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#she has no name but she’s comin together
magesmiths · 1 year
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finally piecing together my in/famous oc feels so good she’s making my brain go brrrrr
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eebie · 10 months
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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months
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quiet!choso
quiet!choso who has no problem being out by himself, but refuses to talk in any other way than a hushed tone in public. only using his regular voice at home or with family, but he still barely spoke in full sentences.
quiet!choso always looks to you to order for him. voice too deep and quiet for waiters and drive threw workers to hear him so he always just lets you do it.
“i’ll take the number five with fruit punch as the drink pleaseee.” you chirped into the receiver. pretty skirt riding up your thighs as you leaned halfway over the center console to order your food.
“okay! anything else?” the employee asked. you looked at choso, who stared deep in thought at the menu before moving his lips towards your ear. “same thing…please” you smiled at how soft spoken he was, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for his cuteness before giving the woman his order.
quiet!choso who not only speaks quietly, but moves in silence as well. there has been too many times where your soul has left your body because this man has come home from work without making a sound. just quietly changing his clothes before sitting on the couch to watch his shows.
you were in the main bathroom, just getting done with some cleaning. your earphones were playing sza softly in your ears as you hummed along to her voice. as you walked from the toilet to the shower, you glanced out the door and your heart dropped to your ass. there was a man on your couch, hood on his head as he sat comfortably watching tv. you covered your mouth from the scream that you wanted to release before quietly reaching for your phone to call your boyfriend.
since you hid in the tub, you missed the part where choso pulled his phone from his pocket, giving it a confused look before answering it. ‘why is she calling me if i’m home?’ he thought as he quietly spoke to you through the receiver. “hello?” he instantly grew worried at your shaky breaths, quietly getting up from the couch before slowly walking to where he saw you cleaning. “t-there’s a man in the house”
choso stopped in his tracks, turning around before looked around the empty living room and kitchen. “where?” he said softly walking towards the small black pistol he kept deep in the cushion of his recliner. he slowly pulled the weapon out, being as quiet as possible before walking towards your bedroom to further his inspection. “h-he in the living room. got a black hoodie on with his hood up. looks pretty big too.” choso took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he realized his mistake. you always told him to let you know when he’s home if he doesn’t see you when he walks in the door, but of course he forgot. “mama that’s me. i’m home from work” before he could say anything else you hung up, standing up from the tub before walking out into the living room with your arms crossed.
“choso bring your ass over here right now boy!”
quiet!choso who even though is seen as an antisocial guy, goes out with you to parties and get togethers. always giving you the same quiet speech about how “a man doesn’t need a voice to keep his woman safe”.
quiet!choso who doesn’t really care what people think of him, letting his brothers and friends call him all types of names without getting irritated in the slightest.
“she already do the talking so i’m guessing she be doing to fucking too” his middle brother sukuna said with a chuckle. choso, yuji, and sukuna agreed to have “bro bonding” (clearly yuji made the name) every other weekend to “keep their relationship strong”. this time it was being held at sukuna’s cave house where the three of them ate takeout and played on the game. “kuna leave em aloneee. there’s nothing wrong with letting your woman have control” his youngest brother said, large hand outstretched on choso’s back as he gave it a small rub.
“man cut the bullshit. even yuji don’t let bitches do that shit. you should hear the sounds that be comin outta my guest room when he crashes here wit a some random broad from a party.” yuji covered his face in embarrassment, making his older brothers chuckle. choso felt if he were to tell anyone how life was at home, it would be the two knuckleheads he was raised with. a small smirk planted on his face, tattooed hands gripping his controller a little tighter as he spoke.
“if my girl ‘ran’ me, don’t you think she’d be doing whatever she wanted? when we go out, why do you think she rather sit by me than go shake her ass with her friends like she usually used t’do?” sukuna and yuji’s eyes widened, giving choso a shocked look before the two of them looked at each other.
quiet!choso who doesn’t need to talk for you to know what he’s trying to say. settling for stern looks and a tap on your thigh, ass if nobody’s looking, as a warning to get you to act right.
quiet!choso who sometimes had to use rougher tactics to correct you when you’re out of line.
“say it again” choso groaned, long girthy dick rearranging your guts as he held you up by your hair. “i w–won’t cuss at daddy” you moaned, back grazing his broad tattooed chest. wrists bound together by fuzzy grey cuffs as you dug your nails into your palms. you were so frustrated earlier that you may have let a couple curse words slip into your vocabulary while texting choso, but regardless of your instant apology, he told you to be stripped and ready for him in the bed by the time he got home from work. now you were paying for your disrespect through taking all 8.5 inches of him without complaint.
“say it louder mama. daddy can’t hear you clearly through all that moaning” choso chuckled as he listened to you whine, pretty breasts bouncing with every thrust as you tried to speak clearly for the fifth time tonight. “i won’t c-cuss at daddy ever again! fuck m’gonna cummm” he rolled his eyes, pace never faltering as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. choso’s inked hand abruptly let go of your hair, making a chuckle slip as he watched you fall to the bed with a huff, hands not able to stop you.
“now you cursing right at me. gon be here all night if you don’t clean it up princess”
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ragingbookdragon · 4 months
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Someday We'll Be All That We Need
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst
Author's Note: I made a new friend so I made that friend a fic. @temeyes <3 -Thorne
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Other than the shivering, Simon doesn’t so much as twitch in the corner they’re huddled in. She’s cold herself, but nothing feels as terrifying as losing the man wedged in between her thighs, head resting against her chest. The bleeding has stopped though, the bullet wound plugged well enough that him exsanguinating is the least of her worries—it’s the ever-dropping temperature and the broken-down cabin that scares her.
It was thirty degrees Fahrenheit when the mission started; the last reading was ten and dropping. The cabin they’d taken shelter in was worn down, broken windows and missing ceiling allowing streams of frigid winter air and snow to fall in and continue to chill their bones. Simon had sealed his wound and managed to stay awake but with the blood loss he’d suffered and the stress, fatigue had set in, and that’s when she’d found herself curled up in the corner with the emergency blanket from her kit wrapped around his torso, his body wedged up against hers, trying to conserve energy and heat.
The comms had gone down, Simon’s radio busted in a skirmish of hand to hand with an enemy, and she had only managed to get one SOS out before the line cut off. They were alone in the middle of enemy territory, in a temperature-dropping environment, wounded and unable to call for help. Her worst fears were coming alive.
She swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away, and readjusted her grip on Simon, jostling him awake in the process. “Alrigh’, love?” he murmured lowly, tongue lazy and slow; he only called her love when they were alone and serious.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “You?”
“Back’s killin’ me.”
She huffed a laugh. “I bet it is. You’re folded like a pretzel.”
Simon shifted, or tried to, and rested his head on her shoulder. “How long’s it been since I feel asleep?”
“Maybe an hour?” she blinked, looking around the room; snow was beginning to pile up where the holes in the ceiling dropped to the floor. “I haven’t really been paying attention to the time.”
“Hmm.” He breathed into her neck. “I can’t feel my toes.”
Her eyes shifted to his feet, and she let out a breath, a mixture of shock and fear. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” he admitted. “‘s bad, love. Spreading up.”
“Motherfucker,” she laughed in disbelief and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Price heard the SOS. He’s coming, okay? Just…just keep it together until then.”
Simon swallowed thickly; his eyes still shut as he nudged her neck with his mask-covered nose. “Got a safety deposit box back in Manchester,” he muttered. “Key’s in my nightstand back at base.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Got ‘bout five-hundred thousand pounds in’it.” He shifted again as if trying to get into her skin to be warmer. “Deed to a property in Herefordshire. Got it a few years ago when I was staying with Price.”
“Simon, stop,” she warned—she knew exactly what he was doing.
“Want you to get out and go live there. You’ve served long enough to get pension. You’ll be set for the rest of your life out there.”
“No. Not without you I won’t.”
He shook his head. “I don’ think I’m comin’ back, love. Not this time.”
“Don’t say that,” she stressed, turning her face to his. “They’re coming. We’ll be okay.”
Simon didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Want you to buy one of those big black Corso’s. Name her Morrigan. Let her take care of you and the land.”
Tears began to gather in her eyes. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered. “Quit it.”
“I want you to listen. I want you to be taken care of. I want—”
“I want you alive,” she cut off. “Now shut up and save some energy.”
Simon cracked an eye open and simply gazed at her. “I love you. I know I didn’ say it enough. ‘m sorry, love.”
She clenched her jaw against the wave eating her chest inside out and inhaled deeply. “Simon, stop and rest. I won’t say it again.”
He let his eyes close and laid his head back down. “Alright, love.”
***
It was at least another two hours before noise echoed outside, and it drew her from a slumber she hadn’t realized she was in; she jolted up, Simon jostling with her. “Simon,” she whispered. “Someone’s outside.” He didn’t respond to her, and she pulled away, looking at him. “Simon?” he was asleep, unresponsive to any of the stimuli around him. “Fuck, Simon?” the noise outside grew louder, and she pushed past her fear and shifted from under him, tucking him against the wall as she grabbed her gun and rose to her feet.
Kneeling down, she put a hand against his face. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.” She swallowed. “I’m coming right back, Simon.”
She rose again and headed for the door, cracking it open and slipping outside as a vehicle pulled up; tucking behind the railing, she breathed deeply and lifted her head, catching sight of a few men exiting.
Before she could even raise her weapon, she heard, “Contact!”
Ducking again, she cocked her rifle and listened as the others did the same, obviously hiding behind shelter themselves. It had to be the rest of that enemy squad that she failed to take out when Simon got injured. Fuck, she only had one mag left and she was running on fumes herself. She had to be quick. She had to be careful. She had—
“Identify yourself, or we will shoot!”
Wait, that sounded like—
“I will not say it again! Identify yourself or—”
“Price!” she called and peeked over the railing. “Price, it’s me! It’s me!”
Soap and Gaz appeared on the other side of the SUV. “Athena?”
She felt tears gather in her eyes as she stood up and lowered her gun. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so glad to see you guys.”
Price stopped in front of her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Good to see you. Where’s Simon?”
Simon.
Her heart dropped. “Fuck.” She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cabin and to the corner, the men on her heels; she got to him first and dropped to her knees, shaking him. “Simon! Simon, wake up!”
He didn’t move.
“Simon!” she called again, lifting her cold fingers to his neck. Whether it was her own anxiety or him, she couldn’t feel a thing and she started panicking. “I can’t get a pulse!” she turned to them. “I can’t wake him up!”
Soap pulled her back as Price and Gaz got to work and she thrashed in his arms. “LET GO!”
“Lass, calm down!”
“LET GO! SIMON!” she screamed, her own vision beginning to haze, exhaustion weighing taking its toll.
“We’ve gotta start compressions,” she heard Gaz say and he looked at Price. “He’s not going to make it back if we don’t do something now.”
Price looked back. “Soap, get her in the SUV, we’ll prep Simon for transport.”
“Aye, sir,” Soap said and hefted her up against her thrashing.
“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND! LET GO OF ME GODDAMNIT!”
“Lass, you can’t help him even if you wanted to.”
Her body felt like lead and she felt her limbs going numb as her breathing kicked into a wildness, head light and heavy all at the same time. She kept trying to get out of his arms when Price tossed a syringe his way, and a prick to her arm drew blackness into all sides of her gaze, the last thing she saw was Gaz yanking open Simon’s gear to press his hands to his chest.
***
There was an impossibly annoying beeping going off on the side of Simon’s bed and she had half a mind to kick him in his hip and gripe at him to turn it off; she managed to mumble something akin to it but when the beeping didn’t stop, she managed with great effort to crack her eyes open, only to be met with the sterile walls of a medical room.
It all came back in an instant and she sat up straight, yanking the IV out of arm, the oxygen tube from her nose, rolling from the bed. Her knees kissed the floor and pain seared up her legs as she scrambled for the door, only to fall again, but she crawled on her hands and knees to the handle. Lifting herself, she pulled the door open and leaned heavily on the wall of the hallway as she stumbled down, looking in every room for her lover.
“Simon!” she called weakly; the mission had taken its toll on her. She was weak, far beyond her own capacity and she was barely standing as it was. “Simon!” she yelled again, and Soap stuck his head out from a door about five doors down.
“Athena? Holy shite, you shouldn’t be up!” he made it to her, trying to help her, but she pushed past him.
“Where’s Simon?”
“Love, you need to go back to—”
“WHERE IS HE!”
Soap recoiled and recovered, gently wrapping his arm around her. “He’s down here. Still asleep.” His grip was steel. “I’ll take you to him.”
“I can—”
“You either let me help or I take you back to your room.”
She fell silent and let him, that was until she turned the corner of Simon’s room, and darted from his arms, barely managing to avoid face-planting into the hospital bed railing as she clambered onto the bed with the man.
“Simon?” she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands; he was so warm now. Tears seeped down her cheeks. “Simon, sweetheart?” she said again, pressing her head to his chest to feel his steady heartbeat thumping beneath; a choked sound of happiness escaped her, and she looked at Soap. “He’s alive.”
He smiled at her. “Yeah, love, he’s alive.”
“He’s okay?”
“Eh, we’re a little worried about his toes, but so far yeah.”
She buried her face in Simon’s chest, crying into the gown he wore, and grabbed one of his hands; she squeezed it tightly, relief flooding her as his fingers tightened around hers in his sleep.
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rafescurtainbangz · 2 months
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Distractions - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18
Minor DNI
Frat!Rafe x Female Reader
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Ask:
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Eek!!! Thanks for your ask! Frat!Rafe has a special place in my cewchie heart. I hope you're having a great weekend!
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Tags: @imyourdaninow @humanvampire13 @akashababy @dckweed @ashamedtobeawhitemanswhore27
@marahgubler @joannamuns9n @h34rtsformilli @romaescapes @jayla @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180
Warnings: SMUT, language, name-calling, drinking
Tiddie fucking, pet names (baby girl, rafey, baby), choking, spitting, tit slapping, cum play, degradation, Rafe is distracted, reader teases Rafe
✨Lightly edited✨
Rafe’s POV:
Four years and not a single loss, and here I stand, three cups away from defeat because I can’t stop staring at her fuckin’ tits.
“For fuck sake, Cameron. Can you-”
“Focus, Top? I am.” I snip in frustration as her friend hugs her from the side, pushing her breasts together. I swallow hard, trying my best to concentrate in the same breath as my defense. It's useless. Her body was made for sex. Made for me. Look at those fucking tits. She's mine. Sex... All the fucking time. Whenever I want. Just gotta get her alone.
“You're a mess,” Topper chuckles as he pulls yet another SOLO cup off the rack, lifting it to his lips
She lofts the ball, landing it in the front cup. Kill me now. Her tits move with her, bouncing as she celebrates with her sorority sister, blissfully unaware of the anguish she’s putting me through as well as the pressure of the hard-on in my jeans.
One of my frat brothers walks by, resting a hand on the small of her back. She looks over her shoulder; his gaze drifting from her cleavage to her eyes. She smiles brightly as he feeds her some bullshit line. “Time out!” I boom from across the table, pulling her attention back to me.
Top turns to face me, but I swerve around him, working my way to the other end as her doe eyes match mine, widening as they stare up at me. “You okay, Rafe?” She asks sweetly; her lashes flutter innocently, back slightly arched. The muscles in my body tighten as I hold back my primal urges to gawk. I scrunch my nose and suck my teeth in annoyance. “Rafe?”
“Uh yeah,” I breathe as I lean in a little closer. “You gotta stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Sure,” I sneer. “You have any clue how distracting you are? It's driving me insane.” She nibbles at her plump bottom lip, biting back a smile. “Wait… You do? Don't you?”
“M’sorry,” she sighs in a pouty voice, not a single ounce of actually “sorry” in her sorry.
“After we win, you're comin’ with me.”
“To do what?” She giggles as she steps a little closer.
“Like you don't know,” I chuckle breathily. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson. Nobody teases me. And, I don't fuckin’ lose.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, challenging me with her gaze.
“Looks like you're about to lose, Rafey,” she taunts as she nods to the table.
“Easy, princess-”
“Hey, uhh, we good?” Topper cuts in.
“Yeah, Top. We're great,” I smile, never losing eye contact with her. My frat brother walks by again, surveying the scene, giving me the perfect opportunity to stake my claim. I clear the void, pulling her lips to mine. Fuck, she’s sweet. She grabs my shirt, twisting it in her fingers, pulling me even closer. Her boobs press against my chest; the feeling alone making me want to end it all. “You're mine when we're done. Clear?” I mumble against her lips, making her smile again.
“You're cocky,” she breathes.
“M’cocky now. Huh?”
“I love it,” she sighs.
“Mmm… mine. You're mine. A’ight?”
I guide her back to her side before walking away. Rubbing a shit-eating grin off my lips, I do my best to get my head back in the game. I'm having her regardless… This is just foreplay for me.
She smiles at me from across the table, gloss-lipped and stunning, her hair freshly tossed to the side. Her cheeks blush as I give her a little wink. And, just like that, the tables have turned. She wets her ball, flicking off the water, aiming as her tongue pokes out in concentration. She hurls it too far, hitting me in the thigh, making me wince in fake pain. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, her already pink cheeks reddening further.
I lift my finger, tapping on my temple. “I'm in your head,” I mouth through a smile. She shakes her head ‘no’, crossing her arms across her chest. Fuck me. Her tits practically spill out of the top of her little party dress, an obscene amount of cleavage, derailing my focus yet again. Her eyes fall, trailing my fixation, landing on her breasts as well, making me swallow hard. Her lashes flick to mine, fully aware of just what part of her was truly that distracting that I had to pause the game.
“Am I’m in yours, Rafey?” She mouths in retort as she drops her hands, resting her palms against the table, leaning in as her eyes stay zeroed in on mine.
“Holy shit,” Topper mumbles, falling victim to her tactics as well.
“For fuck sake, Top-”
“Can you focus,” he finishes my sentence; roles reversed. “Yeah… Yeah. Have fun with her, buddy.”
++++++++
“Goddamn, baby,” I groan as I cup as much of her tits as I can get in my hands, squeezing them tight. She reaches down, looping her tiny fingers around the string of her thong. “Stop,” I smile. This round’s about me. It ain't about you. You lost. I won… I get my prize, and I'm fuckin’ your tits.”
“Rafe-”
“Shut up,” I chuckle teasingly. “Shut. Up. This is a lesson. A’ight. M’teaching you a lesson. And, later, when I got you cryin’ and whinin’ for my dick,” I groan as I draw my boxer off my body. “I might let you bounce on it.”
“Rafey, please…”
“Nobody teases me, y/n,” I smile as I tuck some hair behind her ear.
My lips lock with hers as I lift her off her feet and into my arms, gripping her round ass in my hands, feeling as she grinds her needy pussy into me. The soaked material wets my warm skin, teasing me further.
Tits now… Pussy later.
🩷 Y/N’s POV:
Rafe tosses you down onto the bed, boobs bouncing on impact as he licks his lips hungrily. “M’so wet, Rafe. Please,” you whimper as your fingers wrap around his rock-hard cock, tracing all nine inches to his fat head. His ab muscles flex tightly as you run your finger across his tip, collecting his precum before bringing it between your lips.
“Trust me,” Rafe smiles as he reaches over to his nightstand, snagging out some lube, “I felt that pussy, princess. You're a mess. Shame you were such a cock-tease. Hmm? Teasin’ me with these-” Rafe’s massive hands palm your tits, pushing them together before gliding his ruddy cock in between. His eyes roll back in his skull, practically growling at the sensation. Rafe sits down on top of you, crushing you with his weight. He lets out a sigh of relief, like that's all he wanted.
His parted lips curl into a smile as he watches you crank your neck, tongue snaking around his swollen cock head. “Fuck. You’re a little slut, f’me. Aren't you?”
“I am, Rafe. Holy shit,” you whimper as you cup your tits, pressing them together for him.
"You look so good... Oh my god," he moans as he draws out, quickly pushing himself back in. "Perfect tits. Fuck, baby girl," Rafe hails as he starts to roll his body; his aching tip popping through your cleavage each time, glistening with lube.
"You're so big," you whisper, making a smirk play on his parted lips. "I could make you feel so good.”
“Got no doubt about that,” he rasps, thrusting into you at the perfect pace, making you envious of your own boobs.
"Fuck, Rafe!" You whine as he gives you a show, his long cock gliding in and out again and again, making your cunt throb.
"You're gonna bounce on me later. Yeah? Grind you pretty little pussy while I suck on your tits." He slaps your breast, making you squeal.
"Y-Yes, daddy," you stammer. He smacks your other tit making your pussy clench around nothing as he continues to stroke.
Your thighs squeeze together, the visual stimulation enough to get you there as you watch Rafe use your body like a toy. You feel heat growing in your stomach as your thighs begin to shake.
He snatches your wrist, forcing it lower. “Play with your pussy, baby. I know you wanna.” You drop your legs to the mattress, splaying your thighs as you push your panties to the side; fingers rolling on your clit, making you moan. You grip your tit with one hand, Rafe clutching the other as he picks up speed, your body embarrassingly close to cumming already.
Rafe’s other hand comes around your throat squeezing tightly, making your eyes widen, sending you over the edge. "Oh fuck, Rafe!" You cry out, pussy fluttering wildly.
"Jesus.” He lets out a wicked laugh. “All from watching me. Huh? That’s some whore shit right there. Fuck. You look even prettier when you cum," he moans as his thrusts get messy. “Open your mouth, slut. Swallow it all. Yeah?”
You flatten your tongue as Rafe rises up on his knees, towering over you as he fists his cock fast. His eyes strain to stay open as he cums on your breasts and neck, your chin, up to your open mouth. You swallow what you're given, running your middle finger along your chin as Rafe tries to steady his breathing, sucking your digit clean, making him smile.
He grips your boobs in his large hands again, swirling his tongue on your soft skin, circling your nipples, licking a line through your cleavage, cleaning his mess before spitting it in your mouth. You swallow again as his beautiful blue eyes stare into yours. Rafe kisses you deeply, tongue reeling; the sweetness of his lips paired with his salty cum.
Rafe rolls you on top of him, rough fingers trailing down your spine as a smile stretches on his lips. “Lesson learned, princess?” He mumbles between kisses.
“No…” You sigh before sucking off his bottom lip nice and slow.
“No?” He chuckles.
“Guess you're just gonna have to try again.”
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Just Friends, Chapter One:
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: E (18+ ONLY, mutual pining, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 34), angst??, masturbation (m))
wc: 2k
joel masterlist | series masterlist
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Joel feels weak when he sees you.
That’s the best word for it. Weak. A complete lack of control—of power. Logic and reason are nothing but incoherent mumbles in the background every time you’re in the same room as him, even worse when you look into his eyes and speak his name.
He hadn’t felt this sort of tug towards someone in years, and the unfamiliar sensation of needing to simply see you at least once a day in order to function properly was beginning to consume him. He didn’t know what to do to rid himself of this infatuation, avoiding you was impossible and so was getting closer thanks to that 30-something year old patrol ranger you called your boyfriend.
He watched the two of you together as though it was his job. He watched the way you seemed to keep him at an arm’s length when the two of you were out together, always sandwiching yourself between your friends rather than beside the man you were supposed to love.
He couldn’t help but wonder what the two of you were like in private.
It couldn’t be a very passionate affair, that much he knew. Real passion wasn’t so easily concealed. It was consuming, drawing you like a magnet to your partner, burrowing beneath your skin, creating an itch to be near them—to be touching them. It couldn’t be an affair of passion.
Just now, he’s sat in his usual seat in the corner of the bar, his back pressing to the padded walls of the booth, his hand holding a crystal glass filled with whiskey, his brows drawn together, his eyes locked on the back of your head as you ordered a drink, your friend next to you. Joel wants to stand up, walk over, and offer to buy your drink right in front of him just to see the look on your face.
Would you tell him to fuck off? Or would you say yes?
The laugh you let out in response to something your boyfriend whispers into your ear stops Joel from finding out.
“God, I need a drink,” Ellie sighs as she emerges from nowhere, her backpack being shrugged onto the floor as she sits down across from Joel.
“Tough day learnin’ your ABC’s?” he quips, his tone still flat from the war jealousy was waging inside of his head.
“Ha-ha,” she replies, just as dry. She knocks her knuckles on the wooden table as she watches his eyes drift back to you, now seated at a table just five or so feet away from him—too close for his comfort. Downing his drink, he shifts his eyes back to Ellie in time to catch her chuckling at him.
“What?” he asks, tilting his head at her as though he were begging her not to read him as easily as she does.
“Nothing,” she shakes her head and laughs again before reaching over the table to swig the finger of whiskey left inside Joel’s glass.
“Hey,” he calls as he catches her mid sip, stealing the glass back. “They got rules about kids drinkin’, you know that. You itchin’ for another lecture from Maria about followin’ the rules?”
“No,” she replies. “It’s a bullshit rule anyway.”
“No, it ain’t,” he sighs as your laughter fills the room again, his chest panging causing him to physically wince. “I’m ready to go home. You comin’ or you stayin’?”
“Staying,” she says, grabbing her backpack and setting it on the table. “Have homework to finish and your sad country music being blared through the house isn’t going to help keep me focused.”
“Don’t disrespect my sad country music,” he warned playfully as he stood up with a grunt, finishing the little whiskey left in his glass in one gulp. “I’ll see ya back at home by curfew.”
“About that…” Ellie looked up at Joel with a hopeful smile. “Dina invited me over to spend the night—“
“Dina can spend the night at ours,” he argued, that protective streak of his making it’s usual appearance.
“Dina and I don’t wanna watch you drink and sing along to George Jones, dude,” she replied, frowning up at him until he broke.
“Fine. But you’re back in time for breakfast tomorrow.” Ellie grinned as she nodded at him, his eyes rolling and a chuckle escaping his chest. “Spoiled.”
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As Joel starts to make his exit, he stops at the bar to deliver his empty glass and pay off his bill. That’s where you find him.
“Hey,” you start, hoping to conceal your deeply hidden crush on the older man with friendliness. Joel’s head turns to you so quickly you swear you hear his neck crack, his unreadable eyes locking on yours as though you were some sort of apparition he was almost certain wasn’t actually there. “I just wanted to come over. Say hi.”
“Hi,” he replies, choked and unprepared. Clearing his throat, he tips his head towards your table. “I saw you were with your friends, otherwise I would’a came over and said somethin’.”
“You can always come over and say something,” you assure, fighting the urge to bat your eyes at him as you give him a smile. The man whose coat you’re wearing lingers in the back of your mind as you stare at the man you’ve wanted since he arrived.
“How’s the new fence treatin’ ya?” he asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he leans a shoulder onto the bar and faces you. You think back to the weekend he spent building your white picket fence last month, free of charge. The way his arms looked in a t-shirt as he sawed away at the wood still makes you dizzy.
“Well, it’s still upright so…you must’ve done a good enough job on it,” you offer with a smirk, earning the slightest of chuckles. You always wondered why everyone seemed to think he didn’t have a sense of humor, he seemed to find you funny enough. “I, uh, also came over to invite you over to my place tomorrow evening.”
You watch as Joel’s brow lifts with interest.
“Oh yeah? You throwin’ a party or somethin’?” he asks.
“My birthday,” you shrug. “Figured I’ve gone twenty years without celebrating it, might as well.”
“That’s what this place is supposed to be about,” he says. “Doin’ normal things again.”
“Exactly,” you smile, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he mimicks it. “So, can I count you in?”
“Long as you got somethin’ to drink.” You laugh and nod in reassurance. “Well, I’m in, then.”
“Alright, I’ll let you escape before someone else comes up and tries to talk to you,” you offer, reaching your hand over to touch his arm. Joel looks down at the contact before meeting your eyes again, something unreadable lingering in his dark irises that makes you flustered enough to pull your hand away. “I’ll see you.”
“See ya,” he replies, quiet as he taps the counter with his knuckles before turning and walking off. Your eyes couldn’t help but lower to his fist as it hung by his side, clenching and unclenching. With a subtle but deep breath, you turn around and walk back to your table—back to your boyfriend and all of his perfection that bores you beyond belief.
“Why did you go up to him?” Josie, a friend of yours, asks as you return to your spot at the table and reach for your beer to wash down the lingering desire.
“I invited him to my party,” you replied, shrugging as you gave her a confused look. “What?”
“Babe,” your boyfriend, Will, chuckles. “He’s…old.”
“And an ass,” Josie adds. You roll your eyes at them, knowing that neither of them ever had a real conversation with Joel, making their opinion of him mute. “Did he say yes?”
“Yes,” you chuckle, amused by the shock on their faces. “We’re friends!”
“Since when?” Josie asks with a hearty laugh.
“Since always,” you reply with a shrug before continuing, “I helped show him around when he got here since I’m right across the street.” Josie looks to Will and then Will looks to you, a look of amused confusion on his handsome face. “He’s a nice guy when you get to know him.”
“Maybe, but he’s also old enough to be our father,” Will argues. You roll your eyes at the reality of the age gap between you and your secret crush, twenty-two years to be exact.
“There are only so many people our age in Jackson, honey,” you say, irritation thick in your tone. “And besides, just because he’s older means I shouldn’t be friendly to him? We’re just gonna start shunning every person in Jackson above what, fifty?”
“You know what,” Will starts, reaching his hand over to rub your back, his warm touch only making you feel colder. “You’re right. We’ll be friendly to him too. Okay?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, lifting your beer up to your lips, wishing more than anything that the man touching you was someone else.
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Joel’s in bed, his drunk thoughts centering around you. Around the way you smiled up at him as though you had no clue that his heart was beating out of his chest. Maybe you didn’t, but how could you not notice his sweaty palms, the nervous twitch of his lips when you forced a smile onto his face?
He was sure he was going to lose it completely when your hand came to rest on his arm. He wanted to run and at the same time wanted to get closer, to feel you too. But, the falter in your smile once his eyes met yours and your hand leaving his arm so abruptly it hurt grounded him back to reality. The one in which you were a taken woman and he was a man twenty years older.
It makes him feel sick when he tries not to think about you, so he doesn’t bother as he reaches his hand over his briefs and grips his swelling girth in an attempt to soothe the throbbing ache there. He grunts as he strokes himself through the fabric, just enough to build himself up slowly.
He thinks of you. He thinks of that weekend he built your fence. He thinks about the way you looked in the sun, the green grass beneath you as you sat out on the lawn and kept him company. He thinks about your legs, bare in the summer heat, your denim shorts cut short enough to make him turn red when you rolled over to lay on your stomach.
As he rubbed his thumb over the now weeping head of his cock, he imagined what it would be like to take those shorts off of you. To lay claim to what lies underneath. He moans as he imagines the sounds he’d pull from you.
Pulling his briefs down enough that his cock was springing free, he licks his hand and grips himself at the base, another choked moan slipping free as his fist glides up and then down again, over and over.
He wonders what you’re like in bed, how you like it, if you’d let him take control or demand it for yourself. It didn’t really matter, he remembers, not when he’d never have the chance of finding out.
When he cums, he groans, his fist stroking up and down, gathering his spend to help ease the glide of his hand until he’s finally had his fill. With a sigh, he lets his head fall back against his pillow, his eyes on the ceiling fan spinning above him.
“Get a fuckin’ grip,” he curses himself.
It doesn’t work.
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princessbrunette · 2 months
Note
i'm thinkin heavily on our rival jayj n rafe au where the kook has dragged you to some rager of a party at another sprawling mansion n just maybe you drank a little more than used to - or even pressured into a few pills you don't know the name of n rafe is coked out somewhere. obvi gonna call jayj to the rescue, havin him search the grounds of this place n dodging random chicks til he finds you hazy eyed n confused in some corner - 🍓
✧˖°.🩷✧˖°.
you don’t remember having texted jj, because it’s a pleasant surprise when you see him — somewhere in the back of your mind questioning why on earth he’d be at a party like this.
rafe had dragged you here, and briskly disappeared into the night as business called to him, surrounded at a coffee table by rich folks with the urge to vacuum powder up their noses. rafe needed the money, even having complained about this ‘barry’ character on the way to the party — hence why he was just so eager to ditch you to make some. you clutch your arms in the corner, feeling simultaneously cold and boiling hot. you don’t remember what you’ve ingested, if anything at all — maybe you just took a red solo cup of alcohol to the head too many — but you were certainly feeling it, whatever it was.
your vision of jj prying a drunk girl who had thrown herself towards him off his torso with a wince, distorts suddenly to the blonde squatting right infront of you, and you blink a few times before you realise you’re not just watching him through a lens, and that he was infact looking right back at you.
“jayj, what are you doin’ here?” you smile, eyes soft and full of fondness — that’s how you feel anyway, to him you look totally out of it as you shiver in an abandoned corner.
“i’m uh— i’m here for you cupcake. texted me, remember?” his eyes dart up and down you, trying to suss out what sort of state you were in. your glossy pout presses together in a blissed out smile and you shake your head slowly, displaying zero recollection. “alright well, i’m gettin’ your lil ass out of here.”
you’re walking suddenly, no — not quite, being guided with a firm hand on your waist. jj is driving you through crowds of people, his voice is clear, the blonde in the cap confidently barking out commands to make way.
“kook princess comin’ through. valuable cargo. beep beep, thank you.”
his familiar goofiness sends you into a spell of giggles as you arrived on the lawn, jj allowing you to drop to sit on the step on the quiet porch. he’s wearing a zip up hoodie, but it quickly ends up around your shoulders as you sniffle happily at the night sky, turning your cheek to gaze your hazy eyes into his own.
“you look after me, jayj.” you observe obviously and he blinks, shrugging a shoulder and shuffling on his ass as he gets situated beside you.
“think i’m just gonna leave a lady in distress when she texts me to come get her? hell nah. kie told me that’s like, fuckin’… bad karma or whatever.” he chats, looking you over once more as he watches your body rise and fall with slow breaths. “what’d you take?”
“dont remember. jus’ remember rafe leavin’.” you hum, detached.
“babe, he’s — he is a total asshole. why the hell do you hang with him? enlighten me. i’m beggin’ for some clarity here.”
you turn and look at him again, really look at him this time like it’s the first time you’re seeing him. your voice is detached and yet totally present at the same time, the harrowing realisation of your evening weighing down on you.
“i… dont know, jj.” after a pause he breaks the silence, not wanting to throw you into a bad mindset— he was everyone’s favourite trip-sitter after all.
“s’alright, sunshine. you were lead astray tonight. it happens. lucky for you, your ol’ pal jj is here to save the day.” he chuckles uneasily, craning his neck round to look back at the house party in motion. where could he find a bottle of water to feed you?
“you’re more than a pal, jj.” you sigh and his head snaps towards you.
“y— say uh— say that again, sugar?” he frowns, needing to be sure he heard that correctly. in an instant, you’re distracted by a stain on your skirt and you tsk, tugging at the material.
“ohh, what happened?” you whine, rubbing at the muddy splatter on your clothes. he’ll pocket that comment for another time.
✧˖°.🩷✧˖°.
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vivian-pascal · 2 months
Text
When you call my name, I won't answer
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stranger!joel x f!reader
summary: After a series of downfalls in your life, you meet a very mysterious man at a bar one night, you two seem to get along just fine.
warnings: piv (wrap it up) dirty talk joel, oral f!receiving, kissing, sexual tension, aftercare, fluff
authors note: hi folks! this is the 100 followers special, it's pretty short but i hope you enjoy it! i can't thank you all enough, this means a whole lot to me!
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On a cool, winters eve, you were sat at a bar drinking your usual cocktail. This is how you spent most nights, drinking, sleeping, drinking, sleeping and repeat. You'd been off the hook for a couple of months now and couldn't register what else to do with your life.
Your family abandoned you, you got fired from the only job you had, your three months past rent and can't afford to pay it, so what else is there than to drink all your worries away?
You've gone to this bar for many weeks. Even getting acquainted with the workers. They've considered you as a usual person here and even made the drink you first ordered a special on the menu.
You ordered your usual drink and sat in the same spot you always do. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary but you did sense someone's eyes on you. When you looked to your right, you saw some older folks sitting down in a booth, they surely weren't looking at you. When you look to your left however, there is an older man sat on a bar stool just a couple down from yours.
He had broad shoulders, salt and pepper hair, soft gruff growing around his face. His big, veiny hand held onto what you assumed was a glass of whiskey. He looked back at you and you quickly turned your head as to not seem you were staring.
The older man turns to you, his eyes clouded in thought. "You remind me of someone." You turn your head and look his way. "Oh yeah, and who might that be?" You quirk an eyebrow as you take another sip of your drink.
He slowly takes a deep breath in and picks up his glass. "Oh you know, just someone in a past life." He smirks at you and nods to the bartender to refill his drink.
You decide to inspect him more. He has a rugged and weathered appearance, his face is lined with only a certain amount of wrinkles, each telling a story of their own. His hair speckled gray, you could see he was quite strong with the way his shoulders were, broad and firm. There was a sense of mystery with this man, like there's something he isn't sharing yet.
His hands are rough and calloused from years of hard work. His voice a deep and resonant with a gravelly quality that adds to his charm and charisma. He wore a faded flannel with jeans, you could tell he was a simple man, adorned to his own sense of fashion.
When he turned back to look at you, he could tell you were checking him out. "What's your name?" You bring your eyes up to his and told him. He smiles at the sweet sound and repeats your name off his tongue. "That's a lovely name darlin'." You smile shyly and pull a hair behind your ear and ask him his. "M'names Joel."
You nod your head and begin to look around. You notice that he moved his stool closer to yours and you begin to squeeze your thighs together.
You both talk for a while, about work, past lovers, how you got fired. You like taking with Joel. He has this easiness that would allow you to say whatever you wanted and he would just listen. He would respond perfectly and laugh at your sarcastic jokes. He was an easy going man, and you were feral for him.
Time had past and you could feel the tension growing. Sometimes he would put his hand on your thighs or get very close to your face, like he wanted to kiss you.
"My daughter Sarah is comin home soon." He brings his glass to his lips and takes a drink. "Oh that's nice! Where is she now?" He puts his glass down and twirls his finger along the rim. "She's in college down south, been studyin abroad, wantin to become something in the medical field." You bring your purse up from your side and set it on the counter in front of you. "That's great, you must be very proud of her Joel." His face pulls into a sweet smile as he thinks of his little girl.
You open your purse and pull out your wallet. His hand quickly joins yours and you look him in the eyes. "That's fine, i'll pay." He smiles as he reaches for his leather wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. "Oh no, really, it's fine, i can pay." You call the bartender over and as your about to pay you get interrupted.
Joel manages to grab the bartender's attention first and hands him his card. He tells his to pay for your tab too and adds an extra tip. "You really didn't have to do that you know." He sits back on his stool as he downs the rest of his drink. "No, I didn't, but i did." He smirks as you roll your eyes.
The bartender returns with Joel's card and he puts it back in his wallet. You both stand up and begin to walk to the exit.
"You gotta ride?" He looks down at you and you shake your head no. "I walked here." He pauses and looks ahead. "You walked here all by yourself?" His southern drawl picks up more and you shiver at his voice. You nod your head as you near the parking lot. "Well I could give ya a ride, I ain't gonna let you walk back home alone now, who knows what happens to pretty girls like you around this hour." Your heart flutters at the thought that he called you pretty.
He gets to his truck and opens the passenger side door. "Hop in." You smile as you slowly climb into the truck. He shuts your door and walks back around to his side. He jumps in and starts the engine.
"Thank you Joel, this means a lot." He smiles softly and brings his hand to your face. His thumb strokes your cheek and rests his palm there.
"It's okay sweetheart, no need to worry. M'just helpin a doll out." He gives you a sly look as you close your thighs together and blush. A few minutes into the drive, you could feel the tension growing. His hand was resting on your thigh and would occasionally rise up to your waist.
"Oh, I didn't tell you my address sorry, it's-" He cuts you off with a pat on your leg. "That's alright darlin, we're goin to my place, if that's okay with you." You stare at him for a bit before nodding.
Once you two pull into his driveway, he parks the car and exits his vehicle. He goes around to your side and opens the door. You give him a quick smile as he takes your hand and helps you out.
You both walk up to the door and he pulls out his keys. When he opens it, your instantly pushed up against the back of the door as it closes. His lips crash onto yours and you moan at the kiss.
"I've been waitin to do this all night baby." He begins to pick you up and carry you upstairs. He throws you down onto the bed and you giggle at the fall.
He crawls up your body and up to your face. "How bout we loose the clothing yeah?" You nod your head as you frantically begin ripping off your shirt. His eyes immediately go to your breasts. Your bra isn't the best fit and they could easily fall out.
He reaches behind you and unclasps it. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts. He removes his shirt and throws it to the ground along with your clothes. He begins to slowly move down your body and in between your legs. He teasingly opens the buttons of your jeans and carefully pulls down the zipper.
You lift your hips in attempts to help him get them off. He grabs onto the top of your pants and forcefully pulls them off of you. He makes eye contact with your soaked panties and moans at the sight, He brings his middle finger up to your wet center and presses in firmly against the fabric. You grab onto the sheets at the sudden attention and arch your back.
He stops his movements for just a second as he removes your underwear. He has to stop himself from coming right then and there at the sight before him. "God baby, she's dripping for me."You moan at his remark and grab onto his hair.
He positions your legs over his shoulders as he begins to get to work. "Joel." You whine at the contact of his tongue seething into your weeping hole. He begins to lap at your arousal and you pull onto his hair roughly.
He begins to flick his tongue on your clit and you moan aloud as he speeds up. He shakes his head side to side and you arch your back further. He brings his hands to your thighs and pushes you down to keep you steady. His tongue goes back to your hole and submerges inside. His nose occasionally bumps your clit and that sends you wailing.
Your orgasm comes up quick and you pull his hair even tighter as he digs his nails into your thighs. The movements of his mouth begin to increase when he feels your body shake. You moan and whine his name as it washes over you. He drinks up all your juices as you rest your head back against your pillow.
He crawls over you and kisses your lips. You can taste the tangy flavor of your orgasms as he invades your mouth with his tongue.
"Ya ready f'me baby?" He begins to grind his erections against your soaked center and you moan at the friction. "Please Joel. I need you." He growls into your neck as he removes his pants and boxers. He lines his cock with your pussy and begins to rub his tip against your clit.
You just know he's big. You can feel the size of him just from his thrusts. He lines his cock with your hole and begins to seethe himself inside of you. Your mouth falls open as he inserts himself all the way in. He stays still for a moment and you wonder if something is wrong. "Joel please move." You grab onto his hair and pull him down for a kiss. "I know baby girl, just hold on for a minute." He rests his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Joel please just-" He begins to thrust into your soaking pussy at an exhilarating pace. The tip of his cock just hits your cervix and it sends you screaming. He grunts as he hears your pretty little sounds you make for him.
"Oh god Joel." You arch your back and open your mouth in a silent plea of how much pleasure you are feeling in this moment. "I know baby I know, I hear ya, taking it so well f'me." He brings his lips to yours and instantly speeds up.
His hips are thrusting at a pace you can't seem to keep up with and he groans when he feels you squeeze around him. Your heart rate picks up when you feel another orgasm begin to brim. He brings his hand to the bottom of your stomach and pushes down. You loudly moan when you feel this new sensation.
"God, I can feel myself all up in your fucking stomach." He growls and bites your neck as your orgasm begins to break. "Joel, I'm coming." You barely manage to get the words out as your vision goes white. The amount of pleasure has you rolling your eyes back and arching off the bed. He speeds up as his orgasm nears.
"Oh fuck baby, so goddamn tight." He bites down onto your shoulder as he spills his cum inside you. You walls become surrounded with a warm, sticky mess. His hips come to a stutter as his orgasm subsides. He instantly falls on top of you and closes his eyes.
He rolls over and begins to get out of bed. He grabs his boxers and puts them on. He walks out of the room and goes into the bathroom, he returns to you with a warm wash cloth and some water.
He opens your thighs and you wince at the soreness. He puts the cloth up to your pussy and slowly begins to wipe it down. He sets the water onto the bed and throws the towel into his hamper. He crawls back into bed and you huddle up to him.
"How ya feeling?" He gently stokes the top of your head as you breath in his scent. ''Fucking fantastic. " He chuckles at your remark and kisses the top of your head. "Goodnight darlin." He holds you closer as you wrap your arms around his middle. "Night Joel."
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tags!!
@iamsherlocked-1998 @pinkcrystal44 @heartpascalispunk  @heartramen  @tupelomiss  @simplewanderer @ursagittariusgirlfriend  @amyispxnk @livingonthehems
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my--moon · 3 months
Note
hello!! i saw that your requests were open and I just love the way you write!! i was wondering if you’d be willing to do a Leo Valdez x fem!reader? just something like Piper was trying to play matchmaker between the two, but they’re already in a relationship and she just doesn’t know?? no pressure tho!! All my love to you, honey 😘😘😘
❝ Matchmaking! Whoops... ❞
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Pairing; Leo Valdez X Fem!Reader (Child of Demeter) Warning; Curse words, mentions of sickles (the weapon) implied smut, make out, getting caught, I think that's it tbh. (N/N) = Nickname A/N; Aunty Juno has taken your order! One fanfic comin' right up, sweetie!
Total badass. Pretty hair. User of Demeter's sickles. Has literally cut the throat of a monster for laying a finger on her friends.
Ugh, what didn't (Y/N) have?
A boyfriend!
Actually, nobody knew about (Y/N)'s love life. So, Piper assumed that she was single. And no person that hot should be single. (Unless you're on the ace/aro spectrum, then be single and rich if you want, babes)
Piper Mclean set out on a mission to get (Y/N) with someone. And who better than that be but with Valdez?
You see, Leo was flirty. And (Y/N) didn't react to flirts or acts of seduction. Making her nearly impossible for Piper or any of her siblings to charm. But Leo, however, got her to giggle.
The short Latino got the badass child of the earth to giggle with a flirt. Oh. My. Gods.
When Piper saw this, her jaw dropped. She immediately made it her job to get those two together.
She explained the plan to Annabeth and Hazel, Annabeth agreed that they would be compatible. Hazel however was just snickering to herself the entire time. Like she knew something.
It was a foolproof plan! Make them get as close to each other as possible. And then make them talk. Piper was confident in her plan. So she put it too work.
She made the two pair up during any quests, made them sit by each other whenever she could. She also might've on purposely broke one of (Y/N)'s sickles to make her ask Leo for help.
Annabeth and Hazel whispered to each other: “Should we tell her..?”
“No, let her live in her delusions for a second before they tell her.” The Pluto daughter replied. The two girls nodded and watched carefully at the scene of Piper planning out how to get the two together.
“Where could they be?” Piper muttered to herself.
After a quest, (Y/N) and Leo and been missing for an hour or so. The pair had just... Disappeared.
The steps of Piper's boots echoed throughout the halls, an occasional noise from the outside world hummed through the cracks.
Then there was a small thump. Like a thump against a door. Like something accidentally bumped into it.
Piper perked up at the noise. “Hm?” She hummed inquisitively. She slowly walked up to the door, and reached for the handle.
Just before she grabbed the doorknob, she heard a whisper of 'shhh' and 'hold still'. What in Hades name?
The child of Aphrodite was curious no doubt. So she did what anyone would do!
The door flung wide open. Piper's jaw dropped.
The sight was of Leo and (Y/N). Leo's hand holding her thigh up with a strong grip, (Y/N)'s arms loosely wrapped around his neck. His top two buttons undone, and her high waisted jeans resting at her hips.
Leo's face was covered in glossy kiss marks and (Y/N)'s head was tilted back for her neck to be reached better. The two stared back at Piper with wide eyes.
“Hi.” (Y/N) broke the silence.
Piper didn't respond, just stared back at them with bulging eyes and a opened mouth. “...Hi..?”
Leo's expression was the same as (Y/N)'s. Deer caught in headlights eyes and mouth closed tight. He grabbed the doorknob from Piper and shut the door on Piper's face.
The door shut tight and the lock was heard clicking in place.
Piper was flabbergasted. She didn't process it all in the moment, so when she did—her ability to talk finally came back and she gasped.
“Wait, hold on! You've hooking up and none of you told me?!” She said, banging back on the door.
The couple in the closet said perfectly silent and perfectly still. Neither of them threatened to breathe.
Piper gave up trying to get them out of the locked closet and raced over to Annabeth's room.
Annabeth opened the door and Hazel was lying on her bed while Percy was sitting on a beanbag by her desk. “Hey, what's up?”
Piper walked in and closed the door behind her. “Okay, I usually don't gossip around people who aren't apart of the girls—”
Percy shrugged, before grabbing a jacket and placing it on his head. “Pretend I'm a girl.” He said, which made Hazel giggle and Annabeth roll her eyes.
Piper chuckled before speaking again. “Okay, you will NOT believe what I just saw.”
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yeeterthek33per · 3 months
Text
Surprise (Katrina Gorry x Reader)
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A/n Jeez sorry guys, welcome back to me ay? Anyways, here's the first of many requests, I'm getting back into it, I swear.
Requested.
Warnings/summary: Fluff. Harper Gorry. Itty Bitty Bit suggestive at the end.
You swear, your arms feel like they might pop any second.
It would make sense if you were doing a workout, but it turns out dragging around a 15kg toddler all day is basically the same thing.
With your wife Katrina running around to do assigned media duties before the game tomorrow, you'd been left in charge of little Harper before her family came to get her for the night so you both could get an adequate amount of sleep for once.
There's a little squeal as you swing the small blonde girl up into onto your hip when she tries to make a break for the open doorway that leads onto the pavement outside.
"Mama noooo!"
"Mama yes! No running off like that baby. We stay together while we go out. You know that."
The small pout from her lips reminds you very much of her other mother as you tickle her slightly to elicit a small giggle.
"We goin to get ice cweem?"
You chuckle softly, running your fingers through her blonde locks.
"Yeah, we're getting some ice cream after we have a little walk alright?"
"Chacha coming?"
"Yes Hun, Chacha’s comin', we just gotta wait for her to come down so we can go."
Harper seemingly accepts that, leaning back fully into your hold to sit and play with the small silver necklace you have on, with your wife's and Harper's initials as the pendants.
It takes a very long five minutes as Charlie finally gets off the elevator ready to go, the little blonde in your arms getting much more fidgety as you stand and wait.
"Chacha!"
"Took you long enough, come on!"
She rolls her eyes before turning to the tiny girl you're holding and snatches her up to ride on her shoulders, your biceps screaming in relief finally.
Any other day of the week, you'd be used to it but after the intense gym session the day before, you weren't sure your arms wouldn't have fallen off by the end of today without your younger compatriot to take the younger version of herself off your hands.
The groan of relief you let out as she does so, has her laughing.
"Stop complaining, she's your kid, you should be used to this by now."
"Hush you, gym sessions and wandering toddlers don't mix, now let's go before we run out of time."
"Why are we out here again? It's supposed to be rest day today."
The bright, sunny warmth of the day is nothing compared to the day previous, leaving you feeling a little relieved at not having to deal with 27 odd degree temperatures and an impatient two-year-old.
"We're out here because I need one more thing for tomorrow and I just needed someone to give me an excuse to leave the hotel.
"Why do you need my help? You've known Mini longer. You're literally married to her."
"I know but it's our first game together as a married couple and I want it to be super special for her."
"Alright alright, so what are we picking out again?"
"It's a surprise for the game. I asked the uniformers if I could tweak my jersey a little."
"Okay? What does that have to do with- wait..."
She pauses a little, her hand coming up and making the stop motion.
"You're changing it to Gorry?"
Her eyes water a little as a massive grin stretches across your face with a chuckle and you nod.
Charlie bounces a little in excitement, the squeal she lets out startling the child on her shoulders.
"Is this an official name change?"
You hum in the affirmative, steadying the blonde as she bounces into you, careful not to let Harper fall from her perch.
"It's been a thought for a long while, we talked about it, but we never confirmed whether or not I'd change my name. She definitely wants to keep Gorry, though."
"So why are we going shopping then?"
"Because I'm going out to pick up a preorder I made a couple weeks ago, it was supposed to be a wedding gift when we got married here but they couldn’t get it finished in time so I settled for the specialised necklaces and just made these the World Cup gift instead."
"So, what's the preorder then?"
"You'll see. Wait here"
You playfully wink and duck into the jewellery store to your left, right as she asks the question.
Returning just a few minutes later, bag in hand.
"Alright, let's go."
Charlie looks at you expectantly.
"You're not gonna show me?"
"Later. Harps, what do you say sweety, ice cream time?"
The toddler jumps up and down in her spot upon the older girl’s shoulders.
"Yes pleeeeease!"
Humming in contentment, you drag her down the street to a cold rock ice creamery, much to the protest of the twenty-two-year-old.
-------------------
A loud grumble from the blonde laid across your bed makes you glance up from your spot at the desk with a chuckle.
"At least one little peak, come on Y/n/n. Pleeeeease? You dragged me all the way out to go get it. It's the least you could do."
You'd swear she was in fact Harper's older sister with the way she was giving you the puppy dog eyes.
"You can't wait for tomorrow to see it? Like everyone else?"
"No".
She deadpans and perches herself onto the desk next to where you're signing out papers to send off to the registry that you got married under.
'Alright alright alright. Pass me the bag. I need to hide the box anyways."
There's a small smile as you open up the ring box again, and it reminds you heavily of the ring box Katrina had so smoothly removed from her satchel at the beach the day you'd gotten engaged.
The mid thickness silver band shines under the small white desk lamp, the curved engravings on the underside of it glimmering as you carefully hand it to the blonde who's expression melts at the sight of it.
The little inscription of "our kind of love is the best kind. - (Y)G" and the little football symbol on the bottom matches perfectly with the style of writing.
"It matches our wedding rings. I'll give it to her to her tomorrow after the game."
"She's gonna love it. I love it. God, can you get me one?"
Rolling your eyes at her, you chuckle softly as she slips the ring back into the box and you tuck it away into safe corner of the room until it's needed.
"I'll be sure to let Lachlan know."
She smiles softly at the mention of her boyfriend before a small inquizzacal look appears on her face.
"So, how's this gonna pan out without her noticing again?"
"Well...."
-------------------
Stepping down and off the bus, there's a nervousness in the air, not like the usual national games hold. You'd been to major tournaments before, hell you were in France for the 2019 world cup but there's nothing like the feeling you get now.
Walking into a home stadium, in your home uniform at a home world cup, and awaiting you is the eighty thousand strong crowd, the hopefully perfect condition pitch and your bouncing blonde toddler with her grandmother in the stands.
It's a feeling out of this world.
And it gets better knowing what's waiting for Katrina as well.
Not just a chance at redemption from the last World Cup.
Not just her sweet little harper, cheering and yelling for her mommy and her teammates the moment they step onto the pitch.
A hand on your shoulder jolts you a little, you'd paused in front of your cubby after hearing the ever so faint cheers of the crowd above the entrance to the player area.
"You alright?"
Your wife’s comforting hand gently squeezes your arm as you nod, giving her a reassuring smile.
“Feelin’ great, baby.”
Resting your hand on hers, you caress it with your thumb softly before gently nudging her back to her own cubby to get ready for pitch inspection.
Subtly making eye contact with the trainer across the room, you give him a nod as he slips away to grab the jersey, he’d made ready in time for the game.
Slipping on your training jersey, you duck out onto the pitch before warmups are due to start.
You end up making it quicker than usual in order to slip out to meet the trainer to grab your actual jersey which you leave in your cubby away from sight.
Waving to the already numerous fans in the stadium, you make your rounds of the pitch to get a proper feel of it, and when Sam spots herself on the big screen managing to sneak a selfie, you and your teammates are left chuckling.
Warmups go smoothly, and the atmosphere and tremendous crowd are both buzzing with enormous amounts of energy.
Breathing in the cool night air, your shots feel a little shaky in the leadup, but they quickly relax as you settle in amongst the encouragement and atsmosphere of your teammates.
Despite the devastation at finding out Sam won’t be playing for at least three games, the determination sets in hard and the moment you are all called back to the changerooms, a hardness sets about you and everything in your head calms in the moment, ready to get out there and play like it’s any other game, trying to ignore the already enormous amount of pressure on your shoulders.
Tony gives a quick speech before sending you all off to line up ready for the walkout.
The team are still in their training jackets when you walk out and it’s only when you slip off yours, and place it over the shoulders of the mascot in front of you after the national anthems, that she finally notices.
You’re number 24 while Katrina is number 19 so she isn’t directly next to you to see it, however a close up of your back on the big screen catches her attention when she realises it isn’t her number attached to the last name and she leans forward to catch your eye as you all move to huddle.
Winking at her, you smile and move stand next to her, arm slipping around her shoulders as Sam and Tony do the final send off.
The double take of a few of your teammates makes you laugh, and you press a kiss to your wife’s cheek with a small ‘Surprise.’ Spoken in her ear.
She grabs your face before you can go anywhere.
“Not so fast you.”
There’s a small hum of appreciation when she presses her lips to yours in a brief kiss and her eyes water a little up at you.
“I love you so much, Mrs L/n.”
“It’s Gorry now, baby.”
Her smile widens and right as you go to kiss her once more, a slap to the back startles you.
It’s a grinning Sam who urges you over to the rest of your waiting team who’ve been watching you both with amusement visibly plastered on all of their faces.
"Let’s do this, pretty girl."
With that, you feel more than ready to start this thing.
-------------------
The first thing you feel the moment you're off the bus is Katrina's hand dragging you back inside the hotel and up the stairs, far too impatient to wait for the elevator to come down.
The moment you're both up the six flights of stairs, despite the immense exhaustion you're both exhibiting after the battle against Ireland, there's a giddiness in both of your steps and she quickly drags you into your room with the swipe of your keycard.
The soft giggle that leaves your lips the moment you're pressed back against the door makes her grin and her hands slipping under the hem of your hoodie leave shivers behind as you think back to the look she'd given you from the left of you across the locker room.
Full of love and adoration and a little hint of desire as they move to the name across your back.
Mouthing those three words you know sends warmth to her chest every time she hears them, she mouths them back with a small grin.
371 notes · View notes
s3thwrit3sstuff · 3 months
Text
❝ Comin’ back for more? ❞
ghostface!leon kennedy x ftm!ghostface!reader | r! has had top surgery and bottom growth | porn with some plot | friends-with-benefits, implied attempt at a relationship (r! had commitment issues, lmao) | wc: 8k | not proofread
warnings: yandere!leon and yandere!reader, piquerism, carving his name into r! skin, blood kink, overstimulation, leon takes pictures and videos of r!, dumbification, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick), use of boypussy & boy cunt.
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“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”
Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.
“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.
“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”
authors' note: heed the warnings, leon and y/n are high-key deranged, lmao. also i wrote this in a rush but enjoy!!
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“Do you think he’s like…big?”
That alone was enough to make you rip your eyes away from your laptop. She chews on her glossy lip, twisting her phone to show you a Tinder profile of some douchebag that checks off everything on her list.
Awkwardly angled photos to show his jawline? Check.
Dimples? Check.
Two pairs of horrendous matching sweats? Check
A random photo of him holding some poor relative's baby to appeal to women? Check.
“Surprised he didn’t leap out from your brain,” your dry tone makes Ashley pout. “Honestly, be a little proud of me, (Y/N). He’s not holding a fish,” she turns the phone to herself. Pursing your lips, you return your attention to the report that’s been rotting in your laptop.
“Yeah, his sister is probably relieved her baby’s face is plastered on a hook-up app.” Ashley reaches over and smacks your hand. The yelp you let out turns a few heads; dark eyebags and caffeine-fueled veins already making them irritable. Exclamations of pain weren’t appreciated.
“You’re such a pessimist, (Y/N). I swear I have no idea how we ended up being friends.” An attempt was made at stifling your laughter but it tumbles out from between your fingers in quick intakes of breaths. The glaring turns into mumbling but none would speak up. Between Ashley’s status and your own, along with your golden reputation, no one could find themselves wishing ill upon the both of you.
Ashley was from a wealthy family. All you'd need to do is look at her to see she was dripped in luxury brands that were so exclusive you probably never heard of them. She met you through one of her mother's annual parties. It was an attempt on her end to play matchmaker with Ashley so she was quick to push Ashley and your sibling together.
Unfortunately for her, both you and your sibling were queer. Ashley was just glad to have real friends. How did the saying go? You win some, you lose some?
"You have your mother to thank for that. Remember how she was convinced you were a lesbian because we kept hanging out? Before I came out and everything." Ashley rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbow as she scrolled through the array of people with mild interest.
“Woah, what was that for?” Her lack of reply makes your brows raise. Closing your laptop, you reach a hand out to swipe her phone away. She gasps, attempting to swipe it back but you lean back on the chair, balancing precariously on its two legs. “Give it back, you ass,” she hisses, still trying to keep her voice low as she raises from her seat. Exiting from Tinder, your thumbs work deftly to open her messages and scoff as you go through her archived chats to see her mother’s messages were there. “You put your mom in archive jail? Woah, she must have really pissed you off,” she grunts as she tugs her phone back into her hands. You let her, folding your arms behind your head as she taps out from your intrusion. “What’s up? Did she bug you about university again? I swear she’s as anal about making those planners as you are.” “As opposed to how you live through life relying simply on your phone’s battery? Not to mention, you keep overcharging the hell out of your phone too. You should really change it — “ Ashley tucks her hand to her chest as you stand up, your chair banging as you ground it before you do so. At this point, a few people have plugged in their earphones anyway. “You’re stalling, Ms Graham.”
Ashley does this thing with her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks and chewing the insides as she contemplates spilling the metaphorical can of beans. It seems she relents as she settles next to you. There’s a sense of gratitude in her eyes as your knees are now facing her as you sit.
“These recent killings, it’s got her on edge,” she said. “She’s even been telling me I should have an escort everywhere I go. I don’t know, I just want to be normal. It’s hard enough that people treat me more like a concept or a walking ATM — an escort would just further that divide.”
A glance over her shoulder makes her words more concrete. Their eyes were clear in their intentions; flashes of green embedded in the very whites of their gelatinous orbs. Whether it was envy or greed was hard to decipher but it was clear Ashley wasn’t a person to them. She was a myth brought to life.
“You told her that?” she pushes her lips forward into a pout and you cock a brow. “Like she’d let that be an excuse. I understand her concerns but I’m not a damsel in distress. The Ghostface killings aren’t even aimed at this university, they’re completely random.”
“But you gotta admit, the close proximity would set anyone on edge. Your mother just happened to be someone who was born right on it,” you reach over to poke her cheek and she swats your hand away with a huff. “Can’t you ask her to hire secret agents instead? At least that way, nobody will see them.”
Ashley groans out that you’re the opposite of being helpful. Her phone buzzes in her hand and whatever she reads is clearly exciting enough for her to completely drop the conversation because she reaches forward and smacks your knees so hard it jerks up involuntarily.
“(Y/N), look!”
You’re half-expecting a new Tinder profile but instead, it’s a shittily made poster for a Frat Party. The curling of your lips has Ashley whining and she inches closer — her knees now between yours — as she wags the phone a bit.
“Dude, c’mon! We gotta go, everyone will be there!”
And if everyone was there, Ashley would have to be there too.
“Yeah, what better way to piss off your mother than to go to an overcrowded and overrated Frat Party,” you reply dryly. High schoolers made better posters. This one with the Comic Sans font, blurry PNGs of the hang-tight emoji, and Rick Sanchez lowered your confidence in the Earth's crust. Ashley scoffs.
“Shut up. Besides, the only reason you don’t want to go is because Mr Waitlist will be there,” she dodges your attempt to smack her arm. “Seriously, I have no idea why you choose to be in denial about your feelings for him. The chemistry between you two is insane. It’s almost sickening.”
“Almost? Guess we should try harder,” you mutter as you turn to face your laptop again. Ashley does not relent. “You should. I agree. It’s obvious you two like each other. I’ve already made a wedding plan for you.”
“Ashley,” you groan out. “Nothing is happening. We’re just...close friends.” "Again. Stage 1, denial," your eye-roll makes her inch closer and closer. "Not that anyone would blame you. He looks like some European model even with those weird side-part bangs." "Ashley." The finality in your tone makes her giggle. "(Y/N). You're attracted to him. The second you see him I swear your pupils just blow up bigger than when you're on molly. What's stopping you from just being exclusive-style?" Knowing she won't stop her sudden fixation on the topic, your shoulders droop just as you slip down your chair. Sinking deeper into your oversized hoodie, you sigh and attempt to entertain her as your fingers hover over your keyboard.
"We tried, but it didn't work, Ashley."
"Barely, tried. You had one foot out of the door before the relationship even started. I still remember you trying to keep it a secret, that's not trying that's giving up with extra steps!"
The violent shushing of a particularly peeved student causes Ashley to flinch. Pink dusts across her milky skin and she bows her head apologetically, her teethy grin gone in an instant. He seems satisfied with her expression. That quickly fades when he sees the stare you give him; his brows furrow and he frowns with a slow curl of his nose. Like a kitten hissing.
You recognize him from some of the classes you took. He was the kind of guy who'd continue to badger the professor with questions, acting so smug as he did so and never catching how exasperated they'd be. Obscenely polite because his parents were big spenders in the university's bank account. His greasy fingerprints on the steel frame of his glasses and pathetic excuse of a beard piss you off enough to curl your lips into a wicked grin.
"Sorry, were we too loud?"
The apricot sweater he wears reeks of cologne, the kind that pierces your nose and makes your eyes water from how strong it is. As he lifts his arms to cross it, Ashley straightens her back to put more distance between him.
"The two of you have been loud the second you got here." There's more he wants to say, the twitching of his lips and the tightening of his fingers prove that much. But you're staring up at him like you know something he doesn't — an omen is within your eyes and the chill it gives him shuts him up enough to leave with a comical stomp and huff.
Ashley cringes, glancing around to see if anyone felt the same as he did but is distracted by your question. "Everyone is invited to that party?" Excitement flashes in her eyes as she sees the same in yours.
"Fine. I'll go too."
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The music is so loud you're convinced it's rattling your bones. People are spilling out from the threshold of doors, and windows, on the stairs and the porch, and possibly on the sloped roofs of the house. The lights are everchanging. Streams of neon blue, green, and red are flashing through the fog that's flowing down from the corners of the room. The scents. The sounds. The feeling of bodies bumping into you no matter where you walk. It was a goddamn watering hole.
You had come here with Ashley, but she split off with some of her girlfriends. Last time you checked, she'd been invested in some girl's sob story as they crowded around her with red cups in their hands and slurred words. Ashley had given you a grimace but gestured for you to just enjoy herself.
You'd try to but there'd be no point in doing so considering how vapid everyone was.
So you nurse your drink in the corner, back facing the stairs, and smile as people walk by or above you. The music isn't all that bad, typical party music with some early 2000s songs that earns a good 'oh fuck, this is my song!' from the crowd.
Scanning the front door, watching every face that comes in, your hunger becomes more and more endless. Like a predator digging its claws into the bark of trees, you're restless in that little shroud of camouflage; shifting your weight from one side to the other, sighs escaping liquor-flavoured lips; grin getting more and more grim.
The touch on your nape has your head tilting away from him. Those calloused fingerpads — which not many people in this slice of "heaven" had — press into the solid bone on your nape; it elicits a barely there moan and your features soften immediately.
The cup he's holding is perspiring in his hands and you've spent enough time under his hands to know it had every right to be red and sweating. Deft fingers pinch the rim of your cup and you give him no resistance as he pulls it away to trade his drink.
"Thought you said you didn't wanna be here, Trustfund," Leon said as he leaned on the wooden panels of the walls. The shoulder bump he did is deliberate, a soothing croon to ask you to stop staring people down the second they enter the house.
"What gave you that impression, Waitlist?"Leon grunts, downing what little is left in your cup down his throat. Risking a glance away from the entrance, your eyes chase after the trail of wetness that slithers down his chin. God, he was gorgeous. A face so pretty it's no wonder he pisses off other men around him. His odd, dry, humour doesn't exactly help either.
"The lack of replies to my messages, maybe, geez, who knows."
"Oh, poor Leon," your pout earns a frown from him. "Couldn't get your dick wet when I was going through exams? Oh, poor widdle baby," he leans away from your fingers as they invade his face to pinch to what little adolescent fat still stuck to his cheeks.
"Oh, suck a dick, (Y/N)." Your smirk as you bring your lips to the rim of his cup. "Down, boy. We're in public, don't start begging just yet."
Unamused — or attempting to look unamused — Leon simply follows your focused gaze and tilts his head.
"I'll ask then. What's up with the staring problem? You attracted to doors now or what?"
The drink goes down with an awfully wheaty aftertaste and you smack your lips together in bemusement. "Fuck - what beer is this?" "Don't be an ass, they're doing a beer run, alright? I grabbed what I could. Are you gonna answer my question or not?" You swallow with a grimace. "D'you know that kid in Mr Pinto's class? The one with glasses and that god-awful voice? That know-it-all?" Leon nods. "Yeah, kinda looks like the typical nerdy douchebag, right?"
You lean in and Leon lets you. The both of you pretend not to feel the way his breath shudders as your wet lips brush the side of his cheeks.
"I wanna kill that rude little freak. Cut him open and smear his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk." Leon's eyes widen. As you peer at him through your lashes, his grey-metal eyes all but melt to reveal that bloodthirsty animal stalking between reason and lace-thin morality. He gulps thickly, casting a side-glance briefly to the entrance before he darts them back to you.
"Why?" He strains out after clearing his throat.
Oh, this is why you adored Leon Scott Kennedy.
It was the way he tried so hard to deny how twisted he actually was. That abashed flutter of his lashes, the skim of teeth over his rabbit-tongue-colored lips; everything contrasting to how violently he used his strength to thrust a knife into someone's rib; how easily he swiped and cleaned a hunting blade using his gloves.
The low, guttural, grunts he makes as he thrusts into you during that high. How he's so careful with his strength outside of the bedroom but during the heat of it? He's so shameless that he leaves hand-shaped bruises all over your hips and arms and even leaves indents of his teeth into your flesh. If he was really impatient, he'd fuck you all while wearing the Ghostface mask, holding that still-bloody knife to your throat as he fucked you so hard you walked funny for a day or two.
Despite how much he enjoys it though, he still asks ' why? '
Why him? Did he do something bad to you? Why not him?
Why? Why? Why?
It didn't exactly matter why. Leon never says no to you.
"He was a bitch to Ashley."
Someone bumps into him, and he braces his hand on the base rail of the stairs. Drunken laughter muffles the minute silence as he peers down at you. His broad shoulders look bigger this time. You faintly recalled Ashley slyly mentioning how he seems to work out more often now ("always jogging past near your accommodations, you must've seen him once in a while. Has he ever come over for a quick post-workout boost?" "Gross, Ashley...A few times, yeah -").
"That won't do." He said with furrowed brows. "No, it won't." Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in with a Cheshire smile.
"Ashley's like family to me. Besides, her mom's been worried about all these — " you giggle, trying to push down the urge to by chewing on your lower lip but failing. "What?" he asks, the tip of his nose on yours as he savours the sound. "C'mon, what'd she say, babe?"
"She's worried about these Ghostface killings," you playfully hiss out. He isn't sure if it's the party, the drinks, the bloodlust, or just you but he starts laughing along with you.
"So we gotta make sure he isn't dangerous for her sake, hm?" He noses under your jaw and the way you turn your face away makes his mouth water. That neck is far too untainted for his own liking; how long has it been since you've fucked? Since he's driven a knife into someone's skull?
Ever since that awkward break-up in your car, after that honest-to-god perfect night of killing that annoying and creepy line cook and fucking under the stars in the woods. That was the last time the two of you fucked and that was months ago. It caught him off-guard. That haze of pleasure being fanned away by the typhoon that was your sudden request to just break up.
The handjob on the wooden floors of your dorm followed by a blowjob was more recent but Leon just wanted to sink into that tight hole again and again for hours for him to be fully satisfied. The only reason he even stopped was because your alarm rang for an early class, one that you apparently couldn't afford to skip. All lies. He knows the alarm was just the weekday alarm that always went off at 9 am — he knows it's because of the beat of silence that followed after you came around his fingers.
The gentle panting from both of you, the sweet kisses he was leaving on your thighs and then your face.
You only pulled away when it got too real.
It just makes him more determined to show you how deep his devotion for you was. Whatever the reason behind your fear of commitment was, there isn't a line Leon wouldn't cross to show you how willing he is to be yours.
"Exactly," you whisper. How he hears it despite the music and people should surprise him but it doesn't. His body is hyperaware of your very presence. The minute changes in your expressions, the octave changes or lilts in your voice, the wordless way you communicate with him from across the room; Leon just knows you.
"A little birdie told me that he actually has a crush on you, Mr Kennedy." Leon doesn't pause in his actions. His tongue laps at the rising pace of your pulse, teeth brushing over skin and you try very hard to continue your speech despite the hand that cups your crotch.
"Somethin' 'bout you helping him pick up his books when the fucker tripped over his own fuckin' feet." You gasped as he started mottling your skin, capillaries just imploding under his ministrations. "Fuck, Leon." The cup is crinkling under your tightening hold and Leon simply cages you in between his toned arms. It's hard to focus on anything past them as you eye the prominent veins that disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt.
"Leon, calm the fuck down." He bites your neck in retaliation and you're glad some popular song plays over the speakers because the cheers that follow mask your moan.
What a ridiculous statement. Here you are, in his hands; perfect and handsome and sexy and yet — not his. It’s all a bit fucked up for him. Growing up alone, life offered no reprieve for little Leon Kennedy. His parents dying while he was young, then going to an orphanage — it all cemented into him that he was fine being independent. A partner sounded nice but he didn’t give it much thought.
Until you came.
Stubborn, silver-tongued, rich, handsome, so fucking handsome.
Not at all his type.
Waitlist, he hated that nickname. So he crashed a little late and unprepared for his first class. Sue him. Not his fault the school plucked out his name late too. Among the giggles of the classroom, yours stood out. It made sense since you were closest to him. Ashley was smacking your arm, sharing glances his way and you turned and mouthed a ‘sorry’ that Leon knew you didn’t even mean.
But then he kept seeing you around. Bumping into him during parties, always sitting near him in classes, accidentally hitting him in the face with a ball while you were chilling on the grass.
Fate was too perfect for him.
Leon was snarky and stubborn and he had nothing to give you that you already didn’t have.
But then, the night he saw you covered in blood. Everything seemed to shift. Because suddenly you weren’t this unreachable, little asshat with a wicked tongue and Leon was no longer a mutt with nothing to offer.
Suddenly, he saw that you were just as twisted and hungry as he was. A lone wolf with its teeth stained and its ribs showing under all that extravagant fur and Leon couldn’t resist himself chasing you after that.
The man who was bleeding out next to you had been desperate to try to sleep with you. The bruising around your neck and the dishevelled state of your clothes pieced the puzzle together. Leon used that to justify killing him.
For you. Just for you.
He was finally using the sharp teeth he had. Those blunt claws he’d been desperately trying to file down dug themselves into the dirt and he ran with you all the way down to Hell. Kicking the earth behind him, his breath visible as his teeth bare into a wolfish grin and you were right there.
Two lone wolves finding each other in a world full of rabbits and squirrels and deers.
Because that's what the both of you were. Not spiders with silk-weaved webs or snakes with venomous fangs. You were a wolf stalking its prey with your tongue lolled out and eyes so wide they shine like the moon.
Unapologetic killer.
If only you’d get the fact that you’re not a solitary animal into your thick skull.
Leon grunts when you pinch his sides, forcing himself to pull away with a disgruntled glare that you return.
“Did you hear what I said about the plan?” He tilts his head. “Was I supposed to?”
You click your teeth, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. Leon resists but he lets you go after a split second.
“Christ, Waitlist.”
Leon reaches his hand out but you take a turn into the living area and suddenly he’s bumping into bodies. They’re bouncing and shaking and he feels like a sailor in rough waters.
“(Y/N)!” his voice doesn’t reach past his own nose. The music is so loud he doubts you’re even deliberately ignoring him. “God fucking dammit!” Leon ignores the hand that clumsily tried to seduce him and the glossy lips that follow it, just shouldering through the sea of people.
The kitchen hails no signs of you. He’s glad to see the beer run was successful enough and grabs a bottle of your favourite to soothe whatever it is he did.
“Leon! You’re here!” Ashley pops up from across the island and Leon smiles at her way. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?” she eyes him skeptically and places her hands on the island. She quickly regrets this because of how suspiciously sticky it is but doesn’t miss a beat as she asks him; “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen (Y/N) but I guess those beers are for him.”
Ashley wraps her hand around a can and uses the condensation to somehow alleviate the stickiness. She would use the sink but with the state of a poor boy vomitting inside it and the amount of couples fucking in the bathrooms, this was the best she could do.
“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”
Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.
“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.
“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”
Ashley walks away and Leon stands there for a second to process what he’d just been told. The beginnings of a smile threaten to crawl onto his face so Leon purses his lips and just walks on towards the hallways to see if you’ve snuck into any of the rooms there.
He instead finds another person. Quite literally, they were shoved straight into his chest (thank god the beer was in a bottle). It takes a minute for Leon to notice him, really notice him, but after their half-assed apologies are shares Leon sees who it is.
From over his shoulder, he spots your half-hidden face just as you slink out of view.
“Hey, you’re...Michael, right?” the brunette perks up considerably and nods. “You’re in Mr Pinto’s class?”
Michael jumps into the conversation. “I am!” he exclaims though considering the state of the party, it is not out of place. Leon smiles charmingly and leans on the wall, offering Michael one of the bottles he’s holding.
His hands practically tremble to take it.
“You’re pretty smart, huh?” Michael scoffs at his words, his cheeks flushed despite not one sip taken. “I guess you can say that, I mean, 4.0 GPA but yeah. I guess I am pretty smart.”
This was going to be a long night, Leon thinks as he takes a swig.
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Dancing with Michael proved to be easier than talking to him. He’s much more pleasant when you can’t hear him bragging about being the smartest guy in the room or how his sister is as dumb as bricks (”It’s no wonder she resorted to bulimia as a last resort to get hitched” “Oh, wow.”).
Leon thought rich kids were already unbearable but the smart rich kids were worse. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that he’d see glimpses of you. A sliver of (H/C) coloured through the flashes of light. At times, he swears he even hears your laughter through the crowd and music.
Michael grabs at his arms and pretends to be coy as he squeezes and asks how much Leon works out. “I see you runnin’ sometimes!” And Leon suppresses the urge to cringe at how close his face is.
Did this make him an asshole? All this pretending to be nice, if God was real, was he shaking his head at Leon?
‘ If God was real he’d open the gates of hell to swallow you up the second you were born, ‘ he thought derisively.
But then, the Devil answers his question in the form of you. He sees you dancing, hands up in the air with your teeth bared in a giant grin. Leon's entranced; your arms slither down to your neck and Leon's not sure how he sees it with the flashing lights but he can see the hickeys he left on you. Michael is speaking, his ears relay to him. But he can’t pull his eyes from you. Leon doesn’t understand how you do it.
When you’re in the room it’s as if you’re the sun; the very center of his universe and he wants to implode into you. Be devoured and destroyed within your maw. A hand on his face and Leon is now staring at Michael. God, he’s staring at Michael.
Before he can speak, Leon asks; “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”
They’re in the back of the house now. Music is more muffled despite the way the walls reverberate. The wood panelling must be screaming from the LED strip lights pasted on it. All the lamps had a red cloth over them, the room would look terrifying if it weren’t for the clouds of smoke and slurred giggling from the bodies on the bean bags.
Michael’s palms get clammy and Leon pretends he doesn’t feel it. Deeper in the room, at the back, where the cove of a past reading nook was built. The heavy velvet curtains stink of weed and cigarettes. He doubts the stains at the end are anything but alcohol or vomit. Aptly named make-out nook, the windows are covered by old sports magazines so no one from the outside can gawk.
Leon pressed Michael to the window panes and he gasps, hands coming to rest on Leon’s waist. He does that annoying squeezing thing that makes Leon’s skin crawl. His lips are on him and Leon narrows his eyes, staring at the smiling bodybuilder with his bulging muscles and tanned skin. Superman underwear and all. Leon wonders what he’d think of the sight before him; if any of these frozen-in-time athletes coo and gasp at the scandalous activities this nook has seen.
The curtains rustle as Michael chews on Leon’s lower lip. He’s biting down harder than he should — Leon jerks back, hissing softly.
“Fuck, I’m sorry — Are you okay?” Michael pauses as the curtains part and your giggles flood through, tendrils of smoke slipping through your teeth. An act. You’re closing in for the kill, and Michael has nowhere to run.
Still, he looks oh-so-smug as he tightens his grip on Leon.
“Leon?” you gasped while Michael sneered at you as he took a handful of Leon’s crotch. Both pretend not to feel how soft he is. He squeezed and purred. Leon’s eyes remained on you, brows raised in a challenge. “He’s busy with me, (L/N). So move along,” Leon slid his toned arms around his waist. The sight was like a match being struck, and your eyes burned with fury.
‘ Now? ‘ his eyes ask. You nod, reaching for the pocket knife you tucked away in your (Leon’s) leather jacket.
‘ Now. ‘
Leon wanted to kiss you so badly that he felt his fingers shake as he reached for his own hidden knife.
“Dude, not cool. You can’t make out with me like 10 minutes ago then just make out with someone else!” You exclaim, clambering into the nook and letting the curtains naturally slip close. “Leon — c’mon,” you beg so sweetly when you’re pretending. Michael sighs, getting his filthy hands off Leon, and faces you.
One finger jabs at your chest and you tilt your head at it.
“Fuck off, alright? Not everyone is dying to fuck your used hole —“
He inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as metal sheathes itself into his flesh. Leon pulls out his knife and then plunges it inside his back.
Again and again and again and again and again.
Michael braces his arms on your shoulders, and your breath shudders. He looks up at you in panic. He doesn't pay attention to the knife you’re holding too, he inhales and the way his mouth opens tells you he’ll try to scream.
The blade sinks through his neck, and when he tries to swallow the blood that floods his airway you can feel his muscles and Adam’s apple squish and move it. So you twist and dig in deeper. Leon’s blade pulls out again, blood is quickly spreading beneath Michael’s legs but the room is already cast in red — as if anyone would see.
“You enjoyed the little shit, Kennedy?” Michael claws at your jacket as you tilt the knife up, slicing through more of him until he starts spasming. His choking and gasping makes you groan in relief, breathing in his death with a smile.
"He was". You don't dare pull out the knife. Not now. A little puddle of blood is fine but more than people will really notice. The thrill of it all is too much for Leon; the crowd of people being hidden only by curtains, a warm body sputtering and choking on you as you held the knife; your eyes staring up at him with nothing but adoration in them.
Try to deny him as much as you want, (Y/N). You can't hide from Leon's hunger.
Ashley's voice echoes through his head.
"Kept groping you like some sort of pervert, what a fucking loser. Heard he got caught stalking the swim team captain. Pathetic, right? Think we can drag this pile of shit to the pool?"
Why are you talking about this waste of space?
Leon grabs him and with no more than a grunt, tosses Michael's body to the window pane where he thuds and slides down onto the floor. Splatters of blood spray onto the magazine covers, forever staining them just like the vomit stains on the curtains, and Leon pushes you against the window.
You replace the knife you held with Leon's jaw, smiling into the kiss as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. Like your favorite beer. He's relentless as his hands grab the mounds of your ass.
From the outside, people snicker at the thumps they can hear.
"Fuuuck, Leon — Mfph, you're so fuckin' hasty," you groan. "Sorry for rushing when — fuck — when there's a dead body next to you."
You laugh and when Leon dives in again to suck the soul of your body he tastes the heavy smoke of marijuana lingering in your mouth. Michael is grunting, attempting to pull out the knife in his neck and you're especially cruel as you dig the heel of your shoes into his crotch. When he groans spurts of blood come out of him like a deflated waterbed.
"You're acting like this is something new," you retort. Leon just focuses on your neck again. Sucking over his marks and the slight pain that follows causes you to moan, gripping onto a fistful of his hair as your legs part.
What did Ashley say exactly? Fuck your brains out and tell you he's never letting you go?
He kneels abruptly, you're still catching your breath when he licks up your stomach, his bloodied knife now in his hand. You help him by lifting up your top, watching him lap at your happy trail with a dark blush across your face.
"Gonna suck my dick? You miss it that much?" Leon does not reply. Instead, he unbuttons your pants and you're chewing on your lip in excitement, gulping thickly as he pulls it down under the swell of your ass.
There's a wet patch on your underwear and Leon moans, pulling your pants down even further until it pools at your ankles. His knife is cold on your outer thigh, you hiss softly as the edges press and nick you but his tongue lapping at your dick through the cloth derails any complaints.
"Shiiit, Leon — " he slips the knife under your underwear, the serrated edges licking at your hips before a riiiiiiip! is heard. Ashley would be pissed knowing one of the designer underwear she gave you as a gift was purposefully torn apart but perhaps she'll be forgiving knowing it was to fulfill horny, filthy, purposes.
He must be really fucking excited. Leon's tongue is making a wet spot appear on your underwear and as if flimsily slips away from your hips, you swear you can feel the growl he releases as he sucks your exposed dick.
It twitches on his tongue, flushed from his attention as his tongue laps underneath it and his lips wrap around it.
"You miss me, baby?" You let out a sound of confusion at the question. "Yeah, you fuckin' do. You're so fucking hard."
Was he...was he talking to your cock?
"Bet you're dripping for me too, hm?" "Leon, what the fuck are you — "
The knife is now between your thighs, Michael's blood smearing itself there as he presses a kiss to your cock.
"If you're gonna cut me, wipe that pig's blood off." Your sneer is the last thing Michael sees as his eyes finally cloud over. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about him until now. The thought of his blood on you just disgusted you.
Leon wipes off his blood in his signature move; simply using your ripped undergarments in replacement of his gloves. Despite your annoyance, you won't deny how hot it was seeing him do it.
"Want me to cut you?" he hitches the blade to your inner thighs, the still-warm blade makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. "Can I?"
"...Not there. Somewhere else."
Leon stands, the tip of the blade on your stomach. He towers over you, his broad shoulders making your cunt ache for more. "Here?" You shake your head so he flicks his gaze to inspect your torso.
Taking the edge of your shirt from your hands, he instead slips it between your teeth and you narrow your eyes at him. With your hands free, you lean back onto the windows, chest rising and falling in anticipation as Leon traces the knife all the way up to your chest.
He pauses at your collarbone but you shake your head once again and so he lowers it to your pec. You shake your head but Leon is gazing at it intently. He strokes tenderly over the surgery scar then pulls the skin of your chest taut and before you can protest he digs the tip of the blade in.
You bite down on your shirt, hissing as he drags down the tip. Crimson seeps through, beading up like delicate pearls before it gushes out in small streams. Leon's knee digs up your cunt and the spark of pleasure makes you lurch forward to grip Leon's shoulders. He pushes you back, the thump once again earning giggles from the group on the outside.
"You know I love you, (Y/N). I'm sick and tired of pretending you don't love me back."
Bewildered, you stare at him with furrowed brows.
He twists the blade and you inhale sharply as he slices it, lifting the knife at the end which cuts you shallowly at the end of his...symbol?
What the fuck was he cutting into you?
"Since you're too fucking stubborn to accept it, I'll make sure you know it. I don't know what rich boarding school trauma you have or if mommy and daddy never showed you how love is supposed to work — you're fucking mine."
He drags the blade down, three quicks slices follow and your eyes well with tears while your hips gyrate down on the delicious friction he has provided.
"You think I won't understand you? Think I'll hurt you? I'm the only one in this fucked up world that'll love you unconditionally, Trustfund. I love you, (Y/N)."
The next letter — you belatedly realize — hurts more as he carves a jagged O.
"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you, I'll love you till the day we die, and even in Hell, I'll find you and I'll love you."
N hurts less, Leon's gotten the hang of the angles and how quick and deep he should do it.
"I'll burn the whole fucking world down if it meant I could stay by your side."
Your chest is bleeding, rivers of red escaping and it stings in the cool air so Leon presses himself closer. The warm of his body on yours numb out the pain of the pressure he had applied. Blood is staining your torso, dripping and mixing with your slick and his jeans and you're so turned on you can't find the words.
Leon just kisses your cheek, licking up the tears that escaped and you moan as he kisses you.
Leon thinks his ears are fucking with him. He pulls back, not far enough to let your lips leave his but far enough that he can look at you. There's a dopey grin on your face, and he can feel the shape of your lips as you speak.
"Luh — Love you too, Leon...Love you s'fuckin' much."
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It's a miracle no one has pulled the curtains back.
Maybe the noises were keeping them away. Everyone's a voyeur until the chance is actually presented in front of them, right? Hearing the both of you is enough. Seeing is too embarrassing.
You're completely wrong, by the way. Ashley had chased everyone out, locked the goddamn door of this red room with a giggle. Not knowing the true horrors that were hidden.
It was for the best.
Leon has you lifted in his arm, lapping up at the blood on your sternum as his cock bullies in and out of your cunt. The gymnast staring at him from over your shoulder makes him grin and he pulls you firmly down onto his cock, groaning as you squeal.
"Fuh — Fuck! Fuck! Leon!"
You're gripping onto whatever leverage you can find purchase off without ripping off the pictures. But he's balls deep and you keen, hands finding itself tangling with the curtain rod. Leon is so rough, so intent on destroying your cunt as his hot breath protects his name from the air, every jostle and thrust makes you clench around his cock like a vice.
"Fuck, this boypussy's made just for me, huh? Sucks me in every time I pull out, greedy little cunt." His words are making your vision blur with tears, he latches onto your nipple and your arm jerks.
The curtain rod falls with a crash and Leon immediately pulls you in. He shield your naked body with his own, completely ignoring the dead body inches away. He expects horrified screams. The both of you are greeted with silence instead.
The room is empty.
More space to fuck you in, he thinks as he smirks.
Limply, you lay out like a starfish on the couch. Cunt gaping and slick with your juices and blood and his spit. His dick is streaked with blood and your cum coating it, he spits a glob off spit onto your dick and you whine, reaching for a throw pillow to hold onto as he uses his thumb to jerk it.
"Fuck, you look so fucking handsome right now."
"How...how have you not cummed yet...?" You pant out, hips lifting and twisting in an attempt to escape Leon's thumb. He presses your hips down with his other hand and you groan, eyes rolling back.
"Needa' make up for lost time," he says as he licks his lips. "Missed this hole so badly. Shit, look at the way he's winking at me."
"Stop talkin' to my cunt!" He grunts as you kick his shoulder, turning to bite into your calf with a gleeful chuckle.
"Fuck, I wanna make a movie with you." Your pretty little prince-y parts are more forthcoming than you are. Your cock jumps and he sees the way you squeeze down.
"Say less, baby." You try to kick him again but he leans back faster than you. He meanders towards his discarded pants, pulling out his phone. You try to catch your breath, one arm tossed over your eyes as your legs go lax, thighs twitching as you try to calm your heart rate.
The light from his phone feels warm, but maybe that's just you being sensitive. He makes sure it takes in all the details of his carved name, then pans down to your sopping hole and a throaty moan escapes you as his fingers slip inside with ease.
"Jesus, I can feel your heartbeat." The casual way he says it makes you whine, he pumps his three fingers in and out before curling it up, and your back arches. The cutest "ah!" coming from you.
He hopes the phone picks it up. He admires the way you as he lines up his cock to your cunt. Slides it through your lips, hissing in pleasure as he bumps his cock with yours, and you squirm, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Leon, cum in me. Please, fucking Christ, just cum in me already."
His cock is so thick. The stretch of it never fails to make your mouth open in a silent scream, choked-out moans of his name or God escaping. When his balls smack against you, you see white behind your eyelids, and Leon chuckles as he feels your walls spasm around him.
He pulls back. The streaks of liquid on his cock just make him all the more eager. Leon lets the camera take in your body as it takes him. Plowing into you with abandon, bracing himself on his fist as his hips rattle yours.
"Fuck, yes. Tighten up around me, that's it, baby. Yeah, that's it."
He angles the phone away, wanting to see your face without it blocking him. It falls onto the floor and Leon steals your breath away as he kisses yo. His mouth tastes like blood and beer and you.
His brows pinched as his back rippled with pleasure. "I'm close," he warns and you whimper, locking your ankles behind him just as you wrap your arms behind him.
"C'mon, baby. Fill me up, yeah —Nghah! Yeah! There, right there! Fill me up, Leon, please — Ah!"
Pressing his forehead with yours, he claims your lips once again and his thrusts get sloppy, uncoordinated. He comes with a moan of your name, sheathed in as deep as he could get and the warmth that fills you makes your cunt clench around him tightly, milking him as your orgasm washes over you for one last time that night.
"Fuck, (Y/N)..." Leon presses gentle kisses to your cheek, stroking your neck as he pants.
"I...I promised Ashley I was gonna jog with her tomorrow," you mumble out, whining as Leon's hips stutter into you. He chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck.
"I'll take responsibility." "You better."
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"Poor Michael," Ashley's brows slope as she watches the TV replay the news.
You're honestly impressed Leon managed to sneak out with the goddamn body, he wrapped it up in the curtain if you recalled, and placed it on his backseat. Leon didn't wanna leave you in the car but you were passed out, sleeping peacefully. So he spent a good hour or two just tossing the guy's body in the school's pool.
When you came to, you were at home with him wiping you down and your chest wrapped up.
It's been a week since the two of you were official, Michael's case seemed more and more hopeless — Leon had done a good job erasing traces of evidence. Like a proper killer.
His fingers squeeze your calves, and you groan softly, curling your toes as he massages it. Ashley turns back to peek at the both of you. You with your legs splayed over Leon's lap and him casually working out the kinks in them, all while you were wrapped with a blanket around your shoulders.
"You two aren't the slightest bit scared? He was at the party y'know. Michael and that Ghostface dude," she shudders and looks ahead at the screen. "Fuck, what if I made out with him!?"
Leon snorts, shaking his head. "I'm sure you didn't, Ash." You nod in agreement, adjusting the pillows under you, ignoring the sting of the wound under the bandages.
"Bet if you did, you'd know. He'd be so fucked up you'd probably taste blood in his mouth or somethin' freaky like that." Leon glances your way, and you give him a grin.
Ashley pouts, sinking back. You reach a hand out to play with her golden locks. It makes her shoulders droop and she leans back to you.
"You didn't even know the guy, Ashley. Ya' know what they say about killers, right? They only kill the people they know, you know any killers?"
She thinks about it.
"...You scream at the sight of a cockroach and Leon can barely parallel park without getting teary-eyed..."
"Hey," Leon's ears turn red. "That was one time and everyone was staring, okay?"
Ashley laughs, shaking her head as she switches the channels. Yeah, you were right! She didn't know any killers. She was safe hiding out here in your apartment with Leon until the police wrapped up their investigations.
As long as she had the both of you, she'd be safe. Which she wasn't wrong about — Ashley meant too much to you to be hurt. Her mother didn't have to worry about the Ghostface killers attacking her, the two of them were right behind her. Braiding her hair, asking if she wants popcorn for their movie night.
254 notes · View notes
lao-shu · 9 months
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House Party.
————— ♡ —————
Pairing: Mammon x Female Reader
Genre: Flirty fluff, teasing, implied nsfw.
Synopsis: Your situationship with Mammon has been going on for far too long, and it’s time one of you did something about it.
————— ♡ —————
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————— ♡ —————
The music is loud and the party is in full swing. You briefly wonder why you came, and why you came alone, but a feeling of relief washes over you as you spot a certain… special person.
“Hey, you.” You say softly, pressing your body against his back.
Mammon immediately turns around and rests his hand on your cheek. “Hey, doll. I was hopin’ I’d run into ya tonight.”
You smile at his words and look around. “Are you having a good time?”
“Oh yeah.” Mammon puts his arm around your waist, adding a slight grip and pulling you close to him. “Real good time. You?”
“I just got here.” You can’t hold back a genuine grin as you look up at him. “But I’m glad I found you.”
“I love hearin’ stuff like that from ya.” He leans down as the music gets louder, getting closer so you can hear him. “You look damn good tonight.”
“So do you.” You say as you play with the collar of his shirt, looking directly into his eyes.
“Mm.” Mammon hums, pressing a soft kiss against your neck. You tangle your fingers in his hair and sigh, your words barely audible over the volume of the party. “Just make me your girlfriend already...”
Mammon pulls back and smirks. “You want me to?”
“We’ve had this flirty hookup thing going on for, like, two years.” You laugh, “I’ve had actual relationships that were shorter than whatever we’ve been doing.”
“Yeah, I know.” Mammon looks at your face carefully, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Two years and you’re still not my girlfriend. Hm.”
You get close to him and press your forehead against his. “Two years and you’re still not my man. Hm?”
Mammon scoffs. “I could be your man.”
“Could you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Mammon pulls you closer, “I think I’m gonna be your man, actually.”
“Oh?” You laugh softly, “And what makes you so sure?”
“Because you’re gonna come home with me.” Mammon leans down and kisses your neck again, moving up closer to your ear. “And I’ll do things that’ll make ya never want to leave.”
“Oh…” You can barely think of a response as Mammon takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look into his eyes.
“Oh.” He repeats you with a smile. “Yeah. You are.”
“Aren’t you eager?” You smirk, poking his cheek. You suddenly feel the need to cool down, and think of an excuse to disappear and compose yourself for a moment. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”
Mammon nods and watches your body move as you walk away. He absolutely loves your figure - you’re just his type and he’s never been shy about letting you know.
“Hey.” Mammon jolts as another voice startles him. He looks over to see Solomon, and rolls his eyes. Solomon snorts with laughter. “What’s got you so worked up?”
“Nothin’.” Mammon turns his head, his cheeks clearly red. “Just..” Mammon trails off, finally ending his sentence with your name.
“Oh, yeah. She’s something, isn’t she? I’ve wanted to ask her out for a while.” Solomon smiles and waves at you as you make your way back over.
“Don’t even think about it. She’s mine.” Mammon practically hisses at him and Solomon continues to laugh, holding his hands up and walking away with a shake of his head. Mammon’s mind immediately snaps back to the beautiful way you sway your hips as you walk up to him, Solomon completely forgotten.
“One for me, one for you.” You hand Mammon a drink, and he grins, clinking his glass to yours. “Cheers.”
The two of you continue your night together, drinking and dancing, mingling and having fun, but always staying at an arms length from the other. As the night starts to wind down, Mammon slides his hands down your sides, resting comfortably on your hips. “Hey, doll. Look at me.”
You do as he says, tilting your head as you question what he needs.
“I was serious about you comin’ home with me.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, “I’m gonna take you into my room, get ya nice and comfortable, and then I’ll make ya forget how to say anything but my name.” He kisses your neck, pulling you as close as you can get. “How’s that sound?”
“Oh.” You turn away, blushing. You could often have a pretty playful back and forth of flirting, but once in a while he’d hit you with something like this - and it always had you tongue tied.
“I could really use your company tonight, baby.” He whispers, “You’ll come home with your man, won’t ya?”
“My man?” You giggle, looking back up at him.
“Yeah. Your man.” Mammon repeats, and you could feel the seriousness of his tone. He takes your hand and presses it to his chest. “You make my heart race, and you make me so damn hot, ya know that?”
“Hah.” You look down, nudging him softly. “You’re just drunk.”
“Maybe a little.” He shrugs, “But I’m not wrong. What, do I need to press you against the wall and show you how badly I want ya?” Mammon leans down so his lips are almost touching your own. “How ‘bout that?”
“… You wouldn’t.” You smirk, practically daring him to follow through.
“Watch me.” Mammon does just as he promised, pressing you against the wall and kissing you. His soft lips press to yours as his hands travel down your body. You kiss him back with fervour, unable to resist the temptation that he’s been dangling in front of you the entire night.
“Got an answer for me yet, baby?” He whispers against your lips, continuing to kiss you and sliding his tongue into your mouth. His hands wander behind you and he grabs your ass, groaning with desire.
“Yes, yes.” You pant, “I’ll go home with you. I was going to the entire time.”
“Good girl.” Mammon smiles, kissing you once more. “Just lemme finish my drink, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Really?” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “You’ve spent the entire night begging to take me home and now I’ve gotta wait?”
“Of course you have to wait.” Mammon smirks, pressing his finger to your lips. “I’m havin’ too much fun playin’ with ya. Don’t tell me you’re all impatient now, sweet pea.”
“I’m not.” You playfully pout and look away.
“Mm. Right.” Mammon tilts your head to look back at him. “And I’m not dyin’ to make you mine. We can lie all we want, but it doesn’t change what’s true.” He grins and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the door. “C’mon now, I don’t need ya gettin’ desperate.” He teases with a playful wink, and you make your way back to the House of Lamentation.
369 notes · View notes
spliffymae · 11 months
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nobody has to know, a. ojiro
synopsis: it’s caribana season, but instead of catching the dirtiest of wines, aran is moping at his place, thinking about you.
⚠️afabreader, fwb!aran, aran post time skip, reader is caribbean, established fwbs, jealous aran, smut, mentions of phone sex, implied (un)protected sex, MINORS DNI !
kio’s notes - wishin all y’all a hot girl/boy/person summer !!!!
now playing
⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰
“y/n, you know you have to get permission before you can walk out like that.” your friend teased you once she saw your costume. it was the day of caribana, a day that shouldn’t have tasted bittersweet on your tongue, but did when you realized you wouldn’t be going with aran, your original date for the day.
you kissed your teeth as you grabbed your keys off the counter, dropping them in the side bag strapped to your waist.
“fuck permission. and fuck ojiro’s goofy ass anyways”
3 weeks earlier….
“oh my god, you’re fucking stretching me outtt.” you whine, your lips pouty with fat tears rolling down your face. you were sitting on aran’s lap, being slid down onto his hard dick as you two sat on the couch in your living room.
aran doesn’t respond just yet. he’s too busy trying to keep his composure, stopping himself from cumming before he can really enjoy you.
“aren’t you glad i answered that call, hm? got to give your spoiled ass just what you needed to feel better.” he was a deep baritone in your ear, the velvet of his durag slightly rubbing against your face when he lowered to speak to you.
“but i-it’s not what i wanted.” you let out with a huff. “you’re playing games with me right now, oji.” you were trying really hard to not be the whimpering, babbling mess he knew you were. you were trying to prove him wrong.
aran laughed, “like you weren’t playing games when you let that whack ass take you out. now be good and watch the movie.”
he was right. after all, this all started because you called him to fix a bad hookup you had with a good first date.
“it’s 2am, i thought you and whatshisface were linking.” aran was curious when your name popped up on his phone. after you told him about the date and texted him that the guy wasn’t a creep, he figured he’d hear from you in the upcoming days.
“the stroke game was nonexistent. he came from a handjob and couldn’t get it back up. i’m mad i wore this for nothing.” you were on facetime, so aran could see the annoyed look on your face; the way your brows knitted together and creased, with your eyes filled with disappointment. your brown lips were pushed out in a pout and without a second thought, you flipped your camera to show your mirror. you stood in a pink lingerie set, and the sight of you had aran’s cock twitching in his pyjama pants.“i don’t get it. i look so pretty tonight, oji. don’t i?”
the way his name fell from your mouth made his heart skip. the neediness in your tone, the yearning he could hear just from his name. how you wanted him. aran swallowed back the carnal groan that tried to creep its way out his mouth, “yeah, you look so pretty, princess.” he said with a comforting smile. he looked back up at his tv, his nba 2k23 mycareer opened with his friends spamming his chat and yelling at him to snap back to reality and back to the game. his mic was on, but he had muted them to focus on you. they, however, could hear you two.
you sighed, “can you come make me feel better? …i don’t feel pretty.” and aran hated that you let this dickhead get to you like this. how you looked in the mirror with sad eyes. he knew you shouldn’t have gone on that date. he knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied with anyone but him.
“of course, i’m comin’ right now.” he didn’t waste a secon contemplating on whether he should leave to go to you at 2am. he turned off his ps4 and hung up the call, grabbed a t-shirt, hoodie, his phone and his car keys, and was on his way to you.
2 weeks earlier…
“bro, you literally just disappeared on us last week. you know that was the only free time all of us had.” osamu pushed aran as the two stood in the starbucks line. they were meeting some friends from high school at the coffee shop to hang out. since graduation, each of them went their separate ways, focusing on achieving their respective goals. they always made time to hang out once a week though.
aran mumbled a meaningless apology, “sorry man, had to take care of something.” he wasn’t sorry. he honestly didn’t care. if he could choose between playing video games with his friends or spending a night in you, he would pick you everytime.
“something or someone. y’know one day we’re gonna have to meet this girl. it’s been going on for so long now.” samu gave aran a final look before stepping up in the line. he was next to order, watching as the girl in front of him stepped to the side.
you had looked up from your position at the cash register of your job to see two familiar faces. one being your friend osamu from volleyball camp, and aran—the man, who just last night, was moaning into his phone about how bad he needed you while he pumped his hand around his cock.
“y/n! looking radiant as ever!” osamu winked.
you flashed a smile,“thank you osamu, what can i get y’all today?”
“i’ll take a white chocolate mocha, spinach and feta egg wrap, and the truth from aran about his secret girlfriend!” the last part came out of nowhere catching both you and aran off guard. you laughed a bit, but out of pure nervousness. your heartbeat even increased.
“samu!” the young man yelled, giving osamu a slap to his shoulder.
you simply giggled, “this girl must be pretty special if you gotta keep her a secret, oji.” the nickname didn’t come out in the usual way aran was use to hearing. with your voice breathless and filled with an adoration for him. instead it was purely friendly, with a little hint of playfulness. it was different, and it made him miss the former.
“there’s no girl, samu. i ain’t find anyone worth my time, alright? aran ojiro is meant to be a free bird, so let me fly.” aran said as he walked to the other open register, eyes completely missing you as he gave a flirty smile to your coworker. and of course, she loved it. you on the other hand, found yourself to be irked.
1 week earlier…
“bro, you seriously ghosted me over something you took out of context?” aran had finally gotten the chance to be face to face with you after a week of radio silence from you. you two had both shown up to kita’s birthday party. you had come just to show face. you weren’t gonna stay—you were simply there to hand kita his gift and leave before a certain six foot wing spiker showed up.unfortunately, aran spotted you handing the present off to kita with an apologetic smile, attempting to leave before you could see him.
before you could step off the porch, aran had dragged you back into the house, disregarding the looks from guests and protests from you, and pulled you upstairs into the bathroom. he pressed you on your absence, on how you refused to pick up his calls and leave his texts on delivered.
“i’m letting you fly, what’chu mean? you’re a free bird, right?” you knitted your brows in curiosity, “i mean,” you smiled, “that’s what you said…right?”
aran pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. he leaned against the bathroom counter, standing in front of you, seated at the edge of the tub in front of him. “seriously? i was just saying that to get samu off my back. and even if i meant that shit, so what? we’re just fucking.”
you scoffed, “so now it’s just fucking?…don’t give me that shit, aran. you and i both know we passed ‘just fucking’ a long time ago. but you wanna go flirt with other people in front of me? like you weren’t on my phone begging for me?” you had an attitude, that was for certain.
“bro, why are you trying to make this complicated? i swore we weren’t supposed to be anything serious.” he was defensive, honestly he didn’t know why. he just didn’t like how you were coming for him.
you nodded, “right. so we can just act like we don’t care for each other.”
“i didn’t say all that. i’m just not understanding why you’re getting at me over a misunderstanding.” he honestly wasn’t looking for this. he was just hoping to get a brief explanation and maybe even a lil’ sum sum, but instead he was getting an earful. and it wasn’t an earful of your moans, the way he had hoped.
“because i like you, asshole. because you fuck me and say shit like ‘this my pussy’ or ‘i’m the only one for you’. because you take me out and shower me with affection. because you’re there whenever i need you. and you expect me to what? not feel a way? be okay with you flirting with other girls in my face?what, am i just hear to make you hard?” you raise your arms in frustration.
it was clear from his reddened eyes he had smoked, and the vodka breezer he held in his hand let you know he was lightly drinking too. you say all this because it had to be these factors that made him respond to you the way he did. with a half smirk and laugh, “what’s wrong with just making me hard?”
but you found nothing funny about this. not anything about you finally telling him how you felt was funny to you. it was a pain. a giant and irritating one that you wanted to be free of, but somehow just seemed to worsen. “you know what, you clearly don’t care so i’m not gonna either. see you around, oji.”
the nickname was in a different tone this time around. no adoration, no playfulness. you spoke it flat, with no emotion. and as you stood up and left aran in the bathroom by himself, with the last words being his name in such an emotionless voice, he couldn’t help but think he might have fucked that up.
present…
aran was sitting on his front porch, spliff in hand as he looked down at his phone. today was caribana. he was supposed to be there with you. but instead he was nursing what kita described as a ‘cracked heart’.
he was thinking about you. about how hurt you looked as you left the party. you went radio silent on him afterwards. didn’t hit him up for anything; not to link, not to fuck, not to talk...you were ojiro free—and he hated it!
“so y/n was the secret girlfriend.” osamu had come outside from the kitchen, two cold beers in his right hand.
“wasn’t a girlfriend.” aran mumbled, taking a pull from his spliff.
osamu rolled his eyes, “shut up, she might as well been. look how she got you. meanwhile where is she?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but aran took it literally. with his phone in his other hand he went to instagram and ironically, your story was the first in the long and seemingly endless line of instagram stories. he tapped the icon, immediately seeing a video of you posing in your costume with shensea’s shen yeng anthem coming through your phone.
osamu leaned over to see you and mindlessly whistled at your appearance. “you fumbled a serious bag, my friend.” he ignored the glare aran sent his way because he knew aran knew he was right.
“shut the hell up.” the bitter man mumbled, eyes looking back on his phone to see the next story you posted. it was you on the street, posing with people from your band as you all held up your country’s flag. aran got a better look of your costume. the way that its colors; the purple bands and silver jewel stoned garments that connect to them, brought out your rich and warm undertone the way your headpiece demanded the attention to be on you. you were all smiles with your girlfriends, and aran loved to see you happy. your smile was probably his favorite thing about you.
pissed him off he wasn’t the one making you smile like that, though.
“tsumu just texted me that he sees her.” osamu said just as the timer for your story ran out. it then went to atsumu’s who was holding his phone high up, recording not only him walking w the parade of people, but walking behind you…who was carelessly wining against his crotch to the sounds of gyal you a party animal.
osamu had just so happened to glance back at aran’s screen and his mouth instantly fell at the sight. there was his twin brother, handing his phone off to someone next to him as he flipped to the back camera. he took your hips in his hands and began to move against you making you cheer in excitement.
it was all harmless, a careless bubble he caught because he was your friend. there was nothing serious about it, and that is what made aran the most upset. to know you were okay to do that. because you weren’t his, he had no right to get mad at you just dancing with atsumu because you two are not together, that’s what he knows you’d say if he were to bring this up. but he made it his right to have, the jealousy. because who did you think you were to move against any other man the way you moved against him?
osamu wanted to laugh! because of course this would happen to aran. of course the man who was ‘too busy for love’ would find himself pining after “the one that got away”.
some time had passed and aran was now three spliffs in, a beer in hand as he sat on the beanbag in his room. some random show was playing in the back, but all his attention was on the various instagram and snap stories you posted. he would even watch the snaps of your friends just to see if he’d catch you doing anything. yeah, he was down so bad. here you were having so much fun without him. so much so that not only was he annoyed, but he finally decided to just cave and text you.
ojiro (don’t answer rn)
honestly i’m too high
but fuck it you won
i care about you
and you make me hard
so call me when you see this
418 notes · View notes
yelena-bellova · 7 months
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Nineteen: Let’s Do This Right
Plot: Jamie and Y/n settle into their new relationship and Ted makes a shocking announcement.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: f!reader, allusion to smut, light innuendo, language
A/N: We are finally over the angst hump and into happier times 🥰 Thanks y’all for sticking through the storm 😂 Hope you guys enjoy this one! We’re almost done 😭
—————
Waking up sober with the man you loved was an entirely different experience than doing it drunk.
Y/n traced the sharp edges of Jamie’s face as he slept, content to stare at him forever. He was snoring lightly, his face twitched every once in a while indicating he was probably dreaming. It was peace beyond what she could fathom.
It had been three days since the Man City match and the two of them had barely left the house. Jamie was cleared of any injury by day #2, but he swore on his life that he needed Y/n to stay in case he relapsed. She’d pointed out that an unbroken, un-sprained, un-fractured ankle had a slim chance of backsliding. Jamie’s rebuttal consisted of viciously attacking her with his lips on the couch. They made the mutual decision she’d stay in the name of recovery.
Jamie’s eyes drowsily opened, landing on Y/n. “Watching me sleep again?”
“Mm-hm,” her smile was lazy.
“Creep,” Jamie teased, rolling onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. He didn’t think there was a better thing to wake up to than her eyes on him.
“Part of the perk package,” Y/n shrugged.
Jamie turned back onto his side, tugging his girlfriend to him. “Thought you were scared of me,” he said, his voice was gravelly with sleep.
Y/n reached up and ran her fingers over his cheek. “Terrified,” she whispered playfully.
Ignoring the morning breath sensation, Jamie captured her lips in a slow kiss. They hadn’t done much else for 72 hours. For all the weeks he’d pined for her, Jamie was enjoying not having to hold back any longer.
Y/n hummed against the kiss, ever the more sensible of them. “We can’t be late,” she said in between kisses.
“We can be late,” Jamie rolled on top of her.
“No,” Y/n elongated the syllable, “We cannot. How many times has Ted called a full staff meeting?”
Jamie deepened his kisses, trying his best to derail her train of thought. “Loads of times.”
Y/n was unable to challenge the lie with Jamie’s mouth glued to hers. She pressed a hand to his chest and pushed, which only made Jamie hold her tighter.
“Jamie-“
“It’s gonna be some team motivational shit,” he argued, tracing her form through the borrowed t-shirt of his, “West Ham’s next weekend. We’ll be doin’ trust falls and watching movies about friendship. We can miss it.”
Just as he was going in for another kiss, Y/n slid her hand between their lips.
“Then we’d better get there before all the good partners are taken,” she countered, pecking Jamie’s nose before slipping out from under him.
Jamie groaned dramatically and fell face-first into the pillows. If everyone else had been second priority when Y/n and him were just friends, nothing and nobody fucking mattered now that they were together.
“Get up,” Y/n ordered as she padded across the floor to Jamie’s dresser. She’d convinced him to let her go home once to grab clothes.
“Fine,” Jamie moaned, flopping onto his back, “But the second it’s done, we’re comin’ right back here,” he drilled his finger into the bed. “We can’t chance my recovery.”
Y/n laughed, looking back at the mess of a man watching her every move. Hair falling in his face, sleepy eyed and pouting, he’d never looked more perfect.
“Deal.”
—————————
Word had spread quickly around Nelson Road that there was a new couple alert.
Jamie and Y/n entered the building hand in hand, giggling to themselves over something he’d said, and were welcomed to a flood of congratulations. From the physios to the security guards, everyone seemed to be taking joy in the two of them finally getting together.
Jamie held the door open as they entered the press room. Any and all conversations came to a halt, all their friends and teammates hooting and hollering at their appearance. Y/n rolled her eyes but grinned through the whole thing. Just before taking a seat with the boys, Jamie kissed her and the whole room exploded. Y/n shoved him away, sharing a sensational smile as they separated.
“So,” Rebecca said teasingly, “He allowed you two to leave the house.”
“She hasn’t answered one of my texts since we got back,” Keeley interjected, coming to stand on the other side of Y/n, “Been busy nursing him back to health, have you?”
Y/n could feel her cheeks heating up and kept her eyes focused ahead of her. Jamie was fielding several high fives and back slaps from the boys. “This is a workplace,” she tried to pull her lips straight.
“Of course. You want to focus on work,” Keeley nodded, “I’m sure it’s been very stressful, making sure Jamie’s comfortable, attending to all his needs.”
Rebecca snorted quite loudly.
“I hate you both,” Y/n tried her hardest not to giggle.
Before any more innuendos could be birthed, Y/n spotted a face on the far end of the room she’d only ever seen through screens.
Nathan Shelley.
“So Jamie wasn’t kidding,” she commented. The team’s text chain had spilled the news that Ted was rehiring their former coach. “Excuse me.”
Y/n walked the edge of the room, stopping in front of Nate, who looked a bit nervous. “Hi,” she stuck her hand out, “We haven’t met yet. I’m Y/n.”
“Oh,” Nate smiled, “Nathan. Ted told me you took over for Keeley.”
“Yeah,” she replied sweetly, “I’ve been handling PR, helping the boys out with interviews…dealing with unpleasant headlines created by other club’s coaches.”
Nate’s face dropped, he swallowed hard. “Oh.”
Y/n crinkled her nose, “Yeah.”
“I-I do want to apologize if I made your job a-any harder,” Nate stuttered, pulling his now sweaty palm from Y/n’s grip, “It’s uh, it’s a bit complicated but-“
“Look,” Y/n kindly stopped him, “Clearly a lot of things went down before I ever got here. If Ted trusts you, I trust Ted. Just,” her stare turned more somber, “Don’t fuck with us again.”
Nate shook his head quickly, “No. Never.”
“Good,” Y/n smiled and patted Nate’s shoulder, “Glad you’re here.”
Y/n turned on her heel and returned to her spot. Nate didn’t feel threatened so much as firmly reminded that if he ever lashed out at AFC Richmond again, there was one more person who would be displeased with him.
Just then, Ted stepped up to the front of the room, Beard in tow. “Alright, chatty Kathys and Kens. Let’s press pause on the small talk.”
The room’s attention redirected to the head coach.
“Now, first off, let me take a minute to congratulate y’all again on our win against Man City,” Ted started, everyone clapped and whistled on cue, “Took a heck of a lot of effort from you boys, and I’m proud of every one of ya.”
The boys seated around Jamie slapped him on the shoulder. He’d all but clinched the win for them.
“Second,” Ted hesitated, “Coach Beard and I’ve got a little announcement we wanted y’all to know about first.”
One minute, the room was all smiles and laughter it was just another average Tuesday.
The next, the floor had been ripped out from beneath each one of them.
Y/n’s eyes were glued to Ted, waiting for the punchline of whatever joke he was telling. He was creating the world’s longest fake out and in seconds, he’d grin reassuringly.
When Ted’s gaze crossed hers, giving a brief but resigned smile, Y/n realized it was real.
She looked up to Rebecca, who was caught between a frown and an even deeper one. She already knew.
Ted explained the details of it all, no one asked any questions. For once, every part of AFC Richmond was rendered speechless.
—————————
Y/n and Jamie drove home in silence. They’d made plans to return to work the next day. Jamie needed to get in all the practice he could, Y/n and Keeley had to handle Ted’s announcement. Life had to return to normal.
They went their separate ways once they got back to Jamie’s place. Jamie headed for the bathroom while Y/n dragged into the kitchen. They’d left happy with the promise of a long and lazy day spent at home. The change in plans was unspoken.
Y/n leaned against the counter, crossing her arms across her chest. Here she’d thought everything had just settled. Jamie, work, a chance at the Premier League title…
Jamie emerged a second later, padding over to the refrigerator. He reached in and grabbed a drink.
Y/n sighed, “I’ll start lunch in a bit.”
“Sure,” Jamie nodded, his gaze was focused on…nothing. He started to walk off to aimlessly wander the next part of the house.
“Jamie,” Y/n pushed off the counter, reaching for his hand before he could escape.
He turned around, still unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t until she guided his chin up that the red veins around his pupils became visible.
In sync, Jamie and Y/n slid their arms around one another. Nothing needed to be said.
—————————
While England was having a tremendous reaction to the news that Ted Lasso was departing AFC Richmond at the end of the season, business at Nelson Road Stadium went on as usual.
Most of it was because people didn’t want to acknowledge that Ted was leaving. The boys didn’t really talk about it, Rebecca flat out refused to discuss it. Even Y/n was touchy about the subject, quickly changing the topic when a KJPR client mentioned how sad it was. No one wanted to deal with their feelings on the matter.
Y/n and Keeley carpooled from the office over to Nelson Road, discussing how well Ted’s recent press conference had gone. With Y/n no longer in hiding, their weekly meetings with Higgins and Rebecca had returned to their normal rhythm, relaxed and upbeat. This time, they were seated around Rebecca’s couch, going over a very interesting piece of news that had recently broke.
“The press are asking if you have any comments about Rupert’s divorce,” Keeley looked to Rebecca.
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca hummed as she scrolled her phone, “But no, no comment.”
“Classy,” Higgins nodded.
“Smart move,” Y/n agreed.
“Moving on,” Keeley said firmly, “Leslie, Y/n and I are asking if you have any comments on Rupert’s divorce.”
Rebecca sighed and eyed each one of her colleagues.
“Juicier the better,” Higgins gestured around them, “Safe space.”
“Also no comment,” Rebecca replied.
Keeley, Y/n and Higgins voiced their disappointment with boos and raspberries.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Rebecca smiled, “I just genuinely don’t care anymore.”
“Yes, but can you care for just two seconds,” Y/n begged from her spot on the couch, “I don’t even know what happened!”
“Well, perhaps if you hadn’t been using personal days on a certain someone,” Rebecca fired back, smirking, “You’d have gotten the story.”
Y/n gasped in mock offense, while Keeley laughed and poked at Y/n’s knee with her pen.
“I might need to be filled in on that one as well,” Higgins said to Y/n, “Again, safe space.”
“Next order of business,” Y/n ended the conversation.
Higgins took out his own notebook, turning serious. “We need to talk about who we’re hiring to replace Ted. I’ve made a list of the usual suspects,” he got up and handed the book to Rebecca, “And I threw in a basketball coach from New Zealand just to spice it up a bit.”
“Hey,” Y/n shrugged, “It worked once before.”
Rebecca glanced down at the list, her face a bevy of mixed emotions. “Right,” she set the papers down, “I can’t think about that yet.”
“Okay,” Higgins said, sensing her tone, “After the season then. Oh, last thing from me. On a happier note, now that we have a guaranteed spot in the Champions League next season…”
The four of them squealed together, waving their hands wildly.
“We have had many requests to buy a piece of the club,” Higgins continued, “Our value is at an all-time high, so it’s worth considering,” he gestured to Rebecca, “You give up 49%, retain full control and make a huge pile of cash. We can buy more players, renovate the stadium.”
“Ooh,” Keeley straightened up, “Maybe we can get some of those fancy seats. The ones with the heaters like they have at Tottenham.”
“Ooh, they’re amazing,” Higgins agreed, “In February. You see, I accidentally turned mine on last summer and nearly melted my bottom crack together.”
The women went silent.
“Think about it anyway,” he finished, “It’s only 49%.”
Rebecca was already running it through her head. “Leslie,” she called him back, “How much would I get if I sold the entire club?”
Y/n’s eyes bulged, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Rebecca,” Keeley scolded her boss, “You can’t sell the club.”
“Why not?” Rebecca shrugged, “I mean, I only got into this to ruin Rupert’s life. And he seems to be doing a pretty good job of that himself.”
Keeley and Y/n shared a worried glance.
“So come on, Leslie,” Rebecca lifted her tea cup, “How much?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” Higgins cautiously reentered the room, “Off the top of my head, I’d say two billion.”
Tea sprayed out of Rebecca’s mouth all over the table, hitting most of Y/n and Keeley’s papers. Not that any of them noticed.
“Fuck me,” Rebecca breathed.
Suddenly, Y/n had a whole new concern to add to her list. If Rebecca sold the club, the whole structure would change. Players could be traded, the entire staff could change, KJPR could be looked at as too much of a risk and dropped. The decision would leave no part of AFC Richmond untouched.
A text alert pulled Y/n out of her spiraling thoughts.
Roy Kent: It’s time.
“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, “I’ve got to take care of something.”
“Are you coming back to the office?” Keeley asked.
“Yeah,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Don’t leave without me.”
She hurried out of Rebecca’s office and down the stairs. Jamie had let her in on a surprise the boys had planned as a going away gift for Ted and Beard. They’d all been working tirelessly on it and after witnessing rehearsals, she had to see the final product.
Y/n got to the pitch just as Roy announced the end of their last practice with three coaches. She snuck through the gates to the fan-packed stands and took a seat behind Trent. Pulling out her phone, she hit record and aimed the camera toward the pitch.
A clang of a bell rang loud through the air, Will’s boombox positioned on the water table. The boys were lined up behind Sam and Isaac, crouched and waiting for their cue.
What happened next could only be experienced in person. The Greyhounds performed their rendition of ‘So Long, Farewell’ from The Sound of Music. They were perfectly on pitch, their choreography was flawless, and took visible pride in hitting their marks. By the time Dani finished his solo and the boys waved and sang ‘goodbye’ in harmony, Y/n found her eyes were watery.
“Thank you, fellas,” Ted said once it was over, “That was perfect.”
The team and the fans broke out into cheers. Y/n moved her phone to capture the pandemonium that apparently came whenever grown men completed a musical number. Had it not been for the witnesses, it would have been too insane to believe.
Afterwards, Y/n met Keeley inside, ready to head back to the office. She was carrying pink fuzz trimmed gift bags in each hand.
“You know I can say these are from both of us,” Keeley offered as they strolled down the hall.
“No,” Y/n repeated the same answer she’d already given, “It’s a sign of protest.”
“Fine,” Keeley relented as they passed Nate, “Hey, Nate.”
“Hey, Keeley, Y/n,” the assistant kitman greeted them, “You all right?”
“Yeah,” Keeley answered for both of them, “It’s so good to have you back.”
Nate nodded, “Thank you. It’s really good to be back.”
The women rounded the corner to the coach’s office, cutting past Trent and Roy’s desks.
“Hi,” Keeley greeted her ex.
“Hey,” Roy spun around in his seat.
Y/n chortled as she passed him, smirking knowingly. As much as Keeley had pressed her for details on her and Jamie, she’d also revealed a few key developments between her and Roy.
“Hello, boys,” Keeley approached Ted and Beard’s desks.
“Hey, Keeley, Y/n,” Ted smiled, eyes darting to the gift bags, “Uh-oh. What do we got here?”
“A little last-day present. One for you,” Keeley set one down on Ted’s desk before Beard’s, “And one for you. Don’t,” she jumped, “Open that before you get on the plane!”
Both men threw their hands up in surrender.
“Or better yet,” she softened her tone, “Just don’t get on the plane.”
“Thanks, guys,” Ted and Beard both said.
“Oh no,” Keeley placed her hands on Y/n’s shoulders, “These are very much my gifts.”
Y/n smiled sweetly, “I don’t give gifts to traitors.”
Ted laughed understandingly. Y/n was less than thrilled with their decision.
“I respect that,” Beard nodded.
Following Keeley into the locker room, Y/n and Beard shared a high five.
“Is everybody decent?” Keeley asked the boys, uncovering her eyes before Y/n did to a fully clothed room. “Aw, one of these days, right? Okay, remember, you’ve got your extra press session tomorrow at noon.”
“Which does not mean 12:15,” Y/n interjected, “There’s no such thing as fashionably late when you’re all wearing the same thing.”
“And you’re confident,” Keeley instructed while the two of them crossing the room, “Generous. Excited,” she threw her arms in the air, “You’re fucking legends!”
The room erupted into cheers. Not only were the boys hyped for the match and all that was attached to it, they genuinely loved having Keeley and Y/n around.
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Y/n smiled as they exited into the hallway.
“And to think,” Keeley elbowed her friend, “You almost missed it.”
Y/n rolled her eyes just before a pair of arms yanked her backwards and into the air. She yelped before recognizing the familiar grip.
“Should I assume you’re staying here for the day?” Keeley smiled, watching Jamie spin Y/n around.
“No,” Y/n grunted, “This will be very quick.”
“No, it won’t,” Jamie called to Keeley as she left the two of them to their moment. He set Y/n down but kept his arms round her waist.
“Well, that was professional,” Y/n teased, settling her hands to his chest.
Jamie shrugged, “It ain’t like nobody knows.”
“Yes, well, there’s still rules.” Y/n adjusted a stray hair that was slipping out his headband. “The dance went well, yeah?”
“Yeah, think we crushed it,” Jamie smiled proudly, “You got it on video?”
“Every second,” Y/n nodded, “It’ll go locked away in my vault of special Greyhound Only media.”
Jamie laughed, the lads and him had worked hard to nail the choreography. There needed to be proof, however secret.
“So Roy invited me out tonight for a beer,” he switched topics.
Y/n pulled back and grew mockingly serious, “That goes against the Jamie Tartt Diet Plan.”
“He said that since I’m with him, I get a pass.”
“Well, that would’ve been nice to know he was so lenient before he made me tape the pre-approved food list to my fridge,” Y/n remarked. Wherever Roy knew Jamie would be, he made sure training followed.
“So you’re okay if I go?” Jamie asked.
“Of course,” Y/n replied, a little puzzled, “You didn’t think you needed to ask my permission, did you?”
“No, just-“ Jamie’s fidgeting thumbs rubbed lines into Y/n’s waist. “It’s been kinda nice, just me and you. Just wanted to make sure you were cool with it.”
And it had been nice. Shutting the world out for the days after the Manchester match, coming home to one another after work, getting to explore the new territory of their relationship. It was heaven and it warmed Y/n’s heart that it clearly meant as much to Jamie as it did her.
Without any care for if they were alone or not, Y/n pulled Jamie in for a soft kiss. She smoothed her fingers against his cheek as they broke apart, Jamie kept his eyes shut and rubbed his lips together.
“Go have fun,” she smiled, “I’m always here, but Roy’s kindness is fleeting.”
Jamie chuckled and adjusted his gaze to his girlfriend. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Y/n beamed.
With a final peck, the two of them headed in opposite directions, Jamie back to the locker room and Y/n out to Keeley’s car. Even though it had only been a few days, Y/n was bewildered that there’d been a time where the three words they exchanged so freely were impossible to fathom.
—————————
With the sun setting on him, Ted nudged a ball along the training pitch. Nearly everyone had gone home, but he was taking his time saying goodbye to the place he’d called home the last three years.
“Y’know, I’m mad at you.”
Ted turned around to see Y/n, leaned against the wall. The small smile she wore contradicted her words.
“Oh no,” Ted smiled back, “What’d I do?”
“You give me this whole speech last week about how people here won’t leave me,” Y/n sighed, trying to keep her voice steady, “And then you go and do the very thing.”
Ted’s smile changed with sympathy. Y/n hadn’t pulled away like usual when she felt something big, she’d just been quieter. Still present, but withdrawn. It was nice to hear her admit the problem so quickly.
He walked across the pitch and sat down on the concrete, gesturing for her to join him.
“I’m also very jealous of Henry,” Y/n continued as she took a seat next to Ted, “To have a dad who’d move across the country to try and help their family, then move right back the second you say you miss him.”
The real reason for Ted’s departure had been spoken of privately. If anyone didn’t understand, they did after hearing it.
“Y’know he’s still talkin’ about gettin’ to play coach for a day,” Ted lightened the mood.
Y/n chuckled, that had been a good day. “He’s definitely got a future in sports.”
They let silence come naturally, waiting for the words to present themselves.
“You know, I haven’t thanked you for everything,” Y/n looked down at her lap, her hands fidgeting. “Everything you’ve done for me. If you hadn’t smacked me upside the head, I wouldn’t have come back here. I wouldn’t have the boys, Keeley, Rebecca…I certainly wouldn’t have figured things out with Jamie.”
“Oh, I disagree,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I think you and Jamie would have found y’all’s way to one another no matter what.”
“No, Ted,” Y/n turned to him, her eyes sober with seriousness, “I would have never had the guts to say what I said. I would have watched him fall for someone else and it would have been…” she shuddered at the thought, “Miserable.”
It was the truth. Y/n and Jamie may have taken the steps but if Ted hadn’t knocked on Y/n’s hotel door, nothing would have come to be.
“I owe you a lot, Ted,” Y/n continued, looking between their bodies, “Thank you.”
Ted’s eyes turned misty. He never quite knew what to do when people praised him. He never felt like he did enough to earn it. He also saw the potential in Y/n that had come from opening herself up.
“Well, you’re welcome,” he replied.
“Any plans for what you’ll do when you get back?” Y/n asked.
Ted exhaled, “I dunno. Didn’t know what I was doin’ here, coaching soccer. Maybe I’ll try something else new. Maybe lacrosse or rugby.”
“Or pickleball,” Y/n added.
“There you go,” Ted smiled, the two of them sharing a laugh, “Whole word of possibilities.”
The sky was turning dark fast, the golden glow illuminating the pitch gleaming for the last time.
“Y’know the best part about family’s that,” Ted nudged Y/n, “It don’t matter where in the world you are. It’s still a family.”
Y/n smiled sadly, tracing the last visible edge of the sun. It had been nearly a week since she’d left the shocking voicemail to her parents. Not a word from either.
“That helps a little.”
“And you gotta promise me you’ll keep the patriotism goin’,” Ted grinned, “Confuse the heck outta this country.”
Y/n laughed. Her, Ted and Beard could be their own trio at times. The three Americans.
“I will,” she looked up at Ted, “Promise me we’ll win this weekend?”
Maybe at the beginning of the season, each member of AFC Richmond had different motivations for wanting to win. Rebecca wanted revenge against Rupert, Y/n simply wanted to work at a successful club, the boys had wanted to prove their critics wrong, and Ted wasn’t much concerned at all with victory. Now they felt united. Everyone wanted to win for Richmond.
Ted and Y/n grinned. It was unspoken that the only guarantee was that Ted and the team would get it their all. That was all that was needed.
Finally, Y/n rose to leave. “You heading out? I can give you a ride.”
“I think I’m gonna stick around a little longer,” Ted answered, letting his eyes drift fondly around him.
Y/n nodded and saved the memory in her mind. A coach on his pitch one last time.
“Goodnight, Coach,” she said, turning to leave.
Ted watched her walk off towards the car lot. Her future at AFC Richmond was brighter than she even knew.
“‘Night, Y/n.”
—————————
With the season wrapping up, Y/n’s evenings were free from working overtime. And with her new outlook on life, doing nothing was actually enjoyable.
She was in the middle of catching up on a show when there was a knock at the door. She headed downstairs and peered out the peephole, pleasantly surprised at the sight of her boyfriend.
“Hi,” she greeted as she opened the door, “Roy cancel?”
“No, I’m just coming back,” Jamie answered.”
“Oh,” Y/n leaned against the doorframe, “You two have fun?”
The single drink he’d been allowed hadn’t lasted Jamie longer than two minutes. But the kinship with Roy was the real highlight. “Yeah,” he smiled, “Yeah, it was good.”
“Good,” Y/n grinned, glancing back at the stairs, “Well, you’ve missed nothing but tv of questionable quality and crap takeout so-“
“Actually,” Jamie hesitated, knocking his fists together, “I wanted to ask you somethin’.”
Y/n waited for him to continue.
“I think we should go out. On a date.”
“A date,” Y/n repeated.
“Yeah,” Jamie nodded, his nervous eyes scanning her face, “What do you think?”
Y/n laughed, “I mean, we’ve kind of done this whole thing backwards.”
“I know,” Jamie closed his eyes and rubbed at his face, “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask or what but…I wanna do this right. Us.”
Jamie’d had many short-lived relationships and meaningless flings. He’d never tended to any of them, preferring to let them fizzle out when he got bored or he fucked up enough to make them leave. Keeley had been the last one to do so and it had left a lasting impression on Jamie. Now with Y/n, so precious to him, he was taking great pains to make sure this was the one that stuck.
“I’d love to,” Y/n smiled warmly.
Jamie’s grin was boyish, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, “Name the time and place, I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
Y/n gestured behind her, “Are you coming up?”
“Eh,�� Jamie paused, thinking the decision over, “Not tonight,” he met Y/n’s eyes, “Tryin’ to do this right.”
The whole of their relationship had been so unconventional. They’d practically lived together the first few days, said ‘I love you’ more than some couples did in a year and saw each other nearly every hour at work. A little structure wasn’t a bad idea to start out with.
“Fine with me,” she beamed, “Go get some rest.”
“I will,” Jamie replied, sparing one more look at his girlfriend before heading down the steps, “Night.”
“Goodnight,” Y/n said softly.
She’d just turned on her heel, beginning to shut the door when Jamie rushed back up the steps, reached for Y/n’s wrist and tugged her to him. They both smiled into a passionate kiss.
—————————
Jamie had been very strict in not giving Y/n any hints on what their first date would be. He’d texted her an address, told her not to Google it, and said to arrive at 7PM.
And so, right on the dot, Y/n showed up in a white floral dress and sneakers to a spot in Richmond. Stood outside a large pair of gates was Jamie, hair swept to the side, in a blue dress shirt and pants.
“I didn’t Google,” Y/n held her hands up, “Promise.”
“You look fucking incredible,” Jamie said, a little dumbstruck. He came to meet Y/n halfway and held her waist, “Shit.”
Y/n slid a hand over his shoulder and up his neck, “I’m not sure I want to be with someone who’s got such a foul mouth.”
Jamie matched her smirk, “Fuck off.”
They slid into a slow, easy kiss, one they knew if they didn’t break would become the main event of the night.
“You gonna finally tell me what we’re doing?” Y/n asked when they pulled away.
“Come on,” Jamie teased, taking her hand, “I know it’s killing you not knowing what’s going on.”
They entered through the gates. “Oh, you know,” Y/n said casually, “I only wanna break into hives a little bit.”
Jamie chortled, he loved pushing her out of her comfort zone. It wasn’t very hard.
They walked a short tree-lined path and passed a small lake before a massive glass building revealed itself. Surrounding it was pristine cut grass and gorgeous beds of flowers.
“Wow,” Y/n muttered.
“Welcome to Kew Gardens,” Jamie announced, his soft tone matching the mood.
Y/n shook her head distractedly, “I’ve never been here. Always meant to come but…I never really had a reason.”
Jamie smiled as he watched her take it all in. “Well,” he adjusted her hand in his, “Now you do.”
Turning them around, Jamie led Y/n towards the rose garden where there was a candlelit table set in the middle. Nearby were two waiters, waiting with a cart of food.
Jamie pulled out Y/n’s chair and helped her slide in, taking his own seat after.
Y/n glanced around them, suddenly aware of the silence. “Did you…close this place down for us?”
Jamie shrugged playfully, “One of the perks of bein’ famous.”
The waiters strode over, placing a plate in front of each of them. Where Y/n’s had some sort of pasta, Jamie’s was a plain chicken breast and wild rice.
“Well, the food’s certainly not a competition,” Y/n remarked, trying not to laugh.
“Home stretch,” Jamie replied. He didn’t suspect he’d change much about Roy’s regiment after the season ended, but he fucking missed food.
Y/n bobbed her head, “Then it’s, what, waking up at 10AM and gorging on sugary cereals?”
Jamie looked up from his plate, dropping his fork. He pointed to Y/n, “That’s the first thing we do on Monday.”
She laughed, covering her full mouth with her napkin.
“I’m serious,” Jamie continued.
Y/n shook her head at him in adoration.
Things grew quiet quickly, the two of them eating and their minds drifting suddenly to what Monday would bring.
“It’s gonna be weird,” Y/n observed as her eyes traced the nearest rose bed, “With Ted gone.”
Jamie lowered his gaze down to his plate. They had yet to talk about their feelings on Ted’s departure. The news had affected them in different ways. Jamie had finally found a coach who, despite many personality differences, he could count on. Ted had seen the best in him when there wasn’t much to see. He’d always be grateful for that.
And Y/n, though she’d tried with all her might, hadn’t been able to keep Ted out of her heart. He was the best of the home she’d tried to erase. He’d become her biggest guide through her time at Richmond.
“Yeah,” Jamie agreed.
Y/n’s eyes darted between her plate and Jamie. “A lot’s changing. Ted, the Champion’s League…”
Jamie smiled up at her.
“Couple other things…” Y/n matched his expression fleetingly, “You know, we haven’t actually…talked about anything…about us.”
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Jamie settled back in his chair. “Guess not. But…” he shrugged his head, “Is there anything to talk about?”
There couldn’t have been a more perfect example of the contrast between them. Jamie thought with his heart, Y/n with her head.
“Manchester.”
Y/n’s answer came the second Jamie finished his sentence. As soon as they’d come out of their cocoon and back to real life, the topic had started eating at her. The night at Georgie and Simon’s hadn’t been spoken of.
Jamie’s face tensed, though he tried to hide it. He wanted to put that whole night behind them. They were fine now.
“Jamie, what I said to you was…” Y/n paused, tears beginning to build, “Awful. I didn’t mean them and I still said them-“
“But it’s fine,” he reached across the table and took her hand, “Look at us. I think we recovered.”
“Jamie.”
At her insisting eyes, Jamie’s facade faded. Their long friendship allowed them to read each other better than most new couples.
“Yeah, okay,” Jamie admitted softly, “It sucked.”
She was glad he’d said it, truly, even if it only made her guilt more real.
“But…” Jamie sighed, “It’s not like I don’t understand why you did it. I’ve kicked a lot of people outta me life because I didn’t wanna let ‘em…” he waved around his chest, “See all the shit.”
“I know,” Y/n whispered, squeezing his hand, “But I shouldn’t have said it. I was scared and overwhelmed and…”
She drew a deep breath, shutting her eyes and waiting for the oxygen to bring strength. Jamie held her hand the whole time.
“I’ve never loved anybody like I love you,” Y/n said, locking eyes with Jamie, “I kept it that way because I didn’t want to get hurt. And then you show up and just…” she smiled, “Mess up all my plans.”
Jamie chuckled, ducking his head briefly.
“And when I realized that, it terrified me because you already had me,” she continued, “You knew me. I just felt…exposed. So instead of dealing with my shit, I hurt you. And I don’t know how I’m ever going to forgive myself for it but,” she bristled at herself, sniffling, “I just need you to know how much I regret it.”
Jamie was, for once, struck utterly speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so cared for. The delicacy and devotion Y/n treated him with was new to him, regardless of how long they’d been friends. He hadn’t doubted her, not since the moment she’d stormed into the med room and told her she loved him, but this was just further confirmation that it was the real thing.
“I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Y/n’s watery smile finally broke, a tear sliding down her cheek.
“I know we’re both fucked,” Jamie said, “It’s the truth. And I know I’m probably gonna mess this up a lot, but…I wanna try. Really try at this.”
Y/n only knew Jamie before she’d arrived through headlines and interviews. The man sitting in front of her, pouring his heart out, stroking her hand with his thumb didn’t resemble him in the slightest. She knew every syllable was intended with the most sincerity possible.
“You say ‘try’ like I’m ever gonna let you go,” Y/n chuckled.
“Fuck no,” Jamie’s face shifted seriously, “I just mean…I’m gonna try and be the best I can for you.”
“Me too,” Y/n agreed, smoothing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’m gonna fuck this up a lot too.”
Jamie chuckled, “You don’t fuck anything up.”
“I almost fucked this up,” she pointed between them.
“Fine, fine,” Jamie relented, playfully smirking, “Love confessions and turkeys. Those’re your fuck ups.”
Finally, Y/n laughed with might, naturally making Jamie do the same.
“We’re gonna be okay,” Jamie assured, gazing at her so confidently, Y/n’s fear couldn’t react at all.
“Yeah,” she smiled.
Jamie peered around them, brushing over the beauty of the gardens. “I know I got all this together but…I’ve got an idea.”
Y/n let him help her out of her seat and lead her off into the night. She wasn’t going to analyze anything to death about them. Jamie was her spontaneity.
He drove them through Richmond until they were on an all-too familiar road making an all-too familiar turn into an all-too familiar car lot.
After tipping Renee heavily to turn on the lights, Jamie and Y/n were in the stadium, Jamie kicking balls into the net. Y/n sat in the coach’s dugout.
“When’d you know?” She called.
Jamie lined up the ball, it was difficult to move properly in dress pants. “After Wembley. But looking back,” he paused, filing through the memories, “Probably ‘round that time we went out clubbing and that dick came up to you. Just felt wrong to see you with someone else.”
“Yeah, you were a bit weird that night,” Y/n recalled the jealousy, but not the poor soul’s name.
“Like you were any better about me and Keeley,” Jamie chuckled, making another goal.
“I wasn’t weird” Y/n insisted, her voice’s pitch shot up, “It was just…new information.”
Jamie was cheesing hard, reveling in the memory of her stumbling and stuttering and insisting it was fine. “Was that it for you?”
“It was certainly the first sign that something was wrong,” Y/n adjusted in what was typically Roy’s seat, “But I think Wembley was…I don’t know. My life was in the toilet, I thought I’d lost my job and all this,” she waved around her, “But being there with you, cheering you on…it felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. You made me forget about all that stuff.”
Jamie had stopped, giving Y/n his full attention.
“But looking back, it probably happened way before that,” Y/n shifted, suddenly nervous over the vulnerability.
“I think I know my moment,” Jamie declared.
“Hmm?”
“It was after that match where Isaac jumped that fan,” Jamie took a few steps closer, there was still feet of distance between them, “And you came over that night. We’d had this, uh,” he hesitated, “This talk in the locker room and I just realized how lucky I was to have you in my life. And then I realized…I wanted to be with you all the time.”
Y/n stayed quiet, awestruck.
“So if you think you ain’t ever letting me go,” Jamie turned around, nailed another goal and came right back, “I promise I’m gonna be worse.”
“I’m okay with that,” Y/n beamed, “God, I was so set on not dating a footballer and now look. You’ve made a WAG of me.”
“Stupid fucking word,” Jamie made a face, “Maybe I can be the WAG. The…HAB.”
Y/n laughed hard enough that she snorted.
“What? You’re a badass. I’d make fucking great arm candy,” he smiled, glancing back to the goal. “You coming? I didn’t bring you here so I could practice.”
“Right,” Y/n hopped off her seat and crossed the pitch, “You’d better step back because that kid’s league training ‘s gonna whip your ass with a vengeance.”
Jamie rolled the ball to her and Y/n caught it under her foot. She nudged it into position in front of the goal and took a breath. She was ready to kick when-
“Hang on,” Jamie interrupted, looking down at her with such intense focus, “Your posture’s all off. Let me-“
He proceeded to press his body flush against Y/n’s, getting a cackle out of her.
“This is not golf,” she remarked.
“You gotta correct mistakes like this straightaway,” Jamie held her hips, speaking over her shoulder, “Could affect you in the long term.”
“Oh, well,” Y/n twisted in Jamie’s hold to look at him, “My Premier League future rests in the balance.”
“Exactly,” Jamie lined his lips up with the shell of her ear, “You’re gonna wind it back, keep your foot steady, don’t flinch at the contact, and fuckin’ send it.”
Jamie shifted a few inches to avoid Y/n’s leg. She took a second to visualize the ball going in the net, swung her leg back and kicked the ball with all her strength.
It flew straight in.
They erupted in cheers loud enough to make anyone near think Richmond had won the whole fucking thing. Jamie crouched down in front of Y/n, giving her the opportunity to jump on his back. He ran them around the pitch, the two of them screaming and laughing like children.
In two days time, the pitch would be filled by two teams. The seats would be packed with fans. Richmond’s destiny would be decided.
But for the night, it belonged to Y/n and Jamie. The place they’d fallen in love without ever realizing it.
—————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
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enchantedlov3r · 14 days
Text
My heart is saying let's go! John B Routledge and JJ Maybank
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🎶I'm a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way! If you wanna be with me, baby there's a price to pay🎶
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Summary: There has been tension between you and the two boys but no one's ever acted on them, plus there the boys! They gotta rub you the right way...
Pairing: John B x Fem!hispanic!Pogue!reader x JJ Maybank
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: pet names, oral (f), flirting, angst, arguing, jealous kiara, angry reader, mention of death, smut, cliffhanger, kiara being a party pooper (i have nothing against her this was just a random idea), pinning and yearning, many emotions, overall good vibes, FLUFF LIKE TOOTH ROTTING, ENJOY!
A/N: I looooooovvvve me some of that John D and Papa J (divider creds to @cafekitsune
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you were walking down the street from your house. you had just recently gotten into an argument with your dad and you really didn't feel like dealing with that right now.
you were walking down the street towards the chateau where you practically lived whenever you and your dad fought.
It was the only safe place you could go to, besides your childhood best friends were over there!
john b and jj maybank, the two boys who grew up to be the hottest men around. you had the biggest crush on them both and they noticed ever since you guys started 9th grade together.
since then you've flirted with each other, tested each others limits to see who would snap first, you even kissed them both at a stupid spin the bottle game.
though kiara has always been a little jealous considering she kissed jj and john b at the same party. And granted they never said they were dating because no pogue on pogue macking but hey, you and them? broke that rule long time ago.
you finally arrived and ran your hand along the Twinkie. you looked inside wondering if anyone was inside but nope, nobody. you went up to the door and knocked. you pace around the front porch before knocking again.
after about a minute you hear someone say, "hold your horses man, i'm comin." You instantly knew it was jj's voice, how could it not be.
when he opens the door he's got this boyish grin on his face as his eyes rake up and down your body. "hi jj, how's my surfer boy?" you greet with a warm smile on your face and open arms.
he gladly accepts your warm embrace along with the feeling of your warm skin on his as you were just in a bikini with these cute little short shorts on.
"i'm doing a lot better now cupcake," he says biting his bottom lip as he checks you out. "gimme a lil' twirl huh cupcake?" he asks smirking. he grabs your hand holding it up as you twirl around with giggles escaping your mouth.
"hey jayj, my eye's are up here." you say snapping your fingers in his face. you roll your eyes when he pouts and push past him to get inside.
"johnny boy, where are you bubba? I missed you," you call out hoping that john b is in here somewhere. suddenly you hear footsteps behind you and as you turn around you squeal out of fear and excitement.
john b has you wrapped up in his arms as he spins you around. john b was always your favorite but at the end of the day, you liked them both and your love for them evens out to the point where there both your favorites.
"there you are, been thinking about you all day baby." he says as he puts you down with his head snugged into your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist.
"Oh really, well then I guess my appearance was good in your favor." you say giggling. You see jj behind him staring at your exposed legs and his bottom lip between his teeth.
"ugh, hey, john b c'mere. Take a look at our girl." he says as he makes eye contact with you. john b let's you go and his eyes rake over your body as he walks to stand next to jj.
"what? do you want a twirl too?" you asks with your hands on your hips. They both smile and look at each other. "no, no. y-you look nice" john b says.
"I mean yea but without the clothes would be reeeaaal nice." jj says.
"JJ MAYBANK! How dare- ugh how could- ugh never mind." you stutter, face flushed. they've never been this forward with you but I guess since you guys kissed, there getting bolder and bolder.
"aww is our girl getting all shy now?" jj said making a fake pouty face with only mockery behind it, no sympathy at all.
you flip them both off before muttering some slight curses in spanish.
"Ustedes, hijos de puta, pueden ser verdaderos idiotas." you say while walking outside. (Translation: you motherfuckers can be real idiots.)
they hate when you curse at them in spanish, only knowing a few words because you use them a lot. "Hey! I know what puta and idiotas means you jerk!" jj yells at you.
you giggle and stick your tongue out at them both. john b is standing there in pure shock like 'what did i do' and jj is just angry. you make your way to pope, sarah and kiara.
"hey guys! what's up?" you asks excited to see sarah and pope. you and kiara aren't exactly on the best terms right now. she was your number one and now she's been replaced with sarah all because of a boy.
it was stupid really but whatever, if your guy's friendship was put in jeopardy over a boy and jj at that, then you guys were never really best friends to begin with.
sarah rushes over to you instantly embracing you in a warm hug pope following and doing the same. You opened your eyes and watched as kiara sat there and gave you a small smile. You simply smiled back before drawing your attention back to sarah and pope.
"hey girl! what's wrong? you look like you've been crying." typical sarah. Such an observer. "Yea i'm fine, just got into another argument with my dad, noting too serious." you say with a weak smile.
She tuts and shakes her head, "I told you just come and live with me for a month at most." she says.
"Yea and risk my father tearing up tannyhill, and risk putting you in danger? yea no chance. Eres demasiado importante para mi" you say to her. (Translation: you are too important to me)
She smiles understanding the words that came out of your mouth as you say them to her and everyone else everyday. You nod at her and walk over to pope.
"Hey. pope pope! Hows papi Heyward doing?" you say laughing as soon as you see pope's face.
"One that nickname is dead. Two, never call my dad papi again. And three, he's alright thanks for asking." he says rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.
"Noted on number one. Never on number two, he's papi forever, and three, that's good, glad he's ok!" You say making sarah laugh.
You see the boys coming outside with beer cans in their hands and they're walking towards the boat. sarah managed to highjack one of her dad's famous boats and now you all have it.
Today was a day where you all go out on the boat, listen to music and swim around and get slightly drunk. That was a weekend for the pogues. And even though it is stupid considering you guys have school in two days, who cares!? your living life like stupid teenagers should.
your making your way towards the boat with john b and sarah when you see kiara rush up to jj. there both talking and jj looks your way but, you quickly look next to them to make it look like your looking at pope.
waving your hand over to invite pope to the conversation sarah was having with you and john b. you three get on the boat and you turn to grab some cans from john b so you can put them in the cooler.
Once everyone is on it's smooth sailing from here until of course kiara has something to say. This has been going on for many weekends now when you all want to have fun, kiara some how ruins it with her jealousy.
"why are you doing it anyway?" she asks. you were scrolling on your phone while jamming to the music in the background and laying your head in jj's lap while he was talking to john b when she said it.
sarah looked at her confused like 'what is she talking about' and then noticed she was talking to you. sarah then tapped you to get your attention.
"¿qué pasa sarah?" you asks her. She nods her head to kiara and kiara rolls her eyes.
"yo kie, is there a problem?"jj asks, it seems her question got everyones attention now. pope looks confused and so does john b.
"I wanna know why you do it. why you lead them on? why you flirt with them sooo much!" she says glaring at you.
"kiara are you serious right now? we're all just trying enjoy ourselves and you feel the need to have this conversation now?" you say trying to keep your composure.
you have your dads temper and when you got angry it wasn't exactly the best. your whole mood would be ruined the rest of the day and you didn't need that.
"i'm talking to you about it right? so obviously i wanna have the conversation now." she says with an atitutude in her tone and you snap.
"look kiara. i'm done with your bullshit ok? whatever the hell you need to get off your chest just fucking say it." you say rising your voice slightly.
she scoffs and then begins her rant, "i'm tired of seeing you flirt with them. it's so annoying and you know how I feel about it. and john b, jj? what happened to no pogue on pogue macking huh? it seems that rule just went out the window!" she yells back.
"Ok hermana, lemme stop you there. no pogue on pogue macking? that rule ended when you kissed them first at that stupid party kiara. then you just ditched them both completely like nothing happened and they did the same thing. When you had your stupid kook phase where you just up and left and fucking forgot all of us, that was cold." you yell.
"So yea maybe i did take the opportunity to try and explore my newfound feelings for the two boys I LITERALLY GREW UP WITH!? you love making this situation seem all about you and your fucking feelings kiara but that's bullshit. i had them first, there my boys! who were with me through everything! When my mom died, were you there? no! wanna know why? because you were too busy acting like a fucking stuck up, prissy kook to even notice!" you yell at her finally getting what you needed to get off your chest.
"No offense sarah..." you add quietly. she shakes her head as a 'none taken' gesture before looking back over to kiara.
"oh ¿por qué haces las cosas que haces? Oh, no lo sé, ¿probablemente porque puedo?" you say mocking her out of anger.
Translation: (oh why do you do the things you do? oh i don't know probably cause i can?!)
She sits there silently. "I bet 20 bucks you didn't even know my mother was dead." you say coldly before turning around to go sit at the bottom part of the boat.
20 minutes later john b and jj come down to comfort you.
"Hey bubs. you ok?" john b asks walking up to your laying figure and lays in front of you. jj gets on the bed behind you and grips your stomach while john b grips your waist.
your still in your shorts and bathing suit. jj's hands are warm on your bare stomach and john b's hands are toying with the back pocket of your shorts.
"really sorry about her. she just, she-" jj is cut off by you.
"she needs to chill the hell out. She needs to stop acting like i'm some girl that's obsessed with you guys when she's clearly the obsessed one!" you say cuddling into jonh b's chest a little more.
jj scoots closer to you, his crotch on your ass, you wiggle against him supposedly "trying to get comfortable" knowing damn well your just teasing.
john b notices what your doing and pulls your hips flush with his. "I'd stop moving if I were you sweetheart." john b says.
"yea, wouldn't want anything naughty to happen right?" jj whispers in your ear.
" 'm sorry, just wanna shut my brain off for a second. i'm so angry, can you help me?" you ask the both of them twisting onto your back to stare at both of them.
They both give each other this look before looking back at you and giving in. "ok cupcake what do ya want us to do?" jj asks, you look at him and smile tiredly.
"I want you to finger me, eat me out, you choose." you say pulling down your shorts and your bikini bottoms to reveal your already wet pussy.
"Damn bubs, that was kinda our job but hey i'll get to work." john b says kissing all down your body from your lips to your neck, down to your breasts until he reaches your thighs.
He parts your legs with his big, warm hands rubbing your thighs in just the right way to make you twitch. You grab onto his hair when his kisses start leading to your now soaking cunt.
"Are you a virgin cupcake? what? you saved your pretty pussy for us? how cute." jj says right next to you. He's kissing and sucking, leaving marks on your neck as he plays with your nipples to stimulate you.
you whine and nod your head lazily at how good it feels. jj chuckles beside you as he whispers dirty things in your ear to get you off.
John b's tongue is now on you eliciting a moan straight out of you. Your hands running through his curls. Your hips moving on their own to chase your orgasm that's building up (he was that good).
Your crying now, the feeling of john b's tongue and jj's fingers were a feeling of bliss and ecstasy. You wanted nothing more than to cream and cum all over john b's face.
jj's hands reach your clit at the perfect time, you clearly must have mumbled something about cumming but you were too drunk off the both of them to even notice.
your mush now, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and hitting you like a wave. your slowly sinking in to a lulling slumber as your fingers get tired of gripping john b's hair.
You whine out one last time before your out like a light. 'damn they really rubbed you the right way.' you thought once more before your asleep.
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Revelations at Club Consent…
(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem reader fanfiction)
Part 4
I had so much fun writing this! Hoping I’ve done the characters justice. No Alastor or smut this time, but he’ll be back in a few instalments. ;)
Pairing: Alastor x Fem Reader
Plot: You, Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb and Sir Pentious are out on the town. A little heart to heart with Angel Dust leaves you with questions…
Warnings: 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, suggestions of abuse, fluff.
Word count: 1k ish
It was Thursday night and the atmosphere in Consent was electric. The bass was pumping and the place was filled with couples (and throuples and…) leading each other off into the various rooms for some consensual fun. You, Angel Dust, Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb had decided that a night on the town was long overdue and Consent was usually your final pit stop. Alastor was doing one of his “late night broadcasts”, the first one in a long time. This only meant one thing; there would be some “new voices” on his show tonight…
“I can’t believe you aren’t fucking wasted yet Sir Pentious!” Cherri Bomb exclaimed loudly, leaning against the bar casually. “What can I say.” Sir Pentious hissed “I’m full of Sssirrr-Prises!” He exclaimed, laughing a little too hard at his own joke. “Right this calls for more shots and the only one that’ll fuck you guys up is the one named after yours truely! Hey bar keep!” Cherri said beckoning the heavily tattooed bar tender over, “eight Cherri Bombs please fella!”
“Coming right up Miss B!” the bartender shouted starting to gather up various dangerous looking liquors. “Wow a lot of people know Cherri Bomb” you thought to yourself. But she was one of the most exuberant heavy hitters in hell, so of course she would have a shot named after her.
Within minutes eight red flaming shots were lined up in front of you all. “Right bitches, you blow the flame out and then down in one! Try not to let it hit your tongue!” Cherri Bomb laughed downing the two shots with incredible speed. Sir Pentious was clearly out to impress so followed suit, a pained look crossed his face when he had finished the two rather large shots. You and Angel Dust took your time, the shot tasted like burning cough sweets. Not your cup of tea, but who’s saying no to a free drink? “Fuck I need to dance!” Exclaimed Cherri “whos comin?”
“Not tonight sweet cheeks, I’m gonna sit here looking cute and see if any of the boys over there will buy me a drink” Angel said gesturing towards a group of pretty guys in the corner. “Yeah not feeling it” you said cooly “I’ll keep Angel company. And out of trouble” you said elbowing him lightly in the side. “Looks like it’s just me and you, you snakey fuck!” Cherri shouted putting an arm round Sir Pentious “you comin?”
“Yes!” Sir Pentious exclaimed, far too excitedly. “I mean… Sounds fun” he said trying to tone it down. With that, the two bounded off to find a spot on the dance floor leaving you and Angel Dust together. “Hey hunny!” Angel Dust said waving his hand at the bartender “Can we have two Screaming Orgasms please sugar cakes?”. The bartender gave a cheeky grin, almost as if him and Angel had history… “So…” Angel began turning back to face you “How are things going with you and Tall, Dark and Creepy?” he said grinning cheekily with his head cocked to one side.
You tried to hide how taken aback you were from what Angel had just said. Had he noticed you and Alastor sneaking around? “What do you mean Angel?” You asked stuttering slightly.
“Oh c’mon toots, it’s hard not to notice. You and Alastor have been absent while the rest of the team has been altogether more times than I can count!” He said honestly. “And…” he reached out and brushed your hair away from your neck revealing bite marks and bruises. “There is no hiding them! But I do have some cream that can help with that, I used to use it all the time after a rough night with Valentino…” He said, his gaze suddenly seeming far away.
“Alastor…” You began, trying to get the words out of your suddenly seemingly drunken brain (dammit Cherri Bomb!) “He’s going through a rut… And for some reason he’s picked me to help relieve him…”
“Kinky!” Angel said wickedly, his eyes alight. The bartender placed two creamy cocktails in front of you “on the house” the bartender said winking at Alastor. “Thanks sweetheart” Angel purred before turning back and placing his hands on yours.
“But in all seriousness I only ask because I care about you, and we all know about the Radio Demon….” he said scowling. “Is he good to you? He isn’t hurting you is he?” His scowl turned to a look of concern. “Only if I want him to! Ha!” You exclaimed clinking your drink against his before taking a sip. “Oh God I’m pretty drunk” you thought. You tried to compose yourself, you didn’t want your friend to worry about you. “He’s very good to me Angel, yeah sure he’s been rough. But I like it… I don’t know what the future holds but he really is damn good to me” you said squeezing his hands between yours before letting out a hiccup. “Haha good, good…” Angel said nervously pushing your hands back down into your lap. “C’mon enough talk, let’s go dance!” Angel said downing his drink and pulling you towards the dance floor.
The dance floor was spinning and you boogied and pulled shapes like there was no tomorrow (hey it was hell, there might not be!) Angel was by your side the whole night, despite several beings trying to lure him away. He was such a good friend. “Y’know what Y/N?” he said trying to shout over the loud music. “What?!” You shouted drunkenly leaning into him. He put his arms around you and spoke into your ear “I’ve never heard of Alastor being in a rut, or ever seen him off with any girls or guys for that matter. Can’t say I’ve ever heard rumours of him on the dating scene either. Maybe you’re something special toots”.
Your drunken mind took a moment to comprehend Angel’s words before it suddenly had to take action “I need to go and ask him! I need innnnformation!” you said sloppily pulling away from Angel. You stumbled but luckily he caught you in his soft spidery arms. “Let’s get you home hun. You can talk to the scary red bitch tomorrow” he cooed leading you to the exit.
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