#on the other hand the swamp is empty and you have to do all the thriving | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

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liveontelevision · 3 months

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Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader

My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3

Preview:

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

•••

You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.

He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.

Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.

No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.

When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.

"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.

"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.

It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.

"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.

He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.

"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.

"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.

"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.

His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.

"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.

"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.

"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.

" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close- but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -

He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.

"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.

"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"

"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.

"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.

After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.

"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.

Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.

"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.

" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.

"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.

"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.

He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.

"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.

"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.

"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.

He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.

He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.

"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.

"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.

He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.

"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.

"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.

"Alastor? Love?"

you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.

"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.

He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.

"If you insist, Love.."

He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.

He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.

Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.

"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.

"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.

"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut

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griffonsgrove · 4 months

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Hi I saw your request for Hazbin Hotel I watched it and I'm simping for Alastor and was wondering if you could do Alastor x fem or gn reader where Alastor uses his radio static like white noise to calm down the reader when they have sensitivity overload or a panic attack or just to destress sorry if this is worded bad

Radio Static || Alastor x GN!Reader

a/n: Hiya!! This was a super sweet request to make! I myself get easily overwhelmed, especially with big groups of people, and it's comforting to finally get away from all the noise and interactions! Please enjoy this cute little oneshot! Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Wordcount: 691 Cw: minor hazbin spoilers

It had nearly been a week since Sir Pentious was welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel, by none other than the princess of hell, Charlie. She had decided to throw a small little get-together to celebrate. The princess had such an eccentric, bubbly personality, it was hard to ever say no to her. You were never one for parties, your sensitivity to the constant noise, the vibrant colors, and the chaotic atmosphere sometimes became too much to bear. It was during one of these moments that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, noticed your distress.

You had retreated to a quiet corner, trying to find solace in the midst of the infernal commotion. Alastor, ever perceptive to the emotions swirling around him, followed you with a keen interest. Seeing the subtle signs of your discomfort, he decided to offer an unconventional remedy.

Alastor approaches you with his trademark grin, his red eyes gleaming with an unusual warmth. "Why, what seems to be the matter, my dear?" he inquired, his voice holding that dazzling charm he always seems to have. You struggled to find the words, but the overwhelmed expression on your face spoke volumes. Sensing your need for relief, Alastor's grin widened, with the wave of his hand, he quietly motions for you to follow him. "Come now, don't you worry. I have just the thing for such occasions." He abruptly turns on his heel, delving deeper into the depths of the hotel.

You’re skeptical at first, but willing to try anything at this point, you decide to follow him. He leads you down a series of hallways, the sounds of the other patrons begin to slowly fade away as you walk. He stops in front of an intricately carved door; you didn't have much time to admire the craftsmanship before he opens it. You tilt your head to the side to peer over his shoulder. It seemed to be his private den. There's a little sitting area, in front of a small fireplace, which was adorned with all sorts of knickknacks, the most notable being a large rack of antlers mounted on the wall above, but what caught you off guard completely was the other entire half of his room, it was a swamp! Literally, the wood flooring splintered off into lush grass, and numerous cypress trees can be seen looming in the distance, the trunks covered in a thick moss.

Alastor steps to the side, politely gesturing for you to enter first. With slight hesitancy, you step inside quietly, taking note of all the framed pictures that hung on the wall.

His voice cuts through the silence "Sit, my dear. Allow me to ease your troubled mind," he motions to one of the empty padded chairs. You oblige, sitting down on the plush cushion. With the snap of his fingers, He conjures up his vintage radio, the static already emitting a soothing white noise. For a moment he fiddles with the dial, adjusting the frequency. Soft static filled the air, drowning out the overwhelming sounds from earlier. At first, it seemed odd, but as the white noise enveloped you, a surprising sense of calm washed over.

Alastor sat across from you, his eyes never leaving your face as he observed the way you slowly sank back into the padded chair. The radio static acted as a protective cocoon, shielding you from the sensory onslaught. His presence was oddly comforting, and you found yourself relaxing under the influence of the unusual but effective remedy.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence. You weren't entirely sure how much time had passed, minutes? hours?, the static acting as a barrier between you and the chaotic world. Alastor broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "Remarkable, isn't it? The power of a little radio magic."

You managed a grateful smile, genuinely appreciating the respite he provided. It was an unexpected yet strangely effective solution to your sensitivity overload. As the static continued its comforting hum, you felt a sense of gratitude toward the Radio Demon who, in his own peculiar way, had offered you a moment of peace in the midst of the Hotel’s pandemonium. You remind yourself to apologize to Charlie later for leaving the party so abruptly.

#x reader #headcanons #oneshot #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelalastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon

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quickandsilvers · 22 days

Text

The Spy Who Loved Me

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Getting stuck in an elevator with a world-renowned Xman wasn’t on your 1984 bingo card. Guess you’ll just have to watch the hours tick by on Peter Maximoff’s ‘aces as fuck’ scooby doo watch. Ruh roh.

Warnings: a few sexual innuendos, awkward Peter (what’s new?), pining and flirting blah blah blah

Word Count: 6604

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 @pretzel-bunnie @icannot3 @bluerthanvelvet444

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Autumn, 1983. 9:32 PM.

As the amber glow of the sun casted its final rays upon the skyscrapers of New York, nightlife was in its full swing. With bustling crowds congregating inside bars and nightclubs, the thunderous bass of pulsating music infiltrated the streets, cranked up to a volume that would cause most to go prematurely deaf. It was both exhilarating and overwhelming.

And yet here you were in one of New York’s many Federal Bureau’s, swamped up in piles upon piles of paperwork, empty coffee cups and inkless biros.

The irony was not lost on you; your version of nightlife was much less enthralling than the lively congregation outside. The vibrant atmosphere was in sharp contrast to the monotony offices of the government building, where the only sounds that accompanied your sleepless nights were the tapping of keyboard keys and the rustle of pages turning as you pored over the endless stream of reports assigned to your person. It involved much more papercuts and sleep-deprived hours of endless jotting down and thinking galore.

Oh, so much thinking. Why couldn’t criminals make your life easier and be a bit dumber, huh?

Your limbs felt leaden with fatigue as you stepped onto the elevator on your floor, clutching papers in your hands tightly. The day had been painstakingly drawn-out, and yet you still had more grueling hours of paperwork waiting to be completed. Shifting awkwardly, you bundle the stack of paper in your hands into one arm, using the other to strain forward and press your floor number. Stepping back with a relieved sigh, you rest against the cool elevator wall for a few moments of much-needed peace.

The lift in your precinct was relatively new, a far cry from the ancient clunkers that polluted much of New York. It was constructed with a considerable amount of precautions and safety features after the Pentagon debacle back in 1973.

News broke out about a group of mutants slipping past security and breaking out the most dangerous mutant extremist known to man: Erik Lensherr. Aka Magneto. Aka totally-terrifying-and-would-definitely-make-you-barf-out-if-you-ever-saw-him-in-person.

Since the television broadcast of that day had instilled copious amounts of fear and paranoia for government safety and security, all federal structures had been fortified beyond necessity.

You’d argue that it was rather pointless though, considering the fact that the main culprit of the offense was now a bigshot, crime-fighting, golden retriever-esque Xman, who spent his days teaching total babes how to play Mrs. Pacman in the arcade. His felon days were over, exclusive of the frequent petty theft misdemeanors you found yourself documenting more times than you could count.

That’s right, you. Of all people, you were assigned the job to file all reported items Peter Maximoff had got his speedy hands on. From road signs to whole arcade machines, you were left documenting his shenanigans night and day, feeling as though you were one binder away from being put in a straight jacket.

You would be lying if you said you expected this task, working for a major federal agency, no less. Petty theft crimes were most often dealt with by the numerous police precincts in the city, however the government decided that the renowned speedster was a different story and needed to be dealt with “efficiently.”

Hah. Efficiently, your ass.

You mourned the times you could’ve simply been doing nothing at home instead of sending out forms for the speedster to sign for his pardoning. After all, it wasn’t like you could take any further action against someone who frequently saved the world from total destruction. The forms were only a mere slap on the wrist to the Xman, and moral condemnation had no effect on someone who had the freedom to act as he saw fit.

But that wasn’t your problem. Atleast, not for the next 48 hours. If you really cracked down, you could knock these forms out in a few hours, having the rest of your weekend dedicated to rotting on your couch, trying to get through as many seinfeld seasons as possible until your dreaded return back to work. A night in with sitcoms and unhealthy, borderline radioactive takeaways was all you needed right now.

You patiently wait for the doors to move, sealing your work week to a close in its mechanical grasp. Just as they begin to whirr shut, a blurred hand sticks through the gap, waving up and down rapidly for the sensors to detect its presence. They begin to open once again, and your eyes laid upon a broken-legged man. He possessed a bizarre pair of crutches adorned in stickers, and not to mention a peculiar taste in fashion. In fact, he practically blended in with the elevator walls, somewhat like a chameleon.

Peter Maximoff. Quicksilver. Hero to all. A royal pain in your ass. You were probably holding several of his reports in your hands right now.

Was he trying to haunt you wherever you go? If so, he’s doing a damn good job at it.

You gawk as he hobbles in, seemingly unaware of your existence as he leans up against the back wall, leaving his crutches standing up beside him. With a motorola dynatac in his hand, Peter’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he grins into his cellphone.

“Look Scotty, pick a side, dude. Yer get mad when i use Charles’ card at kohl’s…yes use.. I don’t fuckin’ leech off of it!..., but yer also get mad when I try cookin’ fer myself fer once!” He waits impatiently for a second, shifting the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he balances back onto his crutches.

Peter sighs after a long pause, “I know I left the stove on, but what can my impaired self do in that situation? What else do yer want me to say?” Peter rolled his eyes, albeit grinning. “..C’mon, It wasn't that bad, it was just a lil’ flare up! Ororo handled the blaze, and it was nothin’ compared to jeans disaster in the danger room.”

Something about the way Peter spoke was so casually amusing. He always seemed unfazed by his life's predicaments - never really taking anything all that seriously. He was unapologetically himself and had this carefree attitude that you envied more than you'd like to admit.

Absent-mindedly sifting through your papers, you contemplate the situation, wondering what Peter could’ve possibly done to anger Cyclops to that extent. He seemed to have read your mind though, as he pfftbs, lolling his head back lazily onto the elevator wall.

“The cabinets aren’t that fucked up! Just because yer lead training sessions now doesn’t mean ya can boss me arou-“

CRASH!

The loud sound resonates around the small space as you jump, a few papers going awol and falling to your feet. You reach down immediately, scrambling to pick them up.

Peter flinched as his ear was pressed into the speaker; as a result, his phone began to slide down from his shoulder. He caught it with the side of his face, wide-eyed and neck craned in a way you can’t imagine is comfortable.

“...What was that?”

“The cabinets.” A gruff, new voice sounded from Peter’s phone, unimpressed and beyond fed up with his bullshit. Peter, throwing his head back, barked out something between a wheeze and a snort, clearly thriving off his buddies’ misery.

Reaching out, you stetch to grasp a rogue file that had fallen by the speedsters feet. Hearing his giggles subside, you look up to see a wide-eyed Peter. He leans against the wall to use a free hand, grabbing his phone as he glances at your position with cheeks dusted pink, perplexed.

Just then, you realise that you are face-level with his crotch. Zoinks.

You both remain in deadly silent prolonged eye contact at the altercation, and you can only assume that your complexion is equivalent to that of a tomato, only further adding to your humiliation. Squeaking a small ‘sorry’, you immediately turn away and stand up, returning to your claimed spot of the elevator with askew papers bundled in your arms. The speedster’s scent followed you as you retreated, almost enticing you closer as the aroma of sweet cinnamon and natural leather seized your senses, lingering around the room.

Peter took advantage of your avoidant gaze to sneak a glance at the hella cute girl he had been totally unaware of. He takes a mega quick glance at his super cool green and blue Scooby Doo watch. A nice pop of colour to his metallic ensemble. The time read 9:47.

Four minutes. Four long, long minutes that he had been ranting like a lunatic down his phone, without the knowledge that an ultra-hot babe was standing next to him, probably confused and now completely put-off by his antics.

Why was she lookin’ at his junk, anyways? Did he forget to zip his fly? His head whips down. Nope. Wait. Was he hard? His head whips down again. Nope. Not yet, atleast.

Huh. Guess some groupees are just hella intense.

Peter’s mind reeled back to a few minutes prior. He didn’t do anythin’ embarrassing, did he? You probably thought he was a mess.

Oh fuck, did he look like a mess?

A blurred hand moves to fix his untamed mane, but only messes it up further as he moves it out of his eyes and in opposing directions. An angered muffle sounds through the speaker and Peter brings it up to his mouth with a stutter.

“I- I gotta go, Wolvie!” He panics, watching your fingers as they attentively sift through your stack of papers. The voice on the other end protests immediately, making explicit threats to the speedster. The sound of creaking hinges and snapping wood made him wince. But hey, there wasn’t much that he could do now, other than get his ass handed to him upon his arrival at the mansion.

Peter cuffs his hand over the phone speaker and makes a muffled sound, feigning losing connection.

“My service must be cuttin’ out dude! Talk time is runnin’ out too!” Peter paused to make more sounds, really selling his story. “Sorry man, nothin’ I can do ‘bout that! Tell Charlie Brown I'm mega sorry and I'm comin’ as quick as a one-legged man can go!” He makes kissy noises down the phone, only further angering the shouting man on the other side.

You definitely thought he was a mess.

Peter hung up abruptly and swallowed, looking towards you with a sheepish grin and gesturing his Motorola towards you. “That guy, huh?” He scoffs awkwardly, somehow stuffing the brick of a phone halfway into his pocket before running a hand through his hair once more.

It’s funny, really. Despite the amount of groupees wanting him to sign every limb on their bodies, Peter never gets any better at this. The talking-to-women thing, that is. Not to toot his own horn or anything, but Peter considers himself a master of scribbling on polyester brassiere. It was always the same thing; the initials ‘QS’ with the tail shaped like a lightning bolt, and a first-class smiley face on the side.

You let out a breathy laugh, about to ask what exactly he had done to assault the communal kitchen in such a way, before you stop yourself. Despite the loud conversation, you weren’t sure if you should bring up a private phone call. Instead, you respond with a curt nod.

Peter liked your laugh. It was a breath of fresh air within the cramped elevator, and certainly sounded better than the obnoxious honks Scott emitted, sounding somewhat like a vehicle. He guessed that Scott’s laugh simply replicated his engineerical profession. If that was true, Peter thinks you must work alongside angels sent from heaven itself. Hell, he’d volunteer to be your magical harp in an instant. Would let you play with him anytime. Hah.

As Peter opened his mouth to speak, an abrupt jolt sent you wobbling back into the wall before he could get a word in. He lets out an involuntary ‘eh?’ in confusion as the phone in his pocket tumbles to the floor, the antenna snapping off. Another lurch of the elevator and it came to a halt, cutting out with an ear-splitting creak.

The elevator had not yet reached a point beyond the metal walls outside, where you could see out the large window panes. Panic surged through you as the confined space seemed to shrink further. The silence in the elevator was deafening, and the uncertainty of the situation only heightened your anxiety. You couldn't muster the courage to look up at the speedster, fearing his reaction to the predicament.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, its calmness providing perhaps a glimmer of reassurance.

“Huh. The elevator stopped.” He hums in a matter-of-factly tone. Okay, maybe not. What do you have on you to salvage? Maybe a scrunched up, expired airhead in the depths of your pockets? Would that get you through the night?

Using a sticker-adorned crutch to reach the panel, Peter abused the call button before pressing the ground floor, both controls ceasing to function.

“Yer gotta be shittin’ me, it's stuck!” He groans, a little more panicked now “Wolvie’s not gonna believe me! Fuck!”

You attempt to swallow your nerves, yet fail as you stare at your feet. Peter, however, seemed more worried about the reaction of his superior than the fact he was trapped in a confined space by heavily reinforced elevator doors. Doors that could keep you locked in here for the foreseeable future. Would that be so bad? You weren’t a die-hard Quicksilver fangirl to say the least, but the man certainly wasn’t half bad to look at. Oh, but you’d kill to be binging seinfeld right now.

Trailing your gaze back up, your eyebrows furrow as you bear witness to said man attempting to pry the elevator doors open. You watch on as Peter anchors his good foot onto the side of the door for leverage, all whilst reciting murmurs of self-motivational idioms. He releases a choked-off groan. You chalk it up to either his effort into opening the door or his injured leg supporting the rest of his body. Either way, the speedsters' attempts were fruitless.

For what seems like an eternity, you open and close your mouth much like a fish out of water, completely baffled at the sight before you. And maybe even more so baffled as you intently ogle the bulge of the speedster’s biceps through his jacket, contracting and straining from his efforts.

Okay, wow. Keep it profesh, dude. Don’t you hate this guy?

You clear your throat, preparing to pose a question. Peter immediately whips his head around to face you, remaining in the same awkward position as he relaxed into a lazy smirk, despite his red cheeks and heaving chest. He tilts his head to the side, kindly signaling you to say something.

“Are you sure it's broken?" You ask softly, your voice perhaps quieter than you expected it to be, "Have you tried the fire alarm or stop button?”

Silence followed for a moment, and you felt yourself tense up.

“ ‘course babe,” Peter answers, relaxing his hand for a second to rest it against the door. “But have no fear. Who needs a stupid fire alarm when you have me?” He graced you with an award-winning grin, jutting out a thumb to eagerly point to himself. You ease up a little, humming as a flash of light reflecting off his watch catches your eye. A grinning Scooby Doo stares back at you and you resist the urge to laugh, comparing the speedster more to Scooby’s miniature counterpart; Scrappy.

Another agonizing minute passes, and you continue to exchange glances as Peter occasionally looks over his shoulder towards you for reassurance. A smile lingered on his lips, it was warm, and you were tempted. Oh, so very tempted. Silence permeated the air as you stood there idly, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to inquire again.

With one final heave and the door moving not an inch, Peter stumbles back into the wall, a sigh of alleviation exiting his mouth as he relieves the pressure on his mending leg. With crimson cheeks he began to shrug off his metallic jacket, letting it drop to the floor next to him.

Peter’s gaze flickers up towards you guiltily, knowing that you were on edge in such a confined space and wanting to get out ASAP. You felt your heartstrings being tugged as he presses himself back into the wall, giving you as much space as possible in the cramped elevator. Somehow, you found that was the last thing you wanted.

Silence ensued again for a few moments too long. You felt a warmth in your face and looked away immediately, finding yourself swayed by a peculiar boyish charm.

You looked up as he blinked, silver eyelashes flickering in the overhead lights. Your heart leapt. Peter Maximoff had the charisma that many girls found hard to resist, and perhaps you were no different from any other groupee than you had thought.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here?” You manage to get out as his stare remains fixated on you.

“Until maintenance decides to do their job, I s’pose,” He responds with a chuckle, resting on the handrail behind him.

“Oh, okay,” You reply shortly, averting your eyes again as you copy his movements on your own handrail.

“I hope i'm not that terrible company, toots.” Peter strives to make a joke. It fell flat on its face however, as you only respond with a half-assed huff of laughter, running your hand through your hair worriedly.

“N-no, it’s not like that,” You assure, feeling slightly red. You see the corner of his eyes crinkle in your peripherals, a visible smile forming on his face.

“I’m sorry, I just feel a little claustrophobic right now,” You explain anxiously, watching the ceiling as if it were about to fall and seal your fate.

Peter’s smile faltered at your mental panic. “Hey, uh- it's okay, it's just a maintenance issue. The elevator’s not gonna fall er anythin’. There's like a.. bajillion failsafes, ya know?” He huffed another laugh, readjusting his crutches under his armpits. Your tension slightly eased as he acknowledged the tense circumstances, but you still couldn't shake off the nerves entirely. The sound of his voice brought an odd comfort, making you feel slightly less alone in this confined space.

“Hank was tellin’ me all about their mechanics on this long-ass drive to the Pentagon. Yer know the-'' You nod in confirmation, very familiar with the building “-yeah. We were there fer.. somethin’ totes legal and business related.” He swallows, grinning. You crack a knowing smile, showing the speedster that you knew exactly what he was talking about.

Peter focuses his attention towards his discarded silver jacket on the floor. Balancing on his crutches, he uses his good leg to splay the jacket out next to the back wall. He looks back up at you almost expectantly, grinning as you raise an eyebrow quizzically.

“D ’ya wanna sit? I don’t want yer hobbling around like me if we’re gonna be here fer a while.” He offers, gesturing his casted leg towards you with a playful scoff.

You accept, thanking him as he placed one of his crutches in the corner, using his free large hand to splay across the small of your back. He hobbled slightly as you shuffle backwards to slide down the wall. Gripping your shoulders for support, he shakily sits down next to you, legs splayed out as he rests his other crutch across his right thigh.

You flush at the newfound closeness, copying his stance as you stretch your legs out. In the process your foot kicks something solid, and you look back to see the motorola on the sleek metal floor, broken beyond repair. You feel almost guilty, despite doing nothing wrong.

“Sorry about your phone.” You say softly, giving the speedster a remorseful smile.

Peter returns with a genuine grin “It’s a-okay babe, don’t worry ‘bout it. I'll get Xavier ter buy me a new one” he waves you off nonchalantly “-a work-issued phone ‘er somethin’.”

“Shouldn't you be spending the professor’s money on something more worthwhile? A new kitchen, perhaps?” You tease, nudging the Xman’s shoulder with your own.

“Hand on heart, babe. Wasn't my fault!” Peter’s hand flies to the very right side of his body, the opposite end of where his vital organ actually was. “I was cookin’ fer the kiddos since they didn’t want ter go through with Hank’s taco tuesday night, bless ‘em, but it turns out i’m pretty inferior too.”

“Is it really that bad?” You ask, surprised “A man with six PhD’s can’t cook?”

Peter shudders, screwing his face up into a look of disgust as he lays a hand on top of your own, squeezing it as though he had undergone something traumatic. “His food is a mix of something bad and something.. even worse, babe. Hank’s too experimentative, ‘n that shit should stay in the lab. The man added eggplants to our enchiladas. Eggplants. How crazy is that?!”

You snort, throwing your head back in comfortable laughter as he giggled with you. “I mean, i’m a man that’ll eat anythin’ yer put in front of me. But that pairin’? C’mon!”

Snickering further, the thought of impending doom eased gradually out of your mind as you found yourself relaxing. Peter’s fingers drum against the back of your hand, instilling a calming flow as you focus on the rhythmic taps.

He clears his throat. “So uh- yer work here?” The speedster gestures to the ID hanging off your neck, your photo and FBI logo showing.

“Just your average desk jockey at the moment, but I'm training to be an espionage agent.” You nod after a brief pause “...hopefully.”

Peter caught your eye with a confused blink, tilting his head with a puzzled smile. You catch onto his perplexity, dumbing the definition down to much simpler terms. “A spy.”

He blinked again, this time in realisation. “That’s totally rad! Yer don’t look like one, though, so I was pretty confused. Thought yer were talkin’ ‘bout that snail food...”

“That’s escargot, Mr. Maximoff.” You snicker “And I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but we ‘spies’ aren't all wearing stilettos and gun holsters on our person.”

Peter grinned as his hand left yours to ruffle his hair, something you found him doing often. “Suit yerself. But if I was the bad guy and yer were in that getup, I’d let ya capture me in an instant.” The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly that you found yourself falling further into the figurative arms of his speedy grasp. “ ‘n scrap the ‘Mr. Maximoff’, babe. ‘M just Peter.”

A bright blush crept upon your face once more. You waved the speedster off dismissively, not used to having comments like that directed towards you, let alone by a man who belonged on the front cover of a People’s Sexiest Man Alive magazine.

“So, Peter,” You test out his name, enjoying the way it sounded as it left your mouth. He grinned dopily, liking it too. “Why are you here?”

Peter looks around to check the coast is clear before coercing you closer with two fingers, making a quick ‘c’mere’ motion. You oblige, his lips now inches from your ear and soft silvery hair brushing against your temple. “I could tell ya, but then I'd have to kill ya.” The soft whisper sent currents down your spine, and the speedster didn’t miss your shiver as he pulled back, winking.

Peter seemed to have sensed your flustered state, swiftly moving onto another topic. “Like actually though, yer an undercover spy. That’s sick!” Peter hyped you up.

You shrug dismissively “I-it’s not exactly like the films. I’m more of an investigator than what you’re thinking.. and I’m not out on the field much, if at all.”

“Damn, yer still gotta be a total whizz though, right? Ter work for a federal agency?” Peter questioned with a genuine intrigue in your profession, a dopey grin adorned on his lips.

You brush it off once more with a simple shrug and a giddy smile, albeit with a newfound warmth and pride in your heart at his interest. A pause prolongs throughout the cramped room as you lean your head back onto the wall, staring at the uncomfortable bright lights until your retinas are screaming for you to avert your gaze.

Peter put his hands behind his head, staring at his feet in thought. He cocked his head as he saw that his silver shoelaces had unraveled. Maybe he should've asked you to tie them whilst you were down there earlier, nuzzling and befriending his junk. He grinned, savoring the memory in his mind and preserving it in a metaphorical polythene sleeve, just like his beloved original mint-condition records at home.

Woah! Slow down there, Don Juan! This chick barely knows you!

A comfortable silence lingered in the air for a few moments more, before Peter gently nudged you with his shoulder, looking over at you whilst his head stood resting against the elevator wall.

“I could be yer Tiffany Case.”

You furrow your brows. What?

“Yunno, Diamonds are forever, ‘56? Sean Connery, Jill St. John? I could totally be yer main bond girl!” Peter reiterated, gesturing his hands in his hair like the bouffant style the woman was infamous for wearing.

You snort a true laugh at the thought, turning your head to face him. He was already looking at you, grinning at your reaction to his buffoonery.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way round?” You query. Peter shakes his head adamantly. “Nuh uh, Ms. Double agent. Besides, I'd totally rock it in a showy little corset dress, don’t cha think? The choker an’ all?” He quipped, seeming happily expectant for your answer.

You snort further and he gasped at you in mock offense, nudging you slightly with a half-hearted ‘hey!’, to which you shrug and state that you would be rather under-qualified for the job. Jumping out of moving cars and escaping the clutches of hungry alligators weren’t exactly your areas of expertise.

“Yer think? Ya more of a Velma, huh? It’s a-okay, ‘m flexible. I could be yer shaggy too, y’know?” Peter nudged you again, each contact of clothed skin sending bolts of electricity down your arm. You sensed that he was hinting at something, although very subtly, as he couldn’t flee if you shot him down. Like you ever would, that is.

“Oh please, you’d be scooby.. no, scrappy! The watch says it all.” You gesture. Peter raises his eyebrows, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes, surprised that you took the time to notice that little detail. Your remark wasn’t even a compliment, in fact it was meant to be taken as slander, but he paused for a moment as his heart thumped faster than usual, a little dazed.

The overhead elevator bulb flickered as Peter gazed at your face. He swore then he could see you in an entirely new light, in a way that had his hands going clammy and stomach leaping in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Peter watched, transfixed as your tongue glided across your lower lip, moisturizing them as your hands fiddled with the ID badge hanging around your neck. He wanted to hear you speak again.

“I’m callin’ bullshit, babe. In every spy movie the powerful female lead always carries her gun in a thigh holster. That’s just how it goes!” He shrugs “I mean, the only exception was this chick I met in ‘83. But I didn’t check if she had one, scout’s honour! She’s Charles’ girl.”

He carelessly flung three fingers in the air, knocking off the goggles that were once cushioned on his head in the process. He guessed they were slung somewhere across the elevator as your eyes trailed their path, but Peter paid them no mind. He cleared his throat awkwardly to grasp your attention.

You pfft, “Maybe you need to lay off the 007 films for now, no one wears anything like that.”

Peter squints his eyes, as if checking your own for signs of lying. “Whaddaya say yer let me check sometime? Ya sure yer got no secret compartments anywhere? Can't be too safe as an Xman, huh?”

“I Wouldn't be a very good bond if I was conspiring against my main girl, would I?” You tease, matching his expression. You gesture to his t-shirt, “And I’d never harm an Earth, Wind and Fire supporter.”

Peter’s eyes lit up as he sat further upright now, grasping your hand tightly. “Yer like Earth, Wind and Fire?!” You grin at his giddiness, “Hell yeah! I saw them back in ‘79.”

He squeezed your hand in his, sighing contently as he ruffled his hair with the other. “I like ya taste, and yer currently holding the hand of an incredibly handsome and painfully humble man, so yer taste in this department ain't half bad either, babe.” He shot you a grin.

You hit him slightly in the chest at his unbridled cockiness, but still not wanting to let go of his hand, and neither did he. His grip stayed intertwined with yours in a stalemate, both of you unwilling to relinquish. His gaze was just as unwilling, staring you down much like a fox.

All Peter wanted to do was make you smile again. To see you laugh again. It hurled him into the midst of a typhoon, with a zero percent chance of survival. He was right in the epicenter, the eye of the storm.

In true Scorpions fashion? You were rockin’ his emotions around like a hurricane, sending him into a love-struck frenzy. I mean, come on! It’s the 21st night of September, cupid! Little early sending those arrows, ain’t it bud?

In his daze, Peter barely registered the sudden clunk of the elevator. Not until you yelped and sunk your nails into the skin of his hand did he register the movement of the steel floor, and he gripped onto you even tighter. Tight enough that it surely hurt, but you didn’t protest as you shifted yourself onto your knees, using the handrail above to lift yourself up. With the aid of your hands, Peter eased out of his seated position, careful to not put any unnecessary pressure on his leg.

The lights on the buttons flicker on as you watch gleefully, the floor number beginning to move from seven to five, getting closer to your stop at the third floor. Your claustrophobic nightmare had come to an abrupt halt. Peter felt a strange sinking feeling in his stomach, though. As glad as he was to get back to the mansion, he wanted to stay with you. To get to know you.

He needed to see you again.

With a silent curse, Peter cleared his throat, “Hey, uh, babe?” You turn around expectantly. No backing out now, casanova. “Feel free ter totally hurl me down this elevator shaft or whip out your concealed gun if I'm wrong but- and yer never know when ya might need an elevator buddy again… so…” Nervousness clearly oozed from every fibre of his being, shown by his clammy hands and averted gaze, every unanswered second feeling like an hour.

Your clear confusion sent him into a malfunctioning frenzy. He just wanted this over with, yet he couldn’t find the words.

“Ijustwantedtoknowificouldpossiblyyyyyyygetyournumbermaybeandwecouldgooutttonadatee?” A jumbled string of words flies out of his mouth like word vomit. That wasn’t very Peter Franks of him.

His question completely flew over your head, and Peter mistook your taken-aback stature as rejection and his heart plummeted into a sad, mushy mess. As a wise Roos Tarpals once said: ‘Yousa in big doo-doo dis time.’

Peter immediately back-tracked himself, trying to ease the gauche tension that was gradually becoming more prominent. “Whaaaat?! Whosa spaked dat?!” Yeah, that oughta do it. Nice one, jar jar binks.

“Woah! Slow down, Motormouth! Not everyone is a Gungan. Tell me again.” You exclaimed, bewildered. The silence was permeable as you were waiting expectantly. His mouth went dry. Ooh mooie mooie, was it too quick to say that he might be in love with you? You understood his references. You were perfect, and now the pressure to not mess up was inordinate.

Peter hadn't felt this anxious before. Not when he fought Apocalypse on his own. Not when his матушка had walked in on him watching something totally not PG13. Not even when he asked Crystal Amaquelin out in 8th grade, via note, only for her to laugh and share the heartfelt message around with her rather intimidating gaggle of giggling friends.

The entire school knew about it in less than an hour, even Peter’s Civics teacher, Mr. Rivera, of whom then placed the younger speedster next to his unrequited crush for the remainder of the year. Gee, doesn’t he owe him for that one.

Peter had grown since then. He had completely put it past him soon after he had once removed all traces of putty from the windows in Mr. Rivera’s classroom, only for every pane to fall one by one as his favourite teacher slammed the door behind him. It was golden, and Crystal laughed too. Psscht, not like Peter cared anyway…

Was the yelling and exclusion worth it? Absolutely. Peter still felt a little bad about the fine mama Maximoff was given, though.

But truly, he had grown. A real glow up, infact. He bet that Crystal Amaquelin would now jump at the chance to go out with him, with the soft silver hair all his groupees fawned over and those fuckass reading glasses he had now gleefully parted from. And not to mention the severe hayfever that had plagued his summers as a child, where he would spend his days walking down the school corridor with his red, watery eyes and running nose.

Awh hell, why was he torturing himself with the thoughts of his younger, dorkier past? You were in front of him, waiting, absentmindedly chewing the inside of your cheek. Or perhaps it was a nervous tic? Either way, he’s got a good chance of blowing this with you. Slim to none odds of coming out of this with an in-tact ego.

Peter repeats his words. Atleast, he thinks he does. It was like the muscles in his jaw seemed to be doing all the talking involuntarily. Pfft. Even his body was sick of him. So why was he trying his dregs of luck with you? It seemed like you have a good life ahead of you, without the speedster whizzing past and leaving a whirlwind of destruction in his wake.

Whatever he said, Peter hopes it was coherent this time. And by judging the look in your face… well.. actually, no. He has no idea what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, and to put it frankly, it’s killing him. Cause of death? Interaction with a female. Peter would’ve been sure of his untimely demise if it weren’t for the pounding sound of blood pumping through his head.

Mere seconds go by. To Peter, it’s hours. He needs to check you’re still functioning. Embarrassed, the speedster rubs the back of his head, awkwardly grinning at you. A few silent moments to many, he finally breaks the tension by maturely asking:

“You aiiight?”

Upon hearing no response from you and seeing your flushed cheeks, his grin grew even wider as he snickered.“Whew- So, I guess that means I’m still good lookin’ enough ter make the ladies blush, huh?"

Peter’s deflecting. He knows it, and so do you. The sense of rejection is crashing down on him like an array of polished oak cabinets. And he’s just about to conjure all the strength he had left to pry open those pesky mechanical doors open when-

“You got a pen?” At long last, a response. Granted, it wasn’t exactly the yes or no Peter was expecting, but a response nonetheless.

Patiently, you watch as Peter scrambles for the blue felt tip marker in his trouser pocket, the one he used to colour in the dope skateboard one of the kiddos drew on his cast. He sighed in relief as he found it, thrusting it towards you with an award-winning, yet uneasy smile.

You thank him as you flick the lid off, scrawling your number in the corner of one of your documents. It was hard to remember your digits as Peter’s gaze burned into you, along with the sound of his shallow breathing. Amidst the tension, you couldn’t help but detect a tingling, giddy feeling in your stomach, transporting you back to your days as a teenager. Mustering a shy grin, you hand both the marker and paper back to him. Peter took it like it was priceless, immediately memorizing your number in his head in fear that it would somehow disappear off the page.

Peter knew that his dreamlike half-hour had come to an end when the elevator pinged at the third floor, gliding open effortlessly as if those very same doors weren’t sending Peter into an early retirement from trying to force them open. You hum cordially as you break away from the claustrophobic room, stepping into the monotony office that you’ve never been so elated to see again. You turn around, watching the speedster press the ground floor number with the end of his crutch. “Not your stop?”

Peter grimaces, sighing exuberantly “Nah, still got another couple floors with the mystery machine.” He pats the wall as if it were an old friend. It reverberates with a loud echo, making him wince. Just then, the doors begin to shut before you interfere, wedging your foot in between them so they detect your presence. They open back up again.

“You’ll call me, won’t you? If you have time?”

“Fer you? Anything. That’s a promise.” Oh boy, Peter’s turning into a lovefool already.

You grin “Don’t go breaking any more cabinets, Shaggy.” Your foot slides away from the elevator.

“Who, lil’ ol’ me?” Peter gasps in mock offense “Like, sorry Velms, but that's a promise I can't keep, man.” You giggle and he grins triumphantly, watching as the doors begin to close and you wave goodbye, hollering one last thing to the speedster.

“I hope mystery incorporated doesn’t give you much trouble!” Clunk.

Once again, Peter is left alone with his thoughts, accompanied only by the sounds of the conveyance machinery whirring down to the ground floor. He uses this time to fumble for his walkman on his belt, trapping his hair underneath his over-ear headphones. With a click he presses the play button, just in time as the elevator doors ping open once more.

Readjusting his grip on his crutches, Peter hobbles out of the building, the sounds of Aerosmith’s ‘Love In An Elevator’ blaring at full volume. He glances down with a smirk at the piece of paper you gave to him, documented with his name and recent items he had swiped from a local record store; and jackpot! Your number, clear as day, scrawled onto it. Finally.

Peter knew his plan would work someday. He sorta had a knack for this spy thing. In truth, stopping that elevator was the best thing he’d done in a long while.

Shame about his phone though, that was the only thing that happened on accident. Ruh roh.

#the end was supposed to suggest that Peter has been pining after the reader for a while but it turned out kinda stalkerish #whoops #anywho i hope you guys like #peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver #xmen #peter maximoff x reader #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff smut #evan peters x reader

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01zfan · 2 months

Text

muscle memory | p. wb

waiter!wonbin x waitress!reader | 5.9k words

WONBIN ANON(S) THIS ONE IS FOR Y’ALL!

contains: random idols mentioned for world building, semi-public sex, unprotected sex

you sat next to the pass waiting for the food you ordered for your table to be put out. it was ironically one of the few areas in the restaurant where you could gather your thoughts despite objectively being in the middle of all the chaos. this was the one place in the restaurant where you could actively see all moving parts in the restaurant coming together. next to the pass was also the personal dining room of you and your coworkers, the designated spot where discarded food was up for grabs. so you basked in the organized chaos of your restaurant while eating almost cold parmesan aioli fries.

from your seat on your barstool you could see the cooks in the open faced kitchen work preparing people’s food. you could see the fire coming to life in their woks, and how they didn’t flinch away. you could hear them yelling out terms and phrases to eachother about dishes. you perked up when you heard the items of the dish you were waiting for be called out. you looked down the line quickly, but went back to your slouching position when nothing you needed was there.

you sat there eating the discarded food, half focused on putting something in your empty stomach while half focused on the sounds around you. you waited to hear the signature ding of a new dish being done, but all your ears could pick up was the sound of more tickets being printed and the low-volume music playing in the kitchen. if you got close enough enough and if it was loud enough you could sometimes recognize the words and sing along. you had built up a rapport with them that way, singing along to their songs and passing along compliments from the customers. when they were feeling generous enough, they would even prioritize your staff meal and actually make your on the fly items quickly.

you couldn’t decipher the song in the kitchen. it was drowned out by the million other sounds happening around you. you heard your fellow server yelling into the kitchen about something being made wrong. you looked up to see it was giselle, nearly sitting on the pass to lean as far as she could into the kitchen. any argument she tried to start failed. you knew it would be forgotten after closing, but in the moment it seemed intense. curses were being thrown over the wall on both sides and made it down the line. you wondered if you would have to call for shotaro to mediate the situation, but everyone seemed unbothered as they continued with their job. in less than a minute, giselle was handed her food and she had a smile on her face as she made her way back to the dining room. after seeing the exchange, all you could do was shake you head and go back to your fries.

you had learned a long time ago to stand off to the side when altercations happen. you only recently got in the good graces of most the people you worked with. the last thing you needed was to be put on someone’s shit list for rightfully asking for your food to be ready, or to ask them to calm down.

that was a big problem you developed working here. becoming fine with getting the short end of the stick. if anton sat a seven-top, two five-tops, and three two-tops in your section you only smiled and nodded your head. if someone asked you to come in for them even if you didn’t want to, you said yes. if one of your coworkers asked for your helped even if you were swamped you ran twice as fast to make sure you could save them. you never dared to yell, stomp your feet, or say no. you took it as penance for no other reason than simply existing. you knew everyone was aware of your pushover personality, you just hoped eventually they would give you grace.

normally, you would’ve set your foot down by now, at the very least set up boundaries for your coworkers on what they could ask for. you practiced the speech a million times, each one unique to the unfair things your coworkers would ask for. anton it would be about sitting too many big parties in your section. giselle would be how she rushes too much. winter would be about her laziness when it comes to being on the pass. sungchan’s would be that he helps too much, making you feel inferior at your job. but you keep it all at bay for penance, to make yourself pay for how you unfairly judged your perfect coworker.

you had been hired at the company two months ago. it was hard to navigate at first, having to swallow your pride from not finding a job in your career field. any shame you felt melted after hearing their were multiple “young professionals” at your job. you were even more excited to hear that there was actually someone else with the exact same degree as you, and seemingly went to the same school as you. before you could ask any questions the interview went on, and any questions about other people cleared your mind when you got the job.

when wonbin almost ran into you on your first day, you dropped all of your drinks. it came as a surprise, seeing a face you hadn’t seen in so long. he was different, his black hair that never touched his ears went past his chin now, and he was faster on his feet. he also was the apodeictic leader of the waitstaff, earned through his lack of mistakes, ability to speak his mind, and being a guest favorite. in that moment it became clear who the person that had the same major as you was, and it was too late to quit. you had gotten a taste for the money, and this was the only job on the market that would hire you.

so you stuck through it, swallowing your pride each time wonbin helped you correct a mistake or appease an angry customer. you were grateful for the help, and to have someone who knew what they were doing by your side. something would randomly hit you like a pang in your chest realizing wonbin was better at this than you. all the times you bested him in school seemed to pale in comparison to this, something that actually mattered.

while you were with your trainer sungchan you were distracted, keeping an eye out for wonbin so you could ignore his gaze. what bothered you even more was the fact that wonbin was unbothered. with an exception for the first time he saw you, everything was business as usual with him. he was nothing like the wonbin you used to know, who was petty and didn’t let things go. this wonbin didn’t bring up your past to you or anyone who asked how you two knew eachother. this wonbin only simply said you two went to school together, greatly undermining the time you two together.

working with wonbin took weeks to get used to. they were slow steps forward, finally making it out of the initial awkwardness to exchange pleasantries.

you finally were able to have a conversation with your coworkers while wonbin was present. before you would simply go silent when he came around, avoiding eye contact when he would ask you a question directly.

the conversation was what it normally was during slow mornings, complaints regarding work. you had to spend a ridiculous amount of money on the uniform with no help from upper levels of management. sungchan and giselle shared your complaints, even talking about how later down the line you would have to pay for dry cleaning.

“what would you suggest to fix the situation?” wonbin asked.

it was a question directed at you, unavoidable as wonbin titled his head. you thought for a moment before keeping eye contact with wonbin.

“they could have designated days of the month where they take all of our stuff to dry clean for cheap.” you reasoned.

you felt your heart pound in your chest as you held eye contact with wonbin. you were expecting a rebuttal from him, from anyone before you saw sungchan nod his head.

“there’s discounts for bulk at that place a couple blocks down.” giselle said.

“they could also pay us for buying parts of our uniform.” you added on.

”that would be a dream.” sungchan said.

all of you nodded in agreement before dispersing to get back to your jobs. wonbin hesitated for a second, and your own steps faltered. but he only cleared his throat and went his separate way to tend to a newly sat table.

within two says, there was a list pinned to the corkboard wall for dry cleaning. three times a month, designated days were listed neatly. you already saw a few names, wonbin’s at the very top. you also saw a stack of new waiter aprons and a request sheet to fill out for missing or replacement uniform pieces. you looked around in the break room, feeling angry burn in your chest and eyes. you were hostile the rest of the day, taking it out of your coworkers and customers that were snappy to you first. you didn’t let it out until you caught wonbin in the back of house, sitting in the managers chair as he collected his tips. the anger surged through your fingertips and your feet, causing you to stomp into the room.

“really wonbin?” you called out.

he seemed confused, looking up from his money to your frown.

“what?” wonbin asked.

“i get that this is the first time in your life probably being in a higher up position, but that doesn’t give you the right to claim them as your own.” you quietly yelled.

wonbin sat in the chair, staring at you in shock while your chest finally loosened. the shock and confusion was replaced anger of his own, and you could see wonbin take a deep breath before leaning back in the chair. he looked at you with a calm and even expression now, your exact opposite. he turned in his chair to go back to counting the money.

“i see you haven’t changed one bit.” he said simply.

somehow, that hit you harder than any insult could’ve. it had you averting your gaze from wonbin again, focusing on stacks of paper and the sound of the printer. he said nothing else to you, just letting you bask in the shame of your anger.

when you turned tail to leave you were face to face with a manager, thanking you for your smart idea about the dry cleaning.

“hands please!” winter yelled down the pass.

you snapped up from the barstool, swallowing the week old memory and the stale food so fast it felt like a lump in your throat. you wiped your face with the back of your hand before using a wet napkin to clean your fingers.

you made a straight line for winter working on expo while pinching your server apron between your fingers to dry them. winter’s piercing voice was like a bat signal for the servers, when she spoke suddenly everyone was there. sohee pushed open the two-way door from the kitchen to come to her, with sungchan trailing close behind. eunseok and seunghan were lucky they didn’t have to worry about friday nights, but they had their own personal hell on sunday mornings.

winter handed off everyone’s dishes one by one. you saw more and more people rush off as they had the orders they needed. you waited patiently for winter to hand you the plates.

by the time almost everyone else was gone, you were left with your ungarnished plates.

“i’m swamped, and desserts are coming out soon. can you finish this off for me?” winter asked.

winter posed it as a question and you knew you could say no, but it felt like an order. she barely finished her sentence before she was moving back down the pass, tearing the tickets off to impale them on the metal spindle next to your fries. the pass was empty, and winter relaxed on the barstool to eat your food.

your response to winter sat at the tip of your tongue. your stomach growled, and you started to imagine your tables waiting for their food. were they hungry like you were while you watched winter scarf down the rest of your fries? you could’ve told winter no, to tell her to do your job like you had to do yours. but when you saw wonbin coming to the pass from the dining room you bit your tongue before turning to your plates to garnish.

wonbin saw you finishing the plating. he had empty plates in his hand and was making a path for the dishwasher, but you garnishing your dishes stopped him dead in his tracks. he turned to look at and winter quickly turned to look at him, getting up from her seat to try and look busy working. he saw right through it, tilting his head as she looked at the blank computer screen.

“really winter?” wonbin said.

she quickly shrugged and her eyes got wide to defend herself.

“she doesn’t mind.” she said defensively.

wonbin got a little closer, trying not to make his voice heard.

“she has three large parties all sat within five minutes of eachother. you should do your job so she can do hers.” he said.

winter’s eyes softened sympathetically when wonbin told her about the amount of people. she nodded her head and wonbin headed off to the back of house. he passed by you while you finished your final dish, not sparing you a second glance.

you strategically placed the dishes on the bigger black plate, hoisting it off the pass to rest it on your shoulder. you stole a glance at wonbin for a second, and you could see his eyes dart to the amount of food balancing on your shoulder. the food to feed your seven-top weighed down on you, but you had to start getting the food out now to give yourself grace for the five-top. you could feel winter’s eyes on you as you slowly found the right position for the plate. you turned and started heading for the dining room when you saw sungchan heading straight towards you.

before you could head to the dining room with your food, winter called out to you.

“i have to get this food out to my table.” you said as politely as possible.

“i’ll garnish for the rest of the night. sorry about that.” winter apologized.

the food started to hurt your shoulder, but the acknowledgement and apology from winter made the food feel a little lighter. you nodded your head thankfully before turning back to the dining room.

the rest of the dinner rush went as expected. things went wrong, you had to be bailed out, you had to bail others out. you got tipped well sometimes but got tipped the worst for the bigger parties. you wore yourself ragged jumping up and down for the customers and your coworkers. you ended up staying behind to do opening duties, something that should’ve been reserved for the openers. you were the last of the waitstaff to leave, saying a goodbye to your manager as he locked the door behind you.

when you finally left through the back door into the parking lot, your shift was nearly eleven hours. a quarter after one, calculating your route home made your slippers drag across the paved parking lot as you made your way to your car. you could feel some gravel find its way between the slipper and your foot. the small sharp rock poked through your sock and was stabbed against your foot, but you didn’t care. it paled in comparison to the pain of being on your feet all day. maybe the acupuncture could relieve some of the stress that weighed down on your shoulders.

the sound of your car waking up to you pressing the unlock button distracted you from wonbin on the other side of the parking lot. it wasn’t until he rolled down his manual windows and called out your name that you saw he was there. you have to blink a few times to realize who it was. exhaustion made your eyes droop and a little blurry. when your vision focussed you saw he was beckoning you to come to him. you looked at your car, so ready for you to get inside and drive home. but the guilt your situation carried your tired legs to wonbin’s car. he motioned you to the passenger side. you pulled on the lock handle once, and after wonbin let out an evil giggle he unlocked the door.

you sat quietly in the passenger seat, listening to the quiet music in wonbin’s car. you were only illuminated by the lamppost in the parking lot and the small light in the front seat. you stared straight ahead, awkwardly sitting upright waiting for wonbin to say what he needed to say. his thumbs tapped on his steering wheel, trying to get out what he needed to say.

“you’re overworked.” he said.

you scoffed and shook your hair lightly. you pressed a finger to your temple and turned to look outside.

“everyone is overworked.” you say.

“you are taking on a bigger workload for no reason.” you kept your head turned outside, desperately trying to ignore the caring tone in wonbin’s voice. “just because someone tells you to do something, doesn’t mean you have to.” he says.

“i do it because i want to.” you say quietly.

now it’s wonbin’s turn to scoff at you. you turn your head and narrow your eyebrows.

“what?” you say defensively.

“you want to garnish your own dishes when you have two five-tops and a seven-top waiting on their food?” wonbin asked you a question, but didn’t wait for your answer before shaking his head “give me a break.” he said.

you clench your hands at your sides, trying desperately to remain calm. but wonbin finds ways to push your buttons, found ways to make you so mad. the fake worry, the way he watched your every move without you knowing, the way he was right.

“it’s none of your business what i do.” you said.

“are you just going to keep letting everyone boss you around? do you plan on ever standing up for yourself?” he said.

wonbin had let of of the steering wheel, using his hands to argue with you like he always used to do. you cross your arms into your chest and tilt your head condescendingly.

“you don’t know anything.” you sneer.

“i know you’re making yourself suffer for no reason.” wonbin takes off his beanie, running a stressed hand through his hair. you keep your eye on his hand after sparing a glance to how his hair falls perfectly on his face. “is it because you thought i stole your ideas? so you just don’t advocate for yourself anymore?” he asked.

the incident hadn’t been brought up by either of you since it transpired. you half hoped he would’ve forgotten, but you knew wonbin always remembered. you had to pretend like you didn’t care when you shook your head, turning to look out the window.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lied.

“oh okay.” wonbin laughed. “just because you think we still have childish beef from college doesn’t mean you get to act the way you do.”

“i’m just not used to you being better than me at things.” you say.

it’s a challenge, the way you look at wonbin from your relaxed position on the door. you let your eyes go over his face a million times, resting on his lips after you lick yours. you almost forgot about the rush you got with pushing wonbin’s buttons. the feeling was freeing after a long day of running around for other people all day without saying a single smart remark.

wonbin thinks about the type of person he is now. he thinks about how you two have been in this situation before, with you baiting him. you looked at him the same way you did now. back then he perceived the look in your eye as combative. but now, realization dawned on him. how he had never noticed before was beyond him. his eyes got wide as you leaned in with a smirk on your face. wonbin is timid, refusing to let his mind do something he might regret.

you the one that closes the space between you and wonbin by coming over the center console. you linger there for a second, waiting for his hand to come to your neck before you pull away.

”i’m not sorry by the way,” you brush hair out of wonbin’s face. “you should’ve told you were going to do that before you did it.” you say.

wonbin nods his head, completely giving up any argument he could’ve had with you. your smile is bright—you’ve bested him at another thing.

“i’ll do whatever you want.” he said.

you smiled before going back to wonbin’s lips. his hand on the back of your neck kept you in place, and his tilting head forced you to let him take the lead. you fought for it back through an iron grip on his shirt, pulling him forward.

wonbin settled for letting you stick your tongue in his mouth to let his hand wander your body. he rested over your chest, lightly squeezing your breasts before moving down to your hips. he pulled you forward slightly, a hand underneath your ass lifting for from your seat. you pull away and sigh. wonbin looks at your expectantly, and you let him worry for just a moment before clearing the center console with your legs and straddling him.

“you’re still bossy.” you said matter-of-factly.

“you know, i’m technically not your boss.” wonbin said.

he waited to say it until after his lips were already glossy with your spit and you were straddling his lap. even if whatever you were going to end up doing to wonbin wasn’t allowed, you were too far in now to back down. nothing he said would’ve stopped you from working the buttons on his shirt, or his hands that cupped your chest.

“we can’t get in trouble for whatever we do.” wonbin continued.

he looked up from your chest to look at you. he let your hand go to the buttons on his shirt before he went to yours. it was deliberate and slow, each button made the tension in the car go up. your shirts weren’t even undone all the way before your lips clashed together again.

the kisses were messy like they always were. both of your tongues were mingling, the wet muscles causing a mess on the corner of your lips. the sound of spit being swapped filled the car, and wt kisses cooled the heating skin of your faces. your hands gripped wonbin’s shoulders, and his hand went to your pants. the button was stubborn and wonbin got no help from his shaky hands. it took entirely too long to get your pants open enough for wonbin to plunge his hand underneath the waistband of your panties.

instantly, wonbin almost cursed at your desperation. you were so wet the fabric of your underwear stuck to your folds. he wasted no time slowly sliding a finger into your heat, his eyes focused on your face when he made it to the knuckle. he put his second finger in a little faster, bending them when you brought his lips back in for a kiss.

by the time wonbin put his third finger in your kisses devolved to sucking on his bottom lip. the way you were rutting your hips against his hand and gripping his bicep to keep his hand in place. wonbin watched you use him, unbothered by your desperation. seeing you get wound up so easily and hearing a quiet song about being all alone and needing someone made his dick twitch in his pants.

“been awhile?” wonbin asked.

wonbin’s words were laced with amazement, half talking about himself. the lewd wet sounds and whimpers from you both were already filling up the small space of his car. he was trying to make you feel better while you were still defensive. something in your mind still convincing you everything wonbin said was meant to be sarcastic, even if his pupils were blown wide looking at you.

“shut up.” you whine.

your whiny voice made your words bite less, and the way your hole fluttered around his fingers made wonbin want to keep going. he brought a hand behind your back to pull you further onto his lap. you pressed your chest against wonbin’s, still helplessly rocking your hips into his hand while whimpering into the crook of his neck. he cooed at you and gripped your side to keep you in place. it was the same bruising grip he would have on you in the relationship, one that he would always look at in pride the next morning.

his fingers pushed inside of you at a skilled pace, wonbin would have to pat himself on the back for keeping such a steady groove while he was getting needier by the second. too many times in your relationship he would get lost and chase his own pleasure, going to fast for your liking. but wonbin was matured now, he changed. he could finger you at a pace that made you want more instead of giving you too much, and he could hit the spots you used to like despite the awkward angling in his car. he bent his fingers, smirking to himself when he could feel your body tense.

“fuck.” you moaned into his neck.

you reached out a tongue to lick the hot skin of wonbins neck. he preened closer to your mouth, the only hint he would drop that he wanted you to mark him like old times.

wonbin figured you got the hint, because a desperate hand pushed down his work uniform to uncover previously hidden parts of his neck and chest. your eyes scanned for a second, trying to figure out how high your marks could go while still being hidden. you went for a place on his collarbone and your lips found the perfect spot as if from muscle memory.

“no one will see.” wonbin said.

his hands went to your ass, groping you over the fabric of your pants. he wedged one hand into your pants, reaching all the way down until he could get a handful of you.

you continued sucking on his skin as your hands went down to the tent in wonbin’s pants. you moved so hasty that you didn’t bother with the button. all you did was unzip his pants before reaching into the fly of his underwear to grab his dick. wonbin hiss as he bucked his hips into your hand. his tip was angry and red, glossy from the precum that seemed never ending. his dick sat upright and fit perfectly into your fist.

you wasted no time running your hand up and down wonbin’s length, the sound echoing off the walls in his car. wonbin started sucking on the exposed skin of your chest and laving any area his tongue could reach. you let your body lean back, a spare hand moving your shirt to expose more skin to wonbin. his hands started at your hips and worked their way up, grabbing anything he could. when wonbin got to the nape of your neck he pulled you in for a kiss. desperation from only getting chaste kisses turned to you pumping wonbin’s length faster. he continued to kiss you softly, hissing when the teeth of his zipper rubbed against his sensitive skin.

“does it hurt?” you asked breathlessly.

wonbin nods, reaching for the button of his pants. your shaking hands work together to unbutton the top, and you lift yourself up so wonbin can slide his pants halfway down his thighs.

you two look so pitiful, clothes only half off with forming bruises on your skin. the two of you were breathless only from making out and close to climaxing only from feeling eachother up. you almost forgot you were in the empty parking lot of your job, acting like a reckless horny teenager. if you had half a mind you would’ve gotten dressed and driven home to get ready for your shift tomorrow. but wonbin’s swollen lips called to you, and his dick twitched in your hand without you doing anything. you felt like you were wearing too many clothes and wonbin’s front seat gave you no space.

“should we go to the backseat?” wonbin asked.

you crawled over the center console a little to quickly. you laid down in the backseat, lifting your hips to take off your slacks and panties while wonbin put the driver seat back up. you kicked off your shoes and socks, putting them in the space behind your seat. your button up and bra followed, leaving you completely naked in wonbin’s backseat.

the situation barely had time to settle before wonbin was naked and following you to the back.

“how do you want it?” wonbin asked.

“i don’t know what position is best for car sex.” you said.

you forgot to lace your voice with sarcasm, or something sharp to show wonbin you were still mad. the words only came out whiny, putting a smile on wonbin’s face.

“just tell me what you want,” he runs a finger over the mark on your chest. “it’ll be a nice change of pace for you.” he smiles.

“you’re an asshole.” you said.

you roll your eyes before turning around. wonbin moves back, trying to give you the amount of space you need to get into your position. wonbin knew that you would put your ass up and spread your legs far enough where wonbin could slot between them. he helped you, moving your foot to plant on the floor in front of his so you could find more stability.

”spit” wonbin ordered.

his hand was underneath your mouth, and you gathered the saliva in your mouth to fall into his palm. wonbin’s hand retreated, and you could hear the sound of him spitting and his hand running up and down his dick.

“i haven’t done this in a long time.” wonbin tells you.

wonbin’s wet hand presses on your ass to bring you down slightly. when you hear him moving forward behind you and his tip prods at your entrance, you feel yourself getting lightheaded. the feeling almost makes you forget that you have to atleast try to be a little responsible.

“me neither. but you have to pull out.” you say.

“okay baby.” wonbin says behind you.

“i’m not your baby,” you almost recant your statement when wonbin pushes inside of you. “oh my god.” you moan.

“holy shit.” wonbin curses.

he’s still inside of you when he bottoms out. your walls waste no time clamping around him, almost like they’re trying to keep him inside of you. it’s blinding, and your body tries to adjust to the feeling of wonbin being inside of you again. you barely get used to the stretch before wonbin pulls out and pushes in again.

“so perfect. fits so perfect.” wonbin says.

you can only nod and whimper in agreement when he pushes in again. wonbin’s other hand presses to the side of your ass, spreading both cheeks. something so simple has you feeling something completely different. your whimpers turn you both into moaning messes as wonbin starts thrusting into your spread cunt. your skin is clammy, and wonbin’s hips start pressing against your ass faster and faster. you had to place a hand on the door in front of you for stability. when you tried pushing your hips back to meet wonbin’s he moaned behind you.

“i got you.” he said absentmindedly.

you reacted by reaching your other hand back, reaching for any part of him. wonbin gave you his hand, and then leaned forward to press his sweaty chest to your back.

“wonbin.” you cried.

“i know. i know.” he cooed.

wonbin wrapped his hand around your body, bringing his fingers down to your clit. you could feel his breath hot on the shell of your ear, and you could hear the sounds the sounds he stopped trying to contain. you lifted your back up slightly to be completely pressed against wonbin, so closed you could feel his heart thudding against your back. he sucked on your shoulder blades and let go of your hand wedged between your two bodies to place it over the hand on the door.

“are you close?” wonbin whispered into your ear.

“yes. so close.” you said.

wonbin continued his revolutions on your clit, and started rutting his hips into yours. he was close too, and it took everything in him to not lose himself then and there.

“kiss me baby.” wonbin nearly begged.

you didn’t have to be asked twice to turn your head as far as it would go. wonbin caught your lips hurriedly, placing kisses to your jaw and cheek before kissing your lips successfully. he was overstimulating you both, becoming distracted between all the ways you touched. the fogged windows of his car only made everything worse, heat just circling the area between you two.

you completely froze and no longer kissed wonbin back when you came. it was too hard to focus, each time your walls clamped around wonbin’s dick made you whine out helplessly. you wanted to cry when wonbin pulled away from your body to pull out. your sweat cooling on your ass and back mixed with wonbin’s hot cum. he moaned and pumped his length. he finally letting himself quickly rub at your clit to match the pace of his hand on himself. he kept going, long after the ropes stopped, trying to prolong the feeling of you both experiencing your highs together.

wonbin didn’t pull his hands away until your legs shook and a weak hand pushed his away. your ass went lower and lower and you said nothing while you caught your breath.

wonbin went to the center console of his car, opening it up to pull out napkins from his various takeout orders. he was delicate wiping himself from your back despite wishing he could keep it there forever. you murmured a tired thank you, still in your resting position. wonbin let himself slump into the seat after he cleaned you up, still trying to catch his breath as he pulled up his underwear. he looked at his foggy windows, then to you. wonbin let himself run his hands down the line of your back before affectionately tapping your butt.

“are you alright?” wonbin asked.

your moved from your spot, back on the seat to get more comfortable. wonbin could see sleep pull at your eyelids as you slowly nodded.

“tired.” you said simply.

wonbin nodded knowingly, moving your body so your head rested on his lap. it wasn’t long before your eyes closed all the way, muttering something about giving you ten minutes.

“go ahead.” wonbin ran his hands over creases of your face soothingly. “you got time.” he said

#requestz #01zfan: wonbin #wonbin smut #riize smut

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worksby-d · 2 years

Text

Forget Everything

Pairing: Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Summary: Ari fucks the stress out of you. As he should.

Warnings: Soft dom!Ari vibes, blowjob/face fucking, lots of praise, unprotected sex, did I mention soft!Ari?, kind of rough, 18+/minors dni

Word count: ~2,100

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚◦˚.˚◦˚ ୧ .˚

He thought pulling your laptop away from you, off of the makeshift desk you made out of pillows on the bed, and dimming the lamp in the room would be enough to force you to forget about work for the night and submit to sleep.

He usually lets it go, not wanting to interrupt you, but he could tell you were getting more and more worked up as you huffed and rubbed your eyes every so often before continuing to furiously type away.

“Ari…” You threw your arms up, watching him close your computer and put it out of reach on the other side of the room. “Come on.”

“No, you come on,” he countered, laughing a bit as he got back into bed next to you. Giving in slightly, you laid on your side to face him, and he took your hand in his. “It’s late. What's got you so worked up?”

He didn't mean to set off the rant that came along with his question. He had no idea what had been going on, but swore you were nearly in tears as you explained how swamped you felt picking up everyone else’s slack.

“It's just a lot,” you finally breathed out slowly, letting go of his hand as you rolled onto your back so you could look away from him.

“Honey, I didn't know…” It's all he could offer at first.

You just shrugged. How would he know? You tried your best to keep it to yourself because you knew he'd worry.

When it clicked for him how he could help, you missed the smirk that tugged at his lips.

“It sounds like you need someone to do the work for you for a change.” The teasing tone of his voice went right over your head, too stressed to catch on. “...Do all the thinking so you don't have to.”

“If only,” you scoffed quietly, keeping your focus on the ceiling above you.

Taking that as a challenge, he pushed himself up so he could roll on top of you, effectively pinning you against the mattress beneath him.

A breath got caught in your throat as you peered up at him, caught off guard.

“Let me do it,” he offered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I'll make you forget everything.”

The next kiss was deeper, as if he could sense your doubt, needing to convince you. And it left you breathless, reducing your voice to a whisper. “Have at it.”

He took his time, only pulling his lips away from yours to tease you when you moaned softly into his mouth. Brushing his nose against your cheek, he got you to lean your head back, allowing him to press kisses along your jaw and across your neck.

He knows your body well enough to know you weren't completely relaxing for him yet though.

“I can still feel you thinking,” he teased, playfully nipping your ear as he whispered to you.

“I'm sorry."

Your words came out sounding like a genuine apology, a seriousness to your voice that had his heart breaking.

“No, hey.” He shook his head, bringing a hand to your cheek to get you to look at him. “You're doing perfect. It's okay. Let me do all the work, remember? Your job right now is to let me make you feel good. Let me help you.”

Letting out a breath, you nodded and closed your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he smiled, kissing you one more time. “Want the only thing on your mind to be begging for my cock, if I hadn't made that clear yet.” The whimper that escaped you made him laugh. “Head so empty besides that, that I have to tell you exactly what to do.”

Pushing off of you, he pulled you up with him, guiding you to the edge of the bed so he could sit up and point you toward the floor. “Get on your knees.”

Wasting no time, you settled there between his legs.

“Look at me,” he said, grasping your chin gently to tilt your head back. He could tell it was starting to work as your soft gaze looked up at him. Your hands moved slowly toward the waistband of his sweatpants as he talked to you, waiting for his word. “Go ahead.”

Biting your lip, you pulled his sweats down far enough to expose his dick, hard for you already as you took him in your hand.

The sight of him, especially how big he is compared to your hand, never fails to cue the involuntary clench of your thighs. And he never misses the way you squirm in front of him.

“Don't be shy,” he urged, snapping you out of your daze as you watched your hand stroke him. “Use that pretty mouth too, baby.”

He didn't have to ask you twice. Leaning closer to him, you darted your tongue out to run a slow, teasing lick along the length of his cock. You held in a giggle when you heard the slow breath he let out above you.

He let a hand rest on the back of your head as you took the tip in your mouth. “There you go.”

Resisting the urge to move his hips and take over, he allowed you to take your time. You relaxed the best you could, steadily taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, letting your hand do the rest of the work.

Feeling you softly gag around himself made him let out a groan of his own. He couldn't help moving his hand closer to your neck, guiding you to lift up before sinking your mouth back onto him, helping you move in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck, that's it,” he sighed. “Moan for me.”

The vibrations from the back of your throat as you obeyed him were too much. He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away from him and stood up in front of you.

The sudden movement made you gag again and he let you pull away for just a moment to catch a breath. He placed your hands on his thighs and you braced yourself.

“You stay right there now. You don't have to do anything else,” he promised, holding your face in his hands. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded eagerly, parting your lips for him.

“So fucking good at doing what I say,” he moaned, thrusting himself back into your mouth, making you cough around him.

He was done taking it slow – He held you in place as he finally took over, praising how well you took him.

Your fingers dug into the muscle on his thighs as you held onto him, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to get quick breaths in when he momentarily gave you the chance.

“You're so good for me,” he panted, stilling his hips to keep your mouth full as he steadied his own breath. “Such a perfect mouth. That's all you are right now. No thoughts, just letting me use you.”

None of his words were even registering for you as your eyes rolled back, the lack of air causing an overwhelming silence in your ears.

Ari letting his cock fall from your mouth brought you back to the moment – taking a deep inhale once you were finally able to.

“There you are,” he chuckled watching the loopy smile appear on your face. He wiped away some spit from your chin as you looked up at him with slow blinks. “That's it. Good job, pretty girl.”

As he helped you up off the floor, you fell back onto the bed, trying to bring him down with you. “Please–”

“Ah-ha,” he mused. He stayed standing so he could rid himself of his pants and quickly help you out of yours. “Begging already? So good at listening, baby girl. All from just my cock in your mouth.”

You sat up flustered and reached for him again. “Please…”

He gave in, but not without taunting you. “Please what?”

“Ari,” you groaned, hiding your face against his shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, carefully helping you move so you could rest your head on some pillows. “You can't come up with an answer when you're not thinking. You're too pretty to think, aren't you? You’re doing exactly what I asked. You're so fucking perfect.”

“Need you,” you whined, impatiently reaching your hand between your bodies to find his cock again.

“Don't worry, I told you I'm gonna take care of you. So that's what I'm gonna do.”

He softly pulled your hand away from him and placed it at your side before kneeling back to take in the sight of you laid out and desperate for him.

Taking a hold of your thighs, he spread your legs and pushed them back to give him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.

He teased along your slit with the tip of his cock, slapping it against your clit. It sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, prompting you to whimper out another string of pleases.

They were cut off by your own gasp though when he finally began thrusting into you.

“You're relaxed now, huh,” he teased, easily pushing into you, but still taking it slow. “That's my girl.”

He was filling you completely in no time, leaning back over you to press a kiss to your cheek, and then to your lips, as you got used to the feeling of him.

“Please move,” you choked out, digging your nails into his sides as you grew more desperate.

He slowly pulled out of you, almost all the way, before his hips snapped roughly back against yours, eliciting a yelp from you.

You held onto him while he showed no mercy – immediately falling into a fast and hard rhythm of forceful thrusts. It was enough to cause the bed to shake, your whole body being pushed against the pillows above your heads

A string of his name and indistinguishable whines were all you could muster. He wanted more though.

“Uh, uh,” he breathed out, slowing down just enough to get your attention. “I wanna hear you scream for me.”

You nodded even though you truthfully didn't process what he was even saying, you just needed him to keep going.

“Listen to me.” He rested his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look into his lust-blown eyes. “Can feel you're close, honey. You don't have to ask. Just let it happen, let go for me.”

Deep down, you were waiting for his OK – Hearing him give it, you felt yourself give into the pleasure that was building up. You came with a scream of his name, scratching at his back as your legs shook against him.

He fucked you through your high, ultimately chasing his own. With a deep, final stroke, he came with you. His head fell to your shoulder, his grunts sending shivers down your spine as his release filled you up.

His body stilled against yours, and even in your daze, the weight of him on top of you was comforting.

He could feel your chest rising and falling against his, your heart still racing.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, catching his own breath. “Did so good. Stay right here with me. You don't have to think yet, let me hold you.”

He was relieved when he felt you nod softly.

“You deserve the rest. You work so hard,” he murmured against your neck, pressing a few lazy kisses against your skin. “You're so perfect. You need to relax once in a while.”

All you could do is hold onto him, listening to his words, actually believing them. You gripped him tighter, only thinking about him and feeling him, not wanting him to move yet.

“I'm not going anywhere.” It's like he could read your mind. “Will always be here to take care of you. I've got you.”

Feeling you physically relax beneath him, he took the moment to gently pull out of you and lay beside you, drawing you against his warm body.

A few moments of silence passed before you spoke up again.

“You’re sweaty,” you mumbled against his chest.

“I think that's you,” he teased, and you hid your face as he hugged you tighter. “We'll clean up in a minute, don't worry. You're not allowed to worry again yet.”

˚. ୭ ˚◦˚.˚◦˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersdrysdalebarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #chris evans x you

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caapsiizzereads · 10 months

Note

Would you do a Jamie Tartt imagine where he and his girlfriend's anniversary is during an away game so he's super clingy and pouty he's missing it before/after the game, thanks in advance!

🤲

Jamie has been ecstatic about playing for the England national team. He doesn’t care about the extra travel or extra training – it’s all worth it. That is, until the date of an away match falls on your one-year anniversary. Suddenly, he isn’t excited for the match at all. He asks if you can come with him, but you’re swamped with work, so that isn’t an option.

Jamie can be one dramatic bitch sometimes, and it’s exactly one of those times. You insist that it’s fine and you can celebrate on the next day, but it’s not good enough for him.

“We’ll have other anniversaries,” you’re trying to comfort him. It’s only after you say it that you realize that it’s a bit presumptuous.

Jamie doesn’t seem to notice. “But this is our first one!”

“Jamie, it’s fine, really. We’ll just celebrate on the next day, it’s not a big deal.”

He whines.

“Okay, this is it. You don’t get to complain. You will be in Naples, playing for the fucking national team, while I’m stuck here.”

“But it’s no fun if you’re not there!” he pouts.

“It is if you win the match. Have some ice cream for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and he lays his head on your chest miserably.

Jamie stays glued to your side for the whole day before he has to leave, he kisses you, like, a hundred times, and then hugs you for a full three minutes before stepping out the door.

You facetime when he’s there. He calls you the first thing in the morning, and you just hang out on a call while getting ready for your days, you say that you’ll be cheering for him and wish him good luck on his match. Then he texts you right after the match, and you congratulate him on the win.

The team is getting on the bus to go to the airport, and Jamie just can’t wait to get back to you. He googles all the food places that will still be open when he lands, so that you’ll be able to at least have a simple dinner at home. Fortunately, being a famous footballer comes with some privileges, one of which is that certain restaurants are willing to provide their services for him even after their regular closing time.

Jamie texts you when he lands, and you instantly reply, which means that you aren’t asleep yet, so he happily stops by a restaurant to pick up the food on his way home.

When Jamie parks by your house, he notices that the lights are off. It’s been only an hour since you texted him, surely you couldn’t fall asleep, right? He quietly enters the house and takes off his shoes. Now, standing in the hallway, he can see the dim light coming from the kitchen.

He walks into the room to find it illuminated by a dozen candles and you sitting on the kitchen island, smiling charmingly at him.

“Hi,” you greet him playfully.

“Hi,” he says softly, feeling the warmth in his cheeks. No matter how much time goes by, you always have this effect on him. “I got dinner,” he lifts his hand with the takeout bags in it. “And ice cream. Had to get it here, though, didn’t think it could survive the flight.”

“I got wine,” you nod in the direction of a wine bottle and two empty glasses standing on the counter.

Jamie puts the bags near them and walks up to you, standing in the space between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. “Happy anniversary.”

Jamie melts into your embrace, smiling blissfully at you. “Happy anniversary.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fic

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mulansaucey · 1 year

Text

Bat Wives Wine Night - 2

AZRIEL X READER (SMUT)

Thank you for all the feedback, hearing how much you guys liked it means so much to me. This part is very steamy so please enjoy. I kept this as reader’s POV because I’m so swamped with work right now I dont have time to switch POVs. My request is open so if you want me to write something for you, I’d be more than happy. I’m still figuring how I’m gonna start writing more so bear with me. I hope you guys like it!

WARNINGS: Alch use, P in V, oral sex, semi public sex, fingering, BDSM vibes/dynamic, sex under the influence but consensual, established relationship and boundaries.

Shit. We were finally caught. It looked kind of absurd, six people standing in a semi circle completely still with raunchy, erotic music booming hard in the background. I feel a talon poking at my shields and I at first thought it was Rhys ready to tell me off and get my ass out of here but instead it was darling Feyre.

“Bathroom.”

Didn’t have to tell me twice. I go to move but the shadow firmly wraps around each of our legs, cementing us to the floor. I narrowed my eyes at Azriel and the shadows, soothing shadows wrap around my arms like an apology.

“I gotta piss!” I scream out, not only did I actually have to piss but I needed an excuse to go somewhere quiet and try to sober up to explain to my mate why I was getting wasted without telling him where I was. Cass grins and starts cackling, the first bat boy to break. He goes over to Nesta immediately finding his place within her arms, lips already on her neck. She struggles to contain a moan, by now Az relents his shadows.

He walks towards me with an amused expression, “That was quite a show up there.” He said, gesturing to the stunt I pulled on the table. He wrapped his arms around me while I hid in his shoulder. I’m blushing furiously by now.

“I can explain, just let me sober up a bit in the bathroom first.” I go to grab Nesta, seeing her making out with Cass, peeling them off each other. I make my way to Feyre giggling in Rhys neck. Once I gather both girls we stumble into the surprisingly empty bathroom and just sit. Not the cleanest surface but honestly we just need a minute to process. I take the time to actually pee, moving back to the floor once I get done washing my hands (A/N PLEASE WASH YOUR HANDS).

“I’m a little relieved but a little sad we got caught.” Feyre says, resting the back of her head against a stall, Nesta leaning hers on the sink to my right. I give a nod but smile looking at them both. The shit we got up to has been great and I think we accomplished what we needed these past years. Drunk me is nostalgic so I open my mouth to reminisce on a night out a few months back.

“Remember one night we snuck out to Day Court to party with Helion?” We can’t help but laugh. Nesta adds, “Of course I do, he made us lift him up during a keg stand. His thighs were huge, felt like I was holding a beef cake.” I cackle at the memory of helping a High Lord do something so absurd.

“My favorite is when Y/N tried to dance battle a sentry, never knew you could do the splits.” Feyre gasping at the end of her sentence, not being able to hold in her laughter.

Nesta’s eyes brightened and she stood up. She pulled Feyre and I to our feet and said, “The fun has just begun now, let’s get out of here. Leave the boys to ponder.” I started giggling, the alcohol making me ten times more likely to agree to anything.

“Where would we go?” I ask, everything is closed and we can’t just bar hop the boys will eventually find us AGAIN.

“LET'S GO SEE AMREN!” Feyre squeals, she winnows us out before we can even agree. We pop up right in front of Amren’s apartment door. We knocked probably more than we should have. Amren’s pale but beautiful face is revealed.

“What do you want?” Straight to the point like she always is. We all smile brightly at her very unamused face.

“The boys caught us drinking so we ditched them to come see you.” I let out while giving my biggest puppy dog eyes that work on Azriel, not so much on Amren. She reluctantly opens up to let us through, not willing to close the door on her High Lady, being sisters with Feyre has its perks. We tumble in, getting comfortable in her living room.

“You can’t stay long, Varian comes over in an hour or two.” Amren says walking back to her room to clean up a bit. I just now notice she’s in her nice silk robe, with probably nothing underneath. The faelights are turned to a dark red, casting the apartment in a sensual vibe. They be fucking.

I then feel Azriel calling for me through the bond. I send back a reassuring push, to let him know I’m fine.

“Where are you?” his words echoing through me. I feel slightly bad so I answer back, “I’m at a friend's house, I’m fine.” I can feel him get annoyed and ask where I am. I just send another push of love and reassurance and ignore his calls. Will I regret it by the morning? Yes. I can already feel the spanks coming my way when he finds me. I’ve broken so many of his “rules”. They call it “funishment” for a reason.

Amren hands us each a glass of water and some bread to sober up.

“So, what the fuck are you guys doing here?” Amren asks, settling onto an armchair. We go into detail about our secret Wine Nights. The only sign of amusement from the short, scary woman was a smirk. “Well, you sure do give them a run for their money, girl.”

We spend the hour sipping on our water and gossiping with Amren, enjoying the chill of the night. “Sorry to burst your bubble, girl but your mate is asking if you’re here and I don’t plan on lying to my High Lord.” We all groan, not wanting to move from our spot.

“Plus Varian will be here any second and I do not care if you are here to see us fucking.” Amren lets out in a breathy laugh. That scrambles us to our feet fast. Not before snagging a bottle of Amren’s nice wine. We all leave to walk the streets until we get to almost the back of Velaris. Walking along the Sidra until it’s just docks and water. I feel a talon on my shields and judging from the looks on my friends faces I can tell Rhys is reaching out to all of us.

“You went to Amren’s? Are you guys serious right now? Tell me where you are, NOW.” Rhys almost shouts into our minds. I can tell Feyre relents and lets him know we’re towards the end of the city. Knowing the boys will be here any minute we admire the water. We’re all leaning on the rail and each other. Taking turns sipping on the red wine.

“I wanna swiiiiimmmmm” Feyre whines, she’s already taking off her shoes and I agree and go to start stripping. Nesta grabs my arm with a warning looking around to make sure nobody saw her sisters butt ass naked.

“We shouldn’t, what if someone sees us!” Nesta tries to whisper but it comes out more like a loud shout. I clamp my hand on her mouth, less gracefully than I liked.

“Shhhh! Come in, we will be fine, the water sounds soooo nice.” I say, going to take off my pants. We all strip down to our underwear, Fey and I wanted to be naked but we stayed in our panties and bra to appease Nesta’s worry. Of course my High Lady jumped in first, a loud splash echoed throughout the empty courtyard. I glance back to Nesta, I wink at her before cannonballing my way into the water. I return to the surface, smiling at Feyre. I wave Nesta into the water, and a third splash echoed. We all enjoy floating on our backs, looking up into the stars littering the sky.

*WHOOSH*

The distinct sound of flapping of wings. I hear three pairs of shoes touch down the wooden pier. I can feel the bond flow with relief that quickly follows by irritation from my mate. Seems like he didn’t appreciate having to track across Velaris to find me, drunk and floating in the back part of the Sidra.

“What the hell are you guys doing? Get out of there now, please!” Rhy’s silky voice reaches our ears. “We’ve been looking for you for hours!” Cass yells out. We finally sat up right in the water, taking a look at our exhausted mates.

“Well you found us!” I shout back. “Come in and join us, look at the stars, just chill for a minute.” I say more quietly which pisses my mate off even more.

“Get your ass out of the water before I drag you out of there.” Azriel’s voice never going above a shout, but his words are filled with tension nonetheless.

“Scared, boys? C’mon Cass, come join me.” Nesta almost purrs to her mate, throwing her soaking bra at his feet. She swims farther away to her right towards a small cluster of rocks. Well, there goes Nesta’s modesty. Looking around to see three clusters of rock, far away enough from us to have privacy but close enough to know what Nesta was thinking. I’m getting fucked in the river tonight.

Cassian looks at his brothers and takes off his shirt, Feyre and I start hooting at him to encourage our mates.

“Tits out, balls out, brothers.” Cass says as he drops his pants splashing in, swimming towards Nes. That man would follow her anywhere.

Azriel looks at me, waiting for me to swim to him. Honestly, I submit to him most of the time. Our dynamic naturally fell into that role. And as much as I love being Az’s good girl, being bad is much more fun. Rhys strips down, jumping and leading a giggling Feyre to a cluster of rocks towards my left. Leaving the middle and the farthest rocks to me, I swim back keeping eye contact with my mate. Every step further away from him, I feel the pulse of the bond pound harder in my chest, daring me to make my next move. I slide the straps of my bra down, his eyes never leaving mine. I take it off, letting my nipples perk up under the water, raising my chest a bit to throw it at him and maybe to tease him.

One thing about Azriel is he doesn't like to share and he doesn't like people seeing what’s his. Although his brothers are very much preoccupied with their own mates, I know he’s boiling with jealousy. He speaks through the bond, “Don’t make me come in there, I won’t play nice.”

I squeeze my thighs under the water and send a rush of arousal through the bond.

“I don't want nice.” I say back, out loud. His wings perk up in challenge before he starts stripping down, his tattoos showing against his beautiful tan skin. I hear him mutter under his breath, “I’m going to regret this.” He slowly sinks in, taking his god damn precious time while my friends are getting some sort of fucked on the the two sides of me. I can’t hear them but can see the tops of their heads from my distance. I hear enough water splashing to know they aren’t innocently playing in the water.

He just about reaches me when I jump back laughing loudly. I wasn’t done with this game yet, Azriel and I love the build up almost more than the actual sex. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he loves when I’ve been bad. He loves having an excuse to spank me red, to deny or give my pleasure. He firmly but gently grabs my wrist holding me to his chest and pushes us behind the rocks, ensuring no one can see us. He releases his shadows cocooning our sounds.

Az leans down his lips touching the shell of my ear, “You’ve been a bad girl, bunny. Not answering me when I called. Running to Amren’s of all places. Just know when I’m done with you here, I won’t be holding back at home.” He kisses my cheek, a sweet gesture as if his words didn’t promise me a world of pain and dizzying pleasure. His hand that practically dwarfs my body, gently feels up my side. When he reaches my throat his grip tightens pulling my chest flush to his, his lips crashing down on mine. His tongue dominates my mouth, my nipples rubbing against his skin in the most delicious way. This kiss wasn't nice, it was all consuming. It was claiming. My hands run through his hair, pulling him closer to me. I let out a moan as he tongues the hollow of my throat, sinking his teeth on my sweet spot behind my ear. He gives my inner thigh a spank, I yelp out in surprise as he chuckles. I’m already soaked, arousal flooding my senses. My craving for him can only be soothed with him deep inside me. My hand finds his godly cock, stroking him gently, “I want you, please.”

“Already begging for it and I’ve barely touched you, bunny.” he grunts out, I twist my hands around the head of his cock as he hisses from the sensation. He grabs my hand, twisting my body around while holding both hands behind my back.

“I’m doing the touching tonight. You had me worried baby, you know I don’t like being denied. Especially from you.” He presses open mouthed kisses along my spine, I can barely breathe by the time his mouth meets the flesh of my ass, he bites down. Hard. Likely leaving an imprint of his teeth, Illyrians are such territorial babies. He rips my underwear off, tearing it nearly in two.

I feel the rock against my cheek, the cold surface cooling my overheated body. Without warning, Az’s tongue sweeps through my arousal. He approves in a grunt, going right back into feast on me. I moan loudly, knowing the shadows are muffling my sounds. I just now notice his shadows are holding my arms together while Az grabs handfuls of my ass. Water drips down my back into his hair, making all of this so erotic. He switches between pulling my clit gently between his lips to full on lapping at it. He pushes his large finger into me making me push back against his face, he pushes me further into the rocks as he stands, still fucking me with his hand. He grabs a fistful of my hair, his lips on my ear. “Enjoy this, bunny because you won’t be cumming for the rest of the night.” His breath hot against my skin, he added two more fingers stretching me wide to take him later. At this point, I’m moaning shamelessly.

“Oh, yes. Fuck yes. Azriel.” I moan out his name, knowing just how riled up my mate gets hearing his name from my lips. He fucks me harder with his fingers, applying the smallest amount of pressure around my throat. His hard chest, flush against my back. It’s weirdly intimate for being in the gods damn river. I can feel the knot building in my stomach, I clench around his fingers and before I can cum he rips his hand away from my sex. I whine in protest.

“You’re soaking, bunny.” He says rubbing his almost painfully hard cock between my ass cheeks. He strokes his cock with the hand he pleasured me with, getting ready to absolutely rearrange my guts. I push my hips back, grinding on any part of him I can. “I don't think you want it enough though, you’re gonna have to beg for it. Say you’re sorry, bunny. Tell me how much you want it.” He purrs into my ear. I look over my shoulder, not caring how pathetic I look right now. Bent over a rock with my hands behind my back, whining for him.

“Please fuck me, Az. I’m sorry, I really am. Just please fuck me, I need you mate.” I knew pulling the mate card would get Azriel inside me quicker than lightning. And I was right, I could feel the head of his perfect cock push inside me. I moan at the feeling of the first stretch, no matter how many years have passed, I’ll never be tired of this feeling. Az lets out a small moan as he fully sheaths himself inside me. He rests his forehead on the top of my back and lets out another moan as I shift to get used to his size. “Fuuck” he whispers in pleasure. He’s never been one to make a lot of noise at all, so hearing any sound of pleasure from him made everything much more rewarding. He rises again, using one hand to hold my hands, the other around my hip. Promising a bruise the next day.

“You ready, bunny?” he asks me, the loving side of Azriel returning for a moment. He kisses my cheek sweetly as I nod, weakly, “Pleeeease…” I moan out. He chuckles as he pulls himself almost all the way out before thrusting hard. I moaned loudly this time. He chooses a harsh pace, barely giving me time to breathe before the next thrust. The water splashes around us, that sound mixed with Azriel’s grunting and hearing just how wet I am every time he thrusts in makes me feel almost embarrassed, almost. If it wasn't for how amazing I felt. I could feel the bond thrumming with lust. I was moaning out Azriel’s name when he slowed down just a bit, enough to slow down my orgasm that so badly wanted to burst.

“You look so good, bunny. You feel fucking amazing, this pretty little cunt was made for me.” He made a point to slowly grind into me, letting me hear the mess he was making at the apex of my thighs. The squelching sound made me blush. “Tell me how good you feel, bunny.” Az requested, then immediately returned to his harsh pace making my words sound jumbled and frantic.

“F-fuuck, I-I feel so good, yo-you make me feel good. Keep fucking me, pl-please.” I moan out, I have enough strength to meet his hips snapping into mine, Az lets out a deep groan. He snakes his hand to my clit, giving it the attention I very much desired. I start yelling out his name at the added stimulation. At this point we let our desire control us, fucking into each other like it was the last time we have the chance to. The tension builds in my stomach and I start clenching down on his cock, Az lets out another deep groan.

“Yeah, bunny. Come all over my cock, fuck me til you’re hoarse.” He grits through his teeth. I scream out his name like a prayer as my orgasm tears through me, he can feel me cumming around him. I can feel his stomach tightening on my back, he ruts into me moaning my name as he cums inside me. Feeling his hot seed against my walls makes me want to cum again so I moan and push against him selfishly wanting more of him. I always want more. His shadows release my arms and Az turns me around in the water, surprisingly still keeping himself inside me. I wrap my arms around his shoulder, breathing in his scent. I place gentle kisses along his neck while he slows his breathing against my shoulder. He looks up at me after a moment and kisses me fully. His smooth lips taking place on mine, the kind of kiss that makes you dizzy and wanting more. I can't tell you how long we stayed in that position, lazily making out and enjoying each other.

“HEY YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE AFTER DARK!” I hear a distant shout, pulling my face off Az’s I scoot closer to him trying to hide my naked body. He slowly pulls out of me chuckling.

“I thought you were feeling brave tonight, bunny.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. I blush, hiding my face in his neck, biting down gently on him for teasing me. He gives me a small spank in return.

“GET OUT OF THERE NOW!” The sentry yells out to us. I hear Rhys speak up, pushing his body enough to where the guard can see his face.

“Hey Felix, uhh look I’ll give you a bonus if you turn around and forget this happened.” The sentry’s eyes widen when he realizes he caught the most important people in his court skinny dipping. I can hear Feyre’s giggle as she peeks her head up. Rhys slowly pushes her down, again proving how possessive our Illyrian babies are.

“Yes, my Lord. Good night.” He’s gone before I can even look up again. We all burst out laughing, the absurdity of this night all hitting us. We should get out of here before we traumatize another sentry. I cling onto Azriel as he waddles us through the water towards our clothes. We’re the first to get dressed, Az shielding my body with his wing. When the others start climbing out and dressing Az wraps me in his arms whispering in my ear, “I hope you had fun, my love. Your punishment starts when we get home.” I bite my lip, staring up at him. I hum in agreement, “I can’t wait.” I wink at him, giving him a soft kiss. He returns the kiss with his own, biting my bottom lip.

“Alright, brother. Wait til you get home, I’m too tired to witness this.” Rhy says, gesturing for us ladies to walk ahead first. Probably scared we’re gonna run off again. Once we get out into the empty street, the boys grab us and haul ass into the sky. I can’t blame them, we sorta made them chase around Velaris for like three hours. I scream as Az does intricate tricks, once we land at the River House I stumble inside, not used to gravity yet. I am completely sober though so that’s a plus.

“Go grab your things, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting in here.” Az says to me passing by to sit on a chair. I rush to grab my bag and meet him back in the sitting room.

I hear Cass grumble, “I’m getting too old for this shit.” Rubbing Nes’s thighs as she sits on his lap. Love bites litter Cass’s neck. Rhys nods along, holding Feyre’s hand, he looks as if he could fall asleep right there on the couch. Us girls look at each other in annoyance. I speak up, my hand running through Az’s hair, “We keep you young and y’all know it.” He just smirks up at me, pulling himself to stand. Azriel has got plans and he’s trying to get me alone as soon as possible.

“Alright, ladies. Next month, same time?” Feyre says, the boys' protests falling on deaf ears.

“Maybe we should discuss next month, darling. Before you give me a heart attack.” Rhy says, kissing her hand. Azriel drags me outside, not bothering for goodbyes. I can feel his impatience through the bond. Insteading of flying, he winnows us home. Leading me through our house and to our room. I go to take off my damp clothes, his helpful hands tugging the material down.

“Lay on the bed, bunny.” Az commands. A part of me didn’t take his threats earlier seriously but he watches me walk to our bed and lay down. His eyes darken. He looks pointedly at my hands, I lift my arms up letting his shadows twine though, holding me down. The shadows doing the same to ankles and thighs spread me apart. I'm embarrassingly wet again.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl. I’m gonna have to teach you my rules again.” he takes his time undressing, letting the wetness gather between my legs. He kisses my ankles, all the way up to the tops of my thighs. I whimpered as he purposely avoids the area I want him most.

I whimper out a please, begging for him.

“You know you’ve been bad, bunny?”

“Yes, sir.” I moan as he liked my inner thigh.

“You won’t go out without letting me know?”

“Yes, sir.” Another lick on the other side.

“You’ll answer back when I call out to you?”

“Yes, sir.” I moan again as he brushes his lips against my clit, barely touching me.

I look down at him, seeing his eyes light up with hunger. He licks his lips, looking at me.

“Good, then let's begin.”

-------

TAGLIST: @azriels-mate123 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @feyretopia @percyjacksonspeen @ bubbles-for-all-of-us @ despoinasstuff @ brekkershadowsinger @ capbuckyfalcon @ tsibba01 @ elizarikaallen @ azzydaddy @ weirdo-fun @ lena-davina @ ktmylady @ frawst-disasta @ onlyhereforthelolsss

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel imagines #cassian x nesta #feyre x rhysand #acotar imagine #acotar smut

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a060403 · 6 months

Text

𝐀 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, office sex, explicit language, long story ahead, not proofread, grammatical errors, oneshot

✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

The office was bustling with activity as usual, but today, there seemed to be an extra layer of tension in the air. Miguel had been working on a particularly difficult project for weeks now, and it looked like things were finally coming to a head. His client had set an unrealistic deadline, and Miguel was starting to feel the pressure.

He sat hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as he typed furiously. The coffee cup beside him was empty, forgotten. His stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He tried to push the hunger pangs aside and focus on the task at hand. As the hours ticked by, Miguel felt his stress levels rising. His mind was racing, trying to find a solution to the problem that seemed insurmountable.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the cold air conditioning in the room. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it only made the world around him blurrier. Finally, when it felt like time had stopped moving altogether, Miguel's phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at the screen, half-expecting it to be another email from his client, but instead, it was a text from you.

“Hey, just checking in on you,” you wrote. “It's been a while since I've heard from you. Are you okay?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up straight. His shoulders were tight with tension, and he realized how much stress he had been holding onto. He typed out a quick reply.

“I'm fine, just swamped with work. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight.” As he hit send, he felt a tiny bit of the weight lift off his chest. Maybe you could help him unwind after all this was over. Or maybe they could take a break together tomorrow—something to look forward to amidst all the chaos. For now, though, Miguel turned back to his computer screen and redoubled his efforts to meet that impossible deadline.

A knock brought him out of focus and he dragged his eyes away from his laptop screen and towards the office door. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and looked up at the clock. 7 PM. “Hey baby,” you gleamed and entered his office.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher than he expected. He stood up and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back. “I didn't realize it was so late.”

You closed the door behind you and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your head on his chest, and Miguel felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “How's your day so far?” you asked softly. Miguel looked down at you, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting you all day. “Tiring, I might have to stay late again for tonight,” he sighed. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I was thinking of giving you a hand… seems like you need it.” You said, kissing his jawline. His body tensed in contact. A shaky breath escaped his mouth when he felt your lips travel down his neck. “Mmm,” He murmured softly, closing his eyes as you continued to trail gentle kisses along his jawline and up toward his earlobe.

“You know, I can't tell if you're trying to distract me or help me focus right now,” he chuckled, leaning back against the desk with a sigh. You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Maybe both?” Miguel shook his head, smiling. “I don't know how you do it,” he said, running a finger through your hair. “But I appreciate it.” He pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together in an intimate embrace. “Now let's go get some food so we can actually talk about something other than work for once.”

He grabbed your hand and led you towards the door. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I missed you today,” he whispered against your ear. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, feeling the tension from earlier start to melt away. “I missed you too,” you replied, nuzzling his neck. “But you're always so busy.”

“I know,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “But I promise we'll make up for it tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, his hands running soothingly up and down your back. You could feel the heat between them building once again as he pressed his body against yours.

“Come on,” he murmured after a moment, breaking the kiss reluctantly. “Maybe we can find somewhere more comfortable to continue this conversation.” He winked at you playfully, tugging gently on your hand as they walked towards the parking lot together.

You found a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in the corner of their neighborhood. The atmosphere was dimly lit, with soft music playing in the background, creating an intimate ambiance that felt miles away from the hustle and bustle of their office building.

Miguel ordered some wine to share and spent the next hour or so just talking about anything but work—your favorite movies, your dream vacation spots, and even some silly childhood memories. As you both sipped on your drinks and savored each bite of food, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with him.

When you finally finished eating, Miguel took out his phone to check the time again (a habit he couldn't seem to shake), only to find that it was much later than he thought. “Wow,” he said, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “I guess we really got caught up.”

“Don't worry about it,” you replied with a smile. “We both needed this.” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Come on,” he continued. “Let's head back.” You left the restaurant hand in hand, feeling more relaxed and connected than you had all day.

As you walked down the street together, Miguel's arm brushed against your shoulder every now and then, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. When you finally reached his office, he took your hand and led you inside. The room was dimly lit as well, casting long shadows across the floor as you made your way to his desk. He loosened his tie before turning around to face you.

“So,” he began softly, running a finger along your jawline. “What was it you said earlier, hmm? Giving me a hand?” You bit your lower lip nervously as he stepped closer, bringing his body flush against yours. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “How about we make use of that right now?”

Miguel lifted you onto his desk, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him. Your legs were spread wide, offering yourself to him in an unmistakable invitation. With trembling hands, he reached down and cupped your soft mound, feeling the heat radiating off it as he began to massage gently.

“Miguel,” you whispered hoarsely, arching your back as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He teased at the sensitive folds between your legs before pressing slowly inside. You cried out softly at the sensation, hips jerking involuntarily. His other hand found its way to one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipple as he took control of your body with both hands.

You whimpered, leaning into his touch. “Oh God, Miguel...I need you.” He looked into your eyes, his own filled with desire. “Estoy aquí, mi vida. Voy a cuidar de ti bien.” He murmured before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Miguel positioned himself between your legs, his cock at the entrance of your wet and eager pussy. He rubbed the head against your sensitive folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. His fingers traced gentle circles around your entrance, spreading your folds wider apart as he prepared to enter you.

With a deep breath, he pushed forward, slowly inserting his thick cock into your tight heat. You gasped as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him stretching you out. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he began to thrust in and out. The sensation was exquisite—the fullness, the depth, the feeling of being completely claimed by him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you arched your back, pressing your breast against his chest. Your hips undulated in time with his rhythm, begging for more.

His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as he began to thrust harder inside you. You moaned loudly against his lips, needing more of him. With one last glance at you, Miguel allowed himself to give in to the passion that had been building between them. As his pace quickened, his free hand slid down your body until it found its way to your clit. He started rubbing it in circles, adding another layer of pleasure to an already intense experience.

You continued to moan his name, and his own pleasure intensified. His hips bucked against yours in time with the thrusts of his cock as he reached for your clit again. He rubbed it harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The desk beneath you creaked under the force of your movements. You could feel the heat between your legs building up, ready to explode at any moment.

“That's it,” Miguel whispered hoarsely against your lips. “Let go for me.” With one final thrust, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. And then you both did—you screamed out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of blissful release.

His hot seed filled you up, and together you panted and shook from the intensity of their shared experience. As your heart rate slowed and the world around you started to fade back into focus, Miguel leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and full of love.

𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.

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sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

Text

Fall Drabbles, Day 2

prompt: "Are you cold"

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Matt waits patiently for you to admit he was right.

warnings: swearing, adorable fluff

a/n: I had so much fun writing this one. I hope y'all enjoy.

w/c: <1k

Bracing yourself for the bitter chill of the wind, you couldn't help the shudder that overtook you as the hair on your arms rose. You didn't need to glance at Matt to see his smirk, you could feel it--directed at you like a goddamn laser, searing the words 'I told you so' into the back of your head.

“Don't even say it.” You grumbled, crossing your arms in a desperate attempt to retain the brief warmth the subway had provided.

“Say what?” Matt asked innocently, mirth dancing across his face. With a huff you stalked ahead of him towards the stairs, leaving him to his own devices as you both exited the stop.

Tonight was date night, the first you'd had in nearly a month. The two of you had been swamped recently--Matt with work and deviling, you with travel and family drama. Tonight should have been a much appreciated reprieve from the mundanity of your day to day life, and it was, until the sun went down.

Matt, in his all-knowing glory, had warned you that the gorgeous autumn day would give way to a crisp evening, encouraging you to wear a jacket to fight off the frigid air. Putting WAY too much faith in your midwestern heritage, you had simply laughed. “It's 65 out, Matty. Practically swimming weather.”

Cursing your past self's lack of foresight, you shivered miserably against the blasting current of night air. You and your boyfriend had enjoyed a delicious dinner and were headed to a candlelit orchestra performance in the park. Wearing nothing but a flattering, thin-sleeved, dress, you were quickly losing steam—but you would rather freeze than admit your mistake to your cocky partner. His ego didn't need the boost.

Catching up to you and taking your arm, Matt's fingers slid into the crook of your tense elbow. How was he so WARM? Sure, he HAD worn a jacket but it was disgusting out here! It couldn't have been over 35. Ugh, curse him and his tendency to run hot. It made the thought of cuddling up to him so tempting. His beautiful hands tracing soft patterns along your skin as you slowly thawed from his body heat...

No. Stay strong. You can do this.

The two of you finally arrived at the venue for the performance--- unfortunately, the seats were not only outside but crafted with stainless steel. Their shining material sapping the remaining warmth from your skin mere seconds after sitting down. You set your jaw and tucked your body in as tight as you could without drawing the attention of your overly perceptive boyfriend. And it worked...for the first half of the performance.

By the intermission, even the strength of your resolve couldn't keep your teeth from chattering violently. Matt looked at you, with more concern than you were expecting. “Sweetheart, if you need to leave—”

You shook your head defiantly. “I'm-m f-fine.” You stammered, tightening your jaw once more.

Shaking his head at you, Matt huddled closer to you. ”You're clearly miserable, let's go home.“

Sighing in defeat, you dropped your trembling head against his shoulder, sinking into the cloud of heat around him. ”I'm c-cold, Matty.“

The shit-eating grin reappeared across his face. ”What was that? Are you cold?“

Elbowing his stomach, you glowered at the stage. ”Shut-t up.“ Moments after your reluctant admission, a heavenly warm garment was slipped over your shoulders.

Exhaling with relief, you nestled into his side. “Thank you.”

“Of course, darling.”

“I'll wear a coat next time.”

Matt laughed at your empty promise, knowing damn well that he'd be giving you his jacket again and again this fall—and he wouldn't have it any other way.

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hotluncheddie · 3 months

Text

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 3.3k | cw: alcohol, weed | rated: E | part: 2/2 | tags: pre/post s4 au, handjob, hurt/comfort, raised catholic steve harrington

part 1 | ao3

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00:20 January 4th: Basement

It’s nice, Steve thinks, down here in the basement. Where theres a hazy cloud of smoke from a group in the other corner, cigarettes and weed mixing. Where Steve can relax, let his mind wander to how it smells the same down here as Eddie’s hair had when he leaned towards him on the staircase.

His mind floats there. In the pews, thinking about Eddie. It makes Steve’s knees itch.

He slipped down to the basement because he had to. Too many people up there with solid plans of how to get out. Too many who already made it, visiting Hawkins like a novelty, a little trip to some place you can associate with the past, separate from the present.

They kept trying to draw him in, upstairs, wanted to get to know the guy with the good aim. Some of them don’t even know about King Steve. He’s just some guy, too some, up there. Steve doesn’t know what’s worse.

It all made Steve start to fidget, uncomfortable. He doesn’t have a plan to get out, doesn’t think he could even if he did. Hawkins isn’t a novelty, not to Steve, it holds his leash. He knows he’s tethered to the place, anxious and afraid to step too far over the thresholds. Knows it’s a little pathetic. But he can’t escape the fear that it’ll all fall apart, crack open and gape and he’ll be locked out. Fail those people who he can’t. Loose the barely there grasp he has on their attention already.

But, even in the muddy swamp of his thoughts, he’s enjoying his spot in the corner, on an empty sofa.

He’s definitely feeling the beers now, feels floaty and heavy at the same time. But he also downed a cup of water before sneaking away. So, it’s not taken him too far, not lowered his inhibitions enough to remind him of flower faces and underground fortresses.

It’s more, just, suburban wallowing. A familiar tipsy sort of buzz. A burning in the back of his throat as his brain jumps from brown eyes to varsity hoodies and back to long dark curls.

He does the breathing exercise a nurse taught him. Breaths in, holds it, breaths out, sinks into the couch.

He’s okay. Robins okay. She’s having fun. He’s here and it’s okay.

‘What was that about not liking attention Stevie, hm?’ Eddie asks as he sits down next to him, handing over a plastic cup and knocking their knees together.

Steve starts, tries not to show how his heart rates gone up. How Eddie’s fingers brushing his own makes his blood fizz. ‘What’s this?’ He asks, clearing his throat, blinking to clear his head.

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, all drama and mischief. ‘Eggnog.’ Then he taps his nose. ‘Special eggnog.’

Steve raises his, takes a sniff. He almost asks Eddie why he’s down here but that would be stupid, and make Eddie leave. He’s not drunk enough to do the first and, also not drunk enough to admit how his chest caves in a little at the thought of the second. ‘Where’d you even get this?’ He settles on.

‘Fridge. Said it goes off tomorrow so, figured I’m kinda doing them a favour.’ Eddie smiles. He speaks so easily, deep and lilting and musical, drawing Steve in with every breath.

Steve shifts on the couch. Lets their knees touch, slide together. It’s heady, and viscose, like swimming through stained glass. Steve wants more. Steve decided to take, wants to take. Can kneel and see what he gets given. Smooth wooden pews. A basement at a party.

Steve downs some, it’s sickly. It’s strong. That buzz seems to double.

He steps into the robes of who he used to be, who kissed Nancy in the girls bathroom. Who’d whisper in girls ears at parties, make them moan. Blow a kiss up at the stands at baseball games. Did it all, like it was nothing.

He sucks air in through his teeth, wincing at the taste. ‘This is gross Munson.’ he says, laughing. He reaches over and pours the rest of his cup into Eddie’s, pushing their shoulders together and feeling the heat radiating off of Eddie’s bare neck. ‘Plus, if I drink any more my dick won’t work.’ He doesn’t think, just says, low and murmured.

The rosary beads are back, circling his throat, Steve thinks he likes the way they bite.

‘Is that so?’ Eddie ask, smile obvious in his voice, gleeful and surprised. Speaking almost in Steve’s ear.

‘Yup.’ Steve turns his head fully to the side, so close to Eddie’s face. Lets his eyelids droop, licks his lips. ‘What about you, King Freak, that never happen to you?’ He’s pushing, treading from shallows into deep muddy depths.

‘Do not fucking call me that dude.’ Eddie shoves him lightly, the way girls used to, push just so they can pull him back in. ‘But yeah, obviously I do know, it’s science man.’

Steve slouches back next to Eddie on the sofa. Still close, still sharing body heat. ‘Dude, man, what’s up with that, bro?’ Steve teases, set alight.

‘What’s up with that, bro?’ Eddie slides a hand down his face with a groan. But Steve can see he’s fighting a smile, hiding it behind his palm. Eddie’s rings glint in the lamplight.

Steve thinks he could get used to this, being so close to Eddie. Watching his face split in half with his grin. Wide open, pink and white. Steve wants to taste.

Eddie looks at him, incredulous, but his eyes are sparkling. ‘For a smart guy, you’re kinda dumb when you drink.’

Steve smirks, but something in him feels porcelain and breakable. ‘Dunno how I fooled ya into thinking ‘m smart. But ok.’ He says, smirk falling, he swallows, remembers again who he is, who he is now.

‘Well you’re the only person on this sofa with a diploma.’ Eddie says, something hard in his eyes, but eggshell thin.

‘Technicalities.’ Steve moves in closer again. As if reaching out.

Steve sees it now, they’re hard-soft. Church wafers before the spit. So similar in their differences. And Eddie knows.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He stands slightly to pull at the legs of his jeans and put his cup on the floor. When he sits back down Steve notes that they’re definitely closer than before. Hip too hip, shoulder to shoulder. He can feel Eddies bony elbow and the muscle on his thigh, weed-cigarette filling his nose, along with something warm, something Eddie. His eyelashes are long and thick. Steve swallows. Fiddles with his empty cup.

‘Your question before, about attention?’ Steve starts, shifts so he can look up at Eddie’s profile better, take in the line of his nose. ‘I still like it, attention. Just, only when it’s from, certain people.’ And Eddie turns to look at Steve, eyes a little guarded, but Steve takes a chance, glancing at eddies mouth, for just a second, licks his lips. Watches as eddies lips curl up at the corners.

Eddie stands and Steve feels sticky, hot and cold. But Eddie turns towards him, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a perfectly rolled joint.

‘You wanna come outside? Help me smoke this?’ Eddie asks.

Steve looks at it, looks up at Eddie. ‘No.’ Steve looks at Eddie’s handcuff belt buckle. ‘But I’ll come outside with you.’

Steve looks back up through his eyelashes and Eddies eyes are hungry.

00:59 January 4th: Eddies Van

‘Shut. Up. Harrington.’ Eddie says into Steves lips, tugs at the back of his hair and Steve feels his eyes roll back on a moan.

Nancy used to do that to him sometimes. He doesn’t want to think about Nancy. Eddies hands are bigger, stronger. Nancy seemed to get flighty if Steve ever let go too much, unmoored and untethered, she didn’t like to swim in the deep end.

They’re in the back of Eddie’s van, Steve leaning against the side, legs sprawled out in front of him, Eddie in his lap.

He can just hear the the music coming from the house still, its muffled but, they’re not that far, Eddie’s right, Steve supposes.

He also doesn’t really care. He just wants. Smells varnished wood, and incense.

‘Make me.’ He goads and his insides light up at the dark fire enveloping Eddie’s eyes.

‘I knew you’d be dangerous.’ Eddie murmurs to himself.

Steve desperately wants to know what the fuck that means. But Eddie just stubs his blunt out and pinches the end to save it for later. ‘Hold this’ he taps it against Steve’s bottom lip and Steve opens immediately. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, taste Eddie on them. ‘Don’t let it fall, okay Stevie?’

Steve nods, rock hard. An intense, soul crushing need to be good has him clamping his lips tightly around the joint, ear ringing.

The clack of his belt being undone makes Steve close his eyes and breathe deep through his nose. Eddie palms Steve’s cock over his jeans, eyes hooded and dark.

Eddies nimble fingers go for his fly, he lifts one of Steve hands to rest on his shoulder. Gets his cock out of his boxers so fast Steve feels himself sink, the van melting away until it’s just Eddie. Just Eddie in his lap and the smell of smoke and ash. Steve holds on for dear life.

He lets his other hand come to Eddie’s hip, thumb stroking where his t-shirt sits at his waistband, dipping to feel skin. Eddie’s hand on his cock is making him feel desperate, but he doesn’t make a noise, just feels his eyes wet.

‘That’s it, staying so quiet, take what you need.’ And Steve’s lets his hand roam. He wants to feel, touch skin. He strokes Eddie’s neck, fingers trailing over his torso, searching up under his shirt. Slips his hand around to Eddie’s back pocket and squeezes. Eyes rolling in his head again over Eddie’s lean lines, his sharp edges and soft parts. The hand twisting his dick so perfectly. He’s not gonna last.

He opens his eyes again and Eddie’s bore into him. Dark and big and eating him whole. His mouth is open, slack, relishing in taking Steve apart. Steve whines weakly in his throat, Eddie’s hand comes up and grabs that handful of hair again, tugging once.

Steve tips over the edge, spilling into Eddie’s hand. Shuddering through his orgasm with a muffled groan, his hands still squeezing what they can reach of Eddie. One hand under his t-shirt, fingers in ribs, Steve wants to crack Eddie open, reach inside.

Eddie tucks him back in his boxers. Takes the joint from his lips and places it behind his ear. Steve’s breathing still not back to normal but he leans in for another kiss. Needs to feel tongue and heat and know that this is really real. Really happening.

That it’s not Steve of ’84 or ’85, that he made it to ’86. That he survived, that he didn’t nail himself on a cross and leave the rest up to fate. That he chose, he offered and took.

Eddie kisses back holding his jaw with a clean hand and sucking on Steve’s lower lip. Steve goes for Eddie’s fly but his mouth gets pulled off, Eddie pinching him at the chin.

‘S’all good sweet thing. Can’t cum when I’m crossfaded, mind gets all muddled and I can’t focus enough.’ And he says it with a smile, like it’s no big deal, just a fact. Steve feels his insides churn with need.

He needs to repay the favour. That’s how, how he can show it. Show how he needs, how he wants. How his hearts is just begging to be ripped out, bloody and still beating. And he can give that over, he can. He wants to.

Eddie pecks his lips again and moves off of Steve’s lap, tossing the hanky into a corner.

‘I gotta find Rob first but, uh, you wanna come to mine? Hang out? My parents aren’t home.’ Steve asks, maybe he can still fix this, keep it. His voice is higher than normal, still breathy. He clears his throat, swallows, tries to feel the van under his feet.

Eddie’s settles across from him, holding his lighter. He looks over with a little lazy smile. ‘Ah, sorry toots, that’s a little too close to romance for me.’

Steve tries not to let his cracks show, but he knows his valleys can open, sometimes the maw in his chest can’t be close quick enough. ‘What’s wrong with romance?’ He asks, his bandaged up heart lodged in his throat.

‘Just not something I do, it’s no stress, I’ll just see you around Harrington, yeah?’ And it’s so casual. So final.

Steve swallows and nods and checks his fly is done and slips out the back door. Hopes his cracks weren’t too blatant, too ugly.

He aches. He needs to confess.

6:15 July 15th: Hawkins General, Room 136

Eddie was finally healing. His blood had been drawn and his skin had been grafted, he’d taken his meds and even attended a couple government mandated therapy sessions.

He’d admitted in them that yeah, he didn’t trust easy. But no one other than Wayne had shown him they cared with such consistent acts of kindness. Everyone else left him in the dirt. So no, he doesn’t trust easy.

They’d said you have to give people a chance to be kind to you, and if they do fuck up you’re always within your power to leave. But that sometimes kindness goes both ways.

Eddie knew that. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying.

Even more terrifying because Eddie had a face for the kindness. A place he aches to send his own, packaged and pretty and waiting to be unwrapped.

See, Steve Harrington was kind. Steve Harrington gave Eddie some of his blood, he’d helped the nurses change his bandages once or twice when the staff numbers were too sparse during a shift. Filled his water cup and cut his ugly but actually pretty good hospital meatloaf for him.

He’d kept Eddie squeaky clean, no chance of being kicked in the dirt, left dead in a ditch, whatever metaphors works best.

Steve was good. Eddie knew it. He did. But that doesn’t mean he’s not scared.

Because Eddie wanted to be kind back. He hoped holding Steve’s hand though getting his blood drawn, and letting him nap half curled on Eddie’s bed were enough for now. To let Steve see. See that he always wants to stroke his hair if a nightmare hits, not just when they’re fresh from hell. That he always wants to hold his hand, not just when there’s needles involved.

It’s actually, like, all the time that he wants to hold it, it’s really bad. Terminal.

The first time Steve filled his water unprompted Eddie honestly thought he heard a church bell ring, like, how can someone be so good?

And, even worse maybe, is that Steve Harrington was also a dork.

A genuinely silly guy. Cracking jokes unprompted just to get someone to laugh, someone to groan which makes someone else laugh. And he sits amongst it, this happy little chaos he’s created, and he beams.

Eddie thinks about it sometimes. That night in his van, at that random house party he can’t remember. He only remembers Steve, where Steve was, what he was doing, how he looked. Eddie thinks about that.

Thinks about his face when Eddie said he couldn’t hang out, how he seemed to masking tape himself back together, disappointed and fragile. But Eddie just couldn’t take anything further. Couldn’t risk letting Steve see him.

Sometimes Steve follows Wayne to the hospital chapel. He doesn’t ask, but he wants to. Wants to know who Steve prays to, what about, why his knuckles are still bruised when most of his other injuries are healing. Why he never talks about his parents. Why he hates the colour red. Where he goes when he zoned out and his whole face mangles into a frown, into an aching maw, Eddie wants to know, if just to help a little, ease his pain.

Eddie thinks about Steve, as he knew him and as he knows him now. About people being kind, about a therapist saying it goes both ways. And Eddie thinks he wants to be brave.

For Steve Harrington, Eddie can be brave.

‘Look what I snuck in for you today, fit for a king, no?’ Steve slips two Yoo Hoo’s from the inside of his jacket. Coming to sit in the plastic chair by Eddie’s bedside.

(Covered in crochet blankets that Robin brought over the moment she clocked that Steve fell asleep here sometimes. Steve likes to stick his fingers through the holes while they watch tv. Eddie likes to watch Steve’s fingers.)

He looks tired, Steve, deep purple stains under his eyes. But Robin said he’s brighter when he’s here, knowing Eddie and Max are alive, getting to see them. She said it was like he forgets when he’s not here, ghosts clouding his vision. Maybe it’s just more distracting here. Eddie doesn’t know. He just knows Steve’s here now. That he brought him chocolate milk and that he’s smiling.

Eddie holds the drink up to the light with two hands, opening his eyes wide, like it’s something holy. ‘Ah, the stuff of angels.’

Steve snorts and reaches up to open it for him. Eddie’s heart clenches.

Steve is kind, and good and brave. Eddie can try and be half that, for Steve.

He takes a sip, watching Steve do the same. ‘This kinda reminds me of eggnog.’ He muses, heart rate picking up.

‘I’m not putting whisky in it Eddie, Wayne would skin me alive.’ Steve says, flat. Beaming when Eddie snorts. He’s so wide open, so eager, and bright.

‘I know that.’ Eddie says. ‘Just, I guess it’s you then, reminding me, of eggnog.’ He tries, hiding behind his riddles.

Steve looks confused, glancing between their drinks and Eddie’s face.

He needs to spell it out, Steve deserves his plain honesty, Eddie takes a deep breath.

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Eddie starts.

‘Dangerous’

‘Shhh!’ Eddie fights down a grin. This is serious. He, ugh.

‘I’ve been thinking about uh, changing opinions’ Eddie tries again, folding his hands in his lap and squeezing the pads of his fingers with his nails.

‘Oh yeah?’ Steve’s still wide open, still pleased and bright.

‘Yeah, first is that maybe, ah, maybe I do want to try romance. Now, actually.’ Eddie forces. Holding his breath.

Something flickers across Steve’s eyes. half hopeful, half guarded. He turns his head, but his eyes stay trained on Eddie.

Eddie flounders, for a second. Aware suddenly of where they are, how this is maybe not the most romantic place to talk about it. Them. But, Eddie also doesn’t want to wait any longer. He’ll be able to leave soon, he just, he wants. Needs Steve to know, before everything changes again, while he’s between worlds and mostly healed and Steve it here. Steve was smiling.

‘Maybe I’ve found someone who, who deserves it.’ Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘Who I couldn’t be there for before, but I want to be here for now.’

Steves eyes soften ‘Oh.’ he whispers, fighting down a smile, looking down at his lap. He fidgets, pulls at his jacket, takes another swig of his drink.

He moves his chair closer to Eddie. Won’t look him in the eyes but he grabs Eddie’s hand that’s sitting on top of the bedsheet, linking their fingers together.

‘Wheel of Fortune’s almost on’ Steve’s says, looking ahead, still not letting his smile fully bloom. He’s squinting. It’s ridiculous.

Eddie grins. ‘Yeah, right right, of course’ He squeezes Steve’s hand and grabs the remote. Vows to not let go unless he has to, vows to keep Steve safe, help his bruises heal. Show him romance and kindness and love.

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written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. it’s finished! ty again for organising!!!

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

Also tagging: @museumgiftshoperaser @kas-eddie-munson @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @i-amthepizzaman @estrellami-1

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

#it’s finished <3 #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #my fic #pre s4 au #catholic steve harrington #<3

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marlynnofmany · 10 months

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Scary Stories in Space

If you’ve ever wanted to experience the rapt attention of bodybuilder-shaped swamp monster/goldfish crosses, who are equal parts muscles, fins, and floaty silk clothes with absolutely zero interest in blinking, then I can’t speak highly enough of telling ghosts stories to a pair of Frillians.

That hadn’t been the plan; it just came up in conversation while we tidied the storage hold. Our ship was going to take on a lot of cargo soon. There were things on the floor that needing picking up, which was boring, so we passed the time with stories.

As it turns out, Frillians love ghost stories.

“Then what happened??” asked Blip when I paused for effect. She’d frozen in place holding a wrench and a heat sensor, wide-eyed in a cloud of fluttering silks and fins, all electric blue and bright red and deeply invested in my story. Her brother Blop was her mirror in aqua and lavender.

“Then,” I said, picking up a crowbar, “When he went to let her out of the car, he found a hook on the door handle!” I caught the crowbar on my hand dramatically.

“Ohhh!” they chorused with a gratifying flinch, for all the world like frat bros watching someone get hit in the nuts. “Near miss! Oh, wow!”

I grinned and put the crowbar in a cabinet while they rehashed the very simple story to each other. I’d already told them a few others, and I was going to run out of stories before they ran out of enthusiasm.

Blip asked, “What do you think they did when they found that?”

With a shudder like a bird fluffing feathers, Blop suggested, “Throw it as far away as possible? Run into the house?”

Blip nodded, fins still flared slightly. “Maybe both. Then call the authorities.”

I walked past to collect a stray cable. “I don’t know about the authorities where you’re from, but mine wouldn’t have been much help.”

The twins discussed this some more, then agreed that the best response would be to run screaming into the house and lock every door they could find. Only then did they remember that they were supposed to be cleaning, and resume putting stuff away.

After three seconds of silence, Blop asked, “Know any more?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Lemme think.” I shelved a box and looked around the room for inspiration. No ghosts hid in this storage hold, though it had been home to many an animal cargo. The reinforced clear pen was still empty, and had been for a while — our cargos were mostly boxes these days. The door to the hallway stood open, and I almost had a thought about some doorway-based haunting, but couldn’t pin it down. I moved to stack a few stale tubs of animal food while I thought.

Then my cat Telly walked in, recently free to roam the ship on a provisional basis, and I had an idea. The fact that Telly had made a beeline for Blip’s spare overcoat helped. She burrowed right under, sniffing out the shrimp sticks that were undoubtedly hidden in several pockets.

Neither Frillian noticed.

“There was one story,” I said, watching them both perk up like meerkats. Fishy, musclebound meerkats. “The legend of the Pants With Nobody Inside Them.”

“Pants With Nobody Inside Them?” they dutifully asked.

I tugged at my own pant leg. “People where I’m from wear a lot of clothes that are shaped to fit our bodies, and have the same silhouette when they’re empty. Just imagine how creepy and unsettling it must have been for the first person to venture into a dark forest at night, and see the shape of another human — but only the bottom half. Walking … steadily … towards them.” I took slow and deliberate strides toward the far side of the animal pen, drawing their gaze away from the shrimp stick excavation.

“That sounds terrifying,” Blip declared. “Did they run?”

“Oh, you bet they did!” I said, jogging slowly in place, then speeding up. “But the pants ran after.”

Blop squeaked in fear, muscly arms bent to bring his hands to his mouth.

They had no idea how hard I was working not to laugh. “That first person got away, and so did the next. But it kept happening, and the pants got faster each time. People started to worry about going outside, and wonder about their own clothes — they’d look at a pair of pants on the floor, and imagine it starting to get up on its own. Then OH JEEZ WHAT’S THAT?!” I pointed through the clear walls of the pen.

Both Frillians whirled and screamed at the sight of — as promised — an item of clothing moving around.

Telly bolted in panic, with one shrimp stick in her mouth and several others scattering in all directions. I heard someone down the hall yelp, though it was hard to make out over the Frillians screaming.

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

“WAS THAT AN ANIMAL?”

“WAIT, THAT WAS YOUR ANIMAL, WASN’T IT?”

“WHAT WAS IT DOING IN MY COAT??”

I leaned against a wall, laughing. I couldn’t hold it back any more. “Stealing your shrimp sticks,” I managed. “Sorry.”

After a little more yelling and hyperventilating, during which three other crew members came to see what the emergency was, they finally calmed down. The rest of the crew was waved away.

“So,” Blip said, clearly determined to speak evenly, “How does the story end?”

I was still grinning. “Somebody makes friends with the pants. They were chasing after people because they were lonely.”

“What!” Blip exclaimed, fins spread and eyes wide, which just made me burst into laughter again. Blop echoed her.

“It’s a children’s story,” I explained. “I think the pants wanted to dance with other people. Or they wanted someone to wear them; I honestly don’t remember the details. But they were lonely.”

Blop shook his head. “Lonely haunted clothing,” he said. “Your planet sure has some memorable ones.”

Blip picked up her coat at arm’s length, and I couldn’t tell if she was looking for damage or ghosts. “Maybe it was hungry,” she suggested.

“I’m sure many ghosts like shrimp sticks,” I said, picking one up from the floor. “I’ll bet we could think up a new story about that. Maybe they’re haunted by the ghosts of the shrimp, mad about being eaten?”

Their dismayed expressions told me that such a story might ruin their favorite snack for them.

“Or,” I said, turning on my heel, “We could think up a story about a haunted… stun gun! Maybe it keeps a ghostly copy of all the people it’s stunned. How do you think a story like that would work?”

To my delight, Blip and Blop proved just as interested in composing new stories as listening to old ones. The rest of the tidying session passed quickly.

I take no responsibility for the nightmares they inflicted on the rest of the crew.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

(And yes that’s a reference to the Dr Seuss story.)

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #humans are storytellers #ghost stories #featuring the return of everybody's favorite space himbos #even though one's a girl #their species handles gender differently anyway #they definitely qualify #writeblr #writers on Tumblr

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hornyfor-redacted-onmain · 3 months

Text

Secret Secret Chapter 4

OT8 Straykids x reader, ABO AU

Masterlist | Part 3 | Part 5

The rest of the week passed by surprisingly easily. You got around to meeting everybody else on the team, and you did your best to remember their names (thankfully most of them were older than you, which allowed you to easily pull the Oppa or Unnie card when you forgot). They were all kind and helpful, and at the worst indifferent to your presence, which allowed you to make it through the week fairly easily.

You were busy with promotional translations and working out the translation for a few videos that would be dropping the next week, so you saw little of the others as you spent most of your time on your computer. Even so, you managed to find some free time to meet up on Friday with Maya, who was swamped with picking out and modifying all the MV outfits that were scheduled for the end of the month.

When she plopped onto her chair with a sigh, you could only give her a sympathetic look. “Hey, you sure you have the time to have coffee with me?”

“I need a break. Believe me, this caffeine hit is the only thing keeping me going right now.”

“Looking forwards to the weekend?” You asked, knowing that she got Saturday and Sunday off.

“Hmm, I’m definitely going to enjoy my weekend,” Maya confirmed, sipping her coffee. “My girlfriend’s birthday is on Sunday, so we’re planning a small party to celebrate. What about you?”

“I think I’m just going to relax at home.”

You still had to come in on Saturday for a quick meeting to confirm the projects you had worked on that week before they were posted, but it would only be for an hour or two, which left the rest of the weekend free. Normally you and Sooyoung would go out, but you weren’t really feeling it, especially after what happened last week.

Maya lifted her head and gave you a soft smile. “Do you want to come to the party?”

“What time is it?”

“We’re planning for noon. A nice little lunch and then just a hang out afterwards. It’s just going to be me and my girlfriend, a few friends, and some coworkers,” Maya said.

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll probably stop by for a bit. Just send me the address.”

Both of you realized the issues immediately after you spoke, and she was pulling out her phone before you could even say you didn’t have her number out loud. The two of you exchanged numbers and had a comfortable conversation for a few minutes to finish your drinks. Your lunch officially ended when Maya received a text. She scowled.

You shared a knowing look. “Duty calls.”

-0-0-

The company building was practically empty this early on a Saturday morning. On the one hand you were mad at having to be awake so early on the weekend, but on the other hand you appreciated them getting this out of the way so you would have the rest of the afternoon free. The guard nodded in greeting to you as you passed to the elevators, and you smiled in return.

The meeting passed by pretty quickly, all things considered. Soojin, Jeonhui, and the head advertisement manager all joined you, along with a couple of other employees, and you went over the promotional material. You felt a little nervous when presenting your work, but nothing seemed out of place, and they quickly moved on to the next person with little to no words.

Maybe somebody else would have been offended by the way they seemed to look past you, but you took comfort in the indifference, knowing that it was the lack of attention that allowed you to be where you were now.

The meeting was over just as the clock struck 11, and Jeonhui wished you a good weekend as you were leaving. A few of the other employees lingered behind to talk with each other, but you weren’t close or comfortable enough to any of them to join them. You just wanted to go home.

The elevator reeked when you opened it.

The smell of spoiled milk and rotten strawberries hit you, and you immediately clamped a hand over your nose. Disappointment, anger, fear. Your omega was immediately on guard, and you felt like your heart had dropped down to your stomach.

“Ugh, what is that scent?”

“Is that … an omega?”

The other employees who had been behind you walked over, and even when the elevator doors closed once again, the air still lingered with the smell of an omega in distress. It made your hackles rise, and you felt the need to find that omega and comfort them, while another part of you wanted to run. An omega in distress usually meant danger.

You swallowed hard.

The female employee wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Gross. What’s an omega even doing in the building to begin with?”

“Probably one of the trainees. They like to come around and practice on weekdays, as if the extra effort changes the fact that they’re an omega’s.” The male employee said, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Disgusting.”

“That’s omegas for you. Think they deserve the world just because they’re so dainty and fragile. Ugh, I can’t stand them. Why does the company even allow omegas to audition anymore?”

“I don’t think they do. Must have just presented.”

“Let’s just take the stairs. I’ll get a cleaner to sterilize the elevator.”

The two employees walked away, either ignorant of or completely unaware of your rapidly changing mood. Their words echoed in your head, and you found your eyes welling up with tears, not self-consciously, but in anger. Anger at the way they talked so callously about another person, most likely a child.

They way they so nonchalantly and openly admitted the prejudice against omegas in the work force. And the way that neither one of them even thought for a second to go looking for that poor omega in need of help.

You weren’t like them.

You took the elevator, stopping on every floor you had access to and sniffing the air from the hallways. One of the upper floors, where the practice rooms could be found, had a lingering scent, but it was faint, which told you the omega had probably come from there.

You then checked the office floors below them, but they were surprisingly empty. Finally, you found yourself on a floor that you had yet to see, but the second the doors opened you knew it was the right one.

It was the studio floor, which held recording studios as well as production studios.

And it reeked.

The scent in the elevator had already begun to dissipate, so the strong smell was a good sign that the omega was still in the area. Why a trainee would be on the studio floor was beyond your knowledge, but you were on a mission. Your own omega snapped her jaws at the thought of the harsh cruel words from your fellow colleagues.

Gross.

Disgusting.

I can’t stand them.

You knew even if you had been a beta those words would have been offensive to you, and the fact that they said it so easily made your skin boil. You were grateful for your own scent blockers because there was no way they wouldn’t have noticed your soured mood otherwise.

You followed the smell past the entrance area, which had a small kitchen area where coffee and snacks were available, for those who didn’t want to go all the way down to the cafeteria. Or, part of you considered, for those who stayed late enough that the cafeteria would be closed. You thought of Chan, the way the other staff members warned you to keep an eye on him.

‘He’s a workaholic,’ One translator had mentioned in passing. ‘It’s admirable, if not a little stupid.’

Thinking of the alpha made your chest ache.

It felt almost fitting that the farther down the hall you went, in the opposite direction from the recording studios and instead towards a series of locked and labeled doors, when you realized where exactly the scent was leading you. Nearly at the end of the hall, you found a door labeled ‘3racha’.

The door was closed, but the scent told you there was someone inside.

You felt most of your anger dissipating.

On the one hand, you found yourself almost relieved. If there was anybody that you had gotten to know in this past week that you would trust with a distressed omega, it was Chan. He had 2 omegas on his team. He was a comforting figure. And above all else, he was a good man. You trusted him to have the situation handled, and to provide the compassion necessary for the situation.

But on the other hand, your omega refused to leave without making sure that the other was okay. It was survival mentality, the need to stick together, especially in a world like this that would so easily shove the weak and underappreciated away.

But checking in on the other omega would mean having to confront Chan, and you weren’t ready to have to deal with him just yet. You couldn’t look him in the eye without your omega’s want bubbling up, and this close to the surface, you wouldn’t be able to suppress it.

You didn’t really get to make your decision before the door opened, and you startled, legs tensing as you considered running.

A young girl who couldn’t be older than 15 nearly smacked right into you, and she quickly raised her wide-eyed gaze to meet with your own, mouth opening in shock and her scent hitting you with a burst of surprise. Strawberries and milk, sweet and pleasant despite the worry that it conveyed.

“Oh, I- Sorry!” She bowed so low that her hair flipped over her head, the strands hitting you in the face. And then she realized what had happened, lifting her head up with a gasp. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- are you okay?”

You raised your hands to show her you meant no harm.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to apologize.” You eyed her tear-stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

You wanted to pull her into a hug. You had to remind yourself she didn’t know you, and that would be weird.

‘It wouldn’t be weird if she knew you were an omega’ your own omega grumbled in your head.

You ignored her.

“You should go home, Jisoo. Your parents will get worried,” A voice said from behind the girl, and your eyes snapped up. “Don’t worry about today. Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you, Oppa.” Jisoo gave you a weary look, but bowed to you nonetheless. “Have a nice day, Unnie.”

“Get home safe,” You answered back, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

You both watched Jisoo make her way down the hall, the newly presented omega now calmer and safe. Your omega settled at the confirmation, and you felt your energy level drop, prompting you to press your hand against your forehead and close your eyes to let out a huge sigh.

“You know, I think you’re the last person I expected to find on this floor,” Changbin mused.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the beta watching you with a curious look, and you winced. Now that you had calmed down and everything was okay, you realized your behavior might have seemed erratic and confusing to anyone who wasn’t aware of your true presentation. Which Changbin was not.

You suddenly wished that it had been Chan inside the studio instead.

“There was a distressed scent in the elevators, and I … was worried,” You explained, trying to make yourself sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, eyes drifting from your figure to the wall behind you. “Well, it’s a pretty shitty situation, I can’t lie.”

“I heard the company isn’t allowing omega trainee’s anymore.”

“Yeah, they made the decision last year.” Changbin shook his head. “She’s devastated. I calmed her down, told her I would try to figure something out, but ….”

He trailed off, a frown pulling at his mouth. You couldn’t smell him, his sweater doing a good job of hiding most of his scent from you, but you could tell just by his body language that he was angry. You felt a sense of reassurance at that.

Maybe Chan wasn’t the only best option for this situation.

“Are you two close?” You wondered, thinking about the direct path Jisoo had made from the practice rooms. “She headed straight here once she realized what was going on.”

“Were not particularly close, but Chan has told the trainees multiple times that if they ever need anything, they can come to us for help. I just happened to be the one here today.”

You nodded. “They look up to you guys, don’t they?”

“I think all trainee’s look up to idols,” Changbin said, running his hand through his hair. “I kind of wish Chan had been here instead. Or maybe even Jisung. I’m not sure how much I helped her.”

“I think you did a good job. She didn’t smell distressed anymore,” You reassured him.

Changbin’s eyebrows twitched down for a second, even as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

You both stood there in silence for a few seconds. Eventually, you sighed again.

“Well, I guess I should get going. Umm, I guess have a good weekend,” You said.

“You too.”

When you got to the end of the hall, right before turning the corner, you glanced back. Changbin was still standing at the doorway, watching you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-0-0-

Maya’s girlfriend, Isa, was an amazing cook, and judging by the gleeful look on her face as everyone practically devoured the food, you had a feeling she knew. You practically moaned the moment you took your first bite. A beta you assumed was one of her friends melted in his seat, and then jokingly asked Isa for her hand in marriage.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” Maya joked.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You giggled, and Isa leaned over her side of the table to smile at you. “How’s the food?”

“I’m normally not the type of person to encourage the birthday girl cooking her own meals, but hot damn. I can see why they put you in charge of the cooking,” You praised.

Isa beamed. “Exactly! That, and Maya burns water.”

“It was one time!”

The rest of the table laughed loudly, and Maya rolled her eyes. The other guests began to converse between themselves, and Isa eyed you with a small smile.

“So, you’re the new translator,” She began, and you paused with your fork an inch from your mouth. You nodded. “How’s it going? Maya tells me you joined at an inconvenient time, what with the tour starting up soon.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh? She told you about that?”

“I’m her girlfriend, she tells me everything,” Isa said nonchalantly.

“Everything?”

Isa grinned, leaning closer. “Everything. Maya’s nice and quiet and gets her job done, so sometimes people are very loose lipped when around her. You’d be surprised by the amount of drama that goes on in that fancy building of yours that nobody every hears about.”

“Oh? Like what”

She simply winked. “I’ll tell you later.”

Later turned out to be while you were washing dishes, a task you decided to take up to get away from the room full of alpha pheromones. You knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, since they were under the impression you were a beta and had no way of knowing about your sensitive omega nose, but it was still enough for you to get overwhelmed.

Isa eyed the kitchen door where Maya was with the other guests, and then she was leaning in close to you as she passed by. “Two of the stylists are hooking up.”

“What?!” You nearly dropped the plate you were holding.

“JYP tried to get one of his nephews into the company, but he bombed his audition so badly that he couldn’t even use nepotism to save it.”

You let out a sharp noise of surprise. “Oh my god, Maya really does tell you everything.”

“Yup.” Isa smirked. “Want to hear more?”

“I’m not sure I should,” you protested, but after a moment of her just staring at you knowingly, you broke out into a smile. “Oh, who am I kidding. Tell me everything!”

“Well, I’m not quite sure about this one, because it’s more recent, but apparently one of the idols is having a lovers spat with another one of his members.”

You blinked in surprise. “That’s definitely news to me.”

“Yeah. She was complaining about how the recent photoshoot had to be delayed an extra hour because Felix refused to be in the same room as Chan.”

“Wait, Felix and Chan are the ones fighting?”

Isa paused. “Oh, yeah. I forgot you were working with them. Don’t let Maya know I told you anything, it’s supposed to be kept hush hush.”

“Right. I won’t say anything,” You promised.

-0-0-

“Why are you and Felix fighting?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. In your defense, you would have said anything in that moment, if just to end the awkward silence that had fallen over you and Chan when the two of you found yourselves alone in the meeting room.

You hadn’t intended to be alone with him. You weren’t even supposed to be in the meeting room in the first place. You had been passing by after dropping off some papers that Jeonhui had asked for, and just happened to almost get hit by a door as it opened, with Felix storming out. You both paused and stared at each other for a second in surprise.

“Oh, hey.”

Your eyes darted towards the open door, where you could see a dejected Chan standing with his hands on his hips. “Hey.”

Felix gave you a strained smile as he passed you by, and you watched him go for a second before you entered the meeting room yourself. Chan only lifted his head a fraction as you walked in. You closed the door behind you, and the two of you lingered in that awkward silence before you finally decided to break it in the most stupid way possible. You knew the question was out of line the second it was out of your mouth.

Why had you even walked into the room to begin with? Why hadn’t you just walked away?

Chan finally lifted his head completely, and you froze at the sight of his eyes.

They were red.

“Shit.“

Your hand reached blindly behind you for the door handle, but before you could grab it Chan was suddenly at your side, hand gripping your wrist tightly. Your breath caught in your throat, the sudden bitter scent of his alpha hitting you in the face.

He swallowed hard. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t think I should even be here,” You admitted, but you allowed him to pull your arm back in front of you anyways. “Chan, your alpha-“

“I know,” He whispered, closing his eyes. “It’s okay, I’m not … I can’t stand watching another omega walk away from me right now. Just … stay.”

With his alpha so close to the surface, you found it hard to refuse. While you could have just stood there, allowing him a moment to come down from his headspace on his own, there was something so painful about watching Chan battle with his own emotions and instincts. It was an impulsive decision, much like the choice to walk into the meeting room, much like the need to say something.

You grabbed his hand, the same one still holding you, and brought it up to your lips. With a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, Chan let out a shudder, and he easily allowed you to pull him closer until his face was pressed against your neck.

While your omega scent was still covered with the artificial scent of beta, it would have to do. You softly allowed him to scent you, and it only took a few minutes before Chan came back to himself with a sharp inhale.

He pulled away from you so quickly he stumbled on his feet. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You reassured him, licking your lips. “You needed some grounding.”

“Fuck.” He ran his hand down his face.

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Felix is really mad this time. I think I fucked up,” He said.

“Mind me asking what happened?” Chan was silent, and you took a hint. “Right, none of my business then.”

“No, it’s definitely your business.”

You paused from where you had started to turn back to the door. “Sorry?”

“Felix is mad because of the omega I slept with last week. You.”

“What?”

“He wants to meet you.”

“What?”

Chan let out a sigh, and he pulled out a chair to sit down. After a moment of consideration, he offered one of the chairs for you, and you were quick to take it since it felt like your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. The more he talked, the more dizzy you felt.

“Explain,” You said, staring Chan down.

“Felix knows I slept with an omega last week. I let it slip that I was still in contact with you, accidentally, and now he thinks that I might be having a serious relationship with you- well, the omega. He wants to meet you, and when I told him he couldn’t, he got upset. He thinks that … he thinks I might be trying to replace him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” You said with a scowl.

“I know. I thought it was just a petty little argument, but he … I think he actually believes it. He got so upset, yelled that me not wanting him to meet the other omega was suspicious and that if it wasn’t serious I would have just said that, and I obviously can’t explain it-“

“Because of me.”

“Because it’s complicated,” Chan corrected, rubbing his face again. “This isn’t on you, sweetheart. This is my problem.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Your omega is mad at you because of me, Chan. He thinks you’re replacing him with me. And if you told him the truth, none of this would be an issue.”

“If he thought it was just a one-night stand, then this wouldn’t be a problem anyways. I’m the one who fucked up here,” Chan argued.

“Why would he even think it was more than that anyways?” You wondered.

Chan froze.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as he just stared at you with wide eyes, not wanting to believe the first thought that ran through your head. But the second thought, and then the third, all felt less convincing. Your smile dropped pretty quickly.

“Chan. Why would Felix think it was more than a one-night stand?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, then down his face, and then he shot to his feet to turn away from you completely. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious,” You breathed.

“This was before I knew you were a part of the company. I told him the morning after, before the meeting, and I obviously didn’t have the chance to explain what happened.”

“Jesus, Chan! You were planning on courting me?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Fuck.” You slumped back in your seat. “Why didn’t you just tell him I rejected you or something?”

“He would know I was lying. I wouldn’t have had time to ‘meet up’ with you this past week because we’ve been busy, and if he thought I did after he asked to meet you, he would have been even more pissed at me for ignoring him.” Chan explained. “It’s just … I thought I’d have time to come up with something, but it’s been a very stressful week.”

“Fuck,” you repeated.

Chan turned back around, giving you a tired look. “Yeah, fuck.”

He shook his head, and with his hands on his hips, he began to pace the length of the meeting room. You glanced a look at the clock and realized that you needed to get back to your desk before someone noticed how long you had been gone. You needed to finish your work for the day. You needed to leave the room and hope that nobody caught you here with Chan. What you needed to do was clear.

But you couldn’t think about any of that. You could only think about the strained smile on Felix’s face as he passed you by, the havoc that Chan had to have gone through for his alpha to take over, the fact that their relationship was being strained because of you. You closed your eyes, but you could still hear the footsteps as Chan paced.

“Tell him.”

The footsteps paused, and you opened your eyes to give Chan an even look.

He didn’t turn around. “What was that?”

“Felix,” You clarified, letting out a soft sigh. “Tell him the truth.”

Chan spun around with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not letting your pack relationships fall apart because of my choices.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Do you trust Felix?”

“With my life,” he said with no hesitation.

“Then so do I.”

The two of you stared each other down. Your head still felt fuzzy, but your chest no longer felt like there was a weight holding you down. You pulled yourself up from the seat, and only took a second to gain your composure.

You gave him a nod. “Well, I got to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You didn’t bother answering him, instead making your way towards the elevators with an urgency that only grew the further you got from him. The dizziness had gone away, and as the reality of the situation started to dawn on you, so did your clarity. Being that close to Chan, letting him scent you with his alpha so close to the surface, had been a terrible decision. Your body felt hot, and you were grateful for your scent blockers.

Today was chalking up to be a horrible day.

You were going into pre-heat.

61 notes · View notes

writingwithciara · 10 months

Text

Safe & Sound ~Rafe Cameron~

summary: at a boneyard party, rafe catches a random touron drugging y/n’s drink when she’s not looking. they aren’t friends and they’ve never said a word to each other so why would he decide to save her? 🤷🏻‍♀️

word count:3.6k

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warning: mention of drugs, fluff

a/n: kinda sorta canon rafe, but also sorta not. idk. had this saved in my drafts since i started this writing blog & thought it was about time to finally get it out on the site

masterlist

"We're throwing a party at the Boneyard tonight & JJ is insisting that you come." Kiara followed y/n around her dad's store as she continued stocking shelves.

"I wish I could, Kie. But I'm swamped here. My dad's got me closing up tonight & I can't ditch my responsibilities again. Not after what happened last time." y/n narrowed her eyes at her best friend.

"It's not my fault you fucked JJ in the storage room and didn't lock the doors. That was your mistake."

"You said you'd cover the counter for me."

"Oh, shit. You're right. I'm sorry." Kiara stopped her friend. "I'm sure your dad will make an exception for this. It's a big night. It's your best friends birthday."

"It's not your birthday." y/n chuckled.

"Okay, you're right. But we can tell him it's JJ's birthday. I don't think he knows when that is."

"My dad is not the biggest fan of JJ. Hasn't been since that night, you know. But maybe we can use Pope. He loves Pope." y/n placed the final can on the shelf. "I'll call him right now."

After conversing with her father for less than a minute, y/n and Kiara were closing up the store and heading to the Boneyard.

"Hey, you made it. I was starting to think Kiara had failed to get you here when she texted me earlier. Glad your dad let you go early." JJ smiled when y/n approached him. He handed her a drink and she took it quickly.

"He only let me go because I told him it was Pope's birthday." she smiled. "I'm quite surprised he fell for it. You'd think since he loves Pope that'd he know when his actual birthday is."

"Guess you were wrong." JJ took a sip of his drink. "Why didn't you just tell him it was my birthday?"

"He's not a big fan of you right now. Especially not after the other night."

"That was a fun night."

"It really was, wasn't it?" y/n looked around the boneyard and only recognized 4 people. "Geez, did you only invite tourons or something?"

"No. We invited pretty much all the teenagers on the island, even the kooks." JJ looked at her. "It was Sarah's idea."

"Oh that's just fantastic. One more group of people I don't want to see right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Tourons have been bugging me all week at the store. Stupid fucking rich brats." she shook her head. "All I want to do this weekend is hang out with you, Kie & Pope." y/n tipped her head back and finished her drink. "I need another one."

JJ handed her another cup of alcohol before the words were even out of her mouth. Y/n accepted it and continued to suck down the beverage.

An hour later, she had lost track of JJ and was dancing by herself. On her 5th beer, she looked around the party, noticing the kooks were already filling in the empty spaces, making the party more occupied than it was before.

On the other side of the party, Rafe stood alone with a drink in his hand. Aside from his friends, he only saw 2 others he recognized at the party. The rest of the partygoers were tourons.

He saw JJ with some random girl and then he spotted y/n dancing by herself. The girl looked like she was having the time of her life and that put Rafe at ease. He's never said a word to her and their separate groups never got along but he's seen her around the island before and he thought she was cute for a pogue.

While he watched her dance to the beat of her own drum, he also watched all the male tourons gather around her. Most of them were just there to watch her but while her head was turned to talk to one of them, another one hovered his hand over her drink and dropped something in. Rafe noticed this but didn't want to make a scene around y/n so he watched the touron very closely. When he was alone, Rafe approached him.

"What did you put in y/n's drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"What did you put in that girls drink back there? Did you drug her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, bro. I don't know who you're referring to either. I'm just here to have a good time."

"You think spiking the drink of some girl counts as having a good time? If so, you're just pathetic." Rafe stepped closer to the guy, only now realizing how big the dude was. He took a quick look around but couldn't find y/n anywhere. "Where is she? Did one of your friends take her somewhere, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You put something in y/n's drink and now she's gone. So are some of your friends. I swear, if anything happens to her, I'm going to find you and it's not going to be good for you."

"Like I'm afraid of you." the touron chuckled and went to walk away, but Rafe beat him to it. Adrenaline took over all of his instincts and he punched the guy in the face and when he doubled over, Rafe kneed him in the face. Luckily they weren't around a whole lot of people around so if he wanted to, he could make an easy escape.

Unfortunately for him, the touron called for his friends. They gathered around Rafe and one of them held him back while the main touron began throwing punches. The crowd began to grow and the remaining tourons were keeping Kelce and Topper from helping their friend. It wasn't until a gunshot rang throughout the air that the tourons let Rafe go and ran off. Kelce ran to help his friend off the ground and Topper looked to see who had fired the gun. He was not expecting to see JJ lowering it.

"JJ, what the hell is wrong with you, man?"

"Are you seriously getting mad at me for saving Rafe? I didn't have to fire the gun, you know."

"I know. Sorry." Topper helped Kelce with Rafe and looked at his friend. "What the hell happened, dude?"

"The guy...tried to...drug..."Rafe closed his eyes.

"Who did he try to drug?"

"Y/n....he tried to drug y/n."

JJ stormed off and Topper assumed he was going after the touron. Kelce put Rafe in the back of his truck and took the keys from him before climbing in the driver's seat. Topper got in the passenger side & looked back at Rafe.

"So, why did you try to beat up a guy who was so much bigger than you, just because of y/n?"

"It's not right that he tried to drug her." he shook his head. "She's kind of cute though, isn't she?"

"How much did you have to drink, man?" Kelce questioned.

"A few beers. Why?"

"You just called a pogue cute." Topper chuckled. "You're clearly drunk."

"So what if I am?" Rafe looked out the window and wiped the blood from his cheek. "Maybe she's not so bad."

On the other side of the island, JJ was at y/n's window. He had shown up at her place a few minutes ago with blood dripping from his lip and a bruised cheek. After he heard Rafe say that the touron drugged y/n's drink, he found the guy and tried fighting him.

He was lucky enough to walk away with only a few marks and he made it all the way to y/n's bedroom. She was in the bathroom getting the first-aid kit so she could clean him up.

"So, are you going to tell me what kook did this?" y/n smiled as she re-entered the bedroom. She set the kit down, pulled out the rag and poured alcohol on it.

"It wasn't a kook. It was a touron." he winced when she wiped the blood off his lip. "He was huge and had like 4 friends with him."

"Why did you think that fighting them would be a good idea? Are you an idiot?"

"Not entirely." he looked up at her. "After he and his friends beat up Rafe, Topper asked why it happened & Rafe mentioned that the big guy drugged your drink. So I went after him."

"Rafe fought him too? Why would he do that?"

"Something about seeing the guy put something in your drink. I guess it set him off and he thought he could handle 5 guys at once."

Although it sounded strange to her, y/n couldn't help but smile a little. "Is he stupid? Why would a kook risk his life for me? Especially one that has never said a word to me. That's ridiculous."

"I don't know. Maybe he thinks you're hot or something." JJ just shrugged and leaned against the pillow on y/n's bed. She put the kit back in the bathroom and laid beside him. "He wouldn't be wrong to think that though. You really are hot."

"Thanks, JJ." she looked at him and smiled. "I need you to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"Never get in a fight with someone who's bigger than you, just to protect me."

"Okay, fine." he chuckled. "I just really care about you."

"And I care about you, JJ." she smiled and cuddled up next to him. "Thank you for being you."

"No problem, y/n." he smiled as they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, y/n woke up and JJ was already gone. She thought back to what JJ said last night and her mind couldn't help but picture what Rafe must've looked like after the fight.

After her shift at the store, y/n headed to Figure 8. She was hoping to find Rafe and talk to him but she had no idea which house was his so she walked to the country club where JJ worked. He wasn't on the schedule today so he would not be helpful, so y/n decided to wait for a little bit.

After an hour of waiting and not seeing Rafe or his friends, y/n was about to give up and go home. That is, until she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Hey, it's Topper, right?" she called out to him. He was with his mom but he stopped to look at y/n anyway, ignoring the look he was receiving from his mother.

"Yeah, that's me." he excused himself from his moms company and walked over to y/n. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you could tell me where Rafe was. I need to talk to him."

"I'm not sure he would like for me to divulge that information to just anyone." Topper looked her over. "But you're not just anyone, are you?"

"No, I guess I'm not." she looked down at her feet.

"He's under the docks. Likes to go there to look at the water & to be alone. It's kind of the only place his dad doesnt know about." Topper went to walk away but turned back. "If he asks, I did not say a single word to you. Got it?"

"Yes sir." y/n smiled as she parted ways with the Kook. She went down to the docks and sure enough, Rafe was exactly where Topper said he'd be. As she approached him, the shaking of his voice caught her off guard. He was talking to himself.

"Are you kidding? You're never gonna be good enough. Not for your dad. Not for your friends. Not even for any girl. Especially not her." he muttered. y/n looked at his back and sighed. Rafe must've been having a struggle with his own mind.

"Rafe?" her voice startled him, causing him to jump & almost land in the water.

"Jesus! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to sneak up on someone?"

"As a matter of fact, no. My dad did mention it once or twice though." she looked out at the water just as his gaze fell on her.

"So, what brings you to Figure 8?"

"Had to come talk to the guy who supposedly saved me last night."

"Oh. You heard about that?"

"Of course I did. JJ came to my house all beat up, talking about how he had to kick the crap out of the guy who tried to drug my drink. Then he told me that you were the one who initially tried."

"Yeah. I tried and failed to kick his ass. He called in his friends."

"Well, that's just not fair, is it?" she turned to him with a smile. "So why did you do it? Why would you go after a guy who spiked my drink?

"To be honest, I don't even know. Something just came over me, I guess." he shrugged and kicked at a can that the waves had washed up. "I mean, we've never even talked before right now. It was weird."

"Weird indeed." she bit her lip and looked around. A few moments of silence passed before Rafe decided to speak again.

"I was, uh," Rafe paused for a moment. "I was wrong about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought that since you were a pogue & such good friends with JJ that you'd be so much like him. But you're not. Maybe you're crazy, but the good kind of crazy." Rafe's frown turned into a small smile. But it vanished quickly when y/n looked at him. He thought she didn't see it but she definitely caught him.

"Rafe Cameron, are you trying to compliment me?"

"Yeah. Maybe." he chuckled. "Yeah. I was."

"Well then, how did it feel to compliment a pogue?" y/n raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.

"It was definitely a different feeling." he looked at her. "But honestly, I liked it. Especially because someone like you definitely deserves to be complimented."

"Okay. Truth time." she crossed her arms and leaned against one of the beams supporting the docks. "Did you try to beat up some touron last night for spiking my drink because you thought it was the right thing to do, or did you do it because maybe there's a part of you that thinks that everything your dad has told you your entire life is a lie?"

"I did it because," he took a deep breath and leaned next to her. "I felt some kind of strange feeling, kinda like I had to protect you & only you."

"Rafe, that's actually kinda sweet. Especially coming from you." y/n smirked and looked at him. The moonlight was reflecting off the water and for the first time that night, she could actually see the damage the tourons did to him. "Oh my goodness. Your face looks like shit. Did you even try to clean it up?"

"Kind of." he shook his head. "Kelce tried but apparently I wouldn't let him. So I tried to do it myself and as you can clearly see, it didn't work out so well."

"If you want, I can do it. I'm really good at patching people up. I am friends with JJ, after all."

"Okay. But can we do it at your place? My dad will kill me if I show up with a pogue." he immediately looked at her, thinking his words might've offended her. "Not that it's a bad thing. But you know how my father thinks."

"I get it. I understand." she looked at her watch. "My dad should be out right now. Let's go to my place." y/n walked away and waited for Rafe to follow her. When she felt his presence next to her, she continued her way to her house.

"Let's take my truck. It's a lot safer." he opened the door for her and she gave him a quizzical expression. "Just get in."

"Yes sir." y/n looked at him and got in. "I'll give you directions when we get onto that side of the island."

Minutes later, y/n was sneaking Rafe into her bedroom & sitting him down on her bed. She left him alone to go get the first aid kit from the bathroom & he glanced around her room. Everything was neat and organized, totally against what a pogue really was. When y/n returned to her room, Rafe was standing with his back to her, a picture in his hand.

"Is this you?" he turned to her and let her take a look.

"No. That's, um, my mom when she was my age. I found it when I was going through her old stuff." y/n set the photo & box down. Rafe instictively sat back on the edge of her bed as she pulled a chair up to work on him.

"What happened to her? Did she leave you?"

"In a way, yes." y/n dabbed the cloth on the dried blood around Rafe's lip, causing him to wince a little.

"What does that mean?"

"She didn't leave us by choice. I barely knew her though because she died when I was 3. Cancer." she reached behind her with her free hand to grab the anti-biotic ointment, applying some to another cloth, and rubbed it on his neck.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." he looked up. "I barely knew my mom too. But she didn't die. Just decided to leave us. And for a pogue who only wanted the money she had."

"That's horrible." y/n looked over the bruises and shook her head. "No wonder your dad hates pogues."

"He's the only one who really does. Sarah has John B & Wheezie just doesn't like to judge people on their economic or social class. Neither does Rose, sorta."

"And what about you? What do you think of pogues?"

"I think I was totally wrong about you guys. Here you are, fixing me up, even though the kooks have been horrible to you your entire life. And then there's JJ, who I thought was a total prick, who fired a gun to scare off the tourons who were kicking my ass last night. You're really not that bad."

"Neither are you, Country Club." y/n smiled to herself as she remembered the nickname Barry gave Rafe once. When Rafe chuckled at the name, it made y/n smile even more as she rubbed the last of the dried blood from his face. "There. Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. Thank you." he stood up and walked slowly to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped himself. "This may sound weird but would it be at all possible to stay a little longer? I-I'm not ready to go home just yet."

"Of course. Make yourself at home." she walked over to him and smiled. "I'll go get us something to drink & maybe I'll get some food. Any preferences on either?"

"Just a beer, if you can get one. And if you have any kind of snack, I'd appreciate it. I don't care what it is."

"Got it. I'll be right back." she grabbed the first aid kit and walked out of the room.

Rafe took another look around the fairly large bedroom, taking in everything he didn't notice before. There were fairy lights hanging from her ceiling and another string of lights were on her wall with little polaroid pictures attached at every clip.

He looked at all of them and it unknowingly brought a smile to his face when he gazed upon one of her and JJ smiling like idiots. They looked like they were having fun, the type of fun Rafe wished he had the freedom to have.

Y/n returned a few minutes later with 2 beers and a bowl of chips. She handed him a bottle and he accepted it gratefully. "Do you wanna do something or do you want to sit here in silence while we eat and drink?"

"You ever play Never Have I Ever?"

"Yeah. JJ & I play it all the time." she smiled. "You wanna play?"

"Sure." he took a sip of his beer and started the game. For the next hour, Rafe & y/n went back and forth, slowly getting to know each other better. The rounds started out normal and innocent but the longer they played, the more the questions got personal. "Okay. Last one. Never Have I Ever....wanted to hook up with someone in this very room at one point in time."

y/n looked at him and took the last sip of her beer while Rafe finished his drink as well. They stared at each other for about 10 seconds. It was like each one of them was daring the other to do something they could possibly regret later.

To y/n's surprise, it was Rafe who took the initiative and made the first move. His lips collided with hers and the kiss was everything y/n was definitely not expecting.

Soft, sweet & gentle. Loving, even.

When they pulled away from each other, Rafe had a smile. It was genuine and it was probably the happiest he'd been in a while. Y/n smirked at the boy in front of her.

"Damn, Cameron. Where'd you learn to kiss like that?"

"I have no idea." he chuckled. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, if you really like me, I'm sure you wouldn't like the answer."

"I think I know the answer." he looked back at her lips and it took all of his willpower to not kiss her again so soon. "You're lucky I really do like you, y/n."

"I really like you too, Rafe Cameron." she smiled and went against what her brain was thinking, following her heart instead as she pulled Rafe back into a very tender kiss.

It was everything both of them had subconsciously wanted for so long. They were both safe & sound as long as they were together.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

Text

The One That Got Away - Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: language, angst.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

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Another three weeks had passed, and Y/N willed their bad luck wouldn’t strike again tonight. Their last attempt at a second date saw her bedridden with the flu and doubly miserable at another failed attempt to rekindle a relationship with Dean. He had been understanding and told her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she knew he must be just as frustrated as she was that Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned all hope on their second chance.

Today though, Y/N felt fit and healthy, Dean wasn’t on shift, and she was spending hers in an empty office catching up on paperwork and overtime claims. She’d instructed her staff to only disturb her if it was absolutely necessary. If things finally went their way, neither should be stuck or injured at work this time, and that thought gave her hope that this would finally be it.

Dean was full of nervous energy and decided the best way to use it up was to give Baby a long overdue tune-up, clean and polish. It was perfect timing, too, because then she would be looking her best when he took Y/N out to the fanciest restaurant Lawrence had to offer, and by the time he was finished, he’d be a few hours closer to his date with Y/N; it was a win-win.

He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten sick and had to cancel last time. The whole day fate hadn’t been working in his favour, so when her text came through, it was the cherry on top of what had been a really fucking shitty day. When he called her later to see how she was, she sounded dreadful, and he’d immediately offered to come over and look after her. Y/N declined, saying all that would achieve was him getting sick too, and then their date would have to be postponed for even longer.

Knowing Y/N was working today made him a little apprehensive that something would crop up at the last second and force another rain check. Still, he was trying to keep that niggling thought buried. And so, with a coffee-filled travel mug, Dean made his way outside with his tools and got to work sprucing up his second best girl.

Her message came in at 4pm.

Y/NCheck the news. I’m so sorry, De xx

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and huffed loudly at their atrocious luck. Turning on the news, he watched the aftermath of an overturned lorry on the freeway, blocking the road in both directions and multiple vehicles colliding with it or other vehicles.

“So far,” the news anchor reported, “there have been five fatalities and over twenty people with injuries of varying severity, and several people are still trapped in their vehicles. Emergency workers are doing all they can to free them, with relief crews being called in to assist.

“Meanwhile, Lawrence Memorial Hospital is nearing its emergency patient capacity and has set up an outdoor triage area for the walking wounded, keeping the hospital building free for those with more serious injuries that need attending to.”

His cell rang shortly after, and Dean was only briefly disappointed that it wasn’t Y/N. He knew she’d be swamped, and he probably wouldn’t hear from her until everyone from the accident had been treated. Still, he had a sliver of hope that it might’ve been her.

“Bobby, I just saw the news,” Dean answered the call.

“So you know why I’m calling?” Bobby said, his question rhetorical. “I’m sorry to ask you to work when you’re supposed to have plans tonight…”

“It’s fine. Y/N’s on shift and already sent me a text cancelling. It’ll be all hands on deck at the hospital, so I might as well come in. At least it’ll stop me from drowning my sorrows,” Dean chuckled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sure you’ll get that date soon,” Bobby replied, but right now, that wasn’t much comfort to the younger man.

“I’m starting to think we should just cut our losses. Maybe something’s trying to tell us something,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean-”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten,” Dean cut in, not feeling in the mood to hear another person say how perfect they were for each other when the simple task of going on a date seemed impossible.

It would be a long night, but at least he’d have work to keep him from spiralling down the self-depreciation hole he usually did when Y/N had to cancel plans.

With all trapped persons rescued and the accident site secured by police and awaiting cleanup, Dean’s Firehouse had been posted to the triage area at the hospital to help wherever possible. They were giving first aid, handing out food and water, and checking up on patients in the hospital on behalf of concerned family and friends who were outside waiting for news of their loved ones.

He’d even got to speak to Y/N briefly a few times, and those little moments of light in what was otherwise a dark situation had kept his spirits up. And now that the last few patients were being treated, he finally felt he could breathe easier. Maybe, he’d even be able to convince Y/N to go for a bite to eat before they both went home and slept.

Trawling through the hospital’s hallways, Dean’s only focus was finding the nurse who was slowly taking hold of his heart again and taking up most of his thoughts since coming back to town. He almost missed her as he turned another corner and walked down another corridor.

Stepping back to the room he’d just passed, Dean paused at the window, praying he was wrong and that the woman sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her legs and head on her knees, wasn’t Y/N. Opening the door and quietly stepping into the room, his heart ached at the realisation that it was her and that the usually strong and kept-together nurse was in tears.

“Hey, Princess, what’s the matter?” Dean asked, making his way over and crouching in front of her. Y/N looked at him, eyes red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears, and he threw all caution to the wind as he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

They remained embraced on the floor for a while before Y/N’s tears stopped, and she’d stopped gasping in shallow breaths between her heartwrenching sobs. Dean was at a loss on what to do at first, but then he remembered that this was Y/N. His Y/N. And though she was stronger than she looked and more capable than people gave her credit for, sometimes the only way she could process her emotions was to cry.

“Sorry, I needed that,” Y/N eventually spoke and wiped at her eyes. “Days like this, when we lose so many people, never get easier to process. Sometimes I just need a little time to cry it all out.”

“No need to explain to me, Princess. I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that if you don’t let it out now, it’ll eat away at you and eventually consume you. I’ll always be here to ground you whenever you feel like that, alright?”

“Thank, De,” she sniffled and smiled softly at him. “I suppose we should get back out there, huh?”

“In a few minutes. The last patients are being treated, and Ellen, Jody, and Bobby have called a staff briefing at 5am. We’ve got a little time to calm you down some more,” Dean kissed her forehead and smiled, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter and pulling her into his body a little closer.

After urging everyone who’d gathered for the briefing in the hospital canteen to have something to eat before they went home, Dr Ellen Harvelle, Charge Nurse Rowena Macleod, Sheriff Jody Mills, and Fire Chief Bobby Singer thanked their staff for the exceptional job they’d all done in the face of such tragedy and dismissed them from their duties. Reserve police officers and firefighters had started their shifts early to allow those who’d worked all night to go home and rest.

The doctors, nurses and hospital staff who’d been on shift when the accident happened or been called in as backup would be relieved by those who’d either volunteered to stay and work a double shift or agreed to come in on a rest day.

Dean got to have breakfast with Y/N after all, but they were joined by Benny, Bobby, and Jody. He couldn’t complain, though, as he saw the smile come back to Y/N’s face as she talked to Jody and playfully rolled her eyes at Benny’s southern charm and blatant flirting. Dean didn’t rise to the Cajun’s bait, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Now, I know you’re a workaholic, Y/N, but please tell me you didn’t volunteer to stay on?” Uncle Bobby asked with the stern look that never made her listen to him when she was a child and certainly wouldn’t make her listen to him now.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been working for…” Y/N glanced at the fob watch attached to her scrub top pocket, “twenty-three and half hours. If I stay any longer, I would be endangering the patients, particularly because I haven’t had a break, let alone any sleep.”

“Good. You look like death warmed up,” Bobby stated before shovelling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. “I feel like it too.”

“Go home, honey, before you fall asleep at the table!” Jody chuckled, and Y/N responded with a lopsided smile before grabbing the empty plate and used cutlery and standing from her seat.

“Alright, I’m going! Uncle Bobby, Jody, I’ll see you Sunday. Benny, it was nice to see you again,” she smiled tiredly at the blue-eyed man.

“You too, cher. Take care of yourself, you hear?” Benny winked at her before digging back into his breakfast.

Dean stood and lifted his used dishes and walked with her to place them on the counter, which was home to all the used crockery. “You doing okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, nothing a hot shower and a decent sleep won’t fix,” she smiled.

“Alright. Call me later, once you’ve had some sleep?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I hope you’re going home to get some sleep too?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have another debrief back at the firehouse, then, I am going home and crawling straight into bed,” he chuckled at her smile of approval and with a final farewell, Y/N left the hospital canteen, grabbed her purse from her locker and went home to sleep.

Waking up hours later when the sun had gone down, Y/N lay in bed trying to process everything that had happened the past few days. It was always tragic when they lost a patient, and serious incidents like yesterday were awful and never got easier to deal with. In moments like this, it was easier to think of the tens of patients they saved than the six they had lost.

The next thing to cross her mind was Dean. Y/N had been glad he was posted at the hospital because she was really starting to miss him. The first couple of times they couldn’t go on their date, she’d still been able to see him, but she hadn’t seen him in twelve days because she’d been so ill with flu, and she didn’t want Dean to see her like that. Sure, it might have been extremely vain of her to think that way, but she felt it was too soon to be at her absolute worst with him.

Y/N was also disappointed that things kept coming up. Granted, neither of them had chosen what happened to stall progress on their budding relationship. No one could’ve predicted her father would die right after their first date and put any thought of another date onto the back burner for weeks.

Neither of them could’ve guessed that Jess would need to finish work early and Y/N would need to be the one to take her shift, nor could Dean or her have done anything to stop Cas from getting injured on a call. And there was no way either could have foreseen what happened yesterday, resulting in them having to work.

Suddenly, she had an overwhelming pang in her chest and a strong urge to be with him, to say to hell with the fates, dates, plans, and schedules. She just needed to be with him. Needed him.

Knowing Dean wouldn’t be working after pulling an all-night shift, Y/N threw the bed covers off her body and showered. She was going to go over. Who needed a date anyway? She and Dean had been on hundreds of those and, she hoped, would go on hundreds more.

This was no longer about want for Y/N. It was about need.

Next Chapter >>

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#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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