her usual strict style of dieting and control of food for her family, but he had no complains about the brownies, and he never will— unless she changes up the recipe to be skinny. His other gift is a 40 dollar gift card to Pops which Archie swears was the best gift ever since he will be able to reload it whenever he wanted to. A suggestion which Archie throws at him that includes the pink card being reloaded by him for his birthday and the following Christmas.

He’s grateful, he really is. Money is a problem, Jughead grew up with minimal money in his life. Being poor and broke and living off used things was the norm for him. He was still too young to find a job and while his father does provide here and there (albeit rarely being home) Jughead manages.

He always manages.

The internet that runs throughout Sunnyside is a shared connection routing through one main trailer where a guy manages to get illegal access to. It’s not the fastest or the best as every trailer uses the line, but it works fine for him when he’s nestles in bed at night. Being a night owl had its perks, no one was awake when he was, which meant that the internet was free of all the traffic that usually slows it down during the day.

Midnight arrives like any other night. There’s a distant crack in the air, fireworks most likely.

“Merry Christmas, jo—y” he mutters to himself after securing a large bite of brownie in his mouth. It’s dark in his room during Christmas, but the darkness fades away as his phone lights up with 5 back to back messages from Betty. It doesn’t take much guessing to wonder what she’s sent.

A greeting of course, and a million colorful emoji.

Jug!

Merry

Christmas

followed by a plethora of green Christmas trees and pink hearts (oddly enough) a few reindeer, presents, bows and confetti. All which she flawlessly executes with the dramatic background effect on the messaging app which lights up with animated fireworks.

“Geez, Betty. An enigma you are.” He reckons out loud before replying with his own simple greeting.

Merry Christmas, Betty. followed by a plain thumbs up.

—

Exactly two years later, 2016 Jughead Jones would have actually laughed in the face of his present self when told that he was in a romantic relationship. A romantic relationship with a girl, not a stranger, but Elizabeth Cooper.

Jughead was sure that love wasn’t for him. Love and affection had screwed him over since the day he was conceived. His father, FP Jones was a recovering alcoholic now, but he he used to be a poor father. A gang leader, drug dealer with major issues. Gladys Jones— his mother, who knows where the hell she’d fucked off to. She claims to be in Toledo with his grandparents and younger sister Jellybean, but who knows really.

Life had gotten complex during the summer of 2017. A local golden boy had been murdered and the mystery of who did it had somehow brought Betty and himself closer together, so close in fact that Jughead realized that his feelings for her were much farther from friendly.

They had their ups and downs as any couple does. At some point he was sure that they just couldn’t work out. It was as if the universe and his cursed destiny tried to pry him from anything good in his life, but he should have known Betty.

Boy, should he have, especially when dealing with Betty and her world famous stubbornness.

Her fight and reassurance kicks him in the face, planting firmly the idea that he controls his own path and destiny. So, ever since their last breakup back during Halloween, things have been well for the young couple. So well in fact that he was sure he was permanently high.

High off Betty Cooper.

A delicious high, one which he couldn’t get enough of. Her scent, her skin, eyes nose and lips, every bit of Betty was a craving that he woke up to every morning. Jughead was still somewhat shy and awkward around her, that was who he was in personality. He wasn’t some stud who walked around oozing sex appeal and constantly grabbing his girlfriends ass while out in public. Far from it.

Behind closed doors and in the comfort of certain places, both teens found solace in each other’s arms. A comfort and warm that could brave anything the outside world brought to them. No attempt at joining his father's ex-gang could break them. Alice Cooper’s demands to leave FP’s son in Southside went on deaf ears.

Jughead muttered words of love to Betty.

“I love you...I love you.”

She’d watched in surprise at his confession, one which filled her with so much joy that she found the words to mutter them back with tears looking at her jade eyes as she inched closer with a heart crushing smile on her face.

“Jughead Jones, I love you.”

Betty was a part of him then and an even more important one now.

The warm scent of coconut wafts up his nostrils. It’s Christmas again, and this year Betty is spending it with him in the dinky trailer. It’s cold inside and neither teen have bothered to separate from each other to run out and grab the portable heater that Betty had brought along.

Betty’s lips are on his, working through a wet frenzy that makes his stomach clench in need. Their kiss is sloppy to say the least. Long have the brownies been forgotten. The fresh sweets where the reason as to why she was with him in the first place, having begged Alice to let her take the car to drop them off. Even though it was midnight now, Betty had perfectly mapped out when to ask and leave the house.

“Mm—Betty, your mom—“ Jughead muttered between kisses.

“—is asleep” she replied around a mouthful full of tongue. Feverish kisses filled the air of the cramped trailer, their mouths digging deeper into one another. Betty whimpered at the feel of Jughead’s tongue curling against her own, her hands coming down to keep her steady against the edges of the couch.

“You sure?”

“Positive, now shut up and kiss me.” She smiled into his lips. The blue eyed boy eyes crinkled in response, a mischievous smile creeping tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“If you say so.” He finished before attacking her moist lips once more. Teeth came in contact and wet sounds filled the air. The short gasps of air warmed up their faces as they continued to kiss until Betty was resting her back against the worn out cushions of the couch.

This Christmas was already starting off with a literal bang and Jughead had never been so excited for any holiday in his life.

Nimble fingers slip into midnight curls, tugging Jughead closer into her mouth. The same fingers feel good against his scalp which send a delicious sensation down his spine and across his entire body. He’s positioned himself above the blonde, making sure not to crush her by hoisting his body up by one knee in between her legs while the other hangs off the couch. Betty’s legs however, are a different story. The couch was far too small and they were both too tall. One of Betty’s legs is propped up against the headrest of the couch while the other struggles to stay curled around his hanging leg. Gravity doesn’t help and her leg is constantly dragging down before she hoists it back up into place.

Betty notes the taste on his lips and tongue, it’s sweet from the brownies and strong from the coffee he’d downed earlier. The taste is delicious and she can’t get enough and makes sure to let it be known when she curls her tongue against his own, sucking on it lightly. The action causes the deep rumble of his moan to rip through the deepest reaches of his body. It strikes her as super sexy and she moans back.

Jughead latches onto her bottom lip, knipping it softly before plucking it. Her cherry lips are engorged and plump, screaming in a lovely tint that only beckons him to return. Her chest is heaving and his hand reaches out to lift the peach colored top from her body. The tiniest brush against her skin burns him and suddenly the room is no longer freezing, but scalding hot.

Sucking in a ragged breath, Betty manages to lift the top half of her body and arms to remove her sweater, leaving her in a flower patterned lace bra. The laptop screen is still bright in front of them. Home Alone is playing in the background and the hotel scene manages to accentuate the lighting around Betty.

Jughead swallows at the mere sight of Betty’s glowing honey eyes under the effect of the screen. A sheen of gloss on her lips blinds him and he wants nothing more than to kiss her again.

He’s about to lean down when she stops with him with a warm hand on his chest.

Her usually alert eyes are blown wide and lust envelops the usually sweet girl. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth and Jughead feels his mouth go dry.

Betty is stunning.

The swell of her breasts calls to him and he can’t get close. The periwinkle tinted bra is tight against her skin and he wonders if he can free her from it soon. Betty, however has other plans. She shoots him a shy look and avoids eye contact and she wiggles out of her skirt.

“Betty?” He whispers. Why? He doesn’t know. It’s not like there’s someone else in the trailer.

When the fabric reaches her knees, Jughead takes it as a signal to move back and give her space to watch her as she lifts her long legs in the air to dispose of the wine colored skirt.

It’s a sight, and wonderful one at that. Long creamy legs, supple thighs and matching set of underwear greet him and blue eyes watch intently as Betty bends both knees in front of her stomach. Her pink sneakers dangle in front if him as her arms reach for her knees, hugging them close to her chest. A teasing smile causes his boxers to feel tighter. Blood pumps down south and Jughead groans. The only time that he chooses to wear boxers briefs too. The strain is stifling and he feels the urge to get naked then and there.

“Betts…” He sighs in desperation. He doesn’t know why she’s huddled up or why she’s smiling at him him like that, but damn does she looks good enough to eat.

“Jug…” she copies. Her hands move from cupping her knees to roaming down her legs all while keeping her knees close. It’s a movement that baby blue eyes never stray away from.

Jughead’s eyes widen slightly, urging her on. “Yeah?”

Suddenly she’s nervous, very nervous. There’s something that she’s been wanting for a few days now, a repeat of what they first tried a week prior. An experiment that involved Jughead’s mouth. It’s hunted her, the thought and memories combined with feelings causing arousal to pool in between her legs.

She can’t help wanting to stop their act to get a dose of his mouth on her nether region, but the need is incredibly strong and her panties only become wetter by the second.

“I want you...here.” Her legs part slightly, allowing enough space for her arm to budge through her thigh to cover her sex through her underwear. Betty gulps in anticipation, wondering if Jughead will say no and if she’s ruined the moment with her request.

Their sexual history was tame, wild missionary sex with the occasional ass in the air for Betty as Jughead pounds at her from behind. Sex was new, and they’d only been experimenting for a few weeks, so introducing something new was always nerve wracking. Betty remembers how shy he’d been when she had stuffed her hand into his jeans two nights after their loss of virginity. A day after that Jughead rubbed her into an orgasm over her panties while waiting for school to start. Even then, they’d both fumbled during the entire process. A series of apologies littered the entire thing consummation.

They were wet behind the ears, yes, but that didn’t stop two hormonal teenagers from lusting after each other. Two weeks prior, Jughead managed to gather his thoughts and went down on Betty for the first time, earning him a wet nose and chin with a thigh crushing orgasm against his head from Betty all while doing it on her childhood bed. It must have been good enough to want her to ask for seconds, because his heart has leapt at her sudden request.

“Oh.” He said lightly.

Noticing his response not being as enthusiastic as she’d imagined it be, Betty’s legs slowly drop back down, embarrassment engulfing her. Again, her heart quickens and a dull ring is the only thing that she can properly register. Quickly, she moves to sit up, green eyes avoiding his. The shame in her face is obvious and Betty feels stupid for ruining the moment.

Why couldn’t she have just let nature take its course without having to interrupt it for her own selfish needs?

“You know, never mind.” A nervous laugh escapes her and Betty is moving to sit up but Jughead stops her. The boy moves in closer to her, and her legs are nudged apart. Her heart slams against her chest and Betty is blinking up at Jughead in surprise.

“It’s okay, Betty. I’ll do it...you don’t have to ask.” He adds shyly. His eyes wander to hers, locking together that it becomes hard to look away.

It was surprising that she’s asked him to repeat the act. The first time was sloppy and not how he’d imagine it to be, but he had managed to make her come and since it was never brought up again until now, Jughead had guessed she didn’t like it.

But now, his member was growing stiffer against his boxers the longer that he thought about tasting Betty again.

“Oh, I just…” her green eyes also wander off with an equally awkward look on her face, but her focus moves to his pajama pants where a bulge was beginning to form. The red in her cheeks is adorable and Jughead suddenly leans down to kiss her, catching her off guard. Betty gasps into the kiss, opening her mouth wider for Jughead’s tongue to invade every inch. The kiss gets heated, and Jughead body pushes down against her own, making Betty lay down once again.

As they kiss, Jughead inhales deeply, enjoying the mewls that escaped Betty when taking her leg to prop back up against the headrest. His hand trails down from her knee, down the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

The continue to kiss with Betty breaking contact to shuffle closer down towards his knee, spreading her legs even wider in the process by hooking an arm under her other leg. Kisses are placed against his jaw and down the exposed skin of his neck. It’s only when her nose nuzzles his sweater does he realize that he’s still fully clothed.

Jughead shrugs off the material in a hurry, his hair becoming a mess of curls jutting in every direction, a look which makes Betty bite at the corner of her bottom lip.

He looks delicious.

Shirtless, with wild hair and a trail of dark hair that disappears into his pajama pants. Jughead makes Betty’s clit throb in need, so much so that her hand leaves her leg to cup her center instead. The fabric is moist to the touch and Betty gasps at how sensitive she feels at the simplest of pressure.

“Juggie…”

Jughead’s stormy eyes shine black under the light of the laptop screen, the shadows cast complex shadows on Jughead’s body which cause Betty to lick at her lips when trailing her eyes down his exposed chest and hips. The black band of his boxers pokes through the blue hues of the plaid pattern of his bottoms. The dip in his hips is sharp and balances out the smooth taut skin of his abdomen while his arms fill out with a strong bulk of muscle that works for his body type: not too much but enough to make her mouth water.

“Lay back Betty.”

And she does, head coming in contact with the wood skeleton of the ancient armrest. The butterflies in her stomach suddenly burst into a flurry of excitement that make her suck in a breath of anticipation. Both of her hands come to lay on her stomach, her chest rising and falling at an alarming rate.

“I’m gonna go down on you, okay?” It's not until Jughead moves slightly that Betty ss able to see how deep his eyes have darkened, the pupils of his eyes gone pitch black with a single ring of blue circling the iris. The look alone cause her walls to pulse on their own and Betty nods.

“Okay.”

The movie is long forgotten and the brownies are as cold by then. Jughead finds a spot on his stomach to lay on, its cramped on the couch. It’s one of the time where he wishes he could move them to the bed, but all that walking would ruin some of the mood.

When he’s nestled in front Betty’s spread legs, her arousal become more evident. There’s a dark patch on her panties and the fabric sticks to her folds like a second skin.

“Jug…”

He glances up at Betty, who’d eventually moved up a bit to give him space. Her blonde head now rests on the armrest, one leg still up on the head rest while the other is dangled off his couch. Betty’s green eyes were dark and glazed over in need, both her hands fisted at her hips.

“Sorry, babe.” Her arousal was strong, enticing and doing things to him. Jughead’s hand move to hover above her panty before hooking a finger right over the soaked spot to push the material to the side, exposing Betty to the cool air. She shudders at the exposure and shifts slightly. It’s still somewhat embarrassing to be so exposed, but Jughead boosts a confidence in her that she was sure she didn’t have before and she loves it.

Gulping at the sight, Jughead inches closer to Betty, the elegant slit, moist and beckoning for attention.

“You know, somehow this is better than those brownies.” He muses, smirking.

Betty’s cheeks flame up at the comment and her legs move to close before he’s reaching up to push them apart.

She’s embarrassed and rightfully so, they both have yet to stare openly at each other so intimately.

“Please” She whispers. “I want this.” Betty whines and bucks her hips, rolling them in want. The blonde patch of hair above her pink folds is always a sight to behold. It’s cute and suits her and while he didn’t understand her need to trim, Jughead decides that it is very Betty like to have and quite frankly, he doesn’t care how she looks like down there.

His fingers brush over the tougher hair, tugging at it slightly before running them down her moist lips. And in one swoop, his face is burying down on to her warm core.

Nose deep, Jughead sucks in the air around him, slowing down to breath while indulging in Betty. A shudder rips through her body and she shakes beneath him with a moan so loud that it alarms even herself. Immediately, her hands reach to grab onto anything. And Betty finds her nails digging into the back of the armrest and the cushion beneath her. Her body arches, hips rolling into her boyfriends mouth while her body twists in pleasure. The shaking never stops and Betty knows she isn’t cold.

“Ah—“ she cries out. Jughead closes his eyes, his tongue rolling up and down Betty’s folds, making sure to stop on her clit to rub circles on the bundle of nerves. She’s shaking and he smirks into her skin.

Her body hasn’t been stimulated like that, with a ravenous mouth. As it stands, the young couple are novices who only have missionary (for the most part.) sex. So, having Jughead delicately grind his soft tongue against her aching clit sends her over the moon and Betty finds that her body won’t stop shaking from excitement.

The taste is something he can’t describe. It’s unlike anything he’s tasted before, but he likes it. It’s Betty and he’s causing her to release her juices. A boost of confidence washes over him and his mouth continues to work harder. Jughead’s dark head swivels against Betty, and she blushes when she catches a glimpse of his work.

Up, down, side to side, his tongue laps through pink folds. He even comes in contact with her entrance, teasing it with a few light probes which cause her to gasp and scramble to sit up on her elbows. He’s doing something right and he continues to pleasure Betty even more.

“Ooh, like that, Juggie...oh.” Betty moans, watching Jughead’s dark head go to work on her. The view is intoxicating and it’s hard to register that the act is happening to her. The sight is in fact her underwear, her patch of blonde, all which bluntly remind her that Jughead Jones is buried nose deep in her pussy.

She tosses her head back in ecstasy the moment the sucking on her engorged clit becomes too much. The pleasure is tingling and her body is on fire. Betty’s blonde tresses have long been let loose and she runs her fingers through her hair, gripping at the scalp to control the moans that she’s too embarrassed to release and Jughead takes notice.

The sucking become quicker, matching his beating heart, a rapid motion that causes Betty to gasp loudly. Her green eyes snap down to stare at him in awe, pink lips parted. Tiny moans and ‘yes, yes’ invade his body urging him on.

The sucking become sloppy, and Jughead returns to licking her wildly while Betty grinds her sex against his mouth. Her cries are starting to become louder, the filter slowly disappearing.

“That’s it, no need to hold it in.” He pauses to urge her on. He wants to hear Betty, he wants to hear and see how badly she wants him. The strain in his boxers is unbearable and at some point Jughead finds his own hips grinding into the corners of the cushion to release some friction. The gyration against his hips against the cushion only urges him on and before both know it, his mouth back on Betty. Jughead’s hunger is amplified by the use of his tongue on Betty.

“Oh fuck—“ the sob that tears through the living room makes Jughead stop his actions. The sight of Betty riding through her orgasm is indescribable. Like an flower bud finally unraveling and blossoming, Betty is a literal description of the act. Betty gasps, her breath hitching as her body shakes and her hips snap in front of him three times. Tiny grunts explode from her shaking body and the sounds make Jughead shudder.

The scene is erotic and beautiful, better than any scene in any movie.

“Wow.” Breaths Jughead after she’s landed back down. The shaking has minimized but her thighs still twitch against the sides of his arms. Betty pushes up against the corner of the couch with a finger trapped in her teeth. Her blonde locks are a mess and cover her eyes but to Jughead, it as the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed.

The tired smile that Betty manages blows the air right out of him.

“God, Betty. That was...stunning.” He breathes, leaning over to her and brushing the golden strands away from her face.

“Mm, you’re so good at that, Jug.” She croaks, her voice light as she struggled to catch her breath. Somehow, Betty finds the will to smirk seductively at him. Jughead groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Again, all Betty can manage to do is groan and tug him down for a kiss.

“I love you, Juggie. I love you so much.” Her declaration make his heart swell, as well as his cock. He’s sure that she’s sucking on his lower lip to taste herself, and it’s made more obvious when she laps at the bottom of his lip.

“Thank you.” She’s still shaking and her stomach continues to jerk against her will and Jughead notices when his hand brushes her navel.

And Betty can taste herself, she can also smell herself which makes her stomach coil in need. She has had a mind blowing orgasm, and she wanted more. But she was sure that she couldn’t go through another one so soon, but she finds Jughead’s hand and leads his fingers to her sensitive folds.

“You did that.” Betty whispers hotly against his ears.

Jughead sucks in a breath and nods, his voice lowering. “I did…”

“Mm.”

The silent foreplay continues and Jughead doesn’t move from his position right above Betty. He continues to rub lazily along her even slicker folds which cause her to gasp and buck her hips. Jughead loves the result that he’s caused. When he comes in contact with her swollen clit, Betty jerks and immediately grabs him by the wrists and shoots him a shy look.

“I don’t think I can do another one just yet.” Biting her lip, Betty blinks up at him and Jughead nods, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Jughead freezes, silently cursing for kissing her there right after where he’s mouth has been. Betty seems to notice and giggles.

“It’s okay, Jug. I’ll take a shower as soon as I get home...which I should be doing right about--“ when reaching for her phone on the coffee table, the blonde just about shoots up a foot high.

“Ohmygod.”

“Ohmygod, Jug. I gotta go! My mom's going to kill me!” Like a hurricane, Betty sprints from the couch only stopping to fix her underwear before she’s slipping the crumpled skirt back over her legs and Jughead frowns.

Really?

As confused as he is, he still manages to move out of her way. What time was it anyway? She’s been over for what? Two hours? Also, Betty had been positive that her mother would be knocked out by now.

“Betty, I’m sure your mom won’t notice—“ Betty interrupts him as soon as he starts by shoving her phone in his face. It’s 3:24 am and there are three missed calls and a text: all from ‘Momster’

“Oh shit. Betty.” Jughead’s eyes had gone wide and he moves to help her move along. He guesses that he can live with blue balls than face the wrath of Alice Cooper. After all, he can always get access to Betty when he wants to and if he asks nicely. But for now, he’s helping her by throwing the red scarf over her shoulder and wrapping it as best as he can while she retires her hair.

“She’s going to murder me. When did it become 3?” The panic is evident and he feels bad for her. If he could, he would show up to doorstep and take the verbal beating instead.

“Better yet, why is she still up?” Jughead muses. Betty stops and wonders, but shakes her head after a moment. Time was precious and Alice Cooper did not wait. Taking her bag from the single seat, she leans in and plants a kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t...help you out.”

Both teens move to look at his crotch and Jughead coughs. Turning at an angle to avoid the attention that his erection was receiving. It's not as bad as it was earlier, all the Alice talk ruining the mood in the end.

“It’s fine. No need to worry about me, Betts.”

Betty shoots him a sad smile, she really does feel bad. She wanted more but they had no time. So instead she makes a promise. Jughead blinks when Betty steps closer, her warm breath, ghosting over his ear.

“I’ll make it up to you. Think of it as part two to your present?” His body shudders with excitement at the thought. His body also freezes at the hand that squeezes at his cock through the thin material of his pajama bottoms.

“Be—“

Betty Cooper winks and waves before she’s out the door and running towards the station wagon parked in front of the trailer. Jughead stands there for a split second before rushing to the door, watching as the head beams light up the makeshift driveway and as Betty pulls out. She manages a wave through the window and he returns it. The station wagon peels out of Sunnyside Park, driving off into the distance.

Once she’s gone, Jughead takes a quick shower and drops into the bed in a heap of sexual frustration. He’d tried to help himself out under the cool water that the trailer managed to pump out, but he didn’t get far. A hand did not compare to Betty’s hands and lips. He can’t help the lingering arousal but the night had been fun and it turned out different than what he expected. It’s a Christmas completely different to the previous ones before and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When he’s nestled into the warm sheets, his phone lights up.

A message from Betty.

Netflix and Chill? My house 6:40 sharp. Parents are visiting Polly.

He snorts at the term, the same term which he now remembers caused Betty to make the stinkiest face he’s ever seen. It’s not something he’d like back then, but he’s suddenly very grateful for Archie talking so much about the app that it somehow brought Betty and Jughead together for Christmas.

And besides, it’s not like they’ll be watching anything. There has to be something to distract them to set the mood. Who really watches a movie when they have a significant other anymore?

Netflix and Chill? You bet.

The phone clicks as it’s turned off and Jughead grins in the darkness, excited for the next couple of hours.

—-

merry chrystler, murry curr’mas!!

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #mari writes #fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction

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