#nothing I do keeps it from shrugging down
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for now, let’s get away ~c. sturniolo x reader
drummer!chris x reader au
this took me i’m not kidding three weeks to finish and i still hate the end omfg. i hope yall like it. this was the chris fic i was teasing for fucking ever. this shit is 7.7k words.
this is the second to last thing i have to post before i leave 🥹. all that’s left is the finale to number neighbors (ik i said two more parts but i changed my mind cause the part 15 was pretty much perfect and there’s nothing more for me to do but end it on a funny silly note so). i love u all so much pls tell me what u thinks bout this i worked so fucking hard LOL. okay bye MWAH ENJOYYYYY
there’s lights flashing, smoke billowing through the air and scattered screams floating through the semi-crowded bar. y/n sits with her group of three, nursing a too-strong cocktail, watching the band on stage with interested eyes.
her eyes keep wandering back to the drummer, a long haired, brunette that’s hammering down on his instrument like there’s no tomorrow. she’s already deduced that they’ve got to be siblings, him and the lead, because honestly she thought she was seeing double from the moment her and her friends walked in.
they’re performing a cover of hole in the earth, by deftones, a song that she adores, which is honestly making her shift in her seat slightly. the drummer wears a long sleeved, black and white shirt, red stars on the shoulders. his hair is falling down into his face, which he pushes back in between his parts, causing the light to reflect off of a silver bracelet hanging off his wrist.
y/n’s been staring at him shamelessly the entire performance. he’s hot and talented and she’s a little bit tipsy so her art of subtlety is very much off. not that she cares.
he’d been looking at her too, periodically through the show. she’d caught his eyes more than once, opting for a small smirk and look away, usually to his carbon copy on the mic. it makes him shake his head with a smile every time.
her attention is shifted from the stage when her best friend nudges her. “you and the drummer have been eye fucking since the moment they got up there.” there’s teasing to her tone and y/n just shrugs.
“well, look at him,” she claps when they announce that they’re done for the night and start to thank the crowd. “how could i not?”
her other friend, who’s standing in front of her nods with a dreamy sigh, “you’re so real for that. i think i’ve been staring open mouthed at the singer for like half an hour.”
y/n laughs, looking back at the stage. she’s disappointed to see the band gone, their empty set up the only thing left in their wake. she picks up her drink, finishing it, before calling the bartender over to get another one.
before she can say anything though, a voice cuts through. “whatever she wants, make it two.”
y/n looks up, surprise filling her face. mr drummer man was right beside her, damp hair and wide smile blinding her. she raised an eyebrow before giving her order, then turning in her stool to face him.
“do you typically buy drinks for every girl that’s at your shows?”
he laughs, short and breathy. “only if they look like you do.” he says, leaning forward so she can hear him better. “and if they spend my entire set staring me down with eyes as pretty as yours.”
warmth spreads through her cheeks, but she doesn’t falter. “nice one.” she takes a sip as the drinks are placed in front of them. “wonder how many times you’ve used that one.”
drummer boy leans his elbow on the bar, slotting his body in the space between her and the person in the next seat. “maybe like, six times. but it doesn’t make it less true.”
she laughs, throwing her head back just the tiniest bit. “you’re unbelievable.”
“i’ve been told once or twice.” he runs a hand through his hair. “you have no idea.”
y/n feels loopy, between the alcohol in her veins and the warmth in her stomach from his attention, she thinks she might be in for a little bit of trouble here.
“i’m just kidding though. i noticed you pretty much the second i got on stage.” his eyes are so blue it’s freaking her out. in a good way, though. “knew i had to look for you afterwards.”
y/n raises her eyebrow. “oh, you had a plan?”
“of course i did. no way was i letting you walk out of here without talking to you.”
she knows it’s a line, knows his type. the smooth talking, shit-eating grin that could make any girl fall to their knees. part of her wants to ignore him, just for the sake of it. but a much bigger, much more attracted to him, so badly it’s putting crazy thoughts in her head, part of her is incredibly down for the chase.
y/n turns to look at her friends, who are now talking to the rest of the band. she chuckles, seeing her best friend and the lead singer basically pressed up against each other talking, her looking up at him with what y/n knows are the eyes. her other close friend is talking to who she thinks is the guitarist and a new face, who coincidentally looks exactly the other two.
when she turns back to the boy in front of her, she picks up her drink, looking him dead in the eyes. she’s not entirely doing it on purpose, wrapping her glossed lips around the straw slowly, before putting her glass back down on the bar, but she can tell that it takes a toll on him.
drummer boy blows at a breath, moving his eyes from her lips back up to her eyes. “can i know your name now? or do i have to beg?”
he’s slightly closer to her now. she can smell his cologne in the space between them, and now can see the silver dog tag that hangs from his neck. she notices the silver hoop in his right nostril that she didn’t see before. it makes a chill go down her spine.
“hm,” she basically purrs. “you begging me for something has a nice ring to it.”
the smirk in the corner of his mouth widens. “i’ll beg you for anything you want, sweetheart.”
she decides to stop torturing him. “y/n.” she offers him her hand.
he looks down, bigger one enveloping hers immediately. his hand is warm and slightly rough. it makes her shift again. “chris.”
chris, she thinks. of course his name is chris.
“so who’s in the band with you? cause it’s kind of freaking me out how much you look alike.”
he lets her hand go, not without lingering slightly. “my brother matt,” he looks up and laughs. “who is five seconds away from making out with your friend right now, is the lead. nick’s the photographer and does the behind the scenes shit. jack is just our friend.”
she nods, “triplets.”
“yeah, unfortunately.” his eyes are fond. “i’m the best looking one by far though.”
y/n rolls her eyes, ready to humble him through a lie, when all of sudden there’s a shout behind them.
“she said get lost, you fucking loser.” nick says, standing in front of the friend of y/n’s that isn’t attached to matt.
the presumably drunk asshole sneers at him, “i’m sure she can speak for herself, dickhead.”
“i did speak for myself, dumbass.” her friend says, rolling her eyes. “i’m not interested, not even in the slightest. walk away.”
“you’re not all that anyway, bitch.”
matt speaks next, “watch your fucking mouth, bro.”
chris can tell it’s getting out of hand when the guy keeps taking steps forward, matt’s hand on nick’s arm to stop what feels inevitable. y/n’s friend scoffs. “i was ten seconds ago when you thought, for some odd reason, that you could ever approach me.”
the guy doesn’t seem to like that answer or the various insults the group of them keep giving him, so he shoves past nick and gets right in her face.
y/n takes less than three seconds to throw her drink and shove him backward, causing him to stumble into another drunk asshole, which doesn’t end well.
there’s liquor flying everywhere, fists being thrown and all out chaos in the bar, causing security to come bustling through the crowd. people have started to fight just for the hell of it, and now they’ve got to go.
chris grabs y/n’s hand, tugging her towards the back exit. “we’ve got to go, now.” despite the chaos, he’s grinning, and she kinda wants to kiss him.
her eyes find her best friends, shoving through people recklessly. when she gets to them, they’re laughing incredulously at the chaos they’ve all inadvertently caused.
“i think i’m gonna go with chris,” y/n says over the madness.
“you don’t even know him!” her friend replies, eyebrows sky high.
“yeah,” she says, looking back to chris who is urging her forward. “but i think i want to.”
her other friend grins ear to ear, looking back at his brothers. “go. text us wherever you end up. we’re going with them.”
they shout love you’s and go in opposite directions, her friends with the band and her with chris.
he takes her hand as security gets into the main crowd, pulling her through expertly. once they get to the back door they’re running, fast and hard, feet slapping against the pavement.
she can hear their laughter roaring in her ears, can feel both their pulses in her fingertips where her and chris’ hands connect. it’s crazy, her following him blindly.
she couldn’t even pretend to be bothered by it.
***
“i can’t believe i actually just ran from a bar brawl with you,” y/n says, texting her friends to make sure they ended up okay. they told her that they were at a diner right now with the rest of the band, safe and sound.
chris is also texting, his brothers she assumes, before he slides his phone back into his pocket. “i can’t believe you started the bar brawl.”
his face and tone is teasing. she rolls her eyes, nudging his shoulder as they walk side by side down the city streets. “i did not start it. that drunk dick that couldn’t take no for an answer did.”
chris’ hands are in his pockets as he leads her down the road. she thinks, hopes he knows where he’s going. “i know. it’s just funny watching your face twist up.”
they don’t say anything as they continue their path. they’re in what looks like another bar strip, except it’s pretty much deserted. there’s walls with beautiful graffiti next to them, parking meters decorating the sides of the sidewalk. the street lights are on and bright, and occasionally a car will speed down the one way road like a bat out of hell.
y/n pulls her jacket, which she managed to grab off her bar stool before they escaped, around her tighter. december in new jersey was unforgiving, and the short skirt and fur lined tights she had on weren’t doing enough to protect her from the cold. she’s just glad she opted for vans tonight.
she looks over to the man next to her, hands shoved in his front pockets and hair falling into his eyes. chris’ nose and cheeks are dusted pink from the cold air, and she wants to brush it out of his face. so she does.
she stops him in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing his arm. he looks at her quizzically, breathing soft. she reaches up and rakes a hand through the soft, brown locks, positioning it so she could continue to see his eyes. he lips turn upwards.
“where are we going?” she says, her arm falling back to her side.
he nods his head towards a car parked a little bit away. “my car.”
she cocks her head. “why the hell are you parked this far from where you’re performing?”
“we were here earlier,” chris says, walking ahead. she follows. “after we set up at the Phoenix, we came here to get some drinks. too much time to kill led to a round of drunk pool. we ubered to the show.”
she doesn’t know him very well, but she knows it makes sense. “very professional.”
chris unlocks his car, leaning over and opening the passenger door. he leans his forearm on the roof of the car, grinning. “that’s rock and roll baby.”
she scoffs a laugh. “never say that, ever again.”
he laughs too. “yeah, alright.”
once they’re settled in the car, chris hands her the aux. she looks at him, surprised. “you want me to play music?”
he nods. “it’s a good character tester. show me what you got.”
she thinks there’s something more underneath the words. she takes the challenge. “you’re on.”
chris pulls off into the night just as pyramids starts.
***
something y/n had never understood was magnets. sure, they had a specific and concrete explanation, scientifically proven, but it just never really settled in her brain right. the concept of push and pull and attraction to metal was a mystery to her.
she kind of feels like a a stray paper clip right now, though. as chris glides through the streets of jersey she’s encapsulated with the way the fleeting lights ghost over his face, outlining his jaw. he’s got one hand on the wheel and one on the middle console, which makes her wish he’d reach a little further to the flesh of her thigh.
when he parks in the back of a big building that she knows far too well, she’s mystified. “why the hell are we at my childhood rec center right now?”
chris leans forward, looking out the windshield. he shrugs. “i didn’t even know that’s where we were. i was just driving to be honest.”
y/n notices the pull towards him again. cause what a coincidence right?
she unfastens her seatbelt and turns her body towards him, leaning her back against her door. “so what made you wanna be a drummer?”
the question seems to come out of nowhere, to chris at least, but he welcomes it. he copies her movements, facing her as well. his seat is pulled all the way back. “just always loved music. so has matt. my brothers are my best friends, so getting a chance to create music with them seemed like a life i’d always wanna live.”
she loves that answer. makes her heartbeat a little faster. “big softie.”
chris smiles wide, teeth poking out. “kind of.” he fiddles with the steering wheel cover. y/n has noticed that he’s always moving in some capacity. fingers always twitching or drumming on a surface, hands in his hair, cracking his neck— he can never sit still. “what’s your thing?”
she thinks. “don’t know if i have one.”
he tuts. “everyone has a thing.”
her eyes laser focus on his necklace. she’s searching her brain for the best thing to say, but keeps coming up short. there were things she loved, books, movies, art— but there was nothing that really made her feel like she could do it forever. it made her feel boring in comparison.
“i don’t know, really.”
chris looks at her like he’s trying to decode a riddle. she kind of shrinks under the gaze. “i think you’re holding back.” she rolls her eyes, because she doesn’t know what else to do. “but even if that’s true, you’ve got time. nobody has everything figured out.”
the words are comforting, but a little too heavy for the night. what she’s going to do with her life is so not the conversation she wants to be having with the hot drummer she ran away from a bar fight with.
“thank you so much, dr. chris.” he laughs, shaking his head. y/n has a sudden stroke of recklessness genius. she smiles like a cheshire cat, slow growing and completely mesmerizing to the boy across from her.
“what’s with the evil smile? you’re freaking me out.” except he’s lying. he’s quite literally hanging on to her every word.
“let’s go.” she’s climbing over the middle console now, stopping briefly on his lap before reaching for his door. why she just didn’t get out on her side, she doesn’t know. she does. the inexplicable need to be close to him compels her to do it. stupid fucking magnet theory.
before she can grasp it though, chris’s hands plant themselves firmly on her hips. she looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. he just grins up at her, looking peacefully.
“just give me a minute. this is pretty much the view i was imagining the entire show while looking at you.” y/n feels herself pulse at the sentence. “it’s even better than i could’ve ever pictured it.”
“dirty dog,” she teases, but settles down anyway.
“oh come on,” he replies. his hands are wandering the tiniest bit, brushing the curve of her spine. “you’re telling me all your thoughts of me have been perfectly respectable?”
she scoffs in amusement. “you need to be humbled, like immediately. maybe the fame’s going to your head.” she trails her eyes down his chest where their bodies connect. “and there’s no telling which one.”
chris chuckles. “not my style, sugar.”
“oh?” y/n leans down, head above him and hair acting as a curtain around them. “am i your first groupie?”
the smirk that slides on to his face is sweltering. his fingers are rubbing circles into the skin of her back and she forces herself not to shiver at the feeling.
“is that what’s going on here? i thought we were just hanging out.” there’s a sly smile on his mouth, eyes implying less than pure things. he leans up on his elbows, causing his hands to disappear. she misses the touch as soon as it’s gone. there’s barely an inch apart. “looks like i’m not the only one who had a plan. hm?”
she shoves his shoulder, causing him to lay back flat with a laugh. “you’ve bumped your head on one too many tour buses.”
y/n opens the car door, reaching down and grabbing his hand. chris lets her pull him up. he’s still laughing. “what are we doing?”
“being quiet,” she says, leading them to the back door she’d seen almost every night back in her teenage years. “not a word.” she warns.
she’d left her purse in the car, but it doesn’t really matter. pulling a bobby pin from her hair, she gets to work jamming it into the lock and wiggling it around. she can feel chris’ body heat behind her, and the cold air makes her want to sink into it. she’s a woman on a mission though, so she pushes the thought from her head.
she smirks when the lock clicks, like always, and pulls the door open. “lets go.”
the surprise on chris’ face is evident. he’s cautious, looking all around him. “are you insane? we are not breaking into a community center right now.”
y/n leans on the door with her arms across her chest. “scared?”
“very much, yes.” he looks at her with something incredulous in his eyes. “don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight.”
she rolls her eyes. “i promise you this isn’t the first, tenth or hundredth time i’ve done this.” she moves to stand directly in front of him then. “it’s a jersey teen rite of passage. we’ll be fine.”
he looks unsure, but he’d be kidding himself if he thought he could ever say no to her. the way she’s looking at him, with wide, sparkling eyes and plump, glossy red lips stretched into a smile that makes his heart thud. he’s a goner. already.
“fine.” he says, despite his better judgement. “lead the way, miss criminal.”
she just laughs as she pulls him inside. the sound makes him think that everything could go to shit in a matter of minutes, and it would all be worth it.
***
the sounds of their foot steps echo through the abandoned space. y/n leads chris through the darkness with expertise, helping him dodge strewn about chairs and walls that he nearly smacked into several times.
she’s giggling like a mad woman, making chris’ lips freeze in a permanent smile at the sound. when they get to where she wants to be she stops and tells him to close his eyes.
he hears the sound of a switch or two, and when he opens his eyes he’s met with a giant community sized pool and some bleachers in front of it. there’s a couple overhead lights, some benches lining the sides of the pool. it looks exactly like what you’d picture a rec center pool would look like.
the thing that catches his eyes though is the graffiti that paints the walls around him. vibrant colors and designs that are so intricate he can’t even wrap his head around it. he’s in awe. when y/n comes to stand in front of him, he looks from the wall to her still dumbfounded.
“this is fucking sick.” he travels to see the art up close, running his hands along the pictures. there’s a flurry of random images with a distinct style chris could never figure out the name for, but all his eyes and brain can register is that it’s fucking beautiful. “have these always been here?”
y/n is looking at the wall with nostalgia swirling through her irises. “kind of. there were a bunch of random additions over the years and it just became this big piece. heard the artist got caught a bunch of times but nothing could stop them.”
chris scoffs. “um, yeah, if i was this good at anything artistic i’d draw that shit on everything too.”
she laughs, turning to him with a mischievous look. he raises an eyebrow at her, questioning what the look was for. she doesn’t say anything, just leans down and starts taking off her shoes.
chris watches her with raised interest, heartbeat speeding up when she gets to the hem of her shirt. “i’m confused on the signals i’m getting right now.”
she shrugs, “strip.”
and with that she pulls of her top, exposing her deep red bra. chris’ eyes trace the valley of her chest and even though he feels like a dick, he can’t help it. he already thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d seen clothed, so her stripping in front of him wasn’t doing him or the pants he was wearing any favors. not to mention that moment in the car was constantly burning through his brain, making him hear. for her touch.
her skirt is off in the next second, and she’s looking at chris like he’s missing an opportunity. “are you gonna stand there and creep on me or are you gonna take your clothes off?”
he’s snapped out of the trance he was in and sends her a sheepish grin. “i’m still kinda lost on what we’re doing right now.”
y/n walks to him slowly, hair fanning out around her shoulders. chris find his hands itching to bury themselves in it, pulling, grasping or even just playing with it softly. when she’s right in front of him, he looks down at her. the sight nearly knocks him off his feet. she’s peering up at him through her eyelashes, eyes dark and sensual, mouth quirked up in a sinful smile. she brings her hands to the waistband of his cargo pants, toying with the button.
chris is hot all over. he can’t do anything but keep his eyes on her hands, following their every move. she pops the button with ease, “do you want me to do all the work or..?”
chris’ voice is shaky as he blows out a breath. “i mean kind of, yeah.”
“i think you’ve got it under control,” she says, voice like honey. “can you finish for me?”
it should be embarrassing how fast chris steps out of his shoes and shows his pants down to his ankles. he’s hoping his dick isn’t standing straight up because he’d probably try to drown himself.
when he’s down to his boxers, y/n trails a nail up his chest and puts her lips to his ear. “good boy.” he shudders, then questions himself cause what the fuck? but then he mentally shrugs because he knows that anything that fell out of her mouth would turn him on. “i really hope you can swim.”
the words register a second too late, because chris is suddenly submerged in water before he can even think to say anything. he hears y/n’s cackle on the way down, and can feel the break of water as she jumps in after him.
he pushes to the surface with a glare, splashing her as soon as she emerges. “you’re evil,” he says, huffing. “you distracted me.”
she splashes him back with a wide, genuine smile. “you’re a guy. distracting a child would be harder.”
chris rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to lunge at her through the water. she squeals, manically laughing as he chases her around. they spend the next however long slashing each other and trying to dunk each other under water without getting too close to be grabbed.
y/n doesn’t know the last time she felt this good around a guy. the last time she was so allowing to have someone in her space. it makes her stomach turn in a delicious, tantalizing whirl of want.
chris catches her off guard finally, wrapping his arm around her waist as she tries to get away. he pulls her to him and she turns, taking it upon herself to get as close as possible. they’re treading water, looking at each other in the eye.
it feels like they’re having a conversation without saying the words, and y/n is terrified chris can hear her heart beating in the silence. he reaches up, tucking a wet strand behind her ear. the moment is oddly tender. “you’re beautiful.”
he says it so concretely that it makes her stomach (among other places) clench. like there was no room for debate. it’s probably the shyest she’s been all night when she looks down at the distorted sight of their legs underwater.
like a mind reader, chris nudges her burning cheek, making her look up. he’s close as he can be but still giving her space. he searches her eyes for a moment, before he starts to say something. “i-“
y/n is looking at him, waiting for him to finish but ultimately he doesn’t. “fuck it.” is the only thing he says before slotting his lips perfectly over hers.
it’s instantaneous, the way her body suctions itself to his. his right hand is gripping the base of her throat hotly, his other hand in her hip. her hands are in his hair and she’s moved to wrap her legs around his waist.
they’re pulling at each other like they’ve been apart for years. it’s desperate and needy, the way chris trails his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking on any part of skin he can see. the way she tugs roughly at his hair to pull him back up to her lips, like she can’t stand to be away from them for a second.
it’s the hottest thing either of them have literally ever experienced and she strongly believes that she’s about to fuck this man right here, right now.
only, they can’t, because there’s a sudden slam of a door and a jingle of keys. “hey! you can’t be in here!”
they pull apart instantly, and y/n’s eyes widen. “oh shit, we gotta go.”
“what the fuck—“ chris looks like a deer caught in headlights, but y/n has been through this way too many times to let them be caught.
she’s pulling chris’ arm with an iron grip to the side of the wall their clothes are at. “let’s fucking go, chris.”
it takes all of two seconds for him to move with her instead of against her. they pull themselves up the wall as the security guard moves from the open door with haste. y/n can’t help but laugh as chris fumbles around with his shit, almost slipping and falling to the ground.
“is that you, y/n?” the guard says, and she can feel chris’ confusion. she doesn’t stop though, continuing her escape with chris in row. “damn kids.”
“you’re fucking insane,” chris says through his own laugh because well, he can’t fucking believe this night. can’t believe this girl.
“little bit!” she calls over her shoulder as the guard chases them around the border of the pool. they run to the door in the other direction, bursting through to the arctic air.
“oh my fucking god my balls are shriveling up i can feel it.” chris says as they run barefoot, soaking wet and freezing cold.
they make it across the parking lot, all the way to chris’s car by the time the guard is at the back door, throwing their clothes and themselves in haphazardly.
chris shakes as he blasts the heat and slams on the gas. he’s out of the space in record speed, driving on to the main road a little fast until they’re a safe ways away. he looks over at her, and she’s already looking him. they burst out in the most insane, bizarre bout of laughter.
they look ridiculous. wet hair and in their underwear, shaking like falling leaves. it’s comical and unbelievable and they would never want to be anywhere else.
“god i was kidding when i called you a criminal but you really fucking are,” he shakes his head. “he knew your name and everything.”
“hey!” she says, holding her hands up. “there’s not much to do around here. sneaking into here was like a weekly routine when i was in high school.”
“my little jailbird. what the hell am i gonna do with you?” there’s a glint to his eyes and she shivers again, not from the cold.
she ignores the feeling and points up ahead to a small alley. “you’re gonna pull in there so we can put our fucking clothes on. i’m freezing.”
“completely your fault, by the way.”
“blah, blah, blah.” she looks at him while he focuses on the road. the smile that spreads on her lips makes her skin heat. “pull over.”
and he does.
***
it’s a little while later and chris and y/n sit in his backseat, joint being passed between them, now fully clothed.
y/n lays with her back pressed up against the back left door, legs outstretched and wide with chris laying between them. the weight of his ribs on her hips is heavenly, and all she’s been thinking about for the last ten minutes is how it’s not close enough.
her hand is resting at the top of his head, lazily twisting a strand of hair around her finger. chris hums every so often, body slouching down more into her body heat.
“hey,” he says. “tell me something true.”
she takes a long hit, holding the smoke in before exhaling. “i’m high as bones right now.”
they share a giggle, before chris swipes the joint from her fingers. “i said true, not obvious.”
she shrugs, watching the smoke around them swirl. “it’s both, actually.”
he shakes his head, looking up at her from his place on top of her. “seriously.”
she thinks for a minute. there’s one thing she can think of, but for some reason it feels embarrassing. the way chris is looking at her though, completely enthralled with low eyes makes her not care. “that was my graffiti at the pool.”
chris flounders for a second, mouth dropping open in slow motion. he moves slowly, but it feels abrupt. he spins his body so his back is now facing the other door. she misses his body weight already.
“no fucking way?” his eyes are as wide as they could possibly be, considering how intoxicated they both are.
y/n just shrugs, pulling the last hit and leaning forward to place the filter in an old pepsi can in the front seat. “not a big deal.”
chris scoffs incredulously. “not a big deal? not a big deal?” he shakes his head, his mop of hair bouncing. “you lied to me.”
“about what, exactly?”
“i asked you what your thing was. you told me you didn’t have one.” he gives her a pointed look. “that’s a pretty big thing to have.”
“i haven’t done any art in years,” she argues. “so not really my “thing” anymore.”
he won’t let it go and she has no idea why. a couple random pieces she did out of teenage rebellion were so far back in her brain that it wasn’t even a factor. it’s been years since she even drew anything.
“well get back to it,” he says. “cause that’s not the type of thing you just stop doing. you’re fucking incredible, y/n.”
the authenticity in the words makes her shift uncomfortably. she doesn’t know how to take it and she damn sure doesn’t know what to make of him staring at her like she was pablo picasso reincarnated. it was kind of freaking her out.
“yeah, yeah.” she says, because it’s all she can.
“i’m serious. you’re so talented.” he moves his face directly in front of hers. his eyes trace the expanse of her face so delicately, it makes her want to been seen by him always. “so fucking perfect.” he whispers.
the words fill her with a softness she doesn’t think she’s ever felt. he really means it. she can tell by how honest his eyes are and how tightly he’s gripping on to the spot right above her knee. she doesn’t know how to thank him, so she connects their lips as a sign. he takes it immediately. they stay like that for a couple moments, learning the ins and outs of each others mouths, languidly kissing.
then, she’s back to being on top of him, but with a fire igniting in the pit of her stomach. she’s grinding her hips down into him, chasing those pretty noises he makes at the back of his throat. she’s breathing heavily, mewls falling from her lips as he sucks a particularly deep bruise into her neck.
“your pace,” he says through a groan. although it almost physically pains him, he slows her hips. she whines, chasing the friction like a woman on a mission. “whatever you want.”
“what do you want?” like a brat, she removes his hands, rolling her hips sinfully slow. chris almost chokes on his own spit.
“just want you.”
it makes her dizzy, the desperation in his voice. she needs him now. “well you have me,” for the second time tonight, she pops open the button of his pants. she places a searing kiss on his lips, making him chase her own when she parts. “now make it count.”
and he does. so much so that y/n has to remind herself several times during it that this man, this moment— is just for tonight. no matter how much she wants differently to be true.
***
“yeah,” y/n says, disoriented and out of breath. “yeah we’re coming.”
chris snorts from his place in the drivers seat. he puts on his shirt, taking a second to run his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.
“already did. several times.”
y/n punches him in the arm, trying to listen to her best friend rattle the location they ended up at. she hums in reply, not really listening as she watches chris watch her, his hand wandering to the flesh of her thighs.
when he gets a little too close to her underwear she clamps her legs shut, sending him a look. he only smirks in reply.
she pulls the phone away slightly. “you’re insatiable.”
he shrugs. “when it comes to you? yeah.”
y/n hears her best friend gasp. “oh my god. you just got finished fucking!”
she can feel the heat rise to her face. “i’m hanging up now.”
“oh my god, bitch!” y/n heard shuffling, no doubt grabbing the attention of her other friend. “y/n fucked chris.”
she can hear a protesting bleh! that sounds like nick over the phone, before squeals fill her ears. she already knows her friends are very much drunk. “goodbye.”
when she hangs up, she turns and slaps chris on the shoulder. he flinches, but he’s laughing nonetheless. “you idiot.”
“what? like you weren’t gonna tell them?”
“yeah, tomorrow.” she emphasizes. “not tonight when they’re surrounded by your drunk brothers in the middle of a bar!”
“trust me,” he says, toothy grin shining. “nick and matt have heard worse.”
y/n rolls her eyes, “slut.”
chris doesn’t do anything but send her a dirty smirk, turning up the music and backing out of the parking lot they were in, weaving through the streets like he’s lived here all his life.
y/n can feel a dreadful weight settle in her gut, thinking that the night was approaching its end. through the silence she studies chris, wondering what he’s thinking. if he felt the connection between them as much she did. if he was just as unwilling to let it go. when they pull up outside the bar, she can see his brothers and her friends standing and laughing loudly outside, waiting for them. she wants to speak, but she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. luckily for her, chris has never been one to stay silent for long.
“so.” he says, looking at her with what she thinks is nervousness. “am i gonna have to beg for your number? cause i have no shame. and i will.”
y/n lets out the breath she’d been holding. he felt it too. of course he did.
she outstretches her hand to which he places his phone into. she types in her contact, but before she presses save, she motions him close to her. “come here.”
she snaps the picture of them, cheeks pressed together sweetly and makes it her picture, sending it to herself as well. when she’s finished, chris grips her face in his hand and turns her to him, placing one last kiss to her lips.
it’s slow and intimate, no trace of tongue or the desperate need from before. it feels like a promise or a nudge towards the future. like this couldn’t possibly be the last one.
“text me. or call me. whatever. i’ll answer for you anytime.” he whispers into her mouth. she snaps a mental picture of the moment.
“i will.” she means it.
she gets out the car then, alerting her eccentric friends of her arrival. she gives nick and matt a brief hug as they pass her on the way to chris’ car, thanking them for keeping her friends safe.
she watches them all the way to the car, waving at chris once more as they pull away. she kind of feels like a piece of herself went with him.
“you have to tell us everything.” her best friend says, but y/n is somewhere far away.
“yeah, i will. tomorrow. for now, let’s get you drunk fucks to bed.”
he’s the only thing she can think about the whole way home.
***
eight months later
there’s a distinct difference in atmosphere between this night and then last is all y/n’s thinking as she pushes through the crowd of screaming girls to the back of the venue.
before, it was a lowkey bar with more drunk customers than excited fans. now, there’s people with band tees and signs, nearly passing out as she watches the band throw guitar picks and drumsticks into the crowd. her leather pants are sticking to her tightly, sweat collecting at the small of her back.
she’d gotten matt’s number from her best friend, texted him and told him that she’d be here tonight. chris had no idea, and while she was excited beyond belief to see him, there was a part of her that was riddled with insecurity that he wouldn’t share the same feelings.
they’d texted consistently for a couple months after that night. the odd phone call every few weeks to catch up. it was never awkward, despite how much time had passed. she missed him all the time when he wasn’t around, so every time they talked it felt so comforting she yearned to be in his presence again.
but then they got busy, and consistent texts turned into a random conversation here and there and a call once in a blue moon. the eventually, it turned to nothing at all. she still thought about him all the time, but she her fear held her back from ever reaching out. she assumed he felt the same. well that, and the fact that the guys’ band had found massive success seemingly overnight. she was happy for him, she just hoped there was still room in his memory and his life for her.
y/n paces around the band’s small dressing room while she waits. the anxiety is eating her alive, building a lump in her throat she’s scared won’t ever go away. she’s half a second away from running out of there and never looking back when the door opens.
and in walks chris, shirt off and slung over his shoulder. his hair is drenched with sweat, dark, baggy jeans low on his waist. the emotion that floods her makes her hands shake, so she wrings her hands together to make it stop. doesn’t work one bit.
chris hasn’t seen her yet, but she sees nick and matt in the entry way at the door, smiling and flashing her a thumbs up before they shut the door loudly. chris looks back the door in confusion.
“where the hell—“
“i’ve been stuck in this room for twenty minutes and you still haven’t noticed i’m here. remind me to never try to surprise you ever again.”
chris’ entire body stills. he looks up slowly, hair on his arms standing at full height. when he sees her, his eyes widen three times their normal size. his mouth opens and closes helplessly, so much so y/n can only laugh at him.
“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
chris doesn’t move from his spot. “i feel like i’m looking at one.”
the eye contact they make is sweltering. all of sudden, the thoughts that had been plaguing her for so long fall away. chris walks to her slowly, like he’s afraid she’s gonna disappear if he moves too fast.
“are you really here right now?” he says, voice full of awe. “i feel like i’m going insane right now.”
she chuckles under her breath. “yes, chris. i’m really here right now.”
the sun opens up in that very room in that moment as soon as chris realizes what’s happening, cause he smiles so wide it looks like it might hurt. he closes the space between and hugs her, lifting her body off the ground.
“chris—“
“what the fuck are you doing here?” he questions, pulling back with his hands on her waist. “not that i’m not glad, i’m just fucking flabbergasted by it.”
y/n’s smile matches his. wide and unrelenting. “well,” she says, pulling a folded up flier out of her bag. she hands it to him, motioning for him to open it. “for this.”
chris’ eyes light up as he scans the paper. he looks at her with so much pride it almost knocks her off her feet. “you have an art show.”
“i do.” she nudges his shoulder. “someone told me once that it was my thing.”
chris wants to kiss her. so badly. he hadn’t seen her in months, hadn’t even spoken to her, but he feels that same thrum of electricity in his veins that he did that night. she looks even more beautiful than before. he can’t take it.
“so that’s why you’re in los angeles?” y/n knows the question is bait. she knows and she wants to keep up the calm and collected ruse really bad, except she thinks she might explode if she doesn’t feel her lips in his very soon.
“yeah,” chris’ shoulders shrug the tiniest bit. “that and this band i like was playing tonight. don’t tell anyone, but i kinda have a thing for the drummer.”
they’re moving closer to each other without even realizing it. chris’ hands have righted their grip on her and she’s about an inch from his face.
he smirks. “mm, good choice. i’ve heard he’s the hottest one.”
“biggest ego too.”
they don’t even have to question it. don’t even have to say the words. chris pulls her to him and closes the gap, his lips finding hers after so long. way too long.
y/n can feel how much he missed her in the way he’s holding her so tightly. she hopes she’s pouring the same feelings into this. kissing chris was like coming home after a hard day to your favorite spot on the couch. she never realized just how much she needed it, never knew how much she missed it until she had it again.
“i missed you.” he says, barely pulling away to say it.
“me too.” she says, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
with one final peck to her lips, chris hesitantly pulls himself away from her. “let me pack my shit and then we can get out of here. it’s my turn to show you around.”
y/n watches him move through the room in haste, dropping shit and bumping into chairs out of pure excitement. her heart swells twice in size, eyes sparkling at the thought of the night to come. she knows this time is different. there was no way either of them was going to let go for a second time.
chris sends her a blinding smile while he packs his backpack and she knows, just knows this man is going to be someone special to her. with the way her heart pounds just by looking at him, he already is.
thank god for boys in bands.
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Fact-Checking│ E. Engstler
pairing: emily engstler x reader
genre: fluff, comedy
warnings: suggestive towards the end but nothing too crazy
word count: 940
summary: emily catches you doing a little bit of your daily fact-checking.
✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
Your amused giggles could be heard over the sound of the shower, grabbing Emily's attention and bringing a smile to her face. She had just returned home from practice and had gone straight to the shower after greeting you with a brief kiss.
Once she finished showering and completed her post-shower routine, Emily returned to the bedroom and climbed into bed next to you, ready to relax. Picking up her book from her bedside table, she got comfortable and began reading.
Emily was only about two pages in when your giggles picked back up. Casting a quick glance your way, she attempted to shake off the curiosity and turn her focus back to the words littering the pages of the book in her hands. However, her efforts were useless.
"What are you looking at?" She questioned after reading the same page over for the fifth time.
"Huh?" Was all you responded with, not tearing your gaze away from your phone.
"What are you looking at that's so funny?"
"Oh, uh, nothing." You shifted your position slightly to keep her from looking at the device in your hands.
"Babe, let me see." She leaned further into your space, only to be met with more resistance from you.
"Nuh-uh. Not happening." You extended the arm holding your phone over the side of the bed away from her.
With a challenging look in her eyes, Emily leaped into action, reaching over for the phone and initiating a wrestling match. You fought against her as best as you could, but with her long arms and tall stature, she confiscated your phone in no time.
"Em, baby, I'm telling you now," You warned her. "You don't want to look at that." She ignored you, settling back onto her side of the bed and examining the contents of your screen. A few moments of silence passed before she finally spoke again.
"What is this?" She questioned, confusion evident in her features.
"A story," You responded warily, watching for her reaction. "Of sorts."
"About me?" She looked taken aback as she continued to take in what she was reading.
"Uh-huh." You nodded.
"And why are you reading it?"
"Why not?" You shrugged. "You're fans have been sending me links to them on Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok for weeks now. I ignored them, at first, but then I got curious. So, I started going through them."
"And?" She finally turned to look at you.
"And then I fell down a rabbit hole. Some of them are actually really good. They are so well-written and creative. It's interesting." You explained. "It's also kinda funny to see some of the things your fans come up with and how they perceive you. I like to consider my daily perusal as fact-checking, you know? To see how accurately they depict you in their writing."
"I'm sure." She tried to seem nonchalant and almost monotone about it, but you knew her and caught the glint of amusement in her eyes.
"Seriously! You should see some of the more R-rated stuff they put out there about you." You wiggled your eyebrows at her. "Very fascinating."
"No thanks." She chuckled, tossing your phone over to you. "The idea actually terrifies me."
"Whatever. You're really missing out." You said, scrolling through your phone. "Look! Here's one. I'll read it to you. Just let me skip to the good part."
"Please don't." She whined, rubbing a hand down her face.
"Her hands drifted lower as she peppered kisses along your neck." You began reading, a smug smirk on your face, aware of the blush spreading across her cheeks. "You released a breathy moan as her lips attached to the sweet spot below your ear. 'Emily', you called out to her. 'Touch me, please.' You-"
"Enough!" She groaned, yanking the phone from your hand and shoving it under her pillow. "Going to sleep now." She turned over and threw the blanket over her head.
Your loud laughter filled the room at your girlfriend's distress. You clutched your sides as they began to cramp from lack of oxygen. Once you finally calmed down, you leaned over and pulled the cover down, revealing her red face.
"I'm glad you find humor in torturing me." She scoffed.
"I'm only teasing."
"So funny." She deadpanned.
"Honestly though," You spoke, "It's kind of cool how dedicated your fans are. They really do love you, Em. Yeah, it might seem kind of weird because it's about you, but this is just their way of connecting with you in their own way."
"Yeah, you're right." She nodded, pulling you down to lay on the bed and cuddling into you. "But, please, don't put me through that again. I don't mind that they write that kind of stuff, or if you read it, but I can't bear to see or hear it myself."
"You sure?" You chuckled at her pleading. "Maybe we could draw some inspiration from some of these. Especially in the bedroom. I meant it when I said some of your fans can get really creative."
"Shut up and go to sleep." She poked your ribs in response to your teasing.
"I really think-"
"Goodnight." She interrupted before you could finish your sentence.
"Goodnight." You chuckled, turning around in her arms. "I love you, Em."
"I love you, too." She leaned in, connecting her lips to yours in a sweet kiss, to which you reciprocated. Sighing happily as you pulled away, you decided to give it a rest for the night, with a promise to yourself to continue your job of being a complete pain in her ass tomorrow after a good night's rest.
✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
a/n: not really sure if i like the way this turned out but whatever. here's some more emily content for you guys.
#emily engstler#emily engstler imagine#emily engstler x reader#emily engstler x y/n#washington mystics#wnba#wnba basketball#isa.writes
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KISS ME MORE .ᐟ
❥. ft. highschool! g. satoru
╰┈➤. it was quite shocking to find out that satoru hasn’t had his first kiss yet. but luckily for him, you’re happy to be his first.
❥. content. bsf! gojo, fluff, he’s down bad, awkward satoru, kissing, f! reader. pretty rushed if u couldn’t tell.
❥. note. yes. im posting this again. this sucks, apologies.
truth to be told, you couldn't believe the words that left his throat. the sound of his voice now distant as that particular sentence ran through your mind. you shifted your weight on his bed, looking dumbfounded. "wait, really..?" you questioned.
you were too engulfed in the sudden confession to notice the slight furrow of his brows, along with a small pout on his glossy lips. satoru shrugged his shoulders and dragged his lanky body towards the edge of the bed before mumbling a soft, "why are you so surprised?”
his eyes were casted downwards behind his glasses, and you knew him too well to know that he was trying to hide his embarrassment.
with a small sigh, you started nudging his back with your sock cladded foot. "it's just that you often brag about your interactions with girls, you know," you started. "but there's nothing wrong with that, toru.”
you were only met with silence, so you took that as your queue to sit beside him. you placed a hand on his thigh and patted it softly. "talk to me, please?" you whined. it would pretty much be an understatement if you'd say you didn't internally cringe at the desperation seeping through.
satoru cleared his throat and finally took his glasses off to look at you. the pout was still evident on his lips and a dust of pink adorned his soft cheeks. he looked adorable but slightly uncomfortable at the same time. "can you keep this between us, please? " he groaned — eyes traveling towards the curve of your lips.
a roll of his eyes was enough to have the giggles erupt from your chest. how can you be so cruel and laugh at him while he's feeling so miserable.
"when have your secrets ever escaped the walls of this room?" you scoffed. he only responded with a throaty hum and soon enough, the quiet ambience draped over you both like a heavy blanket. it wasn't awkward, the only sound being your breathing and the padding of your feet against the wooden floor. and before you could process it, the offer flew past your tongue.
"how about i be the first one you’ve ever kissed?"
sator coughed obnoxiously- chest heaving up and down as he tried to control the rapid beating of his heart. the palms of his hands starting to feel sweaty. yes, he thought you were attractive on multiple occasions, but he didn't think much of it. you were just a friend that's always been there for him. nothing else...
"huh, what." he trailed off, bright blue eyes searching for your own. in need to find something hidden behind them. to tell him that you're obviously joking. but he finds nothing but pure intention in your gaze. the small grin you sent his way, was enough to make him jump up from where he was seated. "i’m fine," he huffed and crossed his arms against his chest.
but the blush that was still there on his cheeks said otherwise. you hummed and laid back down on the mattress, sighing in content as your head rested on his satin pillow. just enough to make you take a nap right there and then. you closed your eyes for a brief moment before you felt the bed dip. you could hear his heavy breathing, as if he had just ran a marathon. “are you doing okay?" you asked, opening your eyes to look up at him.
he was nervous. you could tell by the way he was fidgeting with his slender fingers. with a slight nod, he meekly replied, "does...that offer still stand?"
your lips started to twitch, daring the corners to tilt and shape into a mischievous grin. and you're proud to say that you've seen this coming. if there's a chance, he will definitely take it. "oh?,”you teased— eyebrow raising as you propped yourself up on your elbows. "thought you said you were all fine by yourself?"
the slight flaring of his nose made it hard to contain the snort that was being held in for way too long. with an amused sigh, you finally sat up to rest against his headboard— hand moving swiftly to beckon him over. it was kind of cute with the way he didn't hesitate to move closer; almost like a puppy in desperation of a treat.
"are you sure you want your first kiss to be with me, "toru?" at that, he frantically nodded before deciding on a small "yes." his hands felt clammy as he tugged on the fabric of his sweatpants in anticipation. sure, there were moments where he got excited when he got confessed to, but nothing could've prepared him for what was finally about to happen.
"don't think too much during the kiss," you uttered in a soft tone, "just go along with it and we'll see how it goes from there."
satoru's eyes darted from yours to your lips before settling on your eyes again. they looked so soft and sweet. he couldn't wait to savor the taste. "c'mere," you motioned, placing a hand on his cheek. you were so close, he swore he could count every mole that littered your skin.
the feeling of his lashes brushing your cheek felt like a feather leaving tingles along the way. and with a slight tilt of your head, you finally closed the gap between you both. eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his soft lips. a shuddered breath left his nose while his hand traveled towards the nape of your neck. it started off clumsily, but it was better than you could have predicted. satoru was a fast learner, in almost everything he took part in. the clashing of teeth in the beginning was long forgotten once he got the hang of it.
with a better angle, he deepened the kiss and taking full control only to leave you to try and catch up. it wasn't rushed, just the right pace. you were skeptical about it being the first time for him. it felt like he had some pretty good experience beforehand.
what you didn't expect, was for him to softly tug your bottom lip between his teeth. your hand nestled in his hair, combing your fingers through the white strands. he gently started nibbling till he could feel your swollen lips against his. the breathy groan that escaped his throat was enough for you to pull away.
hair tousled and cheeks flushed, trying his hard to catch his breath. his tongue poked out, sliding across his bottom lip. he could still feel the lingering taste of your chapstick and seeing your mixed saliva on your lips, only made him want to kiss you more and hard.
millions of thoughts ran through your mind. trying to comprehend how this could be his first time kissing someone. must he be good at everything?
"you're a liar, satoru gojo." you pointed an accusing finger at him. "you know i hate liars."
his eyebrows shot up in confusion, mouth agape as he stared obliviously, "what do you mean?"
with a harsh roll of your eyes, you added," you obviously lied about not kissing someone before. what else could i possibly mean?"
"huh? i'm not lying, pinky promise!"
you scoffed, eyeing him up and down skeptically.
"did you practice with your poster or something?" you sure hope not.
a beat of silence was all you needed to know that he did in fact, practice with his poster. your face morphed into one of sheer horror. the thought alone made you shake your head, trying to get rid of the image of him slobbering against a piece of paper.
"please tell me it wasn’t with that old thing." you pointed with your chin behind him, where an old, winkled poster was taped against the wall.
an awkward chuckle was all he could muster, before grabbing your hand in his. "don't tell suguru or shoko, please," he begged— big blue eyes staring in your soul. "they wouldn't let me live this down."
you hummed in thought, "under one condition, though." satoru squeezed your hand to let you know he was listening. " i want one more kiss."
the sentence barely escaped your lips before he captured them again. this time more confidently and deeply as if he was longing for them. eagerly swallowing every pretty sound daring to slip through.
satoru thinks he should kiss you more often, as long as you choose to keep his secret between the very own walls you have your make out sessions in.
©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
#—sinnie posts ♡#☆ —jjk!#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jjk x reader fluff#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader fluff#gojo x reader fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo fluff
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pleaseee kisses prompts 14, 15, and 33 with patrick zweig 🙏🫠
Sure :D
Prompts: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it; a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished; a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.
Warnings: Fluff; flirty Patrick; fake dating; smooches
Summary: Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.
"Would you cut it out?"
"No." Patrick's refusal was muffled as he chowed down on another two mini crab cakes. You glanced around nervously, concerned that anyone you knew might see your plus one shoving every hors d'oeuvre that he could get his hands on into his mouth.
Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.
The trade was straightforward: Patrick was your plus one to your friend's wedding, and you let Patrick shower at your place and crash at yours (or cover the cost of a motel for the night—he was cool with either).
But now, you were considering cutting ties early. If Patrick kept this up, then it defeated the whole fricking purpose of having him go with you in the first place. You didn't think that anything could be more embarrassing than showing up to a wedding alone while your ex was attending with his new girlfriend, but the way Patrick was stuffing his face was quickly proving you wrong.
"Seriously," You hissed, leaning in and elbowing him in the side, "You're either gonna choke, or I'm going to choke you."
Patrick grinned as he chewed, dusting off his fingers.
"Okay," He agreed before chasing the swallow with a swig of his beer. "Okay, you're right. I'll slow it down."
"Thank you."
"Need to save room for dinner, anyway. And cake. Are people still doing cake at weddings?"
"Sometimes."
"You think they will?"
"Honestly, they seem more like a dessert bar couple. They'll probably have a little cake for themselves."
"Explains why I haven't seen one." He folded his arms on the high table, glancing around the others mingling at cocktail hour. "Seen the ex yet?"
"No."
"You should've shown me a picture, I could keep an eye out for him, too."
"Better if you don't know what he looks like. Then you can be genuinely surprised if I introduce you."
"You don't trust my acting abilities?"
"With all due respect, you could be Ted Bundy 2.0 for all I know."
"Fake cast and missing puppy story not included."
You smiled in spite of yourself, and Patrick grinned.
"Tell me about yourself," He urged.
"What for?"
"Gotta pass the time somehow—especially if you're going to poo-poo me from the pu pu platter."
"There isn't a pu pu platter in sight."
"Can you just appreciate the joke?"
"It was a fine joke."
"C'mon. I mean, you're funny, you're gorgeous," He raised his hand, waving toward you, "Why does someone like you need to surf Tinder to find a plus one?"
You smiled, looking down at your drink.
"First of all, thank you."
"Anytime."
"Second of all...I don't know, since my ex left me I've been focusing on myself."
"No hoe phase?"
"Hoe—ly shit, you seriously talk to people you don't know like that?" You scoffed.
"I just mean, you know. Sometimes after a breakup, you wanna fuck around a little. Nothing wrong with that. It would explain why you're on Tinder."
"Oh? Is that you're on Tinder?"
"Honestly? No."
"Why, then?"
Patrick shrugged. "I like sex and sometimes I have trouble finding somewhere to sleep."
"How's that working?"
"Better than you'd think."
"Does the sex thing always happen?"
"Not always. I'm happy to crash on a couch."
"Mm."
"Not that I mind it when it happens. Thanks for answering my question, by the way."
"What do you mean?"
"About the hoe phase. You just said 'the sex thing' like it's a creature from the black lagoon."
"I did not—" You began to wind up for the next round of argument, but were cut off by the sound of your name being called. You winced, steeling yourself and urging, "Don't look."
"That the ex?"
"Yes."
"Perfect," Patrick stood up straighter, straightening his jacket. "Showtime."
"You sound way too excited—"
"Hey!" Your ex spoke up behind you, and you slapped a smile on, wheeling around and greeting, "Jeremy, hi!"
"How's it going?" Jeremy began to lean in for a hug, but went still when Patrick curled his arm around your waist. Your stomach flipped at the gesture, keeping your eyes carefully trained on Jeremy's face.
"It's going great, how are you?"
"It's good, it's good."
"Where's Francesca?"
"Oh, she's grabbing a drink."
"Awesome."
"You want another one, baby?"
Patrick's question threw you for a loop for a second, but you shook your head, smiling.
"I'm good, hon, but thanks."
"I don't think we've—met?" Jeremy's voice tipped up, and you had to fight off a laugh.
"I don't think you have. Jeremy, this is Patrick."
"Hi."
You watched Jeremy hold his hand out to shake, but Patrick just tightened his grip on your hip, drawing you a little closer as he offered, "Nice to meet you."
Jeremy's smile faltered as he drew his hand back, tucking it into his pocket.
"You two been together long?"
"Oh, gosh, a few months," You flubbed.
"How'd you, uh—How'd you meet?"
"At a match. I'm a tennis player."
"Oh! You any good?" Jeremy asked.
"He's the best," You answered without missing a beat.
Patrick chuckled softly, nose nudging against your cheek. "You're gonna make me blush, sweetie."
"Good," You smiled at him. A thrill shot through you as Patrick's eyes dipped to your mouth, and before you knew it, he was leaning in for a gentle kiss. You let your eyes slip closed, your lips working tenderly against his. Patrick's hand slid from your hip, sliding lower and palming your ass. You drew back, giving Patrick a warning look before turning to look at Jeremy again as he cleared his throat.
"I should go find Francesca."
"Sure! It was great seeing you."
"You, too—and nice meeting you, Patrick."
"Charmed," Patrick cooed. The two of you watched him turn, disappearing into the crowd.
"...That was good, right?"
"Yeah, it was good...Patrick?"
"Yeah?"
"Get your hand off of my ass."
"Sure." He gave it a pat before turning back to the table, eyeing a passing server's tray. "Is that shrimp cocktail?"
--
"That wasn't so bad."
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Little bit of both." Patrick leaned against your front hall wall. You took him in for a moment, taking in his loose tie, and his jacket where he was holding it over his shoulder.
"I think we were very convincing, so," You tipped your head from side to side. "You're right. It wasn't so bad. Thank you."
"Hey, sure. You can just venmo me."
"What?"
"For the motel."
"Oh! Oh, of course." You fished into your purse for your phone, biting your lip. To be honest, you'd been rethinking that particular part of the plan all evening. You hated to admit it, but Patrick was gorgeous, and had been so goddamn charming. He'd been funny, had made conversation with the other guests at your table, and he'd been perfectly affectionate—kisses on the cheek, the lips; a hand on your back, your waist. A time or two, he'd gazed into your eyes in a way that had felt so sincere and...Real.
Sure, he'd driven you nuts at the beginning of the evening, but he had grown on you.
"Um," You spoke up. "I was, uh...I was thinking."
"What about?"
"About the sex...Thing." You glanced nervously toward Patrick just in time to see his expression melt into flirty intrigue.
"Oh yeah?" He goaded. "What about it?"
You couldn't just come out and say it, right? You set your phone down on the counter and strode toward Patrick before you could talk yourself out of it. You grasped his rough cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. He went without hesitation, dropping his jacket and curling his arms around you. You groaned softly, sliding a hand up into his hair and letting him steer you back against the wall. You parted your lips as Patrick's tongue probed them gently, his leg slotting between yours and rocking it back and forth.
You rolled your hips down against it, whining softly against his lips as his hands skimmed over your body. Patrick began to draw away, but you leaned up, catching hold of his lower lip with your teeth and giving it a rough bite. His hips jolted against yours, groaning low in his throat as you soothingly slipped your tongue along the skin.
"Do you still want me to Venmo you?" You asked.
"Not really. You still want me to crash on the couch?"
You hummed, pretending to contemplate before you let your hand slide from his curls to his neck.
"How about we start on the couch."
#Patrick Zweig x Reader#Patrick Zweig x You#Patrick Zweig/Reader#Patrick Zweig/You#Patrick Zweig fic#Patrick Zweig imagine#asks#replies#anon#kiss prompts
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With Spencer
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Requested: no
Summary: Y/N deals with the wave of anxiety that hits her after Spencer's conference
Word Count: 900+
Tags/Warnings: established relationship, anxiety, insecurities
A/N: Had to get this out of my head so I wrote this on a whim, then it sat in my drafts because I was worried it sucked (still am) but @halsteadlover once again threatened to kick my ass (because that's how we communicate love) so I'm posting this. Please do not shoot me if it sucks lol.
SPENCER REID MASTERLIST
You stood off to the side of the spacious conference hall, quietly watching as people approached him after his spotlight presentation.
You’d have been able to spot him anywhere he was standing even if the place was twice as crowded as it was now.
There seemed to be something that had drawn you to him almost automatically since the first time you met, and he seemed to emit a glow that only you could see.
Spencer raised his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours effortlessly, and he smiled softly at you before his attention was drawn back to the person next to him.
You couldn’t help the small smile that flit across your face, accompanied by the familiar flutter in your gut that only Spencer managed to make you feel.
At the same time, a darker swirl of insecurity seemed to rise up to meet the innocent butterfly flitting around in your stomach.
It wasn’t new. This feeling of being inadequate next to Spencer, the feeling that he was made for greater things and that maybe somehow you were holding him back. It was totally irrational but the thought still greeted you once in a while. Sometimes it reared its head when he made a joke that you didn’t totally get or when he started rambling and you lost him halfway. But even if that wasn’t it, personally watching him stand up in front of an entire conference hall and deliver facts and research you didn’t fully grasp would definitely do it.
You didn’t know how long you stood there, lost in your thoughts while trying to keep the dark swirl of anxiety as controlled as possible.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect to take so long.”
His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you smiled back at him, although the look in his eyes told you that he knew something was up.
Spencer didn’t ask, merely smiling as he let you lead the way out of the hall and to the car.
It was about halfway through the car ride back that you realized you’d been a little too quiet. But that realization was too late.
“You okay?” Spencer asked quietly.
You looked up into his hazel eyes and tried a smile.
Spencer didn’t say anything, his eyes flicking back to the road before he made a deviation in his route and you raised your eyebrows.
“Caffeine replenish.” He said quietly, as if he could read your mind.
You watched Spencer as he stood at the counter, letting the intrusive thought of ‘maybe coming with him wasn’t such a great idea’ creep into your head.
When Spencer had asked if you wanted to come, all you’d thought about had been how happy you were that he wanted you there, and about how you’d take any extra time you could spend with Spencer before work whisked him away again.
You wondered if you would still have come if you’d known how you would be feeling now. Yet, something told you that you would have. Nothing would have deterred you from time with Spencer.
That thought was merely reinforced when Spencer slid into the seat opposite you, armed with your favorite coffee order.
After a short silence, Spencer broke it. "You okay?"
You nodded, then you shrugged realizing how futile it was to try to hide your emotions from your profiler boyfriend who was sitting opposite you.
You looked back down at your coffee, and sighed.
“You were amazing today, Spence. Really amazing.”
Spencer smiled back at you, the shy smile that seemed to be reserved just for you and you felt your heart flutter once again.
“You are amazing. And I just… well, I’m not.”
Spencer blinked back at you.
“Actually, recent studies have shown that couples are indeed more likely to be similar than different, but it also shows that other than similarities, complementary skills and features are just as important…” He paused mid-sentence. “I’m rambling again, right?”
You couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“What I’m saying is, you are amazing.” Spencer concluded.
Now, it was your turn to blink back at him.
“You have no idea. I can explain a lot of things, Y/N. But I can’t explain this. I can’t explain why we fit together like the last two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t seem likely but are actually the only two pieces that are supposed to be together. We just are.”
You ran your finger across the rim of your mug and Spencer reached out for your hand, taking it and playing gently with your fingers, almost like a habit.
“We are meant to be, crazy as that sounds coming from me.” Spencer laughed as he said it.
You let out a small chuckle.
“So don’t…” Spencer said, his voice dropping lower just slightly as his voice trailed off.
You glanced up now, unable to miss the crack of slight insecurity in his voice and you realized he was just as scared as you were.
Spencer smiled. "See? Similarity."
Sliding your hand out of his grasp momentarily, you made your way to sit by him in the small corner booth, sitting as close as you could before you slipped your hand back into his.
“I could never.” You whispered, in response to the sentence Spencer hadn't been able to bring himself to finish.
Spencer didn’t answer, just leaned toward you, taking your face gently in his hands as he pressed his lips against yours, almost like he was sealing a deal. You smiled against his touch, pulling closer to him, before you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck.
The dark swirl was still there in the pit of your stomach, although it was slightly muted, but somehow but it didn’t matter because Spencer was here as well.
And as long as you had Spencer, the dark swirl had nothing on you.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
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#resa.fics#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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NCT Dream when they choose their best friend over their girlfriend.
AN: At first, I thought that this was about a girl best friend bec. that's much worse LMAO but oh well, guy friends are kinda frustrating too.
Mark Lee
Mark would probably tell you that you shouldn't overthink about it whenever he hangs out with his friends. Mark knows to himself that he's been a good boyfriend to you. He takes you on dates and keeps his promises, and this is the only time he choses his best friends over you. He hopes that you can be understanding with the situation but it seems like you didn't like that he's choosing his friends over you. Mark would still probably go to his friends but your argument will haunt him throughout the day.
Huang Renjun
Renjun thinks that you're being irrational. Look, he loves you and he's really REALLY lucky to have you as his girlfriend BUT it just happens that it's his best friend's birthday, he already made plans with his friends and yours was a last minute plan. Renjun thinks that you're being unfair with him and you would probably sulk at the thought of it. Since you couldn't win over his argument you let him be, but you will be so frustrated because he's having fun with his friends while you're sulking over a small thing.
Lee Jeno
Jeno would be such an understanding boyfriend. He'll calmly nod and listen to your frustration especially the many times he ditched you because he hangouts with his friends or when you two are together, but he's busy playing games with his friends. You knew his friends but you couldn't help but waver the thought that you don't have Jeno's full attention. He promises you that he'll make it up to you but deep inside he just hopes that he doesn't have to choose between you and his friends.
Lee Donghyuck
Haechan would shrug off your frustration. He thinks that you're being petty and your jealousy to his friend is kinda cute. It'll frustrate you more because he's not taking your frustrations seriously. You'll probably have to tell him that you're serious and he'll tell you that he is serious about what he said too. He will straight-up say to you that you're being petty and there's nothing wrong with him hanging out with his friends. He lets you hangout with your friends so why can't he?
Na Jaemin
Jaemin understands where you're coming from but at the same time, he thinks that you're being petty with your frustration. He thinks that there's nothing wrong with what he is doing. He still gives you his attention and would chat you whenever he's hanging out with his friends. He would probably talk to you about his side and would tell you that he cherishes his friends as much as he loves you and he doesn't want to be that kind of friend that someone loses because of a relationship.
Zhong Chenle
When you open up to Chenle your worries about him spending too much time with his best friend, the first thing he'll do was laugh at you. He'll probably take it in a light manner and would tease you about it. But once he realized that you're not responding to his teases, it was something serious. So his attitude shifted to something serious. He convinces you that there's nothing wrong with it and you're just being dramatic with the situation. And as much as you try to justify your answer, he quickly dismisses it.
Park Jisung
He would also be frustrated that you're frustrated over his best friend. He thinks that you're being unfair with the situation just because he cancelled ONE date of yours and decided to hangout with his broken-hearted best friend. He would probably list down the times that you ditched him for your friend and this wasn't your point, but you two would probably ended up in a heated argument about your frustration.
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct angst#nct dream angst#nct dream reactions#nct dream imagines#nct drabbles#nct mark#nct jeno#nct renjun#nct haechan#nct jaemin#nct chenle#nct jisung
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How I'm Looking At You, Part 1
Summary: You were long considered a spinster. Your family was desperate for money, and you were their only option. Sending you to work for a newcomer who was not part of the Amish community was risky, and it brought forth the gossip. Ari didn't seem to care what others thought about him, but he did care what they thought about you. Making your innocent crush and close proximity a bit more...harder. But can you convince him and yourself that the feelings are worth it? But what if it is just a crush? Do you even care anymore? Or are you ready to risk it all and leave the community?
Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings: gossip, questioning religious teachings, language, sexual tension, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Ari takes a deep breath as he looks around. A whole lot of nothing. Land as far as the eye can see, neighbors weren’t close. He is in over his head. It was a great deal, and it made sense at the time, but now that he has sweat dripping down his face, blisters on his fingers, and more sun on his neck that his mom would deem necessary he realizes this was just a dumb idea.
The outside of the homestead is one thing, but the inside is unkempt and a complete disaster. He didn’t even know where to begin. Overwhelming didn’t even seem a strong enough word to describe the mess he is in. It is getting lonely out here, and the farmhands he hired aren’t helping much on the home or the kind of loneliness he feels. Life out here is different.
“I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” Jacob, one of the more vocal boys that Ari hired. Ari didn’t need anything that this life could bring him. In fact everyone here would probably shit themselves if they knew how much he is worth. Sometimes you just need an escape from the city life. “You look like you’re gonna melt away.”
“I’m thinking,” Ari gruffs out. The outside is fine. It is looking great, and the only reason he is even out here helping is his doctor told him stress was going to kill him. How is this not stressful?
“What’re you thinking about?”
“What do you know about keeping a house?” The young man stares at Ari awkwardly before looking at the other two men confused. They shuffle around nervously, looking down at the tilled land, “Did I say something?”
“I don’t think you understand the roles here,” Ari shrugs his shoulders, and the two boys that he couldn’t be bothered to learn their name since they didn’t talk to him before return back to their work.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“I don’t think what I’m suggesting will happen,” Ari squirts as he looks at the vastness of the land. He’d take any suggestion at this point, or whatever he had to offer.
“I don’t need suggestions, I asked to be enlightened.”
Jacob points to himself, but starts scratching his head after, “We don’t do housework. That’s for the women.”
“So I should find a woman to hire for the house,” the other boys start to chuckle, but remain working. “I think I missed something.”
“It won’t help,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders, as he grabs up his tool.
“Why?”
“If you think you’re going to get a married woman in a single English man’s home, you’re crazy. If you think you’re going to get an unmarried woman in a single English man’s home, you’re insane. Nobody would ever let their wife or their daughter in your home.”
Ari closes his eyes slowly. This way of life is confusing for him. He doesn’t want to tie a woman up in his bed and have his way with her, well — no, he wants help for his home. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“Have you looked at yourself? You’re like a man from the forbidden books. You bring out lustful thoughts in a woman. How are they to remain pure when there’s an English man that embodies everything they’re not supposed to have?”
“I don’t know how to use my stove though,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders. He didn’t see how any man would let a woman in his life ever be in Ari’s home. Especially not alone. “If I were to try, where would one go look for a woman that is unwed and needs a job?” The other boys laugh again, but Jacob points out into the distance.
“There’s only one person I can think of. A family that only had one daughter, no sons. They’re…well, they could use some charity. Their farm is quite small,” Ari hears one of the boys whistle, and chooses to ignore them. “She works at the general store.”
It isn’t the most ideal place to look, but it is the only one for now. What is the worst they could say? No. “You boys got this here?” All three give him a nod, there is so much nodding with everyone here, and he starts walking to his truck. He wasn’t going to go the horse drawn carriage route with transportation. And this isn’t a flashy truck. Old and rusty, and now he had a bit more hope of finding help for the inside of his farm. Maybe.
You can hear the giggles from the front of the general store. It was always about you, and they never tried to hide the way that they giggled and carried on about you. You weren’t supposed to gossip, and yet they always did about you. You were told you were too old to wed, and you weren’t a man and couldn’t help your father on the farm. And you weren’t the most demure because you spoke to everyone, and no matter what you did it was never right. And everyone wanted to point it out.
All you can bear to do is hold your head up high and try not to let the giggles and the random sound of your name off their sinning mouths to not affect you. Unfortunately it did every time, deep into your heart. You didn’t have friends, except the people that come into your store, and it made you long for something besides loneliness.
You wished you would have taken off long ago, but your parents didn’t deserve that. You had dreams of getting married young and having lots of little boys to help your father out. Had told your parents you could do the labor, but they felt you were better suited here. So hear you stay constantly hearing the drone of pious women being anything but that.
It is all politics and a game, and you quite frankly were sick of it. Sick of the constant need to be perfect as a human when it was literally impossible. So instead you pretend as if this is the life that you wanted. Living in a modern world, but acting as if you’re in the past. If anyone knew about your thoughts on wanting to break free, you’d be shunned, and you just couldn’t afford that.
It isn’t too often that you hear a rumble of an old Ford truck nearby, or the slamming of a door, or the fact that the giggling stops, and you see a gaggle of young women start to waddle away from the general store. And you can’t help but think, good riddance. The fact that they wanted to linger here while they whispered and giggled about your life that didn’t interfere with theirs is cruel. You always had to be the peak of perfection, while they were marking off the commandments like it was their job.
Booming footsteps isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the man that walks through the general store door, and you have a combination of looking too long and needing to look away immediately. Your eyes dart to his face, and then the countertop. Studying him and the wood grain in equal amounts.
Noticing the sticky sheen on his skin, and the random droplets of sweat dragging down his neck. Noticing his hair damp with said sweat, and still looking so fluffy. He walks over to a cooler, and pulls out a bottle of soda. Doesn’t bother to pay for it first, just pops the top, and leans his head back. His Adam’s apple moves with every gulp, and you know you look too long because his dark blue eyes shift towards you, and he winks.
Looking down at the counter, heat courses up your neck. Swirling around your ears, and your throat tightens. You need water. Even alcohol at this point. You had stolen a few sips before, and always heard it helps in situations such as these. Something is happening to your body that you just can’t explain, and you can’t even glance at him anymore.
“Ma’am?”
“Mhmm,” your response comes out whispered and pitiful, and you’re still unable to meet his gaze. A sudden urge to sit down, and let your body curl into itself pops up, and you need an exit. Air. Air would be really nice right now.
“I want to pay for the soda, but also a few more. My hired hands would like a treat,” why did the word hands sound so — delicious? Does that even make sense?
“Sure,” your body goes on autopilot as you start to ring him up. Still not daring to look at him. You’d crack, you just know it. You would be a puddle on the floor if you even tried. “Are you new?” How that sentence was even able to come out of your mouth is a mystery. Your throat is so dry and in need of rehydration immediately.
“Yeah. I bought the old Yoder farm, right at the edge of the town,” of course he did. The most coveted of farms, and even that is a sin. Too big of a farm for a single man. Did he mean to convert? Or was it too good of a purchase to not make the investment?
“That’s actually why I’m here. Darling, you think you can look at me?” Oh. Hearing a name usually saved for your parents to use for you, sounds very different from his silky voice. Your eyes shift up to look at him, and he’s even more handsome close up. You shouldn’t be worried about someone’s appearance, but he also should have his buttons done up a bit more. Too much of his gloriously tanned rippling chest is showing. He is all man. And the butterflies that erupt in your stomach makes you recall the gossipers’ talk of you being alone forever.
Those girls would not fare well if the elders knew what they were doing. But seeing this man, and his beard wet with soda, and the heavy feeling in your unseen areas, makes you quickly ask the heaven’s for forgiveness. You didn’t ask for that feeling though, it just happened. Your body is reacting to the way he looks and that close proximity to him.
“Why are you here?”
“I have hired hands for the outside, but the home itself — well it has much left to be desired. I don’t know what I’m doing in an Amish home,” you nod your head, a giddy smirk tickling the edge of your mouth, and he returns the smile. It’s a struggle to continue to look at him with how attractive you find him when he smiles. He’s handsome. Very handsome, “Yeah, I don’t know how to keep an Amish home. So this is very different.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” you didn’t. You didn’t know at all what he was referring to. English people can be so tricky with their words. No need in trying to sway a thought, just be blatantly honest about what you need.
“Well, I hired some boys to take care of the outside. I was needing to hire a woman for the home,” oh. Your sight goes back to the counter, and you shake your head no. “I didn’t even proposition you.”
“Sir, I don’t know if you are aware of our culture, but that would be — no woman should be alone with you,” it is true. It wouldn’t matter if she was married or not, it would be highly frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was asking. But even you being here in this general store, alone with him would be frowned upon. You wondered. “But some of our men are a bit more relaxed than others.”
“Is your husband?”
“I’m not married.”
“So could I hire you? I’d pay double of whatever you’re making here,” tempting. Sinful. And you want it. You wouldn’t have to listen to the gossip of those girls. Gossip would happen, you know it would. But you wouldn’t have to hear it. That sounds lovely. And you could become a ‘fulfilled Amish woman’ because you were keeping up a household. You wouldn’t be a complete failure.
“You’d have to ask my father for permission.”
“Are you not grown?”
Now it’s time for your overly sweet smile. If only he knew how there is a huge part of you that is ready to run away from this life. You are grown, and the fact you are telling another grown human that he had to ask your father for permission is obnoxious. “You truly don’t understand. I will need his permission to be alone in a man’s home. Appeal to his better nature. But yes, I would very much like to be out of here.”
And you want to be around him more. Like a rope that had wrapped around you and was going to jerk you into his thick broad chest. You would very much like that. Maybe a bit too much. You shouldn’t desire and lust after this man, but he is not grown like the boys here.
“So if I talk to your father, and he agrees…”
“What’s your name?”
“Ari Levinson,” my goodness. You need to repent for your body’s misbehavior. But for right now you’re trying not to melt away.
“Yes, Mr. Levinson. I would like to keep your house up.”
“So here’s the kitchen,” you smile kindly as you take everything in. The house is just a bit more grand than most in the area. The land is plentiful. The Yoders’ were a bit more modern, which is why they didn’t do well in this more traditional area.
“And, I really don’t need to explain this all to you, do I?”
“Not particularly,” you answer. Your eyes take in everything. Almost envisioning what a real English home would look like. Peeking into the sitting room, and going back to his really tall and thick stature. Having to look quickly away from him because he is staring too intently at you.
“What time are you wanting me to start working? Are you desiring breakfast?” That was an odd choice of words that you’re using. Desire is something you have been feeling lately, and you don’t fully understand the feelings. Or whatever is happening to your body, you just know that you enjoy looking at him. “Or lunch? Or dinner?”
“All three would be appreciative, but not a requirement,” you give him a head nod, starting to open up cabinets. You cringe. This isn’t how you were taught, but you can’t help it. He was in dire need of assistance, you see. “I apologize, Darling. Maybe I can give you some money, and you furnish the kitchen properly?”
“I would need to.”
“You do whatever you need, Darling. You just tell me what you need me to do,” he keeps using that name with you. You never feel this way when your parents call you that. This weird knot in your stomach that twists and twists, and your breathing isn’t normal. You’re just standing here staring at this man, and that is all.
“Is everything okay? Did I say something? I’m not good at this?”
“No, the um…I’d need to go into town,” shuffling your feet around you try to look at him, and try to ignore the burning in your throat, and between your thighs? What even is this?
“Okay,” that’s all he has to say. And you can’t end it there for several reasons. One of which is because you don’t want him to go. “Darling, you’re going to have to talk to me. I can tell there’s something you need.”
“Town is a few miles away,” he nods. Still not understanding what you’re needing. Did you even understand? “And you need a lot,” he blinks owlishly at you, and you try to swallow a completely dry mouth, “I don’t have a way to get there and bring everything back.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Darling,” that name again. You almost want to start counting how many times he uses it a day. His hand touches your shoulder as he steps past you to grab his keys, and you inadvertently bite your lip. “Can you ride in the truck? Is that allowed? Do I have to get a horse and buggy?”
“A truck is fine,” your voice is so breathless as you follow him towards the outside. Ready to head towards town, and hopefully to get everything you would need.
“I’ve got to tell the boys I’ll be leaving. You go on, and get in the truck,” walking outside with your eyes focused downward, you walk towards his truck. Trying not to look at the boys from the church, but they are most definitely looking at you.
Staring so intently they don’t notice Ari walking right up to them, and Jacob looks too long for Ari’s comfort, “What’s she doing here?”
“I took your advice. She’ll be keeping the house up.”
“Like a wife?” Jacob removes his hat, continuing to stare at you casually getting in his truck. Your eyes are still downcast, and your unmoving face still looking straight ahead and not at the boys. “So her parents agreed to this, and she’s just getting in your car.”
“I just met her and you’re talking about wives. No, I’m taking her to town to get the things she’ll need here. You boys continue to do the work, and I’ll return,” he nods to each of them, and they all gawk as he walks towards the truck, and you give them one solid glance, and they return to their work. Not making it too obvious that they are looking at you.
Opening the truck door, you watch as his thick body hops in. Looking at his legs, and how thick they look sitting down, and you weave your fingers together. Looking down at your own lap when Ari looks towards you, “You seem uncomfortable.”
“They are watching us, Mr. Levinson.”
“Should you not be in the truck with me? And please, call me Ari.”
“You’ll find out soon enough that for a community that teaches against gossiping, they will truly gossip. Carry on,” getting out of the sight of the farm, you feel comfortable enough to sit up. The gossip will always happen, you just learned to accept that. Continuing to glance at him, and you can’t stop. It’s unexplainable, but you aren’t the only one.
His dark blue orbs find a way to look towards you, and even smirks, “Do you only ever wear the dress and bonnet?”
“Just when I’m awake. Why?”
“Is it comfortable?” Not really. But it could be worse.
“It’s not uncomfortable,” you can’t truly be honest. So you feel.
“I see. But you don’t particularly enjoy it,” at least he understood what you meant. “So the women here, they’re job is to learn to keep a house, and then you marry off and do just that?”
“Yes,” it makes it sound so simple, and you almost want to curse what a quaint life you live. You weren’t given the opportunity to have dreams or want more. The dream was to marry, have kids, have your own home. You even wonder if your desires to marry was because you were told that’s what you did.
“Hmm,” he contemplates, paying attention to the road even though he’s more interested in your thoughts on this topic. You didn’t seem to have the same goals as the other people here.
“It’s not a horrible life.”
“I guess not.”
“It has its perks,” you argue. “It’s beautiful out here. We have the ability to ignore the noise that everyone else surrounds themselves in. I might not have the luxury of having my own dreams, but being a wife and mother, and keeping a house up is an honorable life,” it was, if not boring in ways. You never had the chance to explore something more.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But you’re not married. Is there a reason?” You turn to look at him. Actually, look. Had there been a man in the community that looked like him, you might have considered it. This is just silly because now you’re being someone who judges another based on looks. “You don’t have to answer.”
“My father isn’t like most,” you have a good father. Older than most of the ones who had children your age. “I think a part of him didn’t want to see me unhappy. I had a few interested for my hand in marriage, but I didn’t want them, and he didn’t make me Mary them.”
“Why didn’t you want them?”
“It’s easy for men here to get away with their indiscretions. And I don’t want to marry out of duty, or have to bear children with a man I can’t stand to look at. That’s what they all want. Just a wife and her to birth his last name.”
“You mean sex. It’s what most men want.”
“Sex?” You look at him confused, shaking your head, “No, I mean children. Extending your legacy,” Ari chuckles, giving you a devious smile, and your chest constricts. “What?”
“Do you know what sex is?”
“I…I assure you that we’ve been talking too much,” you gulp, wishing that you could arrive in town faster. You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you are sure that you feel like you’re going to combust. There is a thickness in the cab that you can’t explain. A fiery pain that settles below your stomach, and…other places.
“So you don’t?”
“Ari, is this an appropriate conversation?”
“I’m assuming that it’s not, judging by your reaction, but I am now curious. Do you know how bearing children comes to happen?”
“I live on a farm, I’m well aware of how breeding works,” he snorts, and you turn to face him quickly, “What is so funny?”
“That you’re referring to it as breeding. I suppose that’s true, but with humans it can be so much more.”
“What does that mean?” The truck drifts to the side of the dirt road, and your thumbs twiddle nervously. The air becomes even thicker when he leans in closer to you. “Ari?”
“I’ll take it easy on you this time,” what does that even mean? Putting the truck into park, he faces you. “Has anyone, man or woman just made everything in your belly float around? Like there’s this weirdness inside of you, pricking your skin whenever they’re around, and your throat dries up, and you can’t talk, and…”
“Your belly feels empty like you need something to fill something inside of you,” Ari clears his throat, looking down at your lap, watching as your thighs twitch around.
“Yes. Exactly like you need to be filled with something.”
“I feel — have felt that way,” you agree, trying not to let him know that it is in fact him making you feel that way. “But it doesn’t always seem pleasant when the animals mate.”
“I assure you if a man knows what he’s doing it can be very pleasurable to you,” a noise you have never heard before squeaks out of your mouth, and you look down at your lap again. Heat didn’t even describe what you are feeling. A roaring fire or volcano getting ready to erupt, and the need to go to the bathroom to clean yourself is more accurate. What is going on with your body?
“If he knows what he’s doing he can take you to another plane of existence,” Ari has been in this odd town for a few weeks, and not so much as glanced at a woman since. Judging by your reaction you are understanding exactly what he is talking about. He adjusts his pants, turning back to look straight ahead. He is also getting uncomfortable, but not because of you. His uncomfort is himself. Hopefully for the same reasons you appear to wiggle around too much.
“The way he could make you feel without ever — entering your body. It's a pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Learning another person’s body can be fun. It can be paradise.”
“Should we be having this conversation?”
“Probably not. So maybe we keep it to ourselves, and I’ll buy you something besides that dress to wear?” The ideas he has mulling in his mind of what he could put you in, he’s downright ashamed of.
“I could only wear them inside your house.”
“I was only wanting you to wear them for me anyways, Darling,” fuck. He’s fucking fucked. A quick flash of you submissively getting to your knees as he paints your lips with precum comes to his mind. Your mouth slowly opens as you innocently let his cock breach your lips. Looking so pretty as you stare up at him. Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
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#how I'm looking at you#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x you#ari levinson fics#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fic#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans character#red sea diving resort#amish au
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ocean eyes pt. 1
paige bueckers x reader series
synopsis: your family tagging you along as chauffeurs with the divisions of the uconn basketball team won’t be that bad right? having to be stuck in disturbing (yet so tempting) tension with a blondie from the wbb team won’t make this 3-day trip go downhill…maybe?
warnings: none
your younger brother, nathan, is part of the uconn basketball team. he’s a sophomore at uconn, and he’s been doing great there. he tags you along during their games, even on their little parties, even with the uconn wbb team.
the women’s division in basketball is way more popular than what you thought. in fact, it’s way more popular than the mens team. you always laugh at the thought that the women’s team get way more girls than they do.
as the year is ending and summer is starting, all coaches in the basketball field have decided to go on a trip. this is gonna be the biggest trip ever, knowing that both men and womens division will be there.
your parents volunteered to chauffeur an extra vehicle. but being the independent you, you decided to take your own car too. you offered to be a chauffeur as well. you got caught up on your nerves since you would be meeting new people, but who knows? you might end up making good friends with the girls.
PRESENT TIME
it was 6am, everyone was gathered at uconn. cars were ready, luggages were everywhere, girls, and guys everywhere. your mind was still foggy, not being used to this early morning.
the coaches and parents were assigning the seating arrangements for the car rides. as you look at the list, paige bueckers is assigned to your car. her. you saw her often, at your brothers games. the both of you never really talked, only hi’s and heys at each other when your family greeted her.
there was always this tension between the both of you. the tension in where your lips might just crash at each other. besides the point, she is beautiful. you do have a thing for girls here and there, but she makes you so gay.
you can feel her piercing gaze at you. you can’t help but look back, her ocean eyes too beautiful to resist. you open your trunk for her to put your luggage in. kk, azzi, and ice were also joining in your car. you knew them well enough, excited for whats coming in the next days.
paige immediately took shotgun, connecting her phone to the aux because she claims that “she has the best music taste.” well what if she tasted good too?
it’s been 2 hours on the road, all 3 girls at the back were fast asleep. paige was awake, looking at the road ahead of her as the sun rises.
“do you wanna switch? i can drive too, we can pull up to the side.” paige talks to you quietly, not wanting to wake up the people at the back.
“no it’s okay, just keep the aux going. you do have good music taste like what people say.” you chuckle lightly, giving her a small smile as you look at her swiftly.
“i mean, it’s me. i have all kinds of music.” she shrugs her shoulders (🤷♀️).
you hum at her as an approval, focusing your attention on the road.
a few moments later, you hear her mumble something.
“what did you say? is there something wrong, p?” you don’t know how you got that nickname, instincts you guess.
“hmm nothing, you look pretty even if i can tell you’re tired. not used to waking up early huh?”
you blush at her comment, trying to keep in your smile.
after 4 hours on the road, the teams arrived at the resort. it was a beach resort, the sand was white, water was clear, the breeze just felt like summer. the coaches booked two villas, one for the men and the other for the women.
you don’t know how you ended up in a room with paige. well…at least the bed is a queen sized bed…? fuck.
you were in the room when paige suddenly walks in. you turn to look back at her, and you see her smirking.
“what? i didn’t choose this arrangement” you huff, feeling teased by paige. paige laughs, putting her luggage down to go closer to you.
she walks closer to you, grabbing you by the waist.
“maybe you just can’t resist me, baby.” she whispers.
“or maybe, YOU can’t resist me, p.” you move your face closer to hers.
the space between the both of you is so little, lips so close to touching each other.
before you could do anything, kk barges in the room.
a/n: HALUUU 😙 send me in messages and tell me how you like it! send requests too.
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Ghosting
Sungchan x Reader
ANGSTTTTTT SOWWY, fluff at the end, hurt comfort, self doubt, burnout, mentions of twilight
WC: 3k
pt 3 of my lil sungchan series. pt 1, pt 2
YN assumed that all was well in her relationship- situationship? Flirtationship?- the two had gone on their second official date, and hung out plenty of times beside then. She thought she and sungchan were doing great, until he stopped answering his texts.
They had just seen each other before then- he took her out to dinner and bought them milkshakes. He had spent the night in her apartment, as he had grown used to doing, and they fell asleep playing video games on her couch. He had left the morning after after giving her a kiss on the cheek and saying ‘Talk to ya’ later, cutie’
The first day, YN assumed it must be he’s away from his phone- he doesn’t have to respond right away, and she didn’t need him to.
But when another day passed, and then another, YN became skeptical. She began to criticize herself for texting him the usual good morning/good night texts when she got no response. Whe texted him asking if he was alright, but got no response. She asked him if he was going to a party Yunjin had invited her to, but her message was never read. She kept trying, but kept getting nothing. She felt pathetic.
Eventually the days turned into a week, and still no word from sungchan. It confused her- they had been so close for weeks before, why drop her now? A week turned into two weeks, and YN felt herself lose her will to keep trying. Too many texts left on delivered, too little communication to justify her continuing to text a ghost.
Had she done something wrong? She wracked her brain for anything she could’ve done to offend him, or make him upset, but couldn’t think of anything. She wondered if maybe he was talking to someone else or… maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore.
She thought about their times together, their first date that was so perfect she almost thought she dreamed it. Kissing him when he showed up at her door, or when they’d snuggle up on her couch and watch movies they never really paid attention to. It all left her wondering what happened. Why was sungchan suddenly MIA?
She just felt… useless.
YN decided to go out as a pick-me-up. Yunjin walked at her side, knowing of her struggle with sungchan, and more than willing to help her get her mind off things. Regardless of what was going on in YN’s mind, Yunjin was always a great pick-me-up.
“I mean we could go to a party tonight?” She suggested.
“You know I hate parties,” YN rolled her eyes.
“We wouldn’t stay long, plus, it’s a mostly girls party. It’s kind of exclusive,” Yunjin wriggled her eyebrows.
“I’ll let you know if I want to go,” YN replied, her arms locked with Yunjin.
“Well we gotta do something to get your mind off of sungchan,”
“Pffft, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. I’m fine, I promise,”
“It certainly hasn’t seemed like it.” Yunjin watched YN tilt her head to the side. “You seriously haven’t realized you’ve been mentioning him non stop for days?”
YN paused for a moment. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” she mumbled.
“Oh, it’s bad bad. You can’t stop talking about it.”
YN looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, now feeling too exposed for how she had been really feeling.
Yunjin paused her steps, looking over to her friend. “Oh, no, don't apologize! It’s okay, I understand why,”
“I just feel bad, I really didn’t realize how much it was on my mind,” YN explained, staring at the pavement below her.
“It’s okay, really,” Yunjin assured her. “It just makes me sad seeing you so sad over a man,” She shrugged, squeezing YN’s arm reassuringly.
“I really liked him though… and I thought…” She trailed off, sighing and shaking her head.
“And that’s normal. It’s okay to be sad about stuff like this.” Yunjin told her. “Now perk up, cutie, We’ve got a weekend to waste, and a man to forget about.”
The Two walked around the market, looking at handmade goods, and fresh pick fruits and veggies. For a while, YN began to let her mind wander from Sungchan. She enjoyed her time with Yunjin, joking around and talking about drama that had been going on in recent weeks. It was easy to forget about things when she was with Yunjin, it was easy to forget all her sorrows.
They heard something from the distance, and perked up once more when they realized there was someone calling their names.
“Is that them? Yunjin? Yunjin!” someone shouted from the distance, weaving through the crowd. “It is them!” He called, tugging someone behind them. “YN, Yunjin!” They recognized shotaro at a distance, smiling and waving at them. YN froze when she saw who was right beside him.
Jung Sungchan. The man who had been ghosting her for two weeks.
YN turned to Yunjin, her anxiety clear on her face. “You’ll be okay,” Yunjin whispered, keeping their arms interlocked.
YN watched as the two of them approached, and almost immediately locked eyes with Sungchan. She stood there staring at him before tearing her gaze away and looking at the ground. WHen she looked up, Sungchan stood at a closer distance, a smile on his handsome face as he looked at her, holding his hand up in a friendly wave. If he hadn’t been ghosting her for weeks, her heart would’ve melted, she probably would have swooned. But alas, she was in no mood to swoon.
“Hey guys!” Shotaro greeted cheerfully. “It’s good to see you, we’ve been meaning to hang out,” He nudged sungchan, whose face dropped a bit when YN avoided his gaze.
“Yeah, it’s good seeing you guys,” His gaze was still fixed on YN, who had her phone pulled out, fingers typing away at something.
It wasn’t long until Yunjin and Shotaro fell into a comfortable conversation, and Sungchan took a step closer to YN.
“Hey,” He smiled, his voice soft.
“Hi.” YN replied shortly. Sungchan took note, shifting his weight a bit.
“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly concerned.
“Yeah why?” She lied, folding her arms.
“You just seem… more closed off.” He thought of their last time together, how close they had been, the stark contrast of this moment compared to then.
“Well sorry, I’m not sure how to talk to someone who’s been ignoring me for two weeks,” YN glanced at him, voice stern.
Sungchan furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” He asked in confusion.
YN rolled her eyes, not wanting to continue down this path. “Yunjin, I’m gonna head home. I’ll text you about the party,” she said before turning on her heel and walking out of sungchan’s sight.
“So… why is YN mad at you?” Shotaro asked, taking a bite of his food.
Sungchan shrugged. “I really don’t know? It kinda confused me.” The look shotaro gave him told him to continue. “She said I’d been ignoring her,”
“Have you been ignoring her?” Shotaro asked, knowing the answer, but wanting Sungchan to hear the truth from himself.
The hesitancy Sungchan felt made his heart drop a bit, realizing that he had been ignoring her. “I… i didn’t think I was ignoring her,” He pulled out his phone to see the old messages he hadn’t taken the time to look at. “I didn’t really mean to,”
“Yeah, well, you did,” Shotaro sighed. “When did you last see her?”
“I forget, but it wasn’t that long ago,” sungchan answered.
“Okay… and when was the last time you texted her? When was the last time she texted?”
“She texted me a couple days ago…” Sungchan put his phone down, taking a few bites of his food, as if he could avoid talking if he had his mouth full.
“Sunghcan,” Shotaro looked at him with a disbelieving expression.
“This food is really good,” Sungchan didn’t meet his gaze, stuffing his face with more food.
“Seriously, when was the last time you hung out?” Shotaro asked once more.
“I don’t know, it couldn’t have been too far back,” sungchan shrugged. “I think… two weeks?”
“Two weeks????”
Truth be told, Sungchan had no intentions of ghosting YN. Hell, he barely realized he had been.
When Sungchan got focused on something, it was almost like everything in the world stopped existing. That something happened to shift from YN, to his upcoming exam. It was the majority of his quarter grade, and in his efforts to study, he had unintentionally ignored nearly everything around him. Shotaro had begged him to go out for an hour or two that day, which was a struggle in itself.
Needless to say, he had been burnt out, not even realizing it. He barely had been out besides classes, and his social life had taken a pretty big hit. He had been tired, focused so much on passing the quarters exam, that he neglected one of the biggest parts of his life.
He hadn’t realized until he saw YN, how little time he had spent with her. In his time away, he never had the chance to think about just how much he missed her. Sungchan hadn’t thought much about the girl he liked so much- not because he lost interest, but because he was buckling under the pressure of school.
Sungchan rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing in his own frustration. “I know, I know,” he looked up at shotaro. “So?”
“So what?” Shotaro asked.
“So what should I do? I messed up,” Sungchan shrugged, looking at shotaro hopefully.
“Are you stupid?” Shoptaro asked. Before the younger could question his words, he said, “Apologize to her! You can’t get anywhere if you don’t talk to her,” Shotaro told him. “Make it quick before Yunjin gets involved.”
Sungchan Nodded. “Noted.”
When the two of them parted ways, sungchan walked with his hands in his pockets. He walked to his apartment, making a mental list of ways he could apologize, how he could make things up to her. He was never great at things like that, but he knew that he would change it for her.
When YN got home, her mood was brought down even more seeing there was still nothing from sungchan. It Was partially her fault, leaving before he could get a word in, but logic did nothing to brighten her mood. The worst part of the citation was how much it made her get into her own head.
She began doubting her bond with sungchan, doubting herself. Was she that forgettable that he could go weeks without talking to her and not even realize?
She sat down on her couch and pulled a pillow over her head, groaning into it as she laid back. In her own house, with nothing to distract her from her own doubts and fear, she felt the tears well in her eyes. It wasn’t her first experience with heart break, or with a failed relationship, but nonetheless, it hurt. She had let herself get used to sungchan, gotten her hopes up with him. Was she stupid to think they’d be more than a situationship? Tears streamed down her face before she could bring her hand up to wipe her face.
She thought back to their first date, and questioned how she ended up here. Crying on her couch because of a guy who wasn’t even her boyfriend. Crying over the guy who took her out for lunch and who she convinced to stay a little longer. Did it mean anything? Was this just how Sungchan was?
She wiped her tears and turned on her side, resting her cheek against her pillow as her phone lit up with texts from Yunjin.
Jen: you okay???
Jen: you left rlly fast
Jen: Did he do smth???? I can kill him
Jen: should I come over?
She sighed, not wanting to involve Yunjin even more in her boy problems.
YN: no i’m ok
YN: thanks tho 🙂
YN dropped her phone on the coffee table, closing her eyes and curling into herself. It wasn’t that late, but the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the flashes of her time with sungchan that came up every so often made her tired, made her want to escape.
Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep, not wanting to think about sungchan anymore, hoping her tears would dry themselves.
Hours passed, and YN woke up from her spot on her couch. Her back ached from the uncomfortable position, cheeks a bit puffy from crying. She went to shower, dousing herself in water to soothe her skin, and ease the pain that came from her uncomfortable sleeping position. She changed into pajamas, and dried her hair before putting it up. YN knew that since she had woken up when it was late, she wouldn’t be able to sleep well. Given that, she decided to treat herself. She wouldn’t go to another party with Yunjin, she wouldn’t spend her night crying over sungchan, she’d just let herself relax.
She reached for her phone so she could order herself some food, but a notification made her stop for a moment.
Channie <3: hi
Channie <3: can we talk pls?
Channie <3: i miss u
YN scoffed at the messages. Two weeks and her turning him down was what it took for him to take interest again?
She didn’t respond and placed an order for delivery. She had Wine in her cabinet that she saved for special occasions (or nights when she needed a little pick me up) and a pint of her favorite ice cream. She brought out her favorite blanket and sat down on the couch, trying to pick what she should watch, settling on twilight because what could take her mind off of things with sungchan better, than a YA romance movie.
She got up and grabbed the wine from her cabinet, pouring a bit into her glass and talking a few sips before reaching around for the ice cream in her freezer. In the midst of her search, she heard a knock on her door. Not realizing it was too quick to be her food order, she went over, and opened the door.
“Sungchan?”
He stood in the doorway, eyes wide, as if he had ran up the stairs like he had the night of their first date.
YN just sighed. “What are you-”
She was cut off when she felt his arms wrap around her, his head buried in her neck as if he wanted to crawl inside her. She heard him let out a shaky breath and her eyes widened, confused as to what was going on, and why he suddenly showed up.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her skin, arms tightening around her. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, I promise,” His voice was soft, almost fragile sounding.
YN was stunned for a hot minute, standing there and letting him hug her before hesitantly bringing her arms to wrap around him, relaxing into his grasp. They stayed like that for a moment before each pulling away. YN led sungchan further inside, leading him to sit on her couch. She sat next to him, an awkward distance away.
“What’s going on?” she asked hesitantly.
“I wanted to apologize, and like… explain why i ignored you,”
YN looked at him expectantly.
“So, I have a big exam coming up, and it makes up half of my quarter’s grade. And if I failed, my semester exam would also be sunk, so-” He paused. “Not important. When I get into something really intensely, I have a bad habit, that I’m gonna work on, of kinda forgetting everything else. Even Shotaro struggled to get in contact with me. He had to drag me out earlier today.”
He looked at YN and sighed, seeing her hesitant expression.
“I really am sorry that I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention, but I know I did, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” He reached for her hand lightly.
YN looked down at their hands. “I thought you lost interest in me,” She said quietly.
“What?” Sungchan asked, confused if he heard her correctly.
“I thought You lost interest. I thought you lost interest and started ignoring me.” She said a bit firmer.
Sungchan’s heart dropped hearing those words. “YN,” he brought his other hand to her cheek, tilting her gaze towards him. “What I did was a mistake. A mistake I promise, I won’t make again,” his thumb brushed her cheek. “And I promise, I swear on everything, I’m still pretty crazy for you,” He gave her a light smile.
His words made YN smile, intertwining her fingers with his as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other once more, not letting go of each other even as they just sat on the couch, covered by the blanket.
YN got up when she heard a knock on her door, much to sungchan’s dismay. She brought back the food she ordered, plus the ice cream and wine. When sungchan reached for some, she swatted his hand away.
“Thats not for you,” she shook her head with a playful smile.
“I thought you weren’t mad?” Sungchan sat up a bit, concerned.
“I’m not, but i ordered these for me,” She poked his stomach.
When Sungchan stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, pleading for some food like he had been starving all day, YN rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she said, and gave him some food, and poured him a glass of wine.
They found their places back on the couch, snuggled up against each other, sungchan’s arm draped around her waist as she rested on his chest. In the middle of the movie, while the Cullens played baseball, sungchan spoke up.
He asked her, “Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”
whoopee!!! I finished pt 3, stay tuned for the next parts, I pinky promise they'll come out sooner.
taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh, @skzhoe4life, @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent
#sungchan x reader#jung sungchan x reader#riize sungchan#jung sungchan#k labels#riize jung sungchan#sungchan oneshot#sungchan angst#sungchan#sungchan fluff#my love {sungchan} ☆.ᐟ#gyuvxx ᯓ★#⋆｡°✩riize#riize#riize oneshots#riize x reader
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Fast In My Car
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Summary: Self-driving car sex. That’s it.
Warnings: Adult themes | 🚫 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚫 | Smut 18+ (unprotected sex [risky business], vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], riding, creampie), dirty talk and language.
Disclaimer: None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up.
A/N: I don’t own a car with this feature, so oops on the technicalities. We’re just trying to have fun. Self-driving or not, lol, this is dangerous, but sexy too. Idk if this has been done. It’s just another car sex fic.
mrwinterr masterlist
When Steve said he had a surprise, you thought it would be something simple like flowers, candy or some cute gift, but what you don’t expect is him with a new car.
“Check it out!” he exclaims from the curb, a big smile on his face, his arms outstretched wide with the new shiny vehicle glistening in the sunlight behind him. He looked so happy and who wouldn’t be with a new car, right?
There was nothing wrong with his BMW, so you were a little confused. He had the best car from the lot, courtesy of his parents, and while your own car was still holding its own, you remained steadfast in your refusal to mooch off their wealth, which they’d grown indifferent to. You knew they meant well in their own way. They gave Steve everything he wanted and only the best for him, but you just weren’t cut from the same cloth.
“Where did you get that?” your first reaction was to question it, although you already had a good feeling from where.
“At the dealership,” he answered simply.
“Okay, not what I meant, babe. I mean how and why?” you clarify not one for playing dumb with him at that moment.
“My parents wanted to surprise us,” he explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to do.
“There’s nothing wrong with the car you have,” you noted.
“Had,” he corrects you before revealing the fate of his car, “they traded the BMW.”
“What?” you exclaimed, taken aback.
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Come on, it’s just a car. People trade in for new ones all the time.” Everything was just that easy for the Harringtons. “Okay, not everyone...or all the time,” he admits, seeing the unamused look on your face. “I didn’t know you liked the BMW that much.”
“It’s not that…I don’t know,” you trailed off, trying to not sound sentimental. “We just had a lot of memories with the BMW.”
Steve’s expression softened as he started reminiscing about the nostalgia tied to his old car. He picked you up for your first date in that car. He drove you to work with that car when yours would inconveniently break down. You both went on several road trips in that car. Among a lot of other things…in that car.
“Couldn’t they have given us something else? Like…I don’t know, a house in Chicago maybe,” you unrealistically suggest, but wouldn’t completely put it past them.
“What’s wrong with the house we have right now?” He asks, failing to grasp your point.
“This is your parents’ house!” You remind him, gesturing toward the big house behind you.
“They barely live here. It’s practically ours.” Steve reasons.
“Not the point,” you say, hands on your hips, not amused by that answer either.
“Whatever. Let’s take this for a spin.”
You sigh and reluctantly make your way to the passenger side, where he held the door open for you.
~
Steve took the long way to everything during the whole drive and you were getting bored fast. Admittedly, the ride was smooth and the seats were very comfortable. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head up right, trying to not doze off.
It was such a mundane thing, Steve driving around town with one hand on the wheel while the other on your thigh, sometimes in your hand. You didn’t think much of it at first, but when you start to feel him get a little too handsy, you rouse awake.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Well, you mentioned how we have so much history with the BMW…I was thinking maybe we can make some memories here,” he shrugs casually, continuing to drive through the backroads.
“I’m not having sex with you in this car just for that reason,” you retort.
“Why not? It has a self-driving feature,” he counters like that would help his case.
“That still doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention to the road.”
“How is you giving me road head in the BMW going to be any different in here?”
“Steve!” You yell appalled by his bluntness on the topic.
“If anything, it’ll be easier for me to keep the car on the road.” He’s really trying to upsell you on that self-driving feature, “…and the windows are tinted. No one will see us.” He can see the gears in your head turning, contemplating your next move. You just need a little nudge and Steve knows how to push your buttons.
“You can’t tell me that car sex isn’t hot.” His hand sliding further up your skirt. He can feel the heat radiating from your core through the thin barrier of your underwear, which boosts his confidence in his plan. He has to bite his bottom lip to conceal the smirk.
There were so many things wrong about this like endangering not only your lives but others, getting caught, and wrecking the car to name a few, but despite that, he’s right; you can’t deny the idea. It was dangerous but also thrilling.
You huff at his triumph, unbuckle your seatbelt, and turn to face him. Giddy, he pushes his chair back to make room for you, but at enough distance for him to ensure he can still reach the steering wheel should he need to.
“You’re taking us home right after this,” you demand, watching him nod his head eagerly, then reach to grab him. “Shit, Steve,” you pull your hand back not expecting him to be half hard already.
“What? You’re the one that put the idea of us fucking in a car in my head. I can’t help but think about it,” he says defensively, trying to shift some of the blame on you. “Plus, your legs look really nice.”
Shaking your head, you refocus your attention on undressing his lower half. Steve raises his hips as best as he could to help you tug his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring out.
You wrap your hand around his length, giving it a light squeeze before pumping him in a gradual pace you knew that got him going. You watch his lips part at the sensation you’re conjuring from him, and it only encourages you to continue. Seeing Steve come undone is one of your favorite things.
Leaning over the console, you get closer, poke your tongue out to swirl it around the head, collecting the small bead of pre-cum pooling from the slit. Your mouth waters at the taste, hungry for more, so you skip the teasing and go right for it. Steve sighs when you take him in your mouth, your lips enclosed around his cock.
You look up high to the left to see he’s thrown his head back against the headrest, eyes closed, so you pull yourself off him. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” He jolts, your warning ringing through his ears, straightening up a bit and a hand back on the wheel.
You’re soon bobbing your head up and down his length, a hand assisting in the job before you slowly start taking more of him inch by inch. He bunches up your hair in his hands to get a good view, sneaking a peek while still trying to keep his eyes trained on the road. Feeling the head of cock hitting the back of your throat stirs something animalistic in Steve. You have to keep your hands on his hips to force them down, so he doesn’t lodge himself any deeper than you could handle.
“Fuck. You’re so good at that.“ His voice drones with the sloppy sounds from working your mouth on his cock.
You hold him in place for a few seconds until you pull away, in desperate need for air, a mix of fluids running down your chin, but continue fisting his cock, feeling him grow harder.
Satisfied, you carefully maneuver over to him, claiming his lap as your new seat. It’s an awkward angle, but nothing new to you both. You hike your skirt up and push the slit of your underwear to the side. You let out a long moan as you lower yourself down on his thick cock. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you close your eyes to focus on the sensation wracking through your body, doing your best to ignore the sting from being stretched out.
“Yes,” he lets out as you’re fully seated on his thick cock, allowing him to bask in the warmth of your wet and inviting pussy. “You’re so tight,” he whines, feeling your walls contract around him involuntarily, waiting patiently for you to get used to his girth.
It’s always a bit of a struggle, but once you get accustomed to him, you pull your face away, brace your palms on his clothed chest and start to bounce on his cock. High enough to keep the tip snuggled inside and low enough to feel his balls press up against the bottom of your ass. He looks down, gawking at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in you.
“You’re so wet,” he says, licking his lips at the delicious sight. “You like riding my cock don’t you?” He knows you do. Your juices make certain of that when it starts overflowing that it starts to drip down his balls, soaking his seat.
He’s just eating up the effects that his words have on you, the vulnerable look displayed on your face, so different from the one that was reprimanding him earlier. “Making such a mess,” he chastises, grabbing a hold of your chin forcibly to look at him. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open from the orgasm building up in you. Once he has your attention, his stare is intense as he gravely speaks out, “my dirty girl,” before smashing your lips together, his tongue inviting himself in your mouth seeking your own.
It’s not enough for Steve to be just content with his cock buried deep inside you, he pulls your top down, your breasts spilling out. “God, I love your tits,” he groans, taking his other hand off the wheel so he could get a good fill of them in his hands.
Moaning at the sensation when his mouth latches onto them, teasingly nibbling the hardened buds, you get more heated. You start grinding on him, your hips swiveling in circular motions. He loves when you do this because it allows him to feel every part of you, sending him into overdrive.
“That’s it, grind on that cock, baby,” he mumbles against your chest, his hot breath fanning your skin.
“It’s so good,” you praise his cock. You let out a choked gasp when you ground harder, switching from circular to back and forth motions, “you’re so deep.” Feeling your body shiver, you try to memorize the angle where he’d just probed at, desperately needing him to hit it again.
Your efforts proving futile, Steve notices your hips losing its rhythm, so he decides to take control. Sneaking his hands around to grope the globes of your ass, he draws you in closer to him, thrusting his cock deep inside to find it for you and judging by the volume of your moans getting louder and louder plus the way your walls contract around his member, he’s found your sweet spot.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes,” your voice wavering. You use the bit of strength remaining in your legs to sit up to focus on him. “Steve, I’m gonna cum,” your warning pushing him to drive it home.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, bringing a hand up to push away the sweaty hair matted on your face. He loved watching you unravel too. He grips the side of your hips, fingers digging into your skin, not a care given about the marks they’d leave, and starts lifting you up and down his cock.
“Right there! Fuck, yes. Steve, baby, right there.”
“Yeah? You got it, baby.” He pistons his hips up into you, loving the way your breasts bounce from his harsh thrusts. “That’s it. Fucking come all over my cock…I’m right behind you, honey.”
Your thighs clamped around his hips, hands twisting his shirt from the tight grip you held, you let out a silent sob as your orgasm rocks through you. Steve makes good on his word because as your walls start pulsing around his cock, it’s enough to make him come. His arms tightly wrapped around you, keeping you close and rooted down, he stills. Sensitive, you flinch and groan in bliss from feeling, the throb of each spurt of his cum shooting deep inside you.
When you both come down from the high, your body is slumped over him. Steve tilts your head leaning in to kiss you tenderly. He pulls away, a soft smile adorns his perfect face as you gaze lovingly at him. You almost forget that you’re in a moving vehicle until the warning noise breaks your catatonic state.
“Shit,” he panics, letting go of you, quickly reaching over to align the wheel, almost crushing you in-between. You shoot him a threatening look to which he returns with a sheepish smile.
“It’s cool! We’re alive aren’t we?”
Shaking your head, Steve hissed as you carefully removed yourself from him, quickly sliding your panties back in place, not wanting to make a bigger mess than you already have or leave any stains before you climb over back to your seat.
He pulls his pants back up on his own as you try to fix your appearance, but the post-coital glow doesn’t allow you to. He doesn’t look any more innocent either and he doesn’t care. These memories are yours alone.
“Can we please go home now?” You ask, buckling up again.
He looks over watching you draw a small heart on the foggy passenger side window, one of your quirky ways of expressing your love.
“Yes, honey,” he says with a sweet smile, reaching over to hold your hand, and then taking the shortcut back home.
A/N: Well that came out of nowhere. I'm a little rusty, but I'm done looking at this. Please give it a like, reblog or reply. I’d love to hear what y’all thought. Thank you for reading!
#mrwinterr writes#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#mrwinterr writing
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not as expected w/ sugawara
m.list | rules
note. i had this idea and as my bestie loves suga so much then here we go!! i hope you'll love it too <3 requests are still open!
Sugawara Koushi was a menace to society, even if anyone who didn’t know him was sure that he was the sweetest person on Earth. He was adorable and caring, obviously, but he was mostly a tease who liked to annoy his poor friends ; and you were no exception to this fact.
You were in third year, just like him. At first, you met Daichi because you were in the same class as him, and soon you met the rest of them from the volleyball club. You weren’t an official member, but you were spending so much time there that it was almost like it. You were helping Kiyoko and now Yachi as much as you could.
This year was special, because it was the last chance for the third years to finally go to the Nationals. It was their last opportunity, but you were sure that they could do it ; especially with the first years that joined the club.
You were talking with Kiyoko when she left you alone to go say something at Nishinoya and Tanaka. It didn’t last long though, as Sugawara quickly approached you with his usual smirk. “Scared that we’ll lose?” He said, and you almost jumped because you didn’t see him arrive. You turned your face to look at him, before rolling your eyes.
“Never. I know you can do it,” you started, and it made Suga giggled slightly. You punched his shoulder a little, and it made a fake offended face. “It’s not what I heard.” You glanced at him with a little frown. Was he listening to your conversation with Kiyoko? This little…
“You know, it could be private.” You told him, and he simply shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing. He looked back at you with a smile, clearly amused by the situation. “Don’t worry too much, we’re gonna win, trust me!” He said with a proud smile, and it made you look away.
It caught him off guard, because it wasn’t your type at all. But it was nothing next to what he saw on your face. Your cheeks, they were burning slightly, and it made him blink a few times. You were blushing, because of him. He was trying to process the situation when he heard your voice. “I always trust you,” you said almost in a whisper, and he felt his ears burning at your words.
He stayed silent for a few moments, not able to think straight anymore. Especially not when you turned your eyes to look at him with this adorable expression on your face. He had some difficulties to swallow, his eyes blinking slowly like there was nothing in his head. Except that his mind was running fast.
“God. You’re so adorable,” he said in a low tone, his eyes locked into your gaze. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned away from him, hiding your face from his gaze. It was an overwhelming feeling but it wasn’t so bad at the same time. You cleared your throat, before you fell his hands on your shoulders, making you turn to him once again.
“Sorry, I couldn’t keep it for myself. You really are so pretty right now.” He said with a smile, chuckling a little. You were sure that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, and you must look like a real tomato right now. He wasn’t helping you calm down at all, but maybe it was on purpose. He leaned over you, leaving a small kiss on your cheek. “You can trust me,’ was the only thing he said before laughing softly. You pushed him a little, but you couldn’t help the gentle smile that appeared at the corner of your lips.
Maybe it was their last year here, yes, but you were more than sure that everything was going to be fine.
thank you!!
#sugawara koushi#haikyuu sugawara#hq sugawara#sugawara x reader#sugawara headcanons#sugawara hcs#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu hcs#hq#hq x reader#hq headcanons#hq hcs
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Birthday Boy
A/N: A little something for our favorite birthday boy. Written for @fandom-free-bingo Happy birthday Tony Stark! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.
Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger! F! Reader (our reader has Falcon-like abilities and Red Wing as well)
Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.
Word count: 2675
Square filled: “You’re coming with me.”
Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist
.
“You’ve got one on your left, Y/L/N. He’s armed. And does nine o’clock work for you?”
Rolling your eyes, you ignored the last bit of Tony’s sentence and jumped into action. Disarming the Hydra soldier wasn’t a big deal for you, what was distracting was the constant commentary coming in from the snarky billionaire who was hard to push off.
It was his birthday and you were one of his closest friends, all he wanted to do was go out, party and spend time with you - meaning he wanted you to potentially hook him up with someone while he did the same for you. And then the two of you would bitch about your respective dates over breakfast the next day, laugh and get over it, like you always did.
But this time around it was different. You were finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings for the man at bay. You couldn’t remember when it all actually went from friendship to something more, maybe it was around your fifth bad date when you felt super down in the dumps, Tony had been the best listener, he always was, he just never got enough credit for it. You spoke all night, he wiped your tears and made you feel better about yourself. You felt truly seen and heard. That was when you realized what lacked in all the other boys that you had found in Tony, someone you wanted the most and someone you probably could never have.
Which is why you were avoiding spending another drunken evening with the man, you would probably end up spilling your guts and if he didn’t feel the same way, you’d be left heartbroken and you would lose a really good friend.
“Good job, Y/N. You’re a solid addition to the team, unlike Legolas over here with his carpal tunnel syndrome.”
You chuckled as you heard Clint swearing at Tony over the comms, shaking you head, you continued your way into the building to extract information. Once you were done, you stepped out and made your way over to the jet where you were met with an impatient looking Tony.
“What?”
“You haven’t answered my question. Tomorrow, you and me, out on the town? It’s my birthday in case you forgot.” his big brown eyes implored you for an answer, standing in your way until you did. Sometimes you hated how persistent he could be, and more than that the fact that you fell for those gorgeous eyes every single time.
“Well?”
“Ugh. Fine! I’ll go. But you’re paying. And you will drop me home in case I get shitfaced.” you sighed, pushing him away and towards the bathroom to change.
Now you were kind of dreading tomorrow as much as you were looking forward to celebrating with your friend.
.
“How about fishnet stockings over there? She’s got a rack that would get you googly-eyed.” you tried to avoid the disdain in your voice as you nodded at the blonde who sat at the far end of the bar.
Tony was sucking on a wedge of lemon post the shots you two had downed before he turned his gaze in the direction you were pointing at. He hummed in appreciation but did nothing about it, simply went on ordering you some more drinks.
“What?” you frowned, secretly hoping he wouldn’t approach the woman because it would break your heart but Tony wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Especially when it came to women. He just loved showing off how much he ‘didn’t have to try’.
Tony shrugged, not answering you right away, instead he pushed a drink towards you, his knee nudging yours now that he had slid closer. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with motor oil and coffee filled your nostrils, making you wish just for once you could snuggle closer to him and just revel in his scent. Pushing your luck a little, you laid your arm across his shoulder and angled your body towards him, to your surprise he pulled you closer and kissed your temple, making your little heart flutter hopelessly.
“Careful Stark, the ladies are gonna think we’re together and you might end up having an off night.” you teased.
“Tony Stark never has an off night, sweetheart. Never.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke, raising an eyebrow up at you just to make sure you understood his point. A tingle went down your spine as his fingers caressed the back of your neck, lightly grazing your skin.
This wasn’t good. No. Not since your feelings were on overdrive.
“Then why aren’t you going over to Fishnets? Come on, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to warm your bed.”
Tony made a face at your words, one that had you frowning because it was unusual. He never answered though.
“What about you, Y/L/N? No guy worthy enough for your attention here? I thought one of those suited up, boring businessmen would be up your alley. What do you think?”
You looked over to where Tony was pointing, the guys were certainly handsome and by the looks of it seemed quite well to do. Maybe you could go up to them, strike up a conversation and eventually go home with one, in hopes of forgetting about your crush. Yeah, you certainly needed to get laid, it had been a while.
“Alright then. I will if you will.” you finished your drink and slammed it a little hard on the table than you normally would.
“What?” Tony frowned.
“You and Fishnets. Me and Mr. Suity-man over there. We’ll see which one of us hits the jackpot.” you winked, steadying yourself before giving Tony a little shove. It was a distraction you needed. Maybe watching Tony work his charm on another woman would work in helping you get over him finally.
.
Tony felt his blood boil at the sight of the fancy-ass suited guy wrap an arm around your waist while you giggled. The woman next to him was practically throwing herself at him, not the least bit interesting when it came to conversations and was pretty much laughing at everything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. Normally he would have her back at the penthouse already, be done with before heading down to his lab and have her sent off before he had his first cup of coffee in the morning. But it was different, he had no intentions of sleeping with that woman. Or any other woman that wasn’t Y/N.
These days, he only had eyes for her. Y/N made him feel things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Being with her made him feel like he was worth something, like he was finally being seen for who he really was. Her laugh made his heavy heart a little lighter, her presence felt like warm sunshine on a cold day.
And now he felt like he was blowing his chance with you by agreeing to this stupid bet. Catching her eye, he raised his eyebrows to ask how it was going, chuckling to himself when she made a disgusted face. That sent relief flooding through his system for some reason, at least she wasn’t going home with that stupid, tall guy.
A few moments later you both caught up at the bar for more drinks, letting out collective defeated sighs and shaking your heads.
“This pub is dull. I’m going home alone, aren’t I?” you huffed, feeling dejected and placing your head against your hand as you looked at the woman Tony was supposed to talk to, she had a sour expression on her face before she stormed off to where your potential date was. Maybe they would hit it off, you thought with a laugh.
“You and I both, Y/L/N. So? What was wrong with him?” Tony mirrored your position, eyes curious.
“Ugh. The guy wouldn’t stop yapping about football, he hates all animals and he thinks you’re just a big show-off.” You rolled your eyes, downing a glass of water in between to keep yourself hydrated.
“I mean, he’s not completely wrong,Y/N.” Tony shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s called him that, hell, he had been called worse.
“Shut up. He couldn’t be more wrong.”
Something about your tone amused him though, the way you got so defensive about him kinda made him feel proud. And intrigued him to know more.
“I mean he had the balls to say you are a pompous, arrogant jerk who does things for nobody but yourself.” You scoffed.
“It’s not like he’s ever spent months in some cave in Afghanistan and escaped, turned his whole business around and bloody well succeeded, invented a frickin 'element, saved I don’t know thousands of lives? Formed the avengers? Been the most generous man I’ve ever come across and—”
Your sentence was cut short as Tony’s lips cut you off abruptly. Was it really happening? Utterly shocked at first, you didn’t respond for a few seconds which made him stop.
“Is that why you rejected him?” He murmured, now cupping your face tenderly with his hands.
“That and the fact that he wasn’t you.” You answered honestly, your heart thudding beyond control at this point as blood rushed to your ears and cheeks, turning them warm.
“You’re the only one I want too, Y/N. Always have.”
His confession turned your insides into mush, a grin forming on your face that you couldn’t control. It was just a little hard to believe that the man you wanted also wanted you in return. The kind of stuff only dreams and romantic novels are made of.
“You’re coming with me.”
Grabbing your hand Tony guided you out of the pub. And of all the people you could go home with, you were finally going with the one person you wanted the most.
.
There was a flurry of activity once you were back at Tony’s penthouse. Clothes strewn about, giggles echoing in the empty hallway along with fervent kisses.
Once you were down to your underwear, Tony stepped back to admire your body, his gaze darkening as he saw the lacy, red lingerie you wore. It was a happy coincidence but for him, it was enough to want you in every way.
“Is this my birthday present?” He pulled you flush against his chest, turning you around so your ass grazed against his growing erection. Lips pressed against your warm skin, his hands slid lower and lower until he cupped your clothed sex to find it damp with desire.
“Maybe this is? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your ear, fingers teasing your folds over your panties before sliding them aside to feel you.
Gently tugging on his hair, you turned around in his arms and pushed him on his back until he flopped on the bed, smirking up at you as you straddled his legs.
“Eager much?”
“Very much.”
Placing a hand on his chest, you lowered yourself on top and kissed him, smiling into it when it responded with equal if not more enthusiasm. Your tongue slipped past his mouth, earning a needy grunt from the man as you moved your hips deliberately over his, teasing his clothed cock as it eagerly twitched underneath you.
“How come it took you so long to kiss me, Stark?” your tone was light but accusatory as you nipped at his ear. The way he was kissing you first made you realize you weren’t the only one longing for this to happen.
“How come it took you so long to act upon your feelings, Y/L/N?” he inquired instead, holding your hips and sitting up with you, caressing your sides gently with a faint smile playing on his lips.
You knew he’d ask you this question, you took a deep breath and decided on going with honesty, he deserved to know the truth if this was ever going to work out. Whatever ‘this’ was.
“I didn’t know if you felt the same way, Tony. I was afraid of losing you. You’re a royal pain in my ass but you’re my friend, Anthony Stark. So whatever we’re doing here, or about to do, I don’t want it to affect our friendship, okay? I’m completely fine with the whole friends with benefits situation–”
Yet again, your little ramble was cut off by Tony’s soft lips, kissing your insecurities away delicately, allowing your heart to flutter a little.
“That’s the thing, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore–, you felt like your stomach dropped, for a second you couldn’t believe what was going on before he continued, “I want to be your boyfriend, the best and only one you’ll have. You’re my ray of sunshine and I want you all to myself. That is if you’ll have me.” he blinked up at you in all sincerity, fingers fidgeting against your skin nervously as he waited.
His confession sent a thousand butterflies fluttering in your belly.
“You need to stop cutting me off like that, Stark.” you murmured with a smile as you tugged on his hair, inching your face closer to him.
“Or what?”
You hummed, pushing him back down once more and letting your hair drape around his face as you slid a hand down his torso, down past his boxers to find his length eager for you. Your touch elicited a needy moan from the man as your fingers gripped him, giving him slow, lazy strokes.
“You’re bossy, I like it.” his mouth fell open at your ministrations, his breath coming in shallow.
You didn’t take long to undress then, kissing along his chest which was littered with scars the closer look you had. Tony hadn’t felt so vulnerable and yet safe at the same time, then again he’d never been with you.
You lined yourself up against him, watching him as you sank down on his cock, letting out a content sigh as he stretched you out completely. Slow at first, you began rolling your hips against him, feeling every last inch of him as you continued to kiss, swallowing his grunts.
“You feel so good, Y/N.” Tony sighed, digging his fingers into your hips, thrusting up into you for more.
“So do you, Tony. Fuck me, please.” your needy whisper was all he needed to flip you over so you were under him, still connected. Once he had your arms pinned above your head, he didn’t stop, didn’t stop until you were a writhing mess, crying out his name as he impaled you with his cock. His brutal pace had you clenching around him in desperation, wanting release as you clung to him.
“Come for me, Y/N. Let me hear you.”
Tony’s words undid you, making your pussy spasm around his length as you gushed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were in a haze as his end approached, pulling out in time to come all over your thighs, spurts of his cum painting your skin white as he groaned in pleasure.
“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” he panted, helping you clean up before cuddling you close, frowning when all you did was hum.
“I’ve had better.” you teased, his reactions always made the joke worth it. He tickled you until you begged for mercy, out of breath as you laughed with the man, feeling a sense of contentment being with him like this. His relaxed features and demeanor suggested he felt the same.
“Oh! I completely forgot!”
“What?”
“Happy birthday, Tony.”
💛Happy Birthday to our favourite ray of sunshine, Anthony Edward Stark💛
#tony stark x reader#fandom free bingo#tony stark smut#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fluff#tony stark x you#tony stark imagine#tony stark one shot#tony stark#the stark squad#mostly marvel musings#marvel fanfiction#happy birthday tony stark#iron man#iron man x reader#iron man fanfiction
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Steve was a good friend, so he decided to show Eddie—a virgin—the rope.
nsfw, edging, masturbation, voyeurism (not sure about this one but rather be safe than sorry)
It started out like this:
They were both smoking in Eddie's bed and talking about everything and nothing at all. Just a picture of two friends chilling out together.
But maybe something had gone sidetracked, because Steve had turned to look at him and asked calmly.
"Are you a virgin?"
There was no warning, nothing for Eddie to brace himself for that kind of question. So with a loose tongue and heavy eyelids, Eddie had nodded.
"Yeah, sex is overrated anyway, man."
And that was it. They moved on to different topics after Steve just hummed noncommittally in response.
A few days later, they were back in Eddie's bed again but before he could light his joint, he was asked to show Steve his cock.
As confused as Eddie was, he didn't ask any questions but complied because he was weak to doe-eyes and a pretty face.
And unfortunately, Steve was the combination of both.
So, he just put his joint away for later use, unbuckled his pants, and pulled his cock out, already half-hard just by the idea of Steve watching him.
"Fuck," Steve breathed out softly, eyes tracing the girth and length of Eddie without shame.
Eddie squirmed slightly, not knowing why Steve reacted like that.
"Uhm, is there a problem?" Eddie asked uncertainly.
"No," Steve finally met his gaze, dilated pupils almost eating up the hazel. "Just... I know you’re big, but not this big."
Eddie blushed. "Well, is that a thing?"
"Is that a thing?" Steve mimicked his perplexed tone and snorted. "Jesus. Yeah, Munson. You're fucking hung and girls really dig it."
Eddie wanted to ask, "Does it also include you?"
But he bit his tongue before he could blurt it out. Instead, he said, "So, what are we gonna do now?"
Steve smiled at him, pretty and a little mean, "We're gonna teach you how to not come prematurely so you won't be laughed at for it."
Eddie was quite sure he only complained to Steve about that problem one time. Like months ago when he had been high off his ass and unable to see straight.
He had assumed that Steve must've forgotten all about it by now. But apparently, the younger boy had a better memory than he thought.
"How?" Eddie frowned in bafflement, half anticipating and half afraid of what was to come.
"You're gonna jack off," Steve answered casually, as if the sky was blue and Eddie wasn’t having his cock out in the air. "And when you're close, I'll tell you to stop. We'll keep going until your endurance improves."
"Wait, isn't that–" Eddie spluttered.
He wasn't an idiot. He had read too many skin mag to not know what it was.
"Yeah," Steve nodded calmly. "I know, but edging does help cases like this. I've done my research, Munson."
There were too many things to unpack from that one sentence and Eddie certainly was too sober for it.
So he filed it away to the back of his mind to visit it later when he wasn't both turned on and embarrassed by Steve's insane proposal.
"Do you want me to help you or not?" Steve cocked his eyebrow when he remained silent too long.
And wasn't that a million-dollar question?
Because Steve was sitting on his bed, asking to watch him jerk off, and expecting his brain to not fucking combust.
"Okay," Eddie exhaled shakily and looked up to meet Steve's waiting gaze. "When do you want to do it?"
"Whenever convenient for you," Steve shrugged like he hadn't been eyeing Eddie's half-boner until it filled out and started leaking steadily between them.
Before Eddie could second guess himself, he shimmied out of his pants and boxers. Then, under Steve’s watchful gaze, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping.
He closed his eyes, head knocking back and mouth dropping open in silent moans.
It didn't take long, much to his humiliation, when Eddie felt the telltale tingles prance down on his spine. He was gonna–
"Stop."
Eddie's hand fucking stopped and he had to yank it away from his cock or he was gonna spill just from a small contact.
He shook his head at Steve. "I can't–"
"It's alright," Steve grabbed his hand and guided it back to his throbbing cock. "I know you can do it, Eddie."
Jesus Fucking H. Christ.
The look Steve gave him was so different from before, so soft and so tender.
At that moment, Eddie knew he'd do anything Steve asked him to.
And he was also pushed closer to the edge because of it.
"I'm sorry–"
Steve acted too quickly. One second he was holding Eddie's wrist, one second later he was grabbing Eddie's balls.
"Wha–" Eddie groaned out loud when Steve squeezed them, causing his cock to wilt immediately.
"The fuck are you doing, Harrington?!" Eddie moaned and glared at Steve.
"I'm helping you," Steve answered matter-of-factly, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "In case you forgot, Munson, we're training you to hold out longer than one minute. It'd be for naught if you come right now."
"You're evil," Eddie mumbled, but secretly hoped that Steve wouldn't stop holding his balls. He could already see himself jerking off to this very moment later.
"I'm just being a good friend," Steve snorted and retreated his hand. "Go on. Pick up from where you left off."
And Eddie obeyed.
He stroked his cock slower this time, hand moving with more purpose, teasing the sensitive slit, squeezing the flushed tip, spreading the slick along the rigid shaft.
He grunted, sighed, and moaned, letting out small noises that were just a bit more breathy.
He bucked his hips and started thrusting, wanting to show Steve that he had the potential, that he could fuck Steve the same way he was pistoning into the loose hole formed by his hand.
His performance was cut short, however, when he was close again, too keyed up to last more than a minute.
It was hard to ignore those hooded eyes when they felt like a physical touch on him.
As predicted, Eddie wasn't allowed to come.
Every time, Steve would tell him to stop again and again and again until he was desperate for relief. Every time Eddie failed to halt his movements in time, the younger boy would aid him by gripping his balls painfully.
It was a bittersweet torture.
Eventually, Eddie couldn't hold back anymore and shot despite Steve's order.
"Fuck, shit, m'sorry, m'sorry," Eddie babbled as he experienced the most intense orgasm in his life.
He convulsed and fisted his cock, seeing stars beneath his eyelids as he tried to drive out the high.
The overwhelming pleasure rendered him speechless, making his head spin and his body tremble. He felt like his brain had liquified and streamed out from his ears.
By the time Eddie regained his senses, he was handed tissues and a water bottle.
Once done with wiping himself down, he took a long gulp from his bottle before grinning at Steve, "That was really something, man."
"You tell me," Steve huffed out a laugh that echoed by Eddie.
They sat in companionable silence until Eddie cleared his throat slightly.
"So I finally lasted longer than one minute."
"Yeah," Steve patted his arm lightly. "Good job for that."
"Thanks," Eddie ducked his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.
"It's nothing," Steve smiled at him kindly. "You really outdid yourself, Eds."
Eddie's stomach felt warm and fuzzy at that. "So what's next now I passed your test?"
Moving closer, Steve hooked a finger under his chin to make him look into those hazel eyes.
"Next time, we're gonna do it with my hand."
Eddie took in a sharp inhale. "You're not joking, right?"
"No, not with you," Steve chuckled lowly.
The sound rattled Eddie down to his bones.
"And what's about next next time?" Eddie couldn't help himself. God dammit.
If all of this was just a dream, he was gonna rip God a new one. Because fucking Jesus.
"Eager, aren't we?" Steve arched his brow. "But I think you already figured it out by yourself."
Eddie groaned and reached down to squeeze the base of his cock. It seemed to be quite eager with what Steve suggested.
"Can we just do the second test right now?" Eddie licked his lips, knowing full well that he wouldn't last long, but he’d be damned if he didn't give it a shot.
Steve just laughed and patted his cheek lightly. "Nah, today's enough. We'll continue tomorrow."
"Promise?" Eddie asked hopefully.
"Yeah," Steve pecked the corner of his lips. "Promise."
And Eddie knew he was gonna set up a one-hundred-step plan to woo Steve Harrington however impossible it was.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#sionewritesatmidnight#steve: oh you're /this/ big?#eddie: is that a bad thing? :(#steve: it is. lemme help you put it down :)
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Sparks and Shadows
Summary: Eris is surprised when Azriel comes looking for him at the Forest House (one-shot).
Note: Thank you to @ninthcircleofprythian @cauldronblssd and @teddyhoneybear for just being really nice :) Thank you to everyone who reads <3
“Don’t move.”
Eris listened to the command, but he knew it would take very little effort to simply set the Night Court’s best spy alight. Half a thought, and Azriel, along with his strange shadows, would be nothing but ash.
Their centuries-long dance of sorts, and Azriel would be acting as the lead tonight, Eris thought.
The torches in the room flared in warning as Eris leaned into Azriel’s touch in a silent challenge, one that the shadowsinger seemed prepared to accept.
Azriel kept a gloved hand tightly against Eris’s mouth, pressed the sharp point of truth-teller between his shoulder blades. Eris felt as the edge cut through his thin white shirt, he had been ready for bed, had not been dressed for such a guest.
Lips just touching the arch of Eris’s ear, Azriel murmured, “I’m going to move my hand.” Eris felt as truth-teller cut his skin, as the smallest drop of blood made a trailing path down his back. Azriel continued, “I don't want to hear a sound.”
Eris rolled his eyes, even though he knew the other male was unable to see the gesture. He grunted in response, and the hand fell from his mouth, instead wrapping around his throat.
Eris wondered if Azriel was doing that just to irritate him, as a reminder of the last time the other male had found himself in the Forest House, when their positions had been… switched.
Eris arched his neck, lifted a brow. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Azriel’s hand tightened uncomfortably around the Autumn heir’s neck. “I thought I told you to keep quiet.”
“That’s no fun,” Eris’s voice was strained, his breaths smaller. The fireplace on the room’s other side dimmed in response. Eris did not truly believe Azriel had come to kill him, he had had plenty of chances over the years and had never taken any of the countless opportunities to do so.
Azriel’s tone suggested he was serious, perhaps even desperate, unbelievably easy to read. “Nod if you know anything about the human queens.”
Eris tilted his chin, and Azriel said nothing for a long moment before loosening his hold.
“Then you’re still of use to me,” Azriel spat, shoving Eris away and stepping back to put some distance between them, truth-teller now in its sheath. “Tell me what you know,” he ordered, hazel eyes dark.
Eris rubbed at the sore skin of his neck and shrugged, looking at Azriel over his shoulder, lips tilted up in a mocking smile. “Why would I do such a thing?” He walked towards his dresser, grabbing an already opened bottle of cognac and filling the glass he had left there.
“Don’t play games, Rhysand is asking.” Eris scowled as he remembered the Night Court’s promise to support his bid for the throne. He offered the glass to Azriel who simply scrunched his nose in distaste.
“Be specific about the things you want, shadowsinger, I won’t be revealing all my secrets.” In a swift motion, Eris drank all the contents in the glass, setting it aside and relishing in the way it burned.
Some of the liquid had dripped down the corner of his mouth, and Eris flicked his tongue out slowly, letting it linger. Azriel tracked the movement with his eyes, wings flaring almost involuntarily. Eris had to fight to hold back a grin.
Azriel’s hands clenched into fists at his side,“I’ve heard whispers that your father has allied with a few of the queens.”
Eris watched as some of Azriel’s shadows danced around him, he leaned against his dresser, strong arms holding his weight and long legs stretched out, comfortable. “You’ve heard correctly.”
“Why?” Azriel asked through his teeth, clearly annoyed. The blue siphons he had in his leathers brightened for a moment.
Eris hummed elegantly in response, tracing the carved wood of his dresser with a finger. “When I find out, I’ll tell you.” Beron told him very few of his plans, especially as of late, but Eris always learned of what was happening within his own court.
Azriel took a few large steps towards him, wings wide to make himself seem larger. Eris looked up at him, but made sure his chin was tilted arrogantly, enough so to get on the other male’s nerves.
“Don’t lie, Eris.” His words were accusatory, perhaps even a bit disapproving.
Eris merely scoffed, “Don’t tell me what to do, shadowsinger.” Even though he had been telling the truth, Eris rather enjoyed being contrary.
Azriel sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Meet with Rhysand and Feyre the next time you find yourself in the Hewn City.” Shadows began to whirl around him, his feet completely enveloped in inky darkness.
“Going so soon?” Eris drawled, toying with the laces of his shirt. “No kiss goodbye this time?” Eris was mocking, he had spent enough time around males like Azriel, too wrapped up in their own thoughts, confused about what they wanted.
Eris had been surprised the last time Azriel had come to his chambers, had kissed him after questioning him about the High Lord’s plans. Eris had been even more surprised at how easily he had been able to get the other male into his bed, at the desperate sounds that had fallen from the shadowsinger’s lips as he had let Eris do as he pleased.
All of the control had been in Eris’s hands, just as he enjoyed it.
Azriel seemed to have other plans this time, giving Eris no warning as he grabbed Eris by the back of his head, roughly pulling him so that their lips could meet.
Frantic, desperate, Eris gasped in disbelief and Azriel took the opportunity to lick at the seam of his lips, to stroke at his tongue with his own. The back of Eris’s thighs pressed into the dresser behind him, his arm came up to wrap around Azriel’s neck, fingers carding through the dark locks of his hair. When Eris pulled at the short strands, Azriel moaned against his mouth in approval.
Azriel’s wings came up around them, cutting them off from the rest of the world as their kiss deepened.
Eris felt as the shadowsinger’s hand tugged at his shirt, grabbed at the fabric clumsily. Pulling Azriel’s bottom lip between his teeth, Eris bit hard enough that he felt the skin split, tasted copper on his tongue.
Azriel flinched back, almost as though he had remembered where he was and who was with him. Wings snapping back quickly, he took a few quick steps away from the heir of the Autumn Court. He brought a hand up to wipe at the trickle of blood that dripped down his chin, raising his brows in shock.
Eris grinned as he watched Azriel, his voice thick with desire as he spoke. “We can continue this another night,” he said, waving a hand lazily. “I didn’t put on my silk sleeping clothes for you.” Azriel blushed, the tips of his rounded ears turning a dark shade of scarlet, but Eris continued. “I’ve promised my time to another, and I don’t know how she feels about sharing.”
Azriel simply cleared his throat, nodding in response. Eris found his embarrassment endearing. Amber eyes tracked the shadowsinger as he took a few more steps back.
“Good night, Azriel,” Eris added embers falling from the tips of his fingers as he waved a hand. In truth, he had not been expecting the Night Court spy to respond, he hardly ever did, letting shadows completely envelop him before he winnowed away.
As Azriel left the Forest House again without a word, Eris scowled at the disappointment that bloomed in his chest.
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#eris vanserra#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azris#eris x azriel#ashes writes sometimes#thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog and like <3
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One of Those Days
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader
Warning: Family issues, Having a bad day, Some comfort (it's the little things that matter sometimes)
Author Note:
I have had a very stressful and tiring day today. All I wanted to do was sit and write the next chapter of my story, but everything seemed to be against me doing just that. So, after talking to the lovely @vbecker10 who suggested I do a small side story, I came up with this.
As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.
Frustration, aggravation, irritation, and stress; the quartet of misery was heaped on and piled high into the sky. Its peak disappearing into the stratosphere while Y/N was left crushed under its oppressive weight. She knew she was not the prodigal daughter, she made plenty of mistakes just by having the interests and hobbies that diverged from her parents’ expectations. Regardless of her multitude of failures in their books, she always tried her best to live up to their lofty expectations, no matter how unfair or impossible they seemed to be.
Today was just another one of those days when she could do nothing right just by breathing, and the rainy weather was of no help. The morning started out great, even peaceful, with the sudden curveballs life had thrown at them. She stood her ground on home plate and swung at the tricky throws pitches at her. What she did not expect was the bowling ball that came crashing into her. What was that bowling ball? The sudden anger of her father. What had happened? Even she wasn’t entirely sure. By all accounts, everything was on schedule to be a relaxing day off.
None of her siblings had argued with their parents, work talk had not been the main topic of discussion, and there was no need for a panic run to the store because someone had forgotten to get groceries. And yet, it all came crashing down in seconds. Her father angrily started to lecture her about ‘conversational etiquette’, because she somehow broke some rule she had never heard of by providing an answer in a whisper when no one was talking in order to help him understand something. Y/N was not in any mood to listen, so she stood from her seat at the table and began to throw away some junk mail.
“Sit down right now! Where do you think you’re going?” He loudly demanded, twisting his torso to watch her walkaway the couple of feet to the trash bag filled with junk papers.
“Calm down, calm down, I’m listening. I’m just throwing away this junk mail, that’s all.” She waved the torn in half sheets before dropping them into the pile. “You can keep talking, I’m just getting rid of these.” She made her way back over to the table. “You were saying?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore, you have no manners.” He sniped.
“Ok, suit yourself,” she shrugged and opened another letter.
“Talk back one more time and see what happens.” He glared, she could see it from her periphery, but she kept her attention on the black letters on the white paper.
Yeah, I dare you. She bit back the challenging words and simply gave a nonchalant “ok” in response, which only irritated her disgruntled father even further. He began to huff and complain about all four of his children being disrespectful and unteachable to her mother as he left the table and went back up to his room. Silence fell over the dining table as her mom sighed at the loss of her peaceful day off.
“What bit him?” Y/N scowled, annoyed by her father’s sudden flip in mood.
“I have no clue, he’s been getting worse and worse as of late.” Her mother sighed, shaking her head before resuming her task of sorting the work mail.
Y/N did her best to ignore and avoid her father, knowing he would either be a ticking time bomb, or he would try to make amends through childish methods; such as poking at her or blocking her path to give her a hug. She did lover her father and appreciated all that he has done for her, but she was an adult now and this was all just getting so tiresome. She kept her own anger and annoyance in check for the remainder of the day, hiding in the basement of their house to keep cool from the muggy rainy summer day and to avoid any unnecessary flare-ups.
<My dad had another one of his episodes again, it didn’t end up going nuclear, thankfully. It was still a pain, though. I’m doing everything I can and answered everything he asked! I didn’t even say the dreaded ‘I don’t know’ that he gets ruffled over either. UGH, well it’s over now. Sorry to bug you, you don’t NEED to respond to this. I just needed to vent.> She texted the one person she would think to text at this moment, her dear friend and recently acquired boyfriend: Jason Todd. She knew he was a busy guy, so she was not surprised by the lack of quick response. So, she lay across one of the sofas and immersed herself in a new manga she recently learned about from social media.
Glancing at the clock on her phone, Y/N quickly sat up. Two hours had slipped by with no extra trouble or calls from her family, which was a shock in itself. Pocketing her phone, she climbed up the steps, grimacing at the shift in temperature halfway up. The mugginess was extra clingy today. Her mother and other brother were busy working on some work related things, while her two younger siblings and father were nowhere to be seen. Upstairs, I guess, she shrugged it off and went to the fridge to get a snack. What she had not expected, but should have, was her younger sister coming down to complain once more.
For the next hour, she repeatedly droned on and on about the two younger cousins they had met last night for dinner. Their mom’s cousin’s family had flown in from Metropolis after many years, and so their maternal uncle that lived in the nicer side of Gotham invited their family to join them for dinner to meet up. Everything seemed to have gone swell, but clearly it was too good to be true. Her younger sister had a bone to pick with both of their younger female cousins and their ignorance of their poor choice in wording or understanding over something.
Her mother tried to get her younger daughter to move on from the topic, but it was not panning out as well as they had hoped. The eldest child had quietly excused himself from the dining room to avoid dealing with the overly opinionated sister, leaving Y/N to deal with the mess of playing middle person to stop the two from misunderstanding one another. This, also, was nothing new and only added to the exhaustion Y/N was feeling from earlier.
Every time she seemed to have gotten close to concluding this endless loop, her younger sister would start right back up again. Jumping between each cousin; fact-dumping all the political key points used to make her point last night. Y/N was well aware of these points prior to this conversation, and she knew her cousins were not the smartest and fairly sheltered, both coming from richer families. After the tenth go around, she managed to shut the conversation down and jumped at the offer to pick up food. Her mother asked her to go with her younger sister, but Y/N jumped at the chance to go alone, as she reminded them that her younger sister had job applications to tend to.
The night air was cooler, but it was still a bit thick from all the rain. It was better than the A/C-less ground floor of the house. Turning her key in the ignition, she slumped in the driver’s seat with the A/C on, letting herself have a moment of silence before heading out to grab the dinner. Waking her phone, she unlocked the screen and tapped on the phone symbol next to Jason's’s phone. She listened to the phone ringing through the car speakers, waiting for him to pick up. Her hope of speaking to him was quickly dying as it kept ringing.
Is he still busy at nine? He did say his family is pretty strict about work. She frowned. “Hey, just calling to see if you were free to talk, Clearly you’re not, so I guess I’ll catch you later? It’s nothing urgent, just having a rough day. Call or text when you’re free, ok? Later,” she tapped the red button to end the call as she parked in front of the restaurant and picked up their order.
The drive back was silent, her mom calling twice to make sure Y/N had found the new place and if she was on her way back yet. The food had been brought and eaten. Her parents were eating upstairs, the younger two were in their own room, and Y/N was sitting at the table with her older brother explaining to him what their little sister was fixated on this time. Though he and their younger sister did not get along, he was no stranger to expressing his irritation with said sibling and her pompous attitude. Y/N understood why the two did not get along, their younger sister had insulted him three times by saying to his face that he deserved to have the lifelong illness he had been suffering with since high school. The first time she was a jealous and bratty middle schooler, but the next to times she was older and was dealing with her sudden onset of arthritis. There was no pint in trying to rebuild any semblance of a relationship, but some assistance would be appreciated.
With the day finally coming to an end, Y/N crawled into her bed, wanting the day to end and start the next one fresh with no more issues. She checked her phone for the umpteenth time, still no response. Opening the conversation between the two of them, she tapped and swiped a rather large message about the full details of the rest of her day. Her brain felt drained, and her eyes were starting to hurt from staying open. She persisted though and sent her paragraph, satisfied. Plugging in the charger, she turned onto her side and quickly fell asleep. Or so she had hoped. Her body was too tired and left her restlessly tossing and turning throughout the night for comfort that played a cruel game of hide and seek.
The next day, she woke up groggy and still tired, but she knew she needed to get to the office on time. So, she forced herself out of bed and began her morning routine and made her way to the kitchen for breakfast. Once she knew she was full and had a protein shake packed away for a backup lunch; she made her way out of the garage door to find a basket of brightly colored flowers sitting on the hood of her black SUV. Confused, she quickly put her things on the driver seat and inspected the basket until she found the little note tucked away among the petals.
Dearest Y/N,
Sorry I didn’t get back to you on time, sounds like you really had a rough day. I don’t know how you do it, dealing with your family and the bullshit they push on you. I can barely stand my own family, and I live on my own! A simple text back sounded way too shitty, and it’d hardly tell you just how proud and amazed I am of you for always keeping your cool through the crazy shit you go through. Go out with me after work? I promise to be free and give you all of my attention. Text me when you’re free?
You’re super apologetic he’s late and loves you always, boyfriend;
Jason Todd
Every ounce of negativity instantly evaporated from her body as a huge smile spread across her face. Yesterday was a horrible and lonely day, but today was infinitely better.
Yes, I know, not a lot of Jason in this but I purposely wrote it this way to put more emphasis on the fact that he tries his best to make up for it when he's not around.
#red hood#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd fic#red hood x reader#y/n#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x female reader#jason todd x you#red hood x you#your name#reader insert#dcu#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#batman#batman fanfiction#batman fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x y/n#red hood x female reader
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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 2
Noah Sebastian X Reader
Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter charged with overseeing community service.
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Masterlist
_______
“What’s up with you?” Madison asked, punctuating it with a nibble to Noah’s earlobe.
“Nothing,” said Noah.
Madison huffed and moved so she was straddling Noah’s lap. She took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. By now, Noah was well aware that she enhanced her size with a generous array of push-up bras, but even without them, she was chesty.
Usually, he liked when she took control, but he couldn’t seem to get his head in the game.
“Put your mouth on them,” she commanded, and he did as he was told, enveloping one of her nipples in between his lips and sucking. She let her head fall back, exposing her neck, and Noah, to his credit, went through the motions. He clutched the front of her neck, digging his nails in the way he knew she liked and she let out a moan that he could tell was played up for any eavesdroppers in the hallway.
“Smack my ass,” she whispered, and he did, letting out a groan when she replied to his actions by grinding her hips down on his. The groan was for show. He felt nothing, which she soon discovered once she unzipped his fly with her grabby hands.
“Are you not into this?” she asked with a tone of accusation. As if she somehow couldn’t fathom a man not being immediately turned on by anything she did.
Noah shrugged. “Not really.”
She scoffed and clambered off of him, searching the room for wherever she had flung the top half of her outfit in her coked-up frenzy.
“I’m gonna go find Folio.”
“Be my guest,” he said and gestured to the door, which she promptly stormed out of.
Noah sighed and leaned back on the couch. He checked his phone. It was 11 PM. The party had only been going on for a little over an hour and he was already over it.
Fetching his shirt from the floor, he threw it back on, zipped up his jeans, and made his way back out into the crowd of people now gathered around his friend Ruffilo, who was performing a keg stand.
He held out for longer than Noah anticipated, but when the guys holding him finally let him down, he lost his balance and stumbled drunkenly into the kitchen counter.
The crowd that had gathered around him applauded, and when he finally regained his balance, he threw up his fist in celebration.
Noah couldn’t help but feel affection for his friend in that moment. Ruffilo and Noah had both had a rough upbringing coming from the same small drug-ridden town. They’d grown up in the same trailer park and had banded together early on. Frankly, it was a miracle that they escaped without addictions, considering how the odds had been stacked against them.
Not that he had very much going for him at the moment. They booked a few shows here and there, but aside from that he spent most of his time running a steel lathe at the local precision manufacturing plant. When he wasn’t doing that, he was blowing off steam at Jolly’s parties.
“Did you see that?!” his friend slurred, throwing an arm around Noah’s shoulders and resting most of his body weight on him.
“I did. That must have been a record for you,” Noah replied.
“Had to be over a minute, at least.” Nick laughed through his words and Noah couldn’t help but share in his friend’s joy, trying to push away the sneaking suspicion that partying and drunken hookups were no longer enough to keep him satisfied.
“Where’s Madison?”
“Probably with Nick,” said Noah. He looked around the room, and surely enough, he had her on his lap, sharing a joint with her.
“What happened, man? I thought you locked that down.”
Noah shrugged. “Listen, I think I’m gonna head out.”
“That’s two weeks in a row you’ve bailed early. What’s up with you?”
“Just not feeling it,” Noah replied.
“You’ll make it home okay?” he asked, hazy eyes clearing for a moment in his earnestness. Noah softened and offered a reassuring smile.
“Promise. Go have fun. I have an early morning tomorrow, anyway.”
“Damn, I forgot you were doing that.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to be hungover for it, so I should head out.”
“Take it easy, man.” His friend clapped him on the shoulder affectionately before making his way back into the crowd.
Noah quickly left the party, lighting up a joint for his walk home. It was cold, but after the humid fog of smoke and sweat that had built up in the house, the fresh air was welcome.
He was listless, he realized, and probably understimulated. The factory didn’t pay well and he had no other career prospects. There was no way he could afford college and his high school GPA wasn’t enough to get him accepted to any even if he found financial aid. If things didn’t work out with his band, he was looking at a lifetime of mediocrity.
His thoughts drifted to you.
You were probably busy studying. Surely you attended the university and probably majored in something like literature or early childhood education. He wouldn’t put it past you to get all your homework done on Friday so that you could spend the weekend relaxing.
Your parents were probably still married. And you called them at least once a week to catch up. They likely made enough money that you could afford school without a scholarship, and he was willing to bet you already knew what you wanted to do with your life. You were self-assured and decisive. And though you were sheltered, you probably still had a better chance at success than he ever would.
He took another drag and flicked the half-spent joint into the nearby bushes before breaking out into a jog. He was stressed, and he needed an outlet, and the only thing available to him at the moment was to physically expend as much energy as possible or else he’d wind up punching a mailbox.
_________
“Head’s up. Nick’s in a mood today.”
“Oh,” you said, noting their time of arrival. 8:09, but you marked them both as on time. “Any idea why?”
“He’s hungover. And he struck out with the girl he was trying to get with last night so his pride is damaged.”
“Dang. What about you?” you asked. “Any luck with the ladies?”
“I don’t need luck,” he said. He held a stern expression, maintaining eye contact with you and you were caught off-guard, until he cracked a smile and you relaxed. He had you going for a second, thinking you’d somehow offended him by questioning his prowess.
“Any hangover?” you asked.
“I didn’t drink last night.”
“Oh?” you said, both impressed and surprised.
“Don’t get too excited,” he said, smile still softening his features. “I’m not turning from my sinful ways. I just don’t want community service to be more miserable than it has to be.”
“Sounds like a step in the right direction to me.”
Noah rolled his eyes and headed to the supply closet to get started on the long list of chores that needed completed. Nick had gone to the bathroom when they first arrived and hadn’t returned yet.
“Windows first?” Noah called out from the back of the room.
“Yeah!”
He walked back in holding the bottle of window cleaner and casually flung the rag over his shoulder.
“You’re in a suspiciously good mood,” you observed.
Noah began spraying the nearest window down and wiping it with the rag. You studied him as he worked, noticing just how much of his skin was covered in ink. He moved casually and with confidence, each of the muscles working in perfect harmony with each other. He carried no tension anywhere in his body.
“I like grunt work,” he admitted.
“I’ve never heard of anyone who liked grunt work.”
“Didn’t your Christ like grunt work?” he asked, amused. “I think I remember something about him wanting to be a humble servant.”
“Huh,” you said, taken aback, “come to think if it, yeah.”
“You seem surprised.”
You continued to watch him as he moved to the next window, finding interest in the movement of his shoulders.
“I didn’t expect you to be so Christ-like.”
He smiled to himself. You caught the reflection of it in the window he was working on.
“I don’t do it because some historical religious figure that may or may not have existed said to,” he said. “I do it because it feels good.”
“Still,” you said. “you’d make a better Christian than a lot of our congregation.”
He laughed. “I went to church until I was 14.”
So far, this was the most personal detail he’d revealed to you. While Nick was an open book, you’d always observed Noah to be guarded. He’d speak, but not about himself, and it was always hard to get a read on him. Perhaps that was on purpose, or perhaps it was just safest for him, but having this little bit of context felt like he was offering you a gift. A small bit of insight into who he was.
“Can I ask what happened?”
“You can ask,” he said, “but I probably won’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s private.”
“Anything terrible?” you pressed. It had to have been significant for him to have so much anger still.
“I’m not giving you anything else, so you may as well stop asking.”
“Fine,” you huffed. “But I still think you should give it another chance.” You followed him as he made his way over to the next set of windows.
“And why’s that?” he asked as he began spraying. Something about the way he stayed focused on his work and didn’t look at you made it easier for you to speak your mind.
“You like humble servitude.”
He chucked, low and soft. “People can be good people without being Christian.”
“But isn’t that like, the basis of Christianity?”
“I think you’re reading too deep into it. There are a lot of people who like humble work. It’s good for the body. It’s good for the mind. That’s reason enough to like it.”
You shrugged. “So, you’re saying it feels good to follow Christ’s teaching.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “That’s a stretch. Trust me. Your church doesn’t want me, and I don’t want them.”
“Windows again?” came Nick’s whiny voice from across the room. “God, can’t we do something more exciting?”
You and Noah locked eyes. “Told you,” he said under his breath.
“Like what?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, plopping down in a pew. “What about raking leaves again? I liked that.”
“You can grab a rake if you want. I still think there are some leaves on the ground out there.”
“Pass,” he said, and you got the feeling he didn’t actually want solutions and just wanted to complain.
Across the room, the doors abruptly opened and a familiar white V-neck and beanie crossed the room, looking determined. He wore his usual relaxed jeans and Birkenstocks. The cut of his V-neck highlighted the cross necklace that dangled between his collar bones.
“Hey,” you said once he made a beeline over to you. “What brings you here?”
“I can’t find my pedal. Have you seen it?”
“No, but I can help you look.”
“That would be great, thanks,” he said and brushed past Nick and Noah without acknowledging them on his way to the stage. Which was a bit odd, in your opinion.
“Um,” you said, trying to diffuse the weirdness, “okay, so Noah, just keep doing what you’re doing, and Nick, try to find something productive to do if you can.” You could tell by their faces that they were both interested in who this standoffish newcomer was, but you decided that was best kept secret.
“It’s orange, right?” you asked Isaac, peering behind the keyboard and into the mess of wires connecting all the different instruments and auxiliary parts to the monitors.
“Yeah,” he said, scoping out the room. He didn’t seem to be searching all that hard. “So how’s community service going?”
“Good,” you said. “We’re making good progress.”
“They’re behaving for you?” he asked.
“Most of the time, yes.”
“The one looks like trouble,” he said, nodding over towards Noah. You knew what was going through his head. At first, Noah’s tattoos and cold disposition intimidated you, too. But for some reason, that same judgement bothered you more coming from Isaac.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Noah watching.
“You should be careful around them.” Isaac wasn’t bothering to monitor his volume, and you were sure both Noah and Nick could hear him. “They’re bad influences.”
“That seems pretty judgmental,” you said, crossing your arms, the search for his pedal all but forgotten.
Isaac rolled his eyes. “Come on, they’re criminals. You saw what they did to the worship center.”
“How’s it going over here?” Noah’s voice broke through the conversation. You hadn’t noticed his approach and it caught you by surprise.
“Good,” you said.
“Awesome. I’m Noah,” he said, extending his hand toward Isaac, who took note of all the ink covering it. Your throat tightened, already knowing the interaction was about to go poorly.
“Isaac,” he said, grabbing Noah’s hand and giving him a once-over. Noah had at least a good four inches of height over him and Isaac seemed to take his existence as a threat.
“Nice to meet you, Isaac.”
Noah’s face didn’t betray him, but you knew in your gut that he was putting two-and-two together based on the story you’d told him last week.
“Who is this?” said Nick, striding up to join the conversation. You bit the inside of your cheek. Your mediation skills were good, but you weren’t sure if you could fend off any potential conflict given how strong the three personalities before you were.
You bit the bullet and introduced them.
“Nick,” you said, forcing a polite smile, “this is Isaac. He plays guitar for the praise and worship band.”
You saw the slow realization dawn on him like a wave crossing over his features. His eyebrows lifted up towards his forehead, eyes widened, and mouth dropped open in that order before he composed himself.
“Isaac,” he said, grabbing the man’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Congrats, man. Wow, playing guitar for the worship band. That’s a great position. Really prestigious.” You could tell he was absolutely tickled by the opportunity to scope out the man he’d called a coward a week ago.
“Thanks,” said Isaac flatly, catching on to the fact that Nick was not actually impressed.
“Noah,” you said. “Why don’t you take Nick and get him started on raking? Once you’ve finished, you can dust.” Noah, to his credit, nodded and did his best to direct his friend towards the back of the facility.
“Anything for you, Mary,” Nick said softly, sly grin playing on the corner of his mouth.
“Mary?” asked Isaac.
“I’ll tell you later,” you said walking down the steps of the small stage. “Hey, I actually need to get back to overseeing this. I’ll catch up with you later? Hope you find your pedal.” You knew your words were coming out anxious and rushed, but you were desperate for this interaction to end.
“See you at church tomorrow?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
“You know, I might join you guys,” called Nick as he was led away from the stage and into the hallway. “I’ve been thinking about giving my life to Christ!” he managed to spit out just before the door slammed shut.
You and Isaac fell into a tense silence. You focused on breathing in slowly through your nose, hoping to dispel some of the unease.
“So that’s who you’re spending your Saturdays with,” he said. It was an observation as well as a judgement, rather than a question.
“I know they’re not exactly the best company to keep,” you admitted. “But I think this is important for them.”
“I don’t like it,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna talk to your dad and see if he’ll let me take over.”
“No!” you said in a rush.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I just feel like you wouldn’t mesh well. They’d be too threatened by your,” you searched your brain to come up with a word that would suffice, “…masculinity.”
It felt gross coming out, but did the trick.
“Hm. Yeah, I could see how that might be a problem,” he said, immediately surrendering. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes.
“Listen, I think you better come back later for your pedal,” you said. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I have it under control. I need you to trust me.”
He looked at you warily. “You sure? You’re not going to be influenced?”
“Do you really think so little of me?”
“No,” he said. “I just…care about you is all.”
There was that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach again. Two weeks ago, hearing those words would have thrilled you. Why was it that they came as soon as your interest in him had begun to wane?
“Thank you,” you said. “But I’ve got this.”
He gave you one final nod of agreement before heading out the side door. Once he was gone, you sighed and sunk down to sit on the steps leading up to the stage. A moment later, Noah padded back into the room. He sat down next to you wordlessly and joined you in staring at the ground.
“So that’s Isaac,” you said eventually.
“Well, he seems great,” said Noah with mock enthusiasm. You glanced over at him and caught the cheeky grin he flashed. The tension diffused and you smiled back at him, soft laughter escaping.
“Sorry about Nick,” he said. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”
“Sorry about Isaac,” you replied. “He can be closed-minded.”
He huffed in agreement. “I’m familiar with his type.”
“Did you run into that at your old church?” you asked. He leaned back so he could rest his upper body on the stage platform, long legs stretched out over the steps, tucking his palms underneath his head. On their own accord, your eyes scanned over his chest and triceps. If he caught you, he didn’t say anything.
“You could say that.”
“Noah,” you asked, watching him watch the ceiling above him. “Why did you leave the church?”
“You really want to know?” he asked, taking a break from staring at the light fixtures to meet your eyes. You nodded. He smirked to himself and went back to looking at the lights.
“They told me I couldn’t masturbate.”
You felt your jaw drop in real time.
“What?!” you said.
Soft laughter escaped from him. “I’m kidding. I mean, it was definitely one of the reasons, but that was the final straw for me.”
You said nothing, still in shock from his admission.
“This is why I wasn’t going to tell you,” he said. “I knew you’d be scandalized.”
“Just give me a second,” you said. “This is new territory for me.”
“They don’t talk much about that in Sunday School, I’m guessing?”
You swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. “Not really.”
He laughed again. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” He turned to face you. “The church is full of shit, and they don’t know anything about what it means to live a good life. Especially when it comes to that kind of stuff.”
“What do you mean?” you asked.
He sat up again. “I mean that they fuck a lot of people up without even realizing it. They talk about sex like it’s a bad thing that you should be ashamed of for wanting and try to make you feel awful about exploring you own body. Do you know what kinds of complexes that gives to a person? No wonder there’s so much sexual abuse happening in the church.”
“I think you lost me,” you said.
Noah sighed and collected himself. “Nobody should be made to feel ashamed of their own humanity. Or their body’s natural sexual response. When I was fourteen, my grandma caught me masturbating and sent me to confessional. I told the priest about it, and he called me a sinner and said I should never do it again. My grandma gave me all this shit about it being unclean and how I should be ashamed of myself for how little self-control I had.”
“Oh,” you said.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I was just a kid. I was going through puberty,” he said, emotion creeping into his voice. “I was discovering my body—something that’s normal and healthy for a kid of that age—and was made to feel like I was some kind of sick pervert for it. And I believed them at first, until it got to be too much.”
“What happened?” you asked.
“I met my friend Ruffilo. He hadn’t been raised in a church, and didn’t have any shame over his sexuality. And then I got tired of hating myself. Figured it was better for me to just hate the church instead. I moved out of my grandparents’ and in with Nick.”
“That Nick?” you gestured out the door to where the man in question was supposed to be raking leaves.
He shook his head. “Different Nick. Nick Ruffilo. That’s Nick Folio. Met him later.”
“Sounds confusing,” you said.
“It can be.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you said.
“I know it probably sounds silly to you, but it really fucked me up for a while.”
“It’s not silly.” You were unable to form a more sophisticated thought. Your brain was working on overdrive trying to process the information.
Unbeknownst to him, Noah’s story was eerily similar to your own, but you were still stuck in the guilt and shame, and it had never occurred to you that there might be something on the other side of that.
You’d masturbated before, but not much. And every time it had happened, you broke down in tears, asking God to forgive you because you were afraid you’d either be sent to hell, or God would punish you some other way for your lack of self-control, like not having a chance with Isaac.
The idea that you might not be a terrible and perverted person for having done it was new to you. And that it was something other people had trouble controlling as well. You just assumed you were uniquely bad.
“There was a lot more that went into me leaving the church, but that was the nail in the coffin. I’d been on my way out for a while before then.”
“I guess that explains some of your anger,” you said, wanting to ask him more about what happened, but not wanting to press him too much. He was still a private person, and you were lucky to have gotten that much out of him.
“What I can’t understand is how I seem to be the only one who’s angry.”
“I don’t think you’re the only one,” you said, suddenly noticing how you and Noah seemed to have grown closer in proximity.
“You’re not angry,” he observed.
“I,” you began, “I don’t know what I feel.”
“What’s your take on it?” he asked.
You swallowed heavy, a hard lump having formed in your throat. Your hands were clammier than they had been earlier.
“I don’t know,” you said, wishing the stage would open up and swallow you whole so you could escape the very intense look Noah gave you.
“If you want me to have these uncomfortable conversations about faith, I need you to meet me halfway.”
You groaned in protest, but he had you cornered and you both knew it.
Even still, it took you a few tense moments before you could finally speak.
“I have a lot of shame,” you eventually confessed. “And up until this conversation I assumed it was deserved. But now I’m starting to question it.”
“Have you ever—?”
You nodded before he could finish his question. “I have. But each time was difficult for me to accept.”
You paused to give him an opportunity to respond, but he stayed quietly attentive, waiting for you to continue.
“I…thought God would punish me.”
“Punish you how?”
“I don’t want to say,” you said, flushing.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m not going judge.”
“You will when I tell you,” you said. The energy around the both of you had at last shifted to playful again, which was a breath of fresh air after how charged the last few minutes had been.
“Is it really that bad?”
You nodded.
“Please?” he asked. “I told you my secret.”
“I already paid you back for that,” you said.
He groaned and threw his head back. “Come on!”
Something about seeing this heavily-tattooed grown man acting like an impatient little puppy had you softening, and though you knew he probably used this tactic often to get what he wanted, you couldn’t help but give in.
“Promise you won’t judge?”
He nodded, a tendril of hair slipping out from behind his ear to swoop over his face.
You sighed, locking eyes with him once more for confirmation that he was serious.
“I thought that if I was a good enough Christian, God would reward me by…directing a certain person towards me.”
His face lit up with slow realization.
“That dude?” he said.
You nodded.
He laughed a deep belly laugh.
“So you thought that if you didn’t masturbate, you’d be able to date Isaac?”
“You said you wouldn’t judge!” you whined.
“You were right, you definitely shouldn’t have told me.”
You hung your head, pressing your face into your palms to quell your embarrassment.
“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” you said, voice coming out muffled. “I guess it sounds kind of silly when I say it out loud.”
“Okay,” he prefaced, voice vibrating with the remnants of laughter. “Calm down. I’m not judging you for having thought that. It makes a lot of sense considering the messaging you received. But that guy? Really?”
You looked up finally to meet his eye. His mouth still held the hint of a smile, but there was more sincerity in his eyes than there had been before.
“In my defense, the pickings are slim in the church.”
“You can do better than him.”
Noah swished his hair out of his face and your eyes followed the motion, taking in his body language. He leaned casually forward, resting his elbows on his knees, body half-turned toward you. When the moment grew too heavy, he leaned back against the stage again and switched from looking at you to staring at the back of the room.
“You shouldn’t be so ruled by fear,” he said.
You released a large breath. “You’re probably right.”
“Do you want some advice?” he asked.
“I suppose.”
“Masturbate. Do it without the guilt. Do it as a gift to yourself for having tried so hard for so long to be perfect. Treat it like something you deserve. A way to show yourself love.”
You sighed and laid back on the steps, kicking your feet out in front of you. “I don’t know. It’s been so long I feel like I’ve lost touch with that part of myself.”
“So find it.”
You half-scoffed. “That sounds great and all, but I don’t think it’ll be that easy to undo years of guilt and shame. And I don’t even know if I trust what you’re saying. You could just be trying to corrupt me.”
“Oh, I’m definitely trying to corrupt you,” he said. “But not for any hidden agenda. Just because I feel like you could use a little corrupting.”
You looked up at Noah. He half leaned over you, long hair tied back into a low knot that spilled over his shoulder. From where you lay, you could smell essential oil and some sort of incense that you couldn’t quite place.
He held eye contact with you until your eyes traveled down his face to his lips, which pressed together as he swallowed and then parted softly.
“Ehem.”
The sound came from the back of the room, where Nick was leaning on his rake and watching with unconcealed judgement.
“I’m done with raking.”
You and Noah jerked apart, both sitting up and avoiding looking at each other. Noah ran his hands over his thighs, straightening the legs of his jeans. You stood up and walked down the steps towards the back.
“Okay. It looks like it’s almost noon anyway, so why don’t we call it quits for today? Good job, guys. I’ll see you next week.”
Noah hesitated for a moment, but then bid you goodbye and walked out with Nick, who clapped him on the shoulder and muttered something to him that you didn’t catch.
____________
“You motherfucker,” said Nick. It came out friendly, but Noah caught a hidden bite in the hard consonants. “You said you weren’t going to try with her.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Noah said. “We were just talking.”
“About what?” said Nick.
“Church, if you must know.”
“Yeah, it looked like you were getting real deep into religion from where I was standing.” Nick crossed his arms and fixed Noah with a hard stare that Noah didn’t have the bravado to return.
“Dude. I called dibs. How can you not respect the sanctity of dibs?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t work for human beings.”
“It has in the past. Remember Steph?”
“You mean Stacy?” Noah said with a raised eyebrow.
“Sure. You called dibs on her and I respected it.”
Noah felt cornered. He didn’t want to be a hypocrite to his friend, because Nick was right. Noah had done that in the past, and it wasn’t even that long ago, but this felt different. It didn’t sit well with him to treat you like an object. His opinion had changed in a way his friends wouldn’t appreciate, and if he brought it up, they would just say he was only taking the moral high ground to get out of their deal.
“What will it take to get you to drop this?” Noah asked.
“Join in on the bet.”
“I’m not betting someone’s virginity.”
“I’m gonna try to get it regardless, so you can either join in, or you can respect the dibs.”
“Whatever man,” said Noah, having run out of legitimate responses or ways to end this conversation. He stalked off towards his room.
“I’m taking that as a yes,” Nick said to the back of Noah’s head.
“It’s not a yes!” called Noah, already halfway down the hallway.
“Sounds like a yes to me.”
“Let me know when you’ve got your head out of your ass,” Noah replied before slamming the door shut.
Once in the privacy of his room, Noah sank down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was becoming a regular pastime of his at this point. His thoughts drifted to you and how innocent and doe-eyed you looked staring up at him, regretting that he didn’t kiss you.
He understood the appeal Nick saw. There was no denying how badly you needed it, and how much he wanted to be the one to give it to you.
But you weren’t ready, and he knew it. If he tried anything now, you’d probably have a panic attack about going to hell and he’d have to walk you through it. He didn’t know if he had the emotional capacity to do that, and Nick sure as hell didn’t.
Besides, he had other ways of getting his needs met. There was no shortage of women hitting him up throughout the week, and he could have his pick of any of them if he wanted.
So why hadn’t he returned their texts?
He rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow, and thought about his old church for the first time in ages.
There was a time when he truly believed. He was an active part of the youth group. Went to Sunday school every week. Participated in vacation bible school and church summer camp. Sung his heart out during hymns hoping God would hear him and be pleased. He’d felt so sure of his beliefs.
Now it was so different. He didn’t know what he believed. Wasn’t sure if he even believed in anything at all, except for the fact that man was inherently evil at heart, and if there was a god, he was an asshole for allowing all that evil to take place.
No. He didn’t even believe that. Because there was no way you were inherently evil. You were driven by a deep desire to do good and help the people around you.
So what did he believe, then? He had no idea, but he wished he did. He knew he didn’t believe in the Christian god he’d been taught to follow. There was so much wrong with it. At times he found himself wishing he could believe, but what was once blind faith had long since been replaced with blind rage he couldn’t seem to let go of, no matter what he did.
Growing tired of his room, he huffed and hoisted himself up off his bed. There was only one place where he could truly work through these feelings—his studio.
___________
The studio was very much a makeshift thing. It was set up in an old storage shed in the back yard of Jolly’s house. Noah had spent hours soundproofing and insulating the place. A small space heater in the corner was the only source of warmth, but he didn’t care. When he was inside the studio, nothing could touch him.
He sat in front of his keyboard and allowed his fingers to gloss over the keys. When they found where they wanted to go, he pressed them into the instrument, fingers striking a familiar chord. He moved them over to the next chord. Then the next. And the next. A somber chord progression broke out without him directing it. Noah let his mind relax as his hands took over and he was no longer a person, just a vessel through which music played itself.
He liked you.
His right hand began playing a soft melody while the left kept up with the chord progression.
It’s been a long time since he had liked someone in any significant way. He was used to people disappointing him.
The volume grew louder, soft notes giving way to an intense, heavy rhythm.
He wanted to protect you from Nick. From others who would see your goodness and try to bring you down to their level. Or use you for their own gain, but he knew it wasn’t his place to get involved. That you were your own person and could make decisions for yourself.
The tempo increased, melody full and moody, with an uncomfortable dissonance that longed to be resolved.
Throughout your life, other people had undoubtedly been making decisions for you. Telling you what to think. What to believe. Who you could spend your time with. The last thing he wanted was to join the ranks of people thinking they knew what was best for you.
His hands violently struck a suspended chord, allowing it to reverberate throughout the room for several beats, before his fingers went back to playing the somber melody from earlier. This time, slower paced and softer.
You were so vulnerable. Your willpower untested, and you had no experience to go on. It would have been so easy for him to take you, right then and there on the stage of the worship center. He could see it in your eyes how badly you wanted it.
His fingers slowed, allowing the melody to come to a close all on its own. He held out the final chord for as long as it would make sound, before switching off the power and leaning back into his chair.
Perhaps he wasn’t giving you enough credit. You had a good head on your shoulders, and seemed to know yourself. You weren’t afraid to question things when they didn’t feel right or genuine, and you saw through a lot of the bullshit that the church had tried to teach you (though your judgement was questionable when it came to taste in men and your own sexuality).
He heaved a sigh. Maybe he was being overprotective. There was nothing that he could say or do to stop Nick from pursuing you. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to encourage you to enforce boundaries and learn to recognize when people had ulterior motives. After that, he just had to trust you to make your own decisions.
He could live with that.
He switched the power on the keyboard back on, connecting it to his laptop and opened up the familiar program. He pressed the record button and began playing the chord progression again, hoping he could at least get a good song out of this.
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