#silkholland dividers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

preeningpisces · 26 days

Text

♡ Too Sensitive - Part One ♡

Telling the JJK men you get too sensitive right before you cum and always have to stop, effectively ruining your orgasms.

Includes: Geto, Gojo, Nanami, and Toji Part Two

Content: cunnilingus, fingering, p-in-v, overstimulation, edging

Petnames: sweetheart, girl, good girl

18+ Content below, mdni, implied chubby f!reader - enjoy!

Geto is sly & coaxes you through it: the fact you need his help to do something so simple brings out his possessive side–he’s the only one that can make you cum, not even you can do it.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Such a needy girl,” Suguru looks all too-pleased as he strokes your clit, watching you closely. “Can’t even make yourself cum—you need me to do it for you.” Lost in the clouds you nod dumbly and sink into the couch. When you mentioned your problem offhandedly, you never expected your friend to offer a helping hand. In reality, you shouldn’t have been shocked. It’s in Suguru’s nature to step-in and help out--to take care of you. Apparently, your eyes slipped shut without notice, because Suguru pats your cheek–gently, but firm enough to wake you from your reverie. “Keep your eyes on me.”

After directing you to sit-up and face forward on the couch, he kneels on the floor between your legs. With eyes fixed on you, he lowers his mouth and lays a kiss on your chubby mound. Embarrassment floods through you, and it deepens when he mouths at your labia. He continues like this, kissing and sucking near your pussy, but not giving you what you really want.

“C’mon,” you pull on his hair, urging him to hurry. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Needy and demanding," he chuckles before trapping your clit with a harsh suck. Shocked, you yank on his hair and shout. Going from no touch at all to such intense focus is too much, too soon. Instinctively you try to pull his head away. He ignores it at first, but when you continue pushing at his forehead he detaches from your clit with a rough suck. Your wrists are captured, and guides them to the edge of the couch.

“Don’t move them, or I’ll have to tie you up,” he says with a wink and returns to your swollen clit–if he could leave a hickey there, his sucking is hard enough he would. The couch cushions crumble beneath your fingers, and your legs tremble when he doesn’t let up. You practically howl when he shakes his head back and forth, his hum buzzing through your pussy.

“God, I can’t take it, I can’t–I can’t” you ramble, alternating between rolling towards and away from his mouth. A smack to your thigh makes it wobble, and reminds you to watch him. The look in his eyes makes you burn as your end approaches, and now you frantically try to get away from him. “Suguru, stop!”

His lips twitch in amusement, and his hands keep you in place with a halting grip on your plush thighs. You come with a scream, and feel your pussy leak all over his face and couch. He groans against you as he soothes you with kitten licks, eyes never leaving your face as it succumbs to pleasure. Before you can fully unwind, he slides two fingers in you with a soft squelch and a sly smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

Gojo is playful & teases you through it: he’s excited by the challenge, and is confident he can get you to your orgasm without making it unpleasant. He’ll have you begging for more.

♡ ♡ ♡

Why you thought telling Satoru Gojo, the most obnoxious person you know, about your sex problems was a good idea, you still don’t know.

“Satoru fuck oooooff,” you whine as your hips jerk in a desperate search for more as he steps away from the bed. He has denied you an orgasm three times already. Not coming is standard for you, and you essentially edge yourself all the time, but he’s been clever enough to stop right before you get over-sensitive. Edging you before you edge yourself, if that makes sense, and it’s been driving you mad.

“You told me to stop, yeah? I thought it was ‘too much,’” he mocks your earlier plea and tone. It's true–you had told him you couldn’t handle it when you got close, and ever since then, he’s been tormenting you. His large hand skims over your stomach with a look of mischief. “Are you going to let me make you cum,” he squeezes the fat of your mound, “or are you gonna cry about it again?”

You shake your head, ready to endure any discomfort to finally release the heavy tension in your body.

“I’ll take it. Please make me cum–oh fuck!” Your plea is cut off with a squeal as he thrusts his cock into you. It stretches you deliciously; he grimaces with effort as he allows you to adjust. As soon as you beg him to start moving he sets a rapid pace, barely holding himself back. His thumb finds your raw clit, and flicks it with upward strokes, greedily watching his cock disappear.

“Holy shit, you’re tight,” he says through gritted teeth, and forces himself to slow his thrusts. He wants you to cum first, then cum again, and again before the night lets up. Instead of pulling out, he grinds his cock against your g-spot mercilessly in tandem with his thumb. You nearly scream when he presses his hand onto your squishy stomach, increasing the pressure against the tender area. “Oh, you really like that, don’t you?”

His smugness is as sexy as it is irritating, and you bite your tongue when the rush of nerves sets in, making you want to roll away and prevent him from touching you any further. But the thought of him teasing you all over again makes you quiet yourself, only whimpering behind closed lips. It doesn’t take much more for you to come, and cry out pathetically. Your pussy clamps around his cock so hard he falls foreward with a swear, and has to squeeze the base of his cock to prevent himself from joining you.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he lifts your hips in strong hands, and pulls back only to surge his cock back in. “Now hold on–we’re just getting started.”

Nanami is encouraging & soothes you through it: of course he wants you to cum, but he doesn’t want it to be unpleasant or cause you pain. He knows he needs to be mindful.

♡ ♡ ♡

Normally he would prefer to eat you out, but with how overwhelming this is for you, he needs his mouth free to talk. He has your back leaning against his chest as he traces steady, gentle circles on your clit, and languidly thrusts his fingers in you. During a discussion about incoporating sex into your relationship, you explained your issue with orgasming, and since then Kento swore he would make you cum everyday to make up for the lost time. Who knows how many times you've missed out in your life?

“It’s too much,” you whine against his mouth, your legs trying to shut and keep him away. Wet sounds fill the silence as he disregards your complaint. It surprises you that Kento isn’t listening and continues fingerfucking your pussy instead–he’s always such a respectful man, so the fact that he’s pushing you past your limits turns you on more than you’d expected.

“You’re alright, just a little more.” He eases his pace despite his words, not having the heart to ignore you completely; the way your pussy squeezes around him makes his cock throb and tempts him to go faster. A flash of heat burns your core when he spreads his fingers, scissoring them and stretching your pussy. You're hushed by his lips, kissing you slowly to keep you from floating away. A particularly sharp thrust to your g-spot makes you tear away from him with moan, and roll into his hand. Pleased with your compliance, he rewards you with kisses down your neck, and an affectionate nip to your shoulder. You wind your hand through his hair, holding him hostage with the crook of your arm.

"I'm going to speed up now, okay?" is the only warning you're given before he's gathering your wetness to glide over your clit with quick strokes; his fingers focusing on your g-spot with deliberate pulses. Suddenly your panting becomes frantic, and your body jerks with restless energy.

"Oooh god, slow down I--Kento!"

“Just breathe, sweetheart. You can do it.” The encouragement makes you still with a sob, the searing heat on your clit finally releases and you come so hard you distantly worry you’ll pass out. His delicate circling continues, but slows down considerably as he whispers praises in your ear. It takes everything within him to not roll you over and fuck you until you see stars. All he wants is to see your pretty face scrunch in pleasure again.

“Are you alright?" you nod, and he moves you to lie down. "Thank you for trusting me. I know that was hard,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, supporting your boneless body in his arms.

Toji is cocky & pushes you through it: he knows all you need is a little push–your mind just doesn’t have the willpower to keep going when it gets sensitive. Incompetent partners wouldn’t recognize an orgasm if it slapped them in the face & wouldn’t notice you didn’t cum. But thankfully, he sure as hell can fix that

♡ ♡ ♡

With alcohol-loosened lips, you lamented your struggle with orgasming to your colleauges, earning bewildered stares from the two men. Next thing you know, you're back in your hotel room with Toji’s head nestled between your thighs, making you jerk and convulse as he licks you down. With his tongue fat and flat, he grinds against your clit, making you feel the texture of his taste buds.

So eager he hadn't even undressed you: he just pushed you back on the bed, rolled your skirt up, and tore a hole in your pantyhose. It’s felt amazing thus far, you can feel yourself dripping on the bed, but anxiety prickles in your chest as your orgasm approaches. You worry that you’ll have to stop, make him upset that he couldn’t make you cum, and ruin the mood. Not to mention, sorely wound his ego--even though that thought amuses you, you wouldn't intentionally hurt him.

As if hearing your inner dilemma, your body lurches with a sudden surge of red-hot sensitivity, making you yelp and pull at his hair. Toji only hums, appreciating the rough treatment.

“I don’t know if I can do it. I’m s-sorry–ah!” Your thighs squeeze around his head, signaling for him to stop. The plea is ignored, and instead a thick arm pushes down against your soft stomach, pinning you in place. You thrash beneath his hold, but he doesn’t budge, and sucks your aching clit into his mouth with his tongue flicking relentlessly. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you’d notice how he grinds into the bed, and grunts against your pussy. When you keep protesting, he pulls away with an irritated glare.

"You can, and you will." His assertive confidence makes you tingle with nervous anticipation--he really isn't going to listen to you, is he? You don't have long to contemplate this because he licks you from your ass to your clit in one long swoop--which makes you squawk in disbelief--and rolls the bud between his lips before sucking more roughly than before.

Knowing exactly what you need, he pushes your mound up with his spare hand and hums around your clit noisily. It’s so intense you shout, and weakly slap at his shoulders as you’re shoved over the edge–only the sound of his slurping competes with you to fill the room.

After several moments of twitching and whimpering, your mind clears enough for you to look at him. At some point he had lowered your legs to sit back on his knees, and now stares at you with a cocky grin and a wet face.

“Atta girl,” he palms his bulge through his baggy pants. “Think you got another in you?”

784 notes · View notes

mandosaur · 11 months

Text

Anomaly 928B (Miguel O'hara / Reader)

Fandom: Across the Spider-Verse

Pairing: Miguel O'hara / Reader

Summary: “In hindsight, there had been five clues that had given away the fact that the man who had entered your home that night had not been your husband. The Miguel that had arrived amidst a thunder storm with clothing soaked through and a bizarre look was not the same one that had gone that morning to work. It had taken you some time to realize it, but slowly the truth was emerging past the haze of the lies you had been surrounded by.”

Warnings: Minor spoilers for the film, Major character death, allusions to gun violence, minor sexual content, angst.

Word Count: 6,213 Words

Estimated Reading Time: 22:35

In hindsight, there had been five clues that had given away the fact that the man who had entered your home that night had not been your husband. The Miguel that had arrived amidst a thunder storm with clothing soaked through and a bizarre look was not the same one that had gone that morning to work. It had taken you some time to realize it, but slowly the truth was emerging past the haze of the lies you had been surrounded by.

The first clue had happened the very night in question. The first night your life had completely changed.

Miguel had arrived early that afternoon with no lab coat and knocked on the door waiting for you to open it. Usually, your husband worked until your daughter Gaby had to go to bed and always returned with a briefcase full of files he would puzzle over at the kitchen table amidst reheated leftovers and a cup of coffee to keep him up through the night. That day you had especially expected him home much later because he was supposed to pick up some milk and rice from the bodega near his work place for a dessert you would make tomorrow.

Yet that evening, he had arrived in a simple jacket and with a new watch on his wrist. He had stepped through the door and caught Gaby as she had launched herself at his chest. She had wrapped her arms around him tightly and celebrated him getting off work early.

From your spot at the dining table, you had watched as your husband had briefly tensed in surprise at her greeting before slowly relaxing and setting her down. His eyes had swept through your apartment slowly as Gaby had tugged on his hand to bring him over to the dinner table.

You had smiled at him and kissed his cheek the way you always did when he came home and had seen the briefest flicker of surprise and grief on his face before he had schooled it into a neutral expression.

When you had inquired why he had come home so early and without the ingredients you had asked him for, he had explained he had finished up his latest project ahead of time and forgotten to swing by the store in his haste to make the subway on time.

He had tossed his jacket on the back of the chair at the end of the table and taken a seat there as he talked. Both you and Gaby had quietly stared when he sat down. Every day, Miguel sat at the chair closest to the window so he could read his files with the lights from outside and get some fresh air. He had never once deviated from that routine in all the years you had lived in your tiny apartment.

When you had playfully asked him if he wanted a change of scenery, he had blinked up at you in confusion before Gaby had chimed in. She was delighted to sit next to her dad for once with her own chair right next to his and was excited for his new spot. He had registered her words before making a noise and smiling.

It was raining, he had explained, and he didn’t feel like sitting near the window. He had playfully messed with Gaby’s hair and teased her about going back to his old spot if it made her happy. When your daughter had protested that she loved having him near, he had laughed brightly and the sound had set you at ease. Your momentary confusion forgotten amidst the bright sound of his amusement.

Your focus had then shifted towards dinner. You had made pollo en chipotle with your mother’s recipe and had offered Miguel more rice in exchange for the heat of the dish. Your husband often couldn’t keep up with the spice level of the food you and Gaby enjoyed which meant his plate had to have more sides to balance out the taste. You had handed him a plate teasingly asking if you should bring him a glass of milk while setting the pot at the center of the table for seconds if anyone wanted any.

To your surprise, Miguel had immediately dipped the ladle at the pot and added more of the sauce to his food silently. By the time he was finished, his chicken was all but drowned in chipotle and he made no complaints when he took the first bite.

You had thought he had been trying to rile you up by accepting your challenge and was suppressing his urge to cough or choke, but he had taken the next few spoonfuls silently as well. He had even smiled at you and complimented the meal while reminding Gaby to finish the rice she was already chasing around the plate with a spoon.

You had stared blankly at him as he finished half his plate without once asking for a drink or making a face. When he had caught you staring, he had reached over and fed you some of his rice with his spoon asking if everything was alright.

You had debated asking if his palette had been burned off or if he had suddenly developed an immunity to the spice before thinking better of it. In the end, the change in his spice tolerance hadn’t seemed important. You had silently resumed your dinner while listening to Gaby express her excitement about the new season of her soccer team.

After dinner, you and Miguel had sat on the couch while Gaby did her homework at the table. Miguel had clicked on the news and thrown an arm around your shoulders while you watched the news report.

It had seemed like a normal after dinner activity that you had only briefly reacted with relief when the reporter had talked about a robbery at the local bodega that had led to someone being shot. You had curled up further into his embrace and breathed out a quiet dios mío while being relieved Miguel had forgotten to go there after his shift. Had he gone, perhaps something terrible could have happened. Miguel quietly urged you not to think about it while holding you tighter to his frame. His grip had grown possessive and his eyes had scanned you and Gaby as if to reassure himself that you were both there.

At the time, your relief at his escape of a horrible fate had eclipsed any confusion or suspicion of the situation. You had pushed all thoughts of paranoia aside and elected to simply enjoy his closeness while not worrying over what could have been or should have been.

———————————————

The second clue had come a few days later. Miguel had told you he had taken some vacation time from work which was unusual. Often, your husband was a workaholic who needed to be persuaded to step away for a lunch break much less a vacation. Still, Miguel had woken up that morning and kissed you deeply while announcing that he was staying home for a few days with you and Gaby. When you had asked why, he had said he missed his family and wanted more time with you both.

You had been so full of happiness at his words that the bizarre nature of it all hadn’t really registered. He had plenty of time off and you had long been trying to get him to take some days. The fact that he was now listening to you was a relief.

Gaby had been even more excited to hear that he would be able to accompany her to her practices. Often, she only had you for company at the soccer field. It was exciting for her to finally have her dad there to cheering her on from the stands with the other parents who watched the friendlies. Miguel had decided the three of you would go to all her matches and would make a picnic at the park after. He had suggested making some sandwiches and promised to buy you both ice scream.

That morning he had been in a happy mood. In fact, ever since he had arrived in that thunder storm, he had been joyful. Where once he was more reserved and quiet, he now laughed and smiled. It was a beautiful sight and you had attributed it to him having less stress at work.

When he had gone into the kitchen, he had faltered looking for napkins. He had quietly opened cabinets full of cups and plates searching for them. At one point, he had even tossed open the oven full of pans in his search.

You had laughed at his confusion and asked if he had hit his head while going to the hallway to the small closet full of trash bags and napkins. Tossing him a roll, you had teased him about getting old and losing his memory.

He had taken a beat to respond and had smiled while quietly returning to his picnic preparation. Of course, you had, had to help him find the picnic basket too. He seldom could remember where he put things away and relied on you or Gaby for help finding stuff. Still, it had been rather odd that he had even forgotten that Gaby didn’t like the crust on her sandwiches and that you weren’t a fan of tomato on yours.

At the park, he had sat you at the front row and cheered on Gaby the entire match. It was a heart warning sight to see him so excited for your daughter. Gaby preened and blushed every time he called her name and some of the other parents grinned at his enthusiasm. It was nice for him to be able to see her play. Usually he only saw her matches if he was lucky and the game landed on a week where his workload was lessened.

After the game, the three of you had retreated to a quiet spot at the park and ate in silence. He had waved down the paletero who always drifted past the park and bought three ice cream cones from him. Gabby got vanilla like always and you selected a strawberry for yourself. However, when Miguel had reached for the rocky road, your eyes had widened and your hand had yanked his back with a shout. He had jumped at your fright and stared when you asked him if he was crazy.

Miguel was allergic to peanuts. It was a severe allergy which could put him in the hospital. Just eating a tiny piece of one could cause his throat to swell and hives to break out.

Miguel had listened to you berate him before looking away. You thought you had heard him swear under his breath about not being careful before he had bought a chocolate ice scream instead. His hand had come to rest around your shoulders and he had quietly explained that the chocolate ice cream was what he was going for. It was right next to the rocky road. He had thanked you for your concern but had assured you he wasn’t that forgetful.

In time, you had pushed aside your fear and felt embarrassed to have made a scene. The chocolate tub was close by. Why had you imagined him going for the one flavor he was allergic to?

Some time later, Gaby had asked for Miguel to carry her on his shoulders while you ate your ice cream. He had laughed when some of her ice cream had dripped on his face and merely moved his new watch aside to avoid it from getting messy. You had pulled out your phone and caught the moment on video with a grin. It was a lovely moment that was so rare with his busy schedule and the sweetness of it had made you forget how bizarre everything else was.

By the time you had made it back home, you hadn’t even questioned why Miguel had some trouble remembering your apartment number or why he had stopped at the keypad and quizzed Gaby to see if she paid attention and could remember the code. Your mind had been elsewhere and Gaby had insisted you read her a bedtime story that she fell asleep halfway through from the exhaustion. Perhaps you should have paid more attention then, but you were too trusting and too naive. The thought of anything amiss hadn’t occurred to you.

———————————————

The third clue came a week later. After Gaby had been put to bed, Miguel had come up behind you and kissed a line down your throat. His touches and nips had been indicative of his intentions and you had given in with your own form of excitement. The past few months had been dry. Miguel worked too late and you were often well asleep by the time he slipped into bed. You both hadn’t had much intimacy in a long while.

In fact, on the night that he had arrived home early, you had tried to seduce him but had been shut down. He had tensed with embarrassment when you had tried to initiate sex and had made an excuse about being too tired. He hadn’t expressed much interest until that particular afternoon.

The night had been much different than in the past. In the past, Miguel had been much more timid. The sex between you was typically just stolen moments with quiet breaths in fear that you would be too loud. It was soft and affectionate and calm.

That night, there had been a change. Miguel had been much more rough and demanding. He had kept you up and teased you through out the night. You had left some nail marks across his back and his fingers had left bruises on your hips and throat where he had held you over and over driving you down on his length. By the time the two of you had truly been exhausted, your body ached and shook with the exertion.

Miguel had nipped playfully at your throat and left marks. Amidst the haze of satisfaction, you could hear him whisper declarations of love and promises of not letting you or Gaby go “again.”

You weren’t quite sure what he had meant by that but you had told him you loved him back. He had helped you clean up then fished around for his things to take a shower. It was only after everything that you had realized he had never once taken his watch off.

You had stared quietly at the bizarre design trying to remember if you recognized it or could remember when he bought it. Still, sleep claimed you pretty quickly. You had been lost to it until a brief moment when he had returned from his shower and climbed in bed beside you.

Sometime near the early morning, he had kissed your lips gently and murmured another I love you. His hand had skimmed your side and you had felt his wet watch before he withdrew. Somewhere in the back of your sleep addled mind you had wondered why he hadn’t taken it off to shower but the thought had evaporated amidst the exhaustion.

The next few nights had been much of the same. You were intimate almost nightly and he had developed a new appetite that showed no signs of stopping. It was thrilling and exciting if not confusing. You reaped the rewards and stopped wondering why he wanted to try new positions or why his body seemed more muscular than you remembered.

———————————————

The fourth clue came after a few months. The three of you had been eating breakfast when Gaby’s cartoons had interrupted to discuss a sinkhole that had opened up nearby. The authorities seemed to have it under control but it was growing. You had listened with mild interest while Gaby had finished up her bowl of cereal.

Miguel had abruptly stood up and left his chilaquiles at the table. His fingers had flown to his watch and he had made an excuse. His jaw had been clenched tightly as he locked himself in the bathroom.

You thought you could hear the voice of his assistant Lyla as he hissed commands and seemed stressed. He had already explained to you that his watch was lent to him by his workplace and it had a direct line to her. You figured something had happened at work and shrugged when Gaby asked if sinkholes were common in New York.

That entire morning, Miguel had spent much of it watching the news and pacing the length of the apartment.

It hadn’t just been New York that had been having a problem, you realized. Several states had their own issues like bad crops in California and a catastrophic drought in Florida of all places. The more the reporter talked, the more it became apparent a lot of things were going on in the world. Some other countries were even having their own issues with a major earthquake in Cuba and a tsunami in Japan.

Miguel had turned off the news when Gaby had begun to grow nervous. He had reassured her quietly that nothing would happen and that he would protect you both. His eyes had taken a far away look as you watched him promise that you both would be safe and your stomach began to twist in nervousness although you tried to ignore your own fear.

After Gaby had gone off to play in her room, Miguel had quietly slipped out the fire escape. You found him leaning against the railing talking to his watch again. His back covered his arm but you could have sworn you saw the flickers of yellow as Lyla’s voice snapped things back at him.

Although you knew it was wrong to listen in, you still found yourself pressing near the wall. You were confused as to why he had been communicating with his coworkers again and again. He had been arguing often with them. Last week, he had, had a tense argument with another coworker named Jess.

You and Gaby had arrived from the store just in time to hear Miguel scream at Jess to leave him alone as she urged him to “come back” before something terrible happened. When you had asked what he had been fighting with her about, he had sagged against the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. The explanation you were offered was that his work was busy and his coworkers didn’t appreciate him taking more vacation days to spend time with family.

Now Miguel was upset again. You could hear him instruct Lyla to fix whatever problem they had at work and Lyla angrily fired back that she couldn’t. Whatever “mistake” Miguel was making was too big for her to correct. She kept warning him that his actions had consequences and already he was “disrupting” whatever the “balance” of the “canon” was.

Miguel finally ended the call with a slam of his watch against the rail when Lyla urged him again to “go back.” He swore in Spanish and put his head in his hands seeming lost.

You had debated pretending like you hadn’t overheard then given up and decided you might as well ask him what was wrong. Miguel didn’t even react when you joined him at the fire escape.

When you asked what had happened, he again told you it was a work thing and urged you not to worry. His watch flashed with the name JESS and he declined the call. She insisted a few more times before another name appeared on the screen. This time BEN tried contacting him before he shoved his hand in his pocket and pointedly ignored the messages.

You asked if he should go back and fix whatever error he had made at work and were startled when he growled out a “never. At the sight of your surprise, he had apologized. His arm had come around your waist in a possessive embrace and he had pressed you against his frame. His mouth had planted a kiss against your hair and you had sworn you felt him shaking against you.

Some silence had lapsed between the two of you as you watched New York slowly get ready for the workday. At some point, Miguel had quietly asked you a very bizarre question.

With his eyes seeming far away, he had asked if you ever thought about the universe and if other realities existed. You had given him a blank look wondering why on earth that had crossed his mind, but his thoughts had been far away. You got the sense that he wasn’t really with you at that moment mentally.

At some point, he had offered you a tired smile and sighed. The sound had broken your heart. He had sounded so exhausted and wearied that you had risked a look at his face and seen the dark circles under his eyes and the stress of whatever was happening.

Quietly, he had told you that he believed that other realities existed and that he was sure you and Gaby did too. He had seemed so heartbroken when he had mentioned the different realities that you two could exist in. He had mentioned having a nightmare in which you and Gaby had died. He trembled when he recounted almost in vivid detail how an attack had happened and he had been unable to save you both. How he had watched you both die and how a part of himself had died with you. How he had been an empty shell of a person and had felt hopeless and alone up until he had found you again. In his dream, there was another reality where you both were alive and with him. A reality where he had beaten death and been with you both. He had decided he liked that it reality better than the other one.

You had shivered briefly remembering the horrible events at the bodega for some reason and asked him not to tell you any more. You had held him close and reassured him that it was just a nightmare and that you and Gaby were fine. You were both safe and he would not lose either of you. It had all been just a terrible dream.

By the time he had finally recovered, he had merely leaned down to kiss you and apologized for his morbid thoughts. His fingers had stroked your cheek and he had quietly told you that he loved you and Gaby and would love you in every reality that existed.

You had stayed outside frowning to yourself even as he went back inside. A shiver had run down your spine and you were not quite sure what to make of everything. Some pieces of a puzzle were floating around you, but you had no idea what they meant or why they were important.

In the end, you had gone back inside and merely turned the news back on in time for the reporter to announce more freak accidents and bizarre natural events around the globe.

A few nights later, you would wake to the sound of Miguel at the fire escape again. This time, he was arguing with Jess who was pleading with him to return. She was talking about how Miguel’s “presence” was throwing off a “balance” of some sort and how the world was falling apart. You had frowned unable to make head or tails of the debate as the two threw out phrases you didn’t understand like “multiverse” and “glitches” in the context of their argument.

By the time Miguel had finally angrily told her to stop calling because he knew what he was doing, you had retreated back to your room and had decided to ask him about it in the morning.

Yet, when you brought the topic up, Miguel hadn’t even looked away from the news now announcing that the sinkhole in New York was growing wider and the mayor was declaring a mandatory evacuation around the affected area. Instead, he had quietly told you that you had been dreaming and feigned ignorance when you brought up the weird terms you had heard. You had been forced to drop it when he insisted over and over again that the conversation had never happened and left you questioning whether or not you had made it all up in your sleep.

———————————————

It wouldn’t be until the fifth and final clue that you realized how you had been right all along.

One morning days later, you had woken up to furious pounding on the door. Miguel had jumped up and demanded that you and Gaby stay inside. He had rushed off to meet whoever it was that demanded entry.

Gaby, half asleep had run to you scared. The loud knocks had woken her up and she asked if you knew who it was. Your own heart was racing when you said no.

Holding Gaby tightly, you had heard raised voices coming from the front door. A woman and man were in a screaming match with Miguel. The woman was telling him that enough was enough and that he had done irreparable damage to your universe. She sounded so frightened when she said everything was falling apart.

As if her words had been a prophecy, a tremor had gone through the entire apartment and Gaby had screamed. You had held her close frightened as another aftershock had quickly followed.

Miguel had burst in the room with the woman and man from before. You didn’t recognize either of them but they later introduced themselves as Jess and Ben. His coworkers that he had spent so much time fighting with.

Miguel had held Gaby as she shook from fright and wrapped a protective arm around you. He had promised everything would be okay and he would protect you both. Amidst his reassurances, you had caught the way his hands shook with fear and the panic he was trying so hard to suppress in his gaze.

By this point, the confusion had been so great that you had demanded to know what was happening. Nothing made sense and you got the sense that something was very wrong. It was terrifying.

The three of them had exchanged looks before Jess had told Miguel that if he didn’t tell the truth, she would. Her gaze was sympathetic but firm. In the end, Miguel had told you everything. Jess and Ben had taken Gaby to the living room to allow you both privacy. Once they were gone, the truth came flowing out amidst the wall of lies you had been surrounded by.

He wasn’t your Miguel, he had explained. He was from another dimension and he had powers. He was a superhero that had crossed into your world on his hunt for anomalies in the multiverse.

The explanation seemed so outlandish that you had begun to suspect that you were still dreaming. Still, you hadn’t interrupted as he continued.

Miguel told you that he was from a different reality and had intruded in yours. According to him, the two of you had been married in his reality and you had, had Gaby. You had been happy together and were even expecting a second child when tragedy struck. You and Gaby had died in an attack and he had been unable to stop it from happening. Even his powers had been useless in protecting you both.

Your deaths had destroyed him. He had spent a long time as a husk of himself. Existing merely for the sake of it and having nothing to make him feel alive. He had thought his life was doomed to mourning and loneliness when a “collider” had opened the multiverse.

He had taken it upon himself to save the multiverse and had traveled hunting anomalies when he had discovered your dimension. In your reality, you and your Miguel were married. You had Gaby and you were happy. Your Miguel wasn’t a superhero. He didn’t have the fate of the world on his shoulders and he didn’t have to risk his life every day. You both had a normal life and were a regular family living in New York.

He had envied his alter self and spent time researching your dimension mainly to see both you and Gaby when he had come across plans for the future. Lyla, his virtual assistant as he had explained, had found that your Miguel was destined to die. He was supposed to be in the bodega that night when a robber entered with a gun. An unexplainable urge would make him leave his work during a break with the idea to be at the bodega. The man who never took a break from work would find himself suddenly wanting to leave early and be at the store that night.

Two people would be shot. The owner of the bodega, an old man who had been frightened but would survive, and your Miguel who, despite not being a superhero, would be shot and killed trying to take the gun away. It was an event that the universe had decided would happen.

His death would destroy you and Gaby. You being a stay at home wife would mean that the loss of his paycheck would be a blow. You would struggle to find work and would eventually lose your apartment. Gaby would grow up with housing insecurity and poverty and you would suffer harassment and mistreatment in your desperation to hold a job and provide for your family. The happy life the two of you had built would be shattered.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. Miguel knew you and Gaby would need him, so he snuck into your dimension. When your Miguel died, he had hid his body. It was a simple thing, really. The bodega owner had been unconscious and he had knocked out the robber. By the time the police arrived, they would be convinced by the scene he had set to believe that the owner had been shot defending himself and the robber had been knocked out. The second gunshot people around the area had heard had likely been a misfire although the police wouldn’t find the impact anywhere in the store.

Miguel, not your Miguel but this Miguel, had them come home that night to you and Gaby. He had taken the place of the husband you had lost to protect you both. Gaby needed her father and you needed your husband. He had made it his mission to make you both happy.

But he hadn’t always gotten it right. Despite he and your Miguel being alters of the same person, there were differences between them. Your Miguel was allergic to peanuts and hated spicy food. He wasn’t. Those little discrepancies had made it harder for him to keep his cover.

And worse still, the universe had sensed him.

Everything that had been occurring had been because he was present in a reality that he didn’t belong in. The device on his wrist protected him from “glitching” as he called it, but it couldn’t do anything to stop the universe from falling apart. All of the natural disasters had been because the world was falling away brick by brick. Unknowingly, he had doomed the entire world and become an anomaly.

His story had been so ridiculous and insane that you had just stared at him blankly as he apologized and told you he loved you. When another tremor had shaken the building and photos on the walls had started to fall along with the plaster, Jess had knocked on the door telling the two of you it was too late. You all needed to evacuate.

Your body had gone into autopilot as you had followed after them outside. Neighbors from your building were beginning to evacuate as the high rise shook with more and more earthquakes. Miguel lifted a crying Gaby in his arms as Jess and Ben cleared a way through the swarm of people.

Outside, the view of New York was one you didn’t recognize. The sky was awash in bizarre colors and the ground was cracking with every new earthquake.

Jess and Ben were shouting things at Miguel. They were explaining that the sinkhole was growing wider and the universe was caving in on itself. Already some countries had flickered out of existence. Despite their best efforts, the team they had brought with them had been unable to stop the spread of the issues.

The panic in their faces had been clear. It was too late. Whatever hole in the fabric of time and space in your dimension Miguel had torn in intruding had widened and was consuming the world whole.

Jess and Ben left when buildings began to flicker. Entire high rises disappeared like glitches on a computer screen. The two of them were going to try and see if there was anything more that could be done to stop what was happening. The look Jess had on her face, however, made it clear they knew it was for naught.

Miguel held Gaby tightly as the two of you continued to run. In your wake you saw people flicker out of existence too. Panic spread through you and you grabbed his sleeve as you ran.

Perhaps you should have been angry, should have blamed him for destroying an entire world just to get you and Gaby back, but the fear and the shock of it all doused your anger. The only thing that mattered then in that moment was that your world was falling apart and your family was in danger.

Eventually, the three of you had skidded to a halt. In front of you, more objects were flickering and glitching. Gaby held on to Miguel tightly as she cried and you told Miguel to stop. It was over.

You pushed aside all of the negative emotions you were feeling, the betrayal, the heart ache, the pain, and instead embraced your family tightly.

This Miguel wasn’t your Miguel, but hadn’t he been yours for the past few months? Hadn’t you loved him the same and been happy at his side? Those questions kept you from angrily lashing out. A quiet sort of resignation had flooded you and kept you calm even as the bystanders near you began to disappear in a flash of colors and screams.

Miguel had been terrified as he saw more people die. He had called for Jess and Ben on his watch, but they were gone. They had evacuated back to their own dimensions the moment they had realized it was a lost cause. The only thing Lyla could offer him now was a quiet apology and a plea for him to go back to his own world.

His watch, you realized, would protect him from the end of the world. He was an anomaly in foreign space. Despite being the harbinger of doom for your dimension, he would be shielded by his watch and would be able to flee with a single tap on his wrist.

He had tried to take it off, perhaps intending to die with you both or to offer it to one of you just to try and save at least one, but you had firmly told him not to. It was too late. Your luck had run out. You had felt strangely accepting about it all and even Gaby’s tears had dried. The certainty of death had brought about a steady calm.

Despite knowing that the imposter in front of you had been the one to bring about your death, you still embraced him tightly and kissed him one last time. You still let Gaby hug him and bury her face in his chest. You still told him it would all be okay even as Gaby flickered and disappeared before your eyes.

And by the time it was your turn, you offered him a weak smile and another profession of love before the colors started to flicker and change around you.

Perhaps you should have hated him for lying to you. For minimizing your suspicions all of those months and making you feel like you were being paranoid. Perhaps you should have hated him for replacing your husband and lying to you over and over again. Perhaps you should have been furious that he had destroyed an entire universe to find you and Gaby, but a voice at the back of your head told you, you would have done the same for him. Had you been in his place, you would have traveled dimensions just to be by his side again. That was what truly loving someone meant.

So when a searing pain began to fill your senses and the glitching returned, you only said one last “I love you” before the world evaporated around you. Somewhere in the last dregs of consciousness you could hear Miguel screaming for you and Gaby, but the quiet darkness of death stole you away before you could do anything about it.

In the end, the man who was tasked with restoring anomalies had become an anomaly himself and the love he bore his family had doomed an entire dimension.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #across the spiderverse #cross posted on ao3 #divider by silkholland

736 notes · View notes

lanabenikosdoormat · 4 months

Text

swtor secret santa 2023!

hello @radetzkymarch !! i was your secret santa for this year! here’s your boy, looking all snug + cozy for the winter season :0) i love his design he is so cool <3

#I CAN FINALLY POST THIS THANK GOODDDDD #swtor #swtor secret santa 2023 #flayr harlock #i gave him a little silly winter outfit :0)#my art #dividers by silkholland

58 notes · View notes

imagine-knb · 7 months

Note

What costumes would Vorpal Swords, if they really really have to, wear for Halloween trick or treating?

What are you dressing up as for Halloween this year? I'm dressing up as the lamb from Cult of the Lamb (ó ꒳ ò✿) Admin Neon

Kuroko — Nigou

he's got the dog ears and tail and a collar and — oh, he just realized some people may take this the wrong way

but it's okay, because he's dressed Nigou up as a mini-Kuroko, so together the costume idea makes a lot of sense

Kagami — his favorite NBA player

he's really lazy when it comes to figuring out a costume, but luckily he already has a jersey hidden somewhere in his closet

as a bonus, Kagami is still able to play basketball in his costume without worrying about it hindering his movements

Kise — a zombie

he ropes his makeup artists from his modeling job into helping him with his SFX makeup — it ends up looking so grotesque

for once in his life, girls are not flocking to him because his costume is so scary, he wonders if he should do it more often

Aomine — health department employee

nothing about his costume looks like what he's supposed to be; in fact, it looks like he's just wearing a shirt and joggers (cheater!)

uses his costume as an excuse to "inspect" everyone else's candy and steal the pieces he deems "unsafe for consumption"

Midorima — Frankenstein's monster

Midorima is very adiment that he is Frankenstein's monster, not Frankenstein himself

gets thoroughly annoyed when people (Takao) make that common mistake and will go into a full rant as to why they are wrong

Murasakibara — a mummy

it was the easiest costume he could think of on such short notice because all he needed to do was wrap toilet paper around himself

by the end of the night, his costume is in shambles from constantly getting caught on things and tearing off

Akashi — a vampire

it was a classic costume that was always a crowd pleaser — that, and he could use the fancy dress shirt he already owned

Akashi takes off the plastic fangs halfway through the night because he keeps accidentally biting his tongue

#kuroko #kise #aomine #midorima #murasakibara #akashi #kagami #gom #vorpal swords #admin neon realizing that everytime someone asks for vorpal swords #i can technically also tag it as gom #but y'all testing the remembering part of my brain #I had to google who vorpal swords was #technically i watched the movie for the first time earlier this year #divider by silkholland

26 notes · View notes

xans-mindspace · 4 months

Text

hai haiiii ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა i’m xan & i’m fairly new to tumblr especially with posting (so i apologize if i don’t follow tumblr etiquette- pls give me a nudge cus i do wanna know).

ᡣ𐭩 — grayace bisexual

ᡣ𐭩 — transmasc (boyflux)

ᡣ𐭩 — infj 6(w5)94

ᡣ𐭩 — asian

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — ᡣ𐭩

i (will) write . . .

ᡣ𐭩 — gender neutral reader

ᡣ𐭩 — male reader (cis, and / or ftm / transmasc reader) esp if i’m feeling self indulgent lmao

ᡣ𐭩 — might write fem reader if requested !

ᡣ𐭩 — FLUFF. i love sappy cheesy cringy shit- it’s so fluffy it will suffocate you

ᡣ𐭩 — i will also write angst if i’m feeling destructive bc i’m actually really good at it !

i (will) write for . . .

ᡣ𐭩 — obey me (mainly the brothers)

ᡣ𐭩 — haikyuu!!

ᡣ𐭩 — spiderverse

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 — ᡣ𐭩

ᡣ𐭩 — i don’t accept requests , but if i’m sent them & it interests me , i might make a drabble / fic about it , so:

feel free to send requests , as long as you remember that i might , but there is no guarantee that i’ll turn it into a fic !

ᡣ𐭩 — don’t request nsfw !!!

ᡣ𐭩 — likes , comments & reblogs , they’re all very appreciated !!!

ᡣ𐭩 — do not put any of my work on any ai programs.

ᡣ𐭩 — i might be inactive for mental health reasons !

#—divider credit goes to @florietas ✧ @silkholland ✧ @plutism

4 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 3 months

Text

Dark and Light

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Word Count: Over 2.65k

Warnings: Threat of dubcon/noncon, minor character death, violence, canon divergent, captivity, brainwashing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: It's been almost 3 years since the last part of Soldat and Sparrow. Are you lovelies still interested? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @silkholland . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The cell they kept you in this time was larger than your last. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable. The thick gray walls surrounding you made the room suffocatingly quiet and hollow. You only knew the color thanks to the singular lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, too high for you to try and make a weapon out of the glass. Without windows, you didn't know it was dark or light outside.

There was no escape, but you couldn't give up hope.

It was maddening not knowing the time of day as you played the waiting game on the worn mattress in between meals and sleeping. The screams of your lover played on a morbid loop in your mind and you had to will yourself to not let tears surface. Other than temporary relief for your emotions and aching heart, crying would do you no good. It never did.

What you needed to do was focus.

The man on the bridge.

He triggered something inside of the Winter Soldier. Something Hydra wanted to keep locked away. But what was it?

Bucky. He called him Bucky. He knew him. But how?

Two hard knocks on the door pushed the thought away before it swung open. Narrowing your eyes as Brock walked in, you wondered if he could’ve been a good man in another life and fought for the people who needed it most the way he pretended to. This wasn’t that life though. He chose his side.

The wrong side.

“You know, I don’t get it,” he said, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t hide the lust from his eyes as he looked you over. “I mean, the Asset does his job well, but it’s like he forgets all about being a soldier when he’s deep in your pussy.”

“What can I say? I guess my pussy’s just that good,” you sneered, not in the mood for his taunts or anything else.

“Is that right? Maybe he should fuck your ass next to get the stick out of it,” he snapped back. “Or are you too stuck up for that?”

Pierce had a range of prostitutes lined up to satisfy his soldiers, but Brock didn’t hide how pissed off he was that you were “given” to the Asset after that fateful training day. He claimed it was special treatment. He dropped the issue almost as quickly as it was brought up, which led you to believe he was either reprimanded or given something to shut him up.

“Is that what bothers you, Rumlow? That I'd rather fuck him than you?” You asked, tilting your head as you regarded him. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll never want you.”

Brock clenched his fists as he took a step forward. “You really are a fucking-”

“Let her be,” a melodic voice ordered behind him, making you stiffen as he moved out of the way.

The doctor, or Doc as most called him, stepped into the room with a kind smile on his face. Unassuming in stature, you knew better from the start than to judge him by appearance. The man was a snake in the grass ready to spread his venom to unsuspecting victims.

“How are you?” He asked.

You kept your eyes on him as he moved closer, doing your best not to show any emotion. The doctor somehow made you more uncomfortable than Rumlow and that said something. “How do you think I'm doing?”

“Hmm. Not well, I'm sure.”

“You guessed correctly,” you said.

You didn’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he thought he was better than the others because he didn't physically hurt you. If anything, his indifference to the evil around him made it worse. It told you that he either justified or accepted it.

Either way, he disgusted you.

“Don't worry. You'll have the Soldat back soon and I’m sure you'll feel all better,” he assured you.

“You wiped him,” you reminded him, your voice cracking.

His screams echoed in your mind again, your heart aching as you tried to block it out. When pain knocked on the door, it didn't wait for an answer. It broke it down and made itself at home. But in the pain Hydra inflicted, the soldier found solace with you and you found the same with him. The light for each other within the darkness.

While you failed to protect him and couldn't stop what they did to his mind, you had to believe you’d help heal his soul once you had him back.

“We did indeed as we have many times.”

You knocked his hand away as he tried to place it on your shoulder, your stomach turning from his words. “Don't touch me.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back. “I mean no harm.”

“All of you mean harm,” you whispered.

The Soldat was your only bright spot in this nightmare. Ironic that he thought you were fire, bright and warm. The truth was you burned because of him. He was your eternal fuel that made the flames grow.

“I only want what is best for you,” Doc argued, his eyes void of any emotional depth behind his rimless glasses.

“Liar,” you whispered.

An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Now, now. I really do want what’s best for you. Don't you realize how important you are?”

“I'm not important,” you said. You never were. “Pierce made it clear that I don't have a purpose.”

But if that was the case, why were you still alive?

The doctor's chuckle made your blood run cold. “That's what he wants you to think. You see, the more they cut you down and make you question your worth, the easier it becomes for you to comply. Because by that point you’re so desperate for survival you'll do what is asked of you,” he explained, pushing his glasses up. “Yet you still only comply to an extent. It’s rather fascinating.”

He stared at you like you were a bug under a magnifying glass. And wasn’t that what you were to him? An experiment or something for him to study? “I haven't complied. I won't.”

“Oh, but you have,” Brock chimed in. You almost forgot he was still in the room. “Those missions you completed. The lives you took.”

Bile rose in your throat as images of violence and blood flashed in your mind. They would haunt you for the rest of your days. “No, I didn't want to hurt anyone.”

“Of course, you didn't. It’s as I said: desperation. You did what you had to do to survive,” the false sympathy from Doc grated on your nerves. “Don't let the weight of those souls wear you down. They were meaningless. But you? Oh, you are meant for more.”

He attempted to touch you again, but his hand moved toward your stomach this time instead of your shoulder. “I said don't touch me!” you snapped, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you. As much as you wanted to hurt him, Brock was still there and could do a lot of damage.

The doctor pressed his lips together before he smirked. “Pierce and Rumlow are right. You have a hold on him. Even with his programming and orders, it all comes back to you,” he said, your body going rigid. Where was he going with this? “And it’s you that we want to carry his child.”

Your stomach churned again, but you weren’t sure if it was more at the thought that he wanted to force a child on you or that he’d try and force your soldier to impregnate you. “Care to repeat that?”

“You’re going to carry his child. You’re going to give birth to the perfect soldier. And you’ll keep doing so,” he said slowly like you were a petulant child, standing tall and proud as your mouth fell open in horror. “You’re the perfect incubator.”

Your stomach sank as you looked between him and Brock, wishing it was a sick joke. “No, I won't.”

“You think you have a choice?” The doctor questioned nonchalantly, like he was asking what you wanted for dinner. “And do you think the Asset needs to remember exactly what you mean to him to fuck you? I guess we'll see if he does. Science versus instinct.”

The room became eerily silent as the doctor gave you his first genuine smile since he walked in. You struggled to get your bearings and process the words. That was why you were still alive. They were going to make you an incubator. Force your soldier to breed you. They would take another choice away from him. And raise your children in captivity.

In Hell on earth.

“Well, that shut the bitch up,” Brock chuckled.

Before you could think, you launched yourself from the bed. The doctor’s eyes widened as you tackled him to the ground, unable to brace himself as you landed the first blow to his face. You straddled his waist, the second hit knocking his glasses away as fury rushed through your veins like a wildfire. He didn’t try to fight you off.

You could’ve cried. Screamed. Anything to keep him from making his twisted plan a reality.

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you from hitting Doc a third time.

“I won’t kill you,” Brock said, your fist frozen in the air as you looked toward him. Your chest heaved as you stared down the barrel of the gun. “But I’ll make it hurt if you don’t get up.”

“Go ahead,” you said through clenched teeth.

The doctor coughed, but held up a hand. “No shooting,” he croaked as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “No harming her.”

Brock’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “She can still lie down and take a cock if-”

None of you could have foreseen the metal hand punching through the wall. Before you could blink, the hand closed around Brock’s shoulder and pulled him through, his cry of pain silenced almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. The doctor beneath you was long forgotten as you scrambled to your feet just in time to see your soldier step into the room through the hole, his face obscured by his typical mask and goggles.

But you felt his gaze on you as he stood like a dark angel ready to avenge you.

Hope launched into your chest like a shooting star as you smiled. “Soldat,” you whispered.

He came for you. Found you. But the star that filled your heart quickly faded when he didn’t move toward you or say “Sparrow”.

The dread grew stronger when he holstered his gun and took out his signature knife.

Was this the beginning of the end?

The doctor smiled as he wiped the blood from his lap and slowly stood up. “You really think he’s here to save you? Oh, no. He just doesn’t want any competition near his breeding partner,” he taunted as your eyes stung. “Back from your assignment early, Soldat? Good. Now you can complete your mission.”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head before he took a step forward.

You remained rooted to the spot, casting your fear that he’d force himself on you aside. “Bucky,” you said, using the name you heard. His real name. A tear rolled down your cheek when he flinched and tightened his fingers around the handle. “I’m not going to fight you. Or hurt you. Do you know why?”

Another step forward, your heart pounded as you stood as still as a statue. “Why?” He asked, the word clear to you through his mask.

The tears flowed freely as he stopped in front of you and slipped his goggles off, your heart breaking when he dispassionately looked at you. “Because I’m your Sparrow. Remember? My fire burns for you and you only,” you told him and pointed to your chest. You needed him to remember. “We swore we’d be free together. Somehow.”

“Don’t listen to her. Breed her and be done with it,” the doctor ordered.

The soldier’s brows furrowed before his metal hand came up around your neck, not squeezing or bringing you any harm.

But it felt like a warning.

“You won’t hurt me,” you breathed out, placing your hand on his arm as you kept your panic at bay. “They won’t break me. And I won’t leave you,” you promised, echoing his words when he took you the first time. “I’m yours.”

No matter what they forced him to do to you, he would never be to blame.

The doctor had the gall to smack the flesh arm when he made no move to shove you down on the bed or remove your clothes. “Finish your mission. Now.”

“It’s okay,” you mouthed.

Somehow, it would be okay.

“My mission…” the soldier began mechanically, not taking his eyes off you as he plunged the knife into the doctor’s jugular. You weren’t sure you could breathe. “Is to keep my Sparrow safe.”

An intake of air caught your sob as the metal hand fell away, the doctor collapsing as he tried in vain to stop the blood from leaving his body. It was useless. And a kinder death than he deserved.

“Hail,” he gurgled, his fingers stained red. “Hydra.”

“Just shut up and die,” you snapped as your soldier ripped his mask off. “Soldat,” you said, softer, almost crying all over again.

“Sparrow,” he whispered.

There was nothing gentle or sweet in the way pressed his lips to yours, but it was warm and safe as he pulled you against you. Your arms slipped around him as you returned the kiss, your cheeks still wet from crying. For a second there, you thought you’d lost him. For once, fate decided not to be cruel to you.

It brought you back together.

“I’m sorry I couldn't get to you sooner,” he said when he allowed you a moment to breathe, quickly scanning as much of you as he could. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay. I just thought…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “You came back to me.”

But how?

“I’ll always find you, Sparrow,” he said, touching your cheek as your heart swelled. “Steve helped me remember a lot of things. Including you.”

“The man on the bridge? You saw him again?” You asked before an alarm sounded, the blaring force echoing in the room.

“Yes. And his friend is sending reinforcements, so we need to go,” he said over the noise, nudging the doctor’s body with the toe of his boot before he stepped on his glasses.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Where could you go since you no longer had a home? You had so many questions, but understood that you’d have to wait for answers. Getting out of there in one piece was your priority.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered, fear flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you promised without hesitation. And anything else you had to offer him.

The next kiss was one of gentleness, relief, and thanks. “One thing before we leave.”

“What’s that?” You asked as he took your hand.

Love and determination filled his eyes as he glanced back at you and put a gun in your other hand. “We burn it down.”

You could hardly contain the fire inside you as you smiled. “Together.”

You didn’t know what the reinforcements would do or what would await you once you got out. It didn’t matter. Your soldier found his way back to you and you would follow wherever he went. The two of you would finally leave Hydra behind.

In a pile of rubble and ash.

But you’d find out soon enough that the man on the bridge wouldn't let your soldier go either.

I'll try not to let so much time pass before the next update. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

775 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

Borderline (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, jealousy, seemingly unrequited feelings, secret relationship, semi public sex, non canon ages, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @silkholland

summary: The three times you had sex with your best friend...and the one time you didn’t.

JJ’s hips pressed into yours, his bare chest brushing against your own with every thrust. His blond hair was damp from both water and sweat, not an unusual look for him, but seeing him from this angle? Yes, that was pretty unusual for you. You gasped when his cock hit a sensitive spot in you, clenching around him and pressing your fingers into his arm. The action made him hiss, and he leaned in to nip the skin of your chin with his teeth.

Having sex with your best friend in the back of your other friend’s van was not planned.

Ever.

You and JJ were as thick as thieves, and partners in crime were all you had ever been. Breaking into buildings together, jumping off of boats together, and even getting into fights together. If he couldn’t count on anyone to back up whatever stupid idea he’d concocted, JJ knew he could count on you. You were always happy to go along with whatever…except for this.

As he pressed a hand into your stomach, holding you down and in place to take his thrusts, you fought to remember how you’d gotten in this position in the first place. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to wrack your brain and think about what you’d been talking about only an hour ago. It was so hard to do with JJ pushing into you and making you lose your train of thought.

You’d been talking about some Pogue, some Pogue you’d been seeing and the way he’d practically begged you to take him back at the ice cream shop. He was nice enough and cute enough, but the relationship, if it could even be called that, hadn’t been going anywhere. JJ wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but he’d never done what he was supposed to a day in his life.

“That sounded awkward,” he’d said, glancing at you and taking his eyes off of the road. “Poor guy was basically offering his soul to get back together with you.”

You’d rolled your eyes, grumbling to yourself and annoyed with him for eavesdropping.

“You got the holy grail between those legs of yours or what?” he’d teased, poking your side with a chuckle and you’d slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be gross,” you’d complained. “Believe it or not, but I’m actually a great girlfriend, JJ. Sometimes people are sad to see me go.��

You hadn’t had the chance to hear his response because one of the front tires on the Twinkie blew, forcing JJ to pull off of the road and into the grass. Between his anger at discovering John B.’s lack of care to keep a spare tire and John B.’s anger at discovering JJ blew one, your ex had been the last thing on either of your minds then. At least, that was the case for you.

You were both sitting in the back of the van and waiting for John B. and Pope to show up with his dad’s truck and a tire when JJ brought it up again.

“Pervert comment aside, I was serious, you know.”

You’d turned to him, a questioning look in your eyes. Seeing that you had no idea what he was talking about, the blond had rolled his eyes, pushing his hair away from his face and trying to keep cool in this heat.

“Any guy you date always acts like it’s the end of the world when you break up with them,” he’d explained, and your mouth had fallen open in offense.

“That’s not true,” you’d scoffed. “I resent that.”

JJ had chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“It’s so true. We talk about it all the time,” he’d laughed.

You’d straightened at that, frowning at him. We? Did he mean ‘we’ as in him and your friends sans you? That was news that you found hard to believe, and you told him, and JJ shook his head.

“No, we do,” he’d drawled, half laying down with his head against the inside of the van and one leg bent. “Not all the time obviously, but sometimes to just laugh at the lovesick fools you leave in the dust.”

“You make me sound like some kind of man-eater,” you’d mumbled. “…and I’m not. I just… I don’t know.”

You’d shrugged, not liking this conversation.

“When I’m not happy, I leave. I’m not one of those people to stay just to say I have a boyfriend or something. Sorry,” you’d pointedly said, thinking hard about what he’d told you.

It was then that JJ could tell you were genuinely a little bothered, and he’d sat up, hurrying to move closer.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s meant to be funny,” he’d assured you. “We don’t mean anything by it.”

You knew that. It still didn’t stop it from bothering you a little though, wondering if that was how other people viewed you since your own friends did.

“I know you don’t,” you’d sighed. “I’m being silly, I know, but now you’re just making me rethink my methods, I guess.”

JJ huffed, scooting closer to you until his shoulder brushed yours.

“It’s not your methods we’re laughing at, I promise,” he’d lightly said, bumping your shoulder with his. “We just think it’s funny how you seem to give these guys the best time of their lives that they’re always ready to beg for you back on their knees.”

You’d given him a look at that, and JJ wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not talking to you about that,” you’d chuckled. “Who do you think I am? Pope?”

“I’m just saying,” he’d dragged out. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with any girl that had me down that bad.”

JJ was laughing to himself, and your smile fell a bit, eyeing him with a frown. You could feel it deepening the longer you stared at him, and you’d suddenly reared back a little.

“You sound almost curious,” you’d blurted out, a light laugh in your throat as you shook your head at him.

You knew that wasn’t true, but the thought had been funny, nonetheless. However, you hadn’t expected there to be any truth to that, let alone the actual truth.

“Maybe I am.”

JJ’s words had shocked you, making you freeze in place, and his even expression didn’t match your horrified frown, at all.

“Be serious,” you’d said after a while, feeling like you were in the midst of some elaborate joke.

Your best friend tilted his head at you, arms resting on his knees as he ran his gaze over your face.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

The lack of humor on JJ’s face had stumped you, and you blinked at him. For a moment, words escaped you, and the van felt entirely too small and entirely too quiet as you just stared at each other.

“JJ,” you’d slowly said, lightly hitting his arm. “Come on…”

He’d taken your hand, making your stomach drop, and your eyes widened as he fully turned to face you. There was a glint in his eye that you’d never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

“Come on what? I can’t be curious?” he wondered, voice dropping.

“No, you can’t,” you’d almost yelled, pulling your hand away and looking away in disbelief. “You’re my best friend. I bet you don’t wonder what John B. is like in bed.”

“I might! You don’t know that…”

You’d rolled your eyes at him, prepared to pretend this weird turn of events had never happened when you felt his fingers brushing your jaw. You had turned to face him in shock, eyes wide as he touched you with a gentleness that felt strange. JJ was your best friend, and his blue eyes were drinking you in in a way that felt suffocating.

“JJ…”

You could see him leaning in, and you hadn’t exactly done anything to stop it. In truth, you didn’t know why. JJ had never been anything but your best friend, never even tempted to think of him in that way. Finding out that wasn’t the case for him was shocking, sure, but not enough to keep you from pushing him away at the very least.

His lips brushing against yours had your heart skipping a beat, and for a few seconds, you didn’t kiss him back. You just sat there, letting him kiss you and getting the feel of his skin on yours in a way that was foreign. You’d blinked just as JJ deepened the kiss, clearly taking your lack of action as the okay, and you hadn’t been able to swallow down your gasp. When you hesitantly kissed him back, you’d felt JJ’s hand on the small of your back, the other fingering the strap of your top.

Everything after had been a mess of lips on lips, hands pulling at clothes, and finally skin on skin.

Your eyes flew open at a particularly hard thrust, JJ’s cock stretching you out so addictingly. Sweat clung to your skin, your clothes thrown somewhere in John B.’s van, and you couldn’t even find it in you to care about how hot it was. JJ’s hands were wrapped around your calves now, your feet pressed against his stomach as he slid into you over and over.

It was so hard to breathe for multiple reasons, but especially because you were having the best sex of your life and it was because of your best friend. The thought was enough to completely drag you out of the moment. It felt weird and good at the same time, and you couldn’t understand how that was. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty over making a mess of your friend’s vehicle, feeling yourself dripping around JJ and smearing down your skin.

You’d actually almost forgotten that your friends were on the way with help and another tire. You’d almost forgotten they existed entirely until you heard JJ’s phone vibrating. You were on top of him, now, hands pressed into his shoulder and pushing yourself down onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him and chasing your high.

“They said they’re down the street,” he panted, one hand pressed into your waist while the other held his phone. “They’re close.”

As he said that, you could feel yourself getting close too, and your eyes rolled as you circled your hips.

“Fuck,” JJ breathed, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you were too preoccupied with coming.

When you finally did, you literally froze, lips falling open and a choked moan escaping just as you felt JJ’s hands tighten on you. Your nails were pressing into his skin, but if the way he deeply moaned was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to care. You could feel him stilling too, twitching inside of you, and the feel had you shuddering.

He was lazily moving your hips over his as you milked him, and you literally whined when you were forced to move off of him. Your back met the floor of the van, and you stared up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. You could faintly hear JJ hurrying to get dressed, but you couldn’t move.

You’d just had sex with your best friend…and it was great.

You felt yourself frowning, a myriad of emotions washing over you as you tried to process this. It didn’t seem real, and yet, the evidence was quite literally on you and in you. JJ called your name, and you realized he’d called it several times. You looked at him as he put your clothes in your hand, hurrying to help you sit up, and you felt like you were in a daze.

“Hey, hey,” he said, touching your face and making you look into his eyes. “We gotta get dressed, okay?”

He was right, and yet that still didn’t stop you from running your eyes over him, drinking him in. He both looked and didn’t look like your best friend, and it was an odd thought to wrap your head around. You couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and deciding that now was not the time to analyze your actions and the ramifications of them, you got dressed.

“Fuck, baby…”

JJ’s breathless voice in your ear only made you wetter, and you pushed back to meet his thrusts.

It had been weeks, almost three months actually, since the incident. That was what you liked to call it because what else could you possibly refer to it as? How else would you identify the day in which JJ had convinced you to sleep with him in the back of the Twinkie? What could you possibly call the day in which you realized that JJ’s feelings about you weren’t always so platonic, and that sometimes, just sometimes, he was actually very curious about what his best friend was like in bed?

You had thought that it would be weird, disastrous even. You had actually cried yourself to sleep that same night, so scared that you’d made a huge mistake and that it would ruin your friendship with JJ forever. You’d told yourself that you should’ve spoken up, been the voice of reason when you were both careless and clearly delirious from heat.

After all, some moments of pleasure were never worth the loss of a friendship.

However, when JJ had shown up at your door the next morning, dressed and looking like his normal self as he offered to drive you to John B.’s like he often did, you got the sense that maybe you’d overreacted. Nothing about his words, tone, or expression had even hinted at what had taken place the previous day, and you’d actually frowned.

Somewhat dazed, you had nodded with a small okay, telling him you needed to get dressed. You had given him a strange look when he came inside, flopping on your couch and scrolling through his phone like everything was normal. Like shit was sweet.

Shit wasn’t sweet.

You and your best friend had quite literally rocked the van, and he was pretending like it never happened.

“Um…JJ,” you’d said when you followed him outside.

He’d been in the process of climbing onto his bike, and he’d turned to look at you, face inquiring. You had actually scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you just…going to pretend like yesterday never happened or…?”

He’d blinked at your words, features softening some as he climbed off of his bike. You’d swallowed at his close proximity, kind of unsure of how to act around him, now. He looked the same as he always did, but it was so different, now. You’d held that blond hair as he kissed down your frame. You’d looked into those blue eyes as he’d pinned you between him and the floor of the van. You’d held onto those arms as you came around each other.

You didn’t know how to pretend like you hadn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d want it to ruin our friendship,” he’d finally said.

“I don’t,” you had spoken up, straightening. “That’s the last thing I want, but…I don’t know. You’re pretending like it didn’t happen. Aren’t we going to at least talk about it?”

“…and say what? That it was great? That you were great?” he’d moved closer, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “…because you were.”

You’d swallowed at that, glancing away and feeling heated.

“Look, I know that it wasn’t your idea of how to spend the afternoon, and I just feel a little bad.”

You’d frowned at his confession.

“JJ, I’m an adult. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I could’ve said so,” you’d told him, shoulders sagging. “No…it definitely wasn’t my first choice of how to pass the time, but I don’t think I regret it. Not unless it’s going to make things weird…”

You were trying your hardest to prevent that from happening, and when JJ chuckled, you did too.

“We were friends, and we’re still friends. Just friends who had sex one afternoon in a hot van,” he’d said with a shrug.

The way he’d worded it had made you feel better, and you were relieved when he pulled you into a hug. After hugging him back, you’d happily climbed onto the back of his bike, writing the previous afternoon off as that weird day when you and JJ decided to have sex.

He was right, of course.

You and JJ were still the best of friends who just happened to fuck each other one time. Once you were around the rest of your friends, it was easy to relax and sink back into familiar dynamics. You were teasing each other and throwing things at each other and finishing each other’s sentences again in record time. While there’d been the stray thought or two that your friends would be able to tell what went down between you two, that had soon passed after about a week.

After a month, it really did seem like nothing even happened.

You couldn’t deny that it had crossed your mind on occasion. After all, it was hard to look at your best friend and ignore the fact that you’d had sex with him. It was usually a stray thought in passing, like a little reminder notification in your head, and sometimes it was accompanied by the afterthought that it was the best sex you’d had. That was still something you had a hard time grasping, but it wasn’t long before even that fact didn’t feel weird to you.

Nights at The Chateau and on boats had accumulated into literal months since that day. It was something that you really didn’t even think about, now. Not when JJ hugged you or when he pinched your side or even when he held you close with an arm around your neck. Why would you? Nothing about your friendship had changed, something you were beyond grateful for.

So, it was kind of a shock to you when JJ had cornered you against John B.’s fridge one evening.

You were getting something to drink, and you’d gasped when you felt a chin suddenly resting in the crook of your shoulder, a chest pressed to your back. He’d startled you more than anything, and JJ had laughed to himself at your reaction.

“Anything good in there?”

Your answer was on the tip of your tongue when you felt his hand on your waist, fingers kneading into your skin where your shirt had ridden up. You’d frowned to yourself, stomach twisting a bit before slowly pushing his hand away.

“Just the usual,” you’d dragged out, slipping from between him and the fridge.

You were making your way past him when he reached out, a finger hooking in your belt loop as he gently pulled you back. You’d given him an odd look as he pulled you closer, a nervous chuckle escaping. His blue eyes were fixated on you, and he’d pulled his lip between his teeth as your frown deepened.

“JJ…what are you doing?” you’d slowly asked, worriedly eyeing him.

Your question had made him pause, pressing his lips together as he stared at you. You’d watched him blink, his face pinching together just a tad before he’d let you go. If you had known better, you would’ve noted how reluctant he’d seemed to do so. The air had felt so weird as you studied him, and just like that, he’d chuckled and broke the spell.

You had watched him scratch the back of his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d confessed, shaking his head before brushing past you, throwing a small sorry over his shoulder.

That had been days ago, and as much as the interaction had concerned you, you’d forced yourself to let it go. You’d been glad you did because in the days that followed, it was like it’d never even happened…

…but then JJ had driven you home...and he’d gotten off of his bike with you, and before you’d been able to thank him…he’d kissed you.

So shocked by it, you had stumbled back, looking at him with wide eyes. It was hard to place the look on his face, like he was confused by his actions just as much as you were, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and gently taking your arm.

“JJ, what-?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he’d softly mumbled, moving closer as he pulled you closer. “I don’t know.”

He kept repeating that as he leaned in, kissing you again, and his breath was shaky as he did. You’d placed your hand on his chest, and he reached up, holding it there as he moved his mouth against yours. Before, you’d told yourself you should’ve been the voice of reason, recalling how scared you’d been that night that your friendship as you knew it was over. You didn’t want a repeat of that, nor did you want that to come true, and so you’d pulled back.

“JJ, we can’t-.”

“Why?” he’d breathed, licking his lips. “…because we’re friends?”

“Yes,” you’d slowly told him. “…and I want to stay friends.”

The desperation in his gaze threw you.

“We did it before, and we’re still friends…”

You’d faltered at that, looking away when JJ had forced you to look back at him. One of his hands slid down to your waist, trailing over your back and side, and you shuddered at the feel. You could hear how uneven his breathing was.

“I…haven’t really stopped thinking about that day,” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat.

“What? Y-you said…”

“I know what I said,” he blurted out. “I know, but…”

JJ leaned in, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again.

“I want you so bad,” he breathed against your lips. “You get me so hard, and you don’t even know it.”

All of this was overwhelming news to you, and when JJ deepened the kiss, you could feel yourself traveling back to that afternoon in the Twinkie. The voice of reason in your head was fighting against the heated feeling that was slowly consuming you. You were thinking of what his skin had felt like on yours, what his hands had felt like on you, and what he’d felt like inside of you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Never mind the fact that you and JJ were friends, but you weren’t this kind of girl. Casual sex was never and had never been your thing. You liked relationships, always had. You liked having boyfriends, and getting flowers and gifts, and having sex with someone you could call yours. You’d written that afternoon off as the one wild thing you’d do for the next three years.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

…and yet, you found yourself leaning on JJ’s bike, one leg raised with your knee resting on the seat as he pushed into you from behind. Your shorts were around one ankle, your underwear long ripped off, and JJ’s hands were curled into your hips as he dipped his cock into you.

You couldn’t even stop yourself from gasping and moaning, trembling at the feeling of him fucking you from this angle. The bike shook from his movements, and one of his hands moved to hold it steady. His lips grazed your ear, and despite the fact that he was literally inside of you, you were still supposed to be just friends, but the words he whispered didn’t indicate that, at all.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, cursing when he sank into you again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?”

You suddenly thought about that day at John B.’s, JJ’s weird behavior, and you frowned through the haze.

“Just wanted to feel you wrapped around me…choking me…sucking me dry…”

A high-pitched gasp escaped your lips, and you struggled to stay upright. The sound of skin slapping against skin could be heard in your yard, and you prayed to whoever was listening that your neighbors didn’t decide to get curious today of all days.

JJ’s free hand traveled along your frame. Kneading your waist, squeezing your breast, curling around your throat. It was too much, and to your surprise, you could feel yourself coming. If JJ was shocked too, he didn’t show it, fucking you through it and turning you into a babbling mess. You were so wet, the sound of it meeting your ears every time JJ pushed his cock into you, completely sheathing himself inside of your walls, determined to find his release there.

You were meeting him thrust for thrust, determined to come again. You felt like a woman possessed, fucking yourself onto him and squeezing his cock. You didn’t even care that you were fucking your best friend again, only concerned with wanting to feel him come inside of you. The aftermath was something you couldn’t focus on, right now, and you knew you’d come to regret that line of thinking. When JJ came, he came before you this time, spilling into you and pushing into you so hard it jostled his bike.

The feel of him coating your walls sent you over the edge, squeezing him so tight that he cursed over and over, hand tightening on your neck as you struggled to breathe. You saw stars, and unlike last time, there was no rush to get dressed. JJ remained inside of you for a while, just holding himself there and basking in the aftermath of what you just did…again.

When he finally did pull out, you weren’t as dazed this time.

Instead, you frowned.

You were still shaking as you pulled up your shorts, a million thoughts running through your head. What did this mean? What were you? Were you friends who just happened to have sex twice…or did JJ intend for this to be a regular thing? You couldn’t stomach the latter, knowing the kind of girl you were and hating yourself for going against what you knew you were comfortable with.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

One time could be a mistake, a lapse of judgement or just an afternoon of fun, never to be repeated. Twice? Twice was a choice on both your parts. JJ for making the move again, and you for allowing it. You stepped away from him when you were fully dressed, and you didn’t know what to say. You could still feel him in you, both figuratively and literally, cringing at the way he dripped out of you and into your shorts.

He was saying something about hanging out at Sarah’s place tomorrow, but you couldn’t really focus on it. You were too in your own head, but JJ didn’t seem to notice, leaning over to place a brief kiss to your lips before starting his bike. You watched him drive away, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…alone.

You sipped on your drink with a frown, heart clenching at the sight before you. The sound of partygoers would’ve normally been music to your ears, but all you wanted in this moment was some time with your own thoughts. That and to be far away from JJ Maybank.

Realizing your cup was now empty, you forced yourself to look away from the sight before you. You turned your back on blond and blonder, stumbling across the beach to get another drink. You almost tripped over your own feet and probably would have if it weren’t for Kie.

“Woah, hey! You okay…?”

She steadied you, and when you glanced up, the concern in her eyes was evident. You’d never been much of a drinker, and especially not to the point of inebriation, but you weren’t exactly yourself. You hadn’t felt like yourself for a while, now.

“I’m fine,” you told her, but it was a lie.

You weren’t fine.

You were in love with your best friend…and it was all his fault.

JJ had always been attractive. Even if that had never meant anything of consequence to you, you could still admit it. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and way too forgiving for his own good. He was always the life of the party, and he’d never failed to make you smile. He’d always been that way, so none of that was enough to make you fall for the guy, but then he had to go and start having sex with you.

Granted, it only happened twice, but twice was enough.

You weren’t a casual girl. You didn’t even know how to go about being a casual girl, and now that he’d added sex to your dynamic, it was hard to keep seeing him as your same best friend. It was hard not to stare, not to linger on the way his laugh traveled through the air or the way he shook his hair out of his face when it got wet. You’d found yourself drinking him in on more than one occasion when he was fixing his bike, swallowing at the sight of his stomach when he used his shirt to wipe his face.

In the months since the last time you’d had sex, it had snuck up on you.

You felt more excited to see him more than any of your other friends. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, and when you weren’t with him, you’d absentmindedly wonder what he was doing…and who he was doing it with. The thought always made your stomach turn, and you’d get the feeling like you’d be sick.

Like now, for example.

You poured yourself another drink, frowning at how close he and some girl were standing. They hadn’t stopped smiling since they met, and you wondered to yourself just what was so damn funny. You blinked back tears as you downed the drink in seconds, quickly getting another. You ignored Kie’s voice as you disappeared into the crowd, wanting to be as far away from JJ as possible.

You felt so stupid…because you knew this would happen.

You knew yourself, and you knew this would happen, but no. You just had to listen to JJ and let him in your head and convince you that everything would remain the same. Now, here you were, months later and dreaming about and sulking over your best friend. Every time he so much as touched you these days, it was almost enough to do you in. You were torn between feeling grateful you hadn’t had sex with him again since that evening in your yard or feeling sad that you hadn’t.

“Woah, hey, where…where are you going?” John B. wondered as you moved past him and Sarah.

“Home,” was all you said.

You could hear footsteps behind you, and you grumbled when the brunette stopped you.

“Like this? Y/N, you’re so drunk,” Sarah said from beside him, reaching for your drink.

You gave her a look as you held it out of reach, daring her to try and take it. She threw John B. a pleading look, and he sighed.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t we all just call it a night, and you can crash at my place…”

You both loved and hated the sound of that, but your desire to collapse and cry yourself to sleep won. You reluctantly nodded, allowing Sarah to take your hand as John B. disappeared behind you. You weren’t in a talkative mood, and you were so glad that Sarah respected that. She was helping you into the van when you heard the last voice you wanted to hear.

“Why did you let her drink that much?”

“I’m not a child,” you answered before John B. could.

Everyone seemed shocked at your tone, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, opting to lie down. You closed your eyes, ignoring everyone until you felt a jacket being placed on you. The smell of it was familiar, and you didn’t even open your eyes as you shook it off.

“Y/N, it’s like 60 degrees-.”

“Why are you even here?” you wondered, opening your eyes and fixing your gaze on JJ. “What happened to your girl of the night?”

The blond didn’t respond right away, looking at you strangely, and for a moment, you almost thought he could see right through you. It made your heart skip a beat, and he slowly shook his head.

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t anything. Besides, even if it was, you’re drunk,” he said, like you were more important or something.

You rolled your eyes at that, closing them and forcing back tears.

This wasn’t like you. At all. You didn’t cry over guys and get so drunk you could barely stand and snap at your friends. JJ was turning you into someone you didn’t recognize, and you hated it. A year ago, your friendship was as strong as it could’ve been, and now…now you could barely look at him. Before, you wouldn’t have even given a second glance to JJ and some girl, but now the thought was almost enough to send you spiraling.

Why did JJ even have sex with you in the first place?

Everything was fine.

When you blinked, you took in the change of scenery, and it wasn’t hard to guess that you’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way. You were in a familiar living room, and you didn’t need to sit up to know you were on a familiar couch. How you got there was a mystery, and you could faintly hear the voices of your friends from down by the water.

You wouldn’t be joining them, preferring to isolate yourself, and the thought made your eyes water. This thing with JJ was even affecting your other friendships, and you sniffed, sitting up. Your mouth felt so dry, and you were just about to journey to find some water when you were startled.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

You jumped at the familiar voice, and you pressed your hand to your chest. You hadn’t even noticed JJ to your left, lounging in the dark like some creeper. You didn’t answer him, simply huffing and attempting to stand. You probably would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for the blond.

“Nothing is wrong-.”

“I don’t think I can ever remember a time when you were drunk…especially this drunk.”

“Why do you care?” you loudly wondered.

You didn’t miss the frown that covered his features, and you knew you were being a bitch. JJ was your best friend…of course he cared, but you were so lovesick and frustrated and drunk and angry that you weren’t thinking straight. Sleeping with JJ had changed too much for you because now you wanted him to care about you the same way you cared about him…and because he didn’t…sometimes it felt like he didn’t care, at all.

…and that wasn’t true.

“Of course, I care,” he softly said, forcing you to sit down.

He sat down with you.

“You’re my best friend…”

Those words had you closing your eyes, and you couldn’t stop your head from dropping.

“Hey…” you felt his hands on you. “What’s wrong?”

You could only shake your head, and you felt his hands on your face, now.

“JJ…”

You always told each other everything, but your relationship with him was so different, now, and you genuinely didn’t know how he’d react if you told him the truth. You didn’t think you could take it if he got that look on his face, the one where he looked both sheepish and in pain all at once, before telling you he didn’t feel the same. You knew it was true, but you couldn’t handle it if he told you outright he’d only wanted you for sex.

In your drunken state, you couldn’t handle that…so you kissed him instead.

If JJ was surprised, you couldn’t tell. Especially not with the way his hands tightened on your face. The presence of your friends right outside and down by the water was so far from your mind. Your drunken brain could only focus on JJ’s hands running down your sides and pulling at your dress. He seemed just as eager to be inside of you as you were to feel him there. You let out a sharp moan when his fingers brushed over you, and the blond shushed you.

“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, fumbling to release himself.

You pulled on his shirt as you laid down, pulling him on top of you, and you shuddered when you felt the tip of him poking against you. He was so hard already, and your heart clenched as you wondered if that was for you or leftover from her. JJ’s lips were hungry against yours as he reached down to push your panties to the side.

Your mouth parted into an O shape against his lips as he slowly pushed into you. It had been months since he’d stretched you out this good, and you almost couldn’t contain yourself. When he was fully inside, hips firmly pressed to yours, he held himself there for a while. It was as if he was basking in something he’d missed too, and you were too impatient, lifting your hips against his and letting out a small whine.

At that, JJ pressed his hand to your mouth before pulling his hips back. Only the tip of him remained inside of you before he surged forward, pushing into you with a force that made your eyes roll. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, and you breathed through your nose.

Every push of his cock had you shuddering and clenching around him, missing this and him so much. You felt so full when JJ was fucking you, more than you had with any of your previous boyfriends and the thought had you faltering.

JJ wasn’t your boyfriend.

He never would be, and as he fucked you against John B.’s couch, a few tears escaped. You wanted him to be, but this was just sex. That had been established since the beginning, and it was your fault for giving into something you knew you weren’t cut out for.

You felt like you couldn’t get close enough to JJ, wrapping your legs around him and lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. His fingers were digging into you and holding you so tight there was no doubt they’d bruise. His face was in the crook of your neck as he curved his hips into yours, breathing labored as he stuffed you full of his cock.

When he lifted his head, he removed his hand, kissing you on the lips before his lips traveled to your cheek and then jaw and then neck. He was kissing you and tasting you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering at the words that escaped his lips.

“You feel just like heaven,” he breathed. “You always do.”

You softly moaned his name, wrapping your arms around him and holding onto him.

“Always keep this pretty pussy nice and tight just for me,” he mumbled. “…always fit me so perfectly.”

He was murmuring incoherently, fucking you and kissing you and biting you. You could hear the squelch of him plunging into you, gasping as he hit something inside of you that made your back arch and toes curl. You were so drunk and he felt so good and you were on cloud 9.

“JJ…” you breathed. “I have… I have to tell…”

You trailed off, sinking your teeth into your lip to swallow down a moan. You were shaking beneath him, legs falling from around him, now as you let him fuck you. You moved your hand, reaching under his shirt too run your fingers across his torso.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, head thrown back as he grinded against you. “JJ, I have to tell you something.”

He cursed, looking down to where he disappeared into you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slowly pushing into you. “You can tell me tomorrow.”

You wanted to tell him, now, but you could feel yourself hurdling towards the edge, and your drunken brain was too focused on trying to remain quiet. JJ’s hand covered your mouth again as he felt you getting close, his face buried into your neck as he became determined to make you come.

You kept your eyes on your drink, the same drink you’d had for the better part of an hour. Ever since that night a few weeks ago, you’d been kind of scared of alcohol, and ever since that night days ago, you’d been scared of JJ. Not genuinely, of course, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be around him and act the same around him.

You still remembered the feel of his hand on your waist in the water. Everyone else had gone inside, oblivious to your pleading gaze as the last thing you wanted was to be alone with JJ. Not because you were afraid you’d have sex with him again, but because of the opposite.

Waking up alone and still in your clothes from the previous night on John B.’s couch hadn’t made you feel as worse as knowing that you’d had sex with JJ again, and this time, you were the one to initiate it. The level of disappointment you’d felt had been astronomical, and you’d wanted to cry for being so weak and pathetic and cowardly.

You’d had sex because it was easier than telling him you were in love with him.

It was easier than facing rejection.

You’d officially hit rock bottom, and it was that morning that you’d decided something had to give. You’d gone straight home to shower, and you’d developed some resolve by the time you got out, telling yourself that this couldn’t go on like this forever.

Seeing JJ after that third night had definitely felt like a punch to the gut, but you told yourself you needed to get over this. He acted the same as he always had, you guessed, and you swallowed down any feelings that arose when he hugged you or grabbed you. You reminded yourself that once upon a time, you’d felt nothing at all at his touch, and that it needed to be that way again.

You’d been mentally preparing yourself to have the inevitable talk whenever that came up again.

You hadn’t expected to have it so soon.

Before, where there’d been literal months in between, this time, it was only mere weeks. His hand on your waist in the water after everyone else had gone inside had startled you, and while the sight of his wolfish grin did elicit butterflies, it also made your stomach churn in a negative way too. It was hard to miss the slight from on JJ’s face when you’d pulled away.

You’d been able to hear him following you to the edge and out of the water.

“What’s wrong?” he’d wondered, and you’d swallowed, slightly miffed because you thought you’d had more time.

JJ had never wanted to have sex again so soon, and you didn’t want to linger on what that could mean. It was just sex to him, anyway, and you didn’t doubt that he’d be disappointed, but you knew he’d get over it. For the sake of your friendship, you both needed to get over it.

“I don’t really want to do that anymore, JJ,” you’d slowly murmured, grabbing your towel.

The silence that met you was loud, and when you looked over, you confirmed that he was deeply frowning at you. It was hard to place the look on his face, but the surprise was easy enough to spot, and you wrapped your towel around you as he came near. Water dripped from his blond hair and down his face and onto his chest.

“I don’t… I don’t get it,” he lightly chuckled, but it lacked humor. “I thought everything was fine. Did I do something-?”

“No,” you had assured him, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, trust me.”

You’d watched him run his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he studied you. His blue eyes hadn’t looked so warm then, and he’d scoffed.

“The old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing, huh,” he’d drawled, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are…”

“Then why aren’t you being honest?”

“I am,” you’d firmly told him. “I don’t want that anymore, JJ.”

You’d shrugged, glancing away.

“It was fun…sure, but we knew it couldn’t last and…”

“That’s the best you’ve got?” he’d wondered, tilting his head. “It couldn’t last so might as well end it, now, right?”

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said that he was angry, and his reaction confused you. You’d shaken your head at him, holding your towel around him.

“Why does it matter? It’s just sex to you, right?”

JJ had blinked at that, like he’d forgotten that, and you’d pulled your lip between your teeth. The whole ordeal was hard enough, and you hadn’t understood why JJ was making it harder. When he hadn’t said anything more, only nodding, you’d finally decided to join your friends inside.

That had been days ago, and your hopes that things would go back to normal had been squashed when JJ had been giving you the equivalent of the cold shoulder ever since. He wasn’t cruel, of course, and it certainly wasn’t noticeable by anyone else…but you knew.

You knew it in the way he didn’t direct his jokes towards you or in the way he didn’t hug you anymore or how he didn’t even offer to drive you home. It was little changes that completely flipped what you knew of your friendship, and it had taken you by surprise.

…because JJ was mad at you.

…and you didn’t know why.

Your friendship had wound up in the one place you hadn’t wanted it to be, and more than you ever had before, you desperately wished you had never slept with him in the first place. Here you were, at a party and fighting with your best friend, only you couldn’t understand why. To add insult to injury, you had to leave your other friends in the dark about it. You couldn’t even imagine taking it from the top with them, dreading to hear Pope go on a whole ‘I told you so’ rant about Pogue on Pogue macking.

Feeling utterly alone and filled with regret, you decided to just cut your losses and go home.

You wondered if JJ took the whole thing personally, like it was specifically him you were rejecting and not the casual sex of it all. Surely, he had to understand that this whole thing should’ve never started to begin with. Had things been so peachy from his side? Had he had none of these thoughts, none of these doubts about what you were doing? At all? You found it hard to believe, and then you remembered Kie saying something once about men being simple creatures.

Maybe JJ really had thought that everything was perfect, and why wouldn’t he? He could sleep around with whoever he wanted and still turn around and get it from you too. From his point of view, he was probably on top of the world.

You were halfway to your house when you heard it, the sound of a bike, and you really didn’t think much of it until it started to slow. Looking over, the last person you expected to pull up beside you was JJ, and you paused. You eyed him as he stopped, and you watched his shoulders heave with a heavy sigh.

“Hop on,” he said.

You opened your mouth to say something when he continued.

“It’s late and…you shouldn’t be walking home…”

He wouldn’t look at you, and you found his behavior so odd. Still, as weird as he was being, he was right. It was late, and no matter how much of a weird place your friendship was in, you weren’t going to turn down his offer to take you home.

You swallowed at the feel of wrapping your arms around him. It reminded you of both the simpler times of your friendship, and the more complicated where your feelings for him were literally making you miserable. When he parked at your house, you were surprised to see him getting off the bike too, and you eyed him, watching him sigh again before looking away with a taut jaw.

“Can I come in?”

You blinked, taken aback, but unable to refuse.

“Of course,” you softly told him.

You had a feeling this conversation wouldn’t be light, and you wondered if you should play pretend at first and offer something to eat or if you should just tell him to get right to it. You turned to face him just as he locked the door, and you blinked at him.

JJ looked…troubled as he leaned against the door, just frowning at you.

“I don’t…I don’t want to break it off…”

That admission didn’t really shock you, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you mumbled, recalling his reaction that day.

“I thought things were good,” he quietly said.

“For you, maybe,” you scoffed. “Not for me…”

You crossed your arms over your chest, plopping down onto your couch.

“So, that’s it,” he said it more like a statement than a question. “Just like that you decide its over.”

You swallowed down the words you really wanted to say, confessing to him how you felt, but you knew it would only hurt you. You reached up, rubbing your temples as you stood. JJ was still leaning against the door, staring you down, and you shook your head.

“I don’t understand this, JJ,” you whispered. “You can and do sleep with whoever you want. Why does it matter that I don’t want that to be me anymore?”

“…because the thought of you sleeping with anyone else makes me sick,” he sneered, shocking you.

The vitriol and malice in his tone had your eyes widening, and before your eyes, it was like a mask dropped, revealing the angry guy underneath. You scoffed, glancing away with a shake of your head.

“We’re not together, JJ,” you slowly started. “…and besides you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon.”

Only God knew how long it would take you to get over your best friend, but as he approached you, you wondered if that day would come sooner rather than later. You gasped at the way he grabbed your arm, and again, there was that troubled look in JJ’s eyes, like his own actions shocked you just as much as they shocked him.

“I didn’t…”

His voice was quiet, and he trailed off, releasing a shaky breath through his nose as he stared at you. You watched his blue eyes rake over you, drinking you in and studying everything about you. You watched his face fall some, and he stepped closer. His hold on you kept you from taking one back.

“I thought I could sleep with you and that would be it,” he started, huffing to himself. “I didn’t know I’d be thinking about you almost every day since…fighting the urge to fuck you in front of all out friends…”

Your eyes widened.

“I didn’t think I’d drive myself crazy thinking about the day you finally got another boyfriend, and you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t be mine anymore.”

You were at a loss for words, somehow both hearing what you wanted and what you didn’t.

“I tried to just let it go, fight it, but I couldn’t…and I…I had to have you again, and I tried to fight it again, and then you…you kissed me this time,” he said through clenched teeth. “You wanted me and then you just broke it off.”

You furiously blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, but JJ kept talking.

“I wanted to break something. I wanted to break someone’s neck,” he spat, moving closer. “Now, that I’ve had you… I don’t think I can just let you go.”

Both of his hands were on your arms, now, and you pressed your hands to his chest.

“JJ, wait-.”

He swallowed your words, kissing you, and any fight against him was futile. Your mind was trying to make sense of this turn of events. There wasn’t anything to be happy about because you didn’t know if JJ actually felt something for you, or if this was pure possessiveness. Ownership. You wanted to talk about this, but the way he ignored your protests and resistance had you rethinking everything.

JJ wouldn’t let you get a word in, keeping his lips on yours, and you yelped into his mouth when he tore at your shirt. You sucked in air when you turned your head away, pushing against him.

“JJ, stop-! What are you…?”

You gasped when he shoved you onto the couch, and you felt like you were having an out of body experience. The very same best friend that you loved was pinning you beneath him, pulling your skirt down because you dared to put a stop to whatever this casual fling was.

Any thoughts entertaining the revelation that maybe he actually felt the same way this whole time was gone. This wasn’t love. This was about a guy feeling like you owed him something, owed him a part of you, and you yelped in pain when his teeth sank into your chest.

“JJ, stop,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against his face.

“Why? Huh?” he wondered, hovering over you and holding you down.

His blond hair hung into his face, and his blue eyes were hard, staring you down like you’d done something wrong.

“So things can go back to the way they were before we slept together? If I say I don’t want that then what?”

You sniffed, trying to close your legs, but it didn’t prevent him from pushing into you, stretching you out in a way that was so familiar. You shuddered at the feel, and JJ pressed his tongue to the inside of his lip, watching himself slowly disappear into you.

“You don’t have half a clue what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning down and pinning you beneath him. “You don’t even get how you’ve ruined me for anybody else.”

He snapped his hips against yours, a harsh grunt leaving him, and you gasped. One of his hands had your wrists pinned to your stomach, the other forearm was pressed into the couch beside your head, holding himself up so that he could alternate between looking at your face and looking down to where you two connected.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his lips over yours. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

You turned your head away.

“I can’t let you end this.”

Your face crumbled at that, wondering if you’d just told him how you felt, if it would have ever come to this. Then again, it was better to know what JJ was really like, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it better to know that he wasn’t the sweet and caring guy you always thought he was? Surely, it had to be better to know that he was capable of anything under the right circumstances too.

That was what you told yourself, but as he plunged into you, sliding his cock into your now slick walls, you almost wished you’d remained in blissful ignorance. As you shuddered beneath him, you wondered if this was where you would’ve wound up eventually even if you had refused him that day in the van.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly thrusting into you and forcing a whine to climb out of your throat. “Just imagine…”

He pushed into you to the hilt, holding himself there and reaching up to brush his fingers along your jaw.

“If you had never shown me what I was missing.”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx #obx fanfiction #jj maybank imagine

1K notes · View notes

bangaveragewhitewine · 7 months

Text

soft slow, morning glow

Steve Harrington x Reader

A prosaic peek at Steve Harrington’s inability to sleep in and stay in bed and his reasons for changing his ways.

October 1997; a cosy easy morning, where kisses are shared and ABBA songs are sung as a lullaby.

Word count: 4.3K

Content/Warnings: TW for talk of bleeding during pregnancy, borderline neglectful parents.

Mention of sex (18+), not explicit. This contains dad!Steve & mom! reader toward the end; pregnant reader. Kinda rambling. Very soft. Low angst (but not none).

Note: Thank you to my ST rewatch for making me fall for Steve all over again.

Proofread by @specialagentmonkey | Divider by @silkholland

Steve Harrington was always an early riser.

As a honey-haired little boy, he spent Saturday mornings on the sofa watching cartoons with the volume dialled low as his parents slept. He knew not to make a mess with the cereal, or the milk, rewarded with a stack of pancakes or a new toy for keeping himself amused as Richard and Katherine Harrington slept off the previous evening’s dinner party hangover.

Always the first awake at sleepovers, he would wait with bated breath for Tommy to stir or feign a sneeze to wake him.

He never had to be dragged from bed to go to school during the week, always up and at ‘em to go see his friends, play tag and swap baseball cards on the playground.

As a sporty and popular teenager, he started running when he didn’t have early swim practice or basketball. Steve rose with the sun and waved to his neighbours politely as his shiny sneakers slapped the pavements of Loch Nora.

He was never sure what he was running from, or towards, but the burn of chilly morning air in his lungs made him feel alive.

When he started going to house parties and hangouts on Saturday nights, his Sundays still started early, dragged to show face at his parent’s church. It was less about faith and god and all about appearances. He snuck out of bedroom windows, hopped white picket fences as the sun rose, fought hangovers as the priest’s voice droned and caught the eyes of pretty girls from the convent school a town over - they always blushed when he smiled at them or dropped them a sly little wink as the collection plate was passed around.

When his parents started travelling more, after the shortlived re-commitment to the church, Steve’s Sunday morning hangovers were kept at bay with cold swims in the pool or hot coffee and loud music in the kitchen as he tried and failed to focus on homework.

Steve started working right out of school as punishment for unsubmitted college applications and lower-than-predicted grades. He volunteered for the opening shifts in Scoops Ahoy and Family Video - he liked the responsibility and having a purpose, having an excuse to be out of the house before his parents could tutt and fuss and lecture him. It was easier when they weren’t there; when the office in Indy needed Richard’s attention more than his wife and son did, when Katherine spotted smears of lipstick on his collars again and insisted she spend some time with him in the city apartment.

In their absence, the Harrington house was a mausoleum of failure that Steve couldn’t bear to be in. So he raised his hand for early delivery shifts and stock takes and drove his friends to school when he didn’t have to, already awake after another night of nightmares, memories of flying fists.

Steve Harrington rose early and burned bright; burned out quickly when he realised he didn’t know what to do with himself or what his purpose was.

He filled his time with making himself useful to other people, chasing and seeking a purpose or a person to fill the gaps and spaces in his chest; the hollows once reserved for the people who didn’t return the outpouring of love he offered so freely, so innocently. He found and made a rag-bag bunch of friends, a found family, who returned the love he deserved in the ways they knew how. Woven and knotted friendship bracelets, squished candy bars, mixtapes, weed sold and rolled at buddy rates or for nothing at all.

Steve Harrington moved to the city with his best friends; a Beemer and a battered van filled with boxes and suitcases. The early morning drive made Steve Harrington glow golden in the rising sun, his excited eyes hidden behind dark-tinted sunglasses as Robin Buckley snored in the passenger seat and Eddie Munson listened to metal at an ear-bleeding volume in his van and flipped Steve off with that big grin in the rearview mirror. They stopped for strong coffee and sweet pancakes and started a new chapter in the city.

When you fell in love with Steve in 1990, he found a reason to stay in bed a little longer. A reason to slow down, soak up the sunshine glow you shone on him.

You spent Saturday nights with friends, a patchwork group cheering on Corroded Coffin and selling T-shirts and tapes at a merch table when they scored a bigger venue and a bigger crowd. Movie nights and takeout Chinese food and a stack of new and old movies from Blockbuster. Date nights at swanky bars and restaurants, with flickering candles and pizza on the way home because you didn’t want the night to end yet. You spent hours in bed together, night and morning, talking about everything under the rising sun and dwindling moon, learning about each other’s life and mapping each other’s body with kisses and gentle touches.

In the morning he gazed at your sleepy softness and took his own pulse to make sure he wasn’t dying. No heart attack, just falling in love.

He brought you cups of coffee and sweet pastries from the bakery a block away when his limbs felt restless. He always got back into bed with you to cuddle and while away the morning without a moment wasted. With Steve, those mornings were syrupy slow; he worshipped you between your thighs and held your hands as the headboard bashed against the wall.

You became Mrs. Steve Harrington in the spring of ‘94.

A small wedding. A big party for your friends. A honeymoon week where every morning felt like a perfect lazy Saturday.

When Steve found his reason to stay in bed, together you created a reason that kept you from it.

Bethany Rose Harrington. Born June 21st 1995.

Beth had her Daddy’s eyes and her Mama’s nose, and the sweetest little dimples in her smiley pink cheeks. She was her Daddy’s little doughnut, her Mama’s little bee. She inherited Steve’s charm and wrapped her extensive collection of doting uncles and aunts right around her tiny finger. She took after you in the way that Steve was completely and utterly in love with her.

Just like her Dad, Beth liked to start the day early. After a few weeks of seeking out and settling into a routine, Steve spent the earliest part of the day feeding his little Bethie her bottle of milk in the cosy armchair nestled in the corner of her pale yellow nursery. As he watched her big brown eyes gaze and blink, felt her tiny fist wrap around his finger, Steve decided that these were the happiest mornings of his life.

On those soft and slow mornings, you could hear Steve’s low murmur to your little girl through the baby monitor when his excitement to see her gummy smile or stop her sad fat tears bypassed the off-switch. You fell back asleep to the sound of Steve telling Beth about how the Cubs and the Bulls (their teams now) were doing this season, or about the walk in the park you were going to go on once ‘beautiful mama’ was awake. He sang to her; never typical lullabies, Queen and ABBA and Dusty Springfield.

Steve basked in the joy of her little smiles, soaked in the soft cooing noises as Beth found her voice to talk back to her Daddy. When she fell asleep again, milk-drunk with her cheek against his heartbeat, Steve watched the morning sky shift and brighten and listened out for the sound of your waking time. The soft thud and shuffle from bed to bathroom, running water, your yawn and stretch, the gentle steps to seek and find him and your little treasure. You filled reams of camera film, documenting Steve as a Dad, your little girl's first weeks and months. Lit by morning light, by afternoon sun and the shade of the tree in your yard, and dusky nighttime lit by nightlights.

When your laundry list of chores allowed it, you took one of your three options on those mornings of parenthood - take turns to bask in the warmth of lavender and milk-scented baby cuddles while the other showered; bring the sleeping beauty back to your bed to gaze at the ten fingers and ten toes you had created together; or leave the sleepy and full-tummied grub to sleep in her crib again to spend the slow dawn hours holding each other and trading kisses, and knotting yourselves up in the sheets together once the doctor gave you the all-clear and a prescription for birth control.

You did plenty of all three.

Summer turned to Autumn, then Winter, and Steve balanced being a father and husband with keeping a roof over your heads and the final year of his programme to get his qualification to become a guidance counsellor. His mornings with Beth were part of his routine, leaving her smiling and drooly for you when he kissed his girls goodbye. Missing him during full days of supervised sessions and hours in the college library when he wasn’t in classes bonded you and Beth, thick as thieves and lovestruck for the golden Harrington boy-turned-man. You made sure that he never missed a moment with how many pictures you took, and Beth saved all of her firsts for when he was home. You coached her to say ‘dada’ in Steve’s absence and he sobbed happy tears when she parroted it back. (He had been coaching her to say ‘mama’ during their early mornings together).

Your late nights of talking turned to early-to-bed nights, sleeping when the baby slept and when your little home was some semblance of clean and tidy. Steve fell asleep to the sound of Bethie’s breath on the monitor, your heart under his cheek and the soft stroke of your fingers in his hair, along the length of his arm.

Both of you were exhausted. Neither of you had ever been happier.

When he graduated in the Summer, you and Beth cheered and clapped for your golden boy along with his best friends - the loudest bunch in the college auditorium. A picture of the Harrington trio - Steve in his shirt and tie and graduation gown balancing a smiley baby and his degree as you kiss his cheek and tickle Beth’s tummy for the camera - was placed with pride on his desk when he started a counsellor job that landed in his lap in the late summer of ‘96. He coached basketball two afternoons a week on the side; it was perfect for him.

You go back to work part-time and you balance taking care of Beth and each other with the utmost care. With help from your family and Steve’s trust fund from the Harrington’s, you make it work. You are what he holds dear, pride of place in the centre of his chest, once vacant and hollow. The gaping space he yearned to fill with the wrong friends, the wrong girls, watery beer and too many cigarettes.

By the Fall of ‘97, Steve had learned to sleep again. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Enjoy your days off. Enjoy every moment. He is. He’s so tired but never happier.

This morning, you wake first.

Your little house in the Chicago suburbs is bathed in autumn darkness on a lazy Saturday. Six a.m. and Steve snores peacefully.

Beth is silent, dreaming of her two favourite things: fairies and pancakes. That top five list favourites is rounded out by her Daddy and Mama and Mrs. Murphy’s orange cat that visits the backyard.

The littlest Harrington is an early bird too, twirling in your tummy beneath Steve’s protective hand. Until Steve can take the morning shift, you are the early riser.

Beth is your sleepy little dreamer, she loves her bed like her Mama. She sneaks in between you and Steve (and the bump now too) when she wakes too early; you spend those mornings gazing and counting fingers and toes again like when she was a tiny thing.

This baby however seems to take after her father’s love of sport, the way she practices the aim and strength of her kicks on your bladder. You don’t officially know yet (they were less than cooperative at the last ultrasound), but you know it’s a girl. Steve swayed to boy for a day or two before realising you were right. Maybe next time…

The flush and sigh-groan from your aching back pulls Steve from sleep. When you pad back in from the little bathroom, he’s just about upright and wild-haired.

“Y’okay?” Eyes swollen with sleep, he reaches blindly for you to help you back into the cosy nest of blankets.

“Mm, needed to pee.”

You try to keep your cold feet away but Steve sandwiches them between his own size fourteen and always warm feet. His lips brush your shoulder and the back of your neck when you settle into a comfortable position; Bump dictates what will suffice as ‘comfortable’ and settles under her father’s comforting hand. Harrington’s magic touch is famed in your home; settling gassy babies and working out knotted shoulders, fixing leaky faucets and carrying all of the groceries inside in two heavy handfuls, making shadow-puppet shows on the bedroom wall and holding back your hair when you’re not well.

Slowly, small-spooned by Steve’s bigger body, you drift again. Sleep comes and goes like an inconsistent tide, and you are anchored safely in his arms. Baby names ebb and flow into your tired head and you wish Steve was awake to tell you what he thought of ‘Heather’ or ‘Ava’. Whether your (very slow) re-read of Little Women was influencing you too much to ‘Josie’. You wonder about how much candy you should get for the trick-or-treaters, and whether Beth will be too scared to help you answer the door to them this year.

You wish he was awake - because you always wish your every waking moment was spent with Steve Harrington - but you’re so glad he is sleeping soundly, snoring sweetly behind you. You wish you could take more responsibility, take the pressure he puts on his own shoulders from him, but this pregnancy is less easy than the first and you hate that you can’t do it all anymore. You take solace in the fact that Steve is asleep, not awake worrying or nesting.

Turning in his sleepy hold, you place his hand back on the bump to keep the littlest Harrington settled and content, and watch your handsome husband look like the teenager you wish you had known. You map the laughter lines instead of the ones etched by worry, counting the happy memories (which are insurmountable) as you fall back to sleep with him at last.

Sleeping Beauty herself slumbers on until almost 8 a.m., meaning that both you and Steve sleep until almost 8 a.m. too - later on you will toast coffee (decaf for you) over that parent win. For the next few months, the weekends mean Steve will be hitting snooze on his body clock when the chances arise.

This morning Beth’s little voice sings his name down the hall. Steve wakes with a smile and kisses your sleepy face as you stretch and peel your eyes open.

“You’re up, Coach.” Your voice is a tired yawn, mumbled into the fluffy duvet Steve untangles himself from.

“Bring her in for cuddles please.” You pout for a tired kiss and hum happily when he grants your wish.

Steve’s ankles crack as he walks from your room to Beth’s. She’s wide awake and wild-haired, matching her Dad, and she sits up in her bed with her bunny-teddy clutched in her fist.

“Hi bumblebee,” he gasps, his tiredness swept away by his genuine joy to see her. Steve lays down on her too-small-for-him baby bed and pretends to get comfy to sleep again. “Sleepover?” he asks, opening his arm for her.

“Nooooo, yo’bed!” Her sweet voice crackles with sleepiness and the remnants of a cold she picked up as the seasons changed.

In the warmth of your bed, you can hear the mini-eye-roll she’s giving her Dad as he plays up to her dramatics. Uncle Dustin has a lot to answer for.

“Bethie,” you call from your nest, “I miss you.”

Steve watches with barely restrained amusement as her face beams bright like sunshine before leaving him in the lurch to seek out Mama. “Hey! What about me?!”

You can hear his grumbling as he hauls himself up from the tiny toddler bed but your focus is the bundle of sunshine that bounds her way to your room in her sky-blue jammies. Pushing messy hair from her face, she squeaks happily as you lift her before Steve can beat you to it. You didn’t want another moment apart from your girl and she burrows against your chest under the toasty-warm duvet.

“Morning Betty Boop.” You press kisses to her smiling face and hear Steve stomp and flop back into the room and into the bed.

“Is Daddy not invited to this love-in? Just for Mama and Beth?” he asks, scowling at your smushed-together faces.

You cuddle Beth and stroke her back as the girl shifts her impish gaze to Steve. “What do you think, Betty? Kisses for Dada?”

She can never ever resist him and reach-grabs out to be gathered in his big strong arms for kisses and cuddles.

Steve lights up, features relaxing from his feigned annoyance, as he gives and receives morning kisses. You are gathered up alongside the titch of a girl and with her help, you smother kisses all over Steve’s happy face.

“Never ever not invited to the love-in, my love.” You kiss his shadowed jaw once and tuck yourself under his arm.

“Kiss d’baby?” Beth’s messy head pops up and looks at you hopefully.

“You wanna say good morning to Baby?” Steve asks, and she nods. “Mama?”

“I think she’s asleep, but I bet she’ll wake up when she hears Big Sis and Dada.” Beneath the pitched tent of the duvet, you lift Steve’s t-shirt and present the rounded bump for inclusion in the morning love-in.

Beth has been immensely eager to meet her baby since she took notice of your bump and realised the new baby was actually in there.

The little girl’s pillow-soft cheek rests against the curve as she hugs around your middle. “Moh’nin, baby.” Her little voice is still a little stuffed up, nasal.

Your heart and tears swell as you watch her with Steve, who kisses the bump and murmurs hello. You’re at that point of pregnancy where you could cry when the wind changes and you cover your eyes so Beth won’t go out in sympathy-tears with you.

Steve’s big hand squeezes your hand as he distracts Beth, who babbles in toddler talk to her sibling. His eyes are wide and worried as he looks up and sees the hitch of your chest. He’s had that worried look since you bled at ten weeks and the doctor put you on bed rest, just three weeks into actually knowing you were pregnant. Everything has settled bar your hormones and emotions; two perfect heartbeats, an active healthy baby, a happy but tired Mom. Steve is more scared now than he was with Beth but pretends to be brave for you.

You swipe at your hot tears, dry your hand in your t-shirt before reaching down to stroke through Steve’s thick hair.

“M’okay.” You give him a watery smile. “She’s just… so sweet, Stevie.”

Moving up to lie along your side, Steve wipes your cheek and presses a kiss to the trail of the tears left behind. “Sweetest. Sweet Bee. Feelin’ okay?”

His hand stays on top of your bump and then passes over Bethany’s bedhead when she looks up curiously.

Seeing that she is missing out, Beth decides she has had enough and wants to cuddle with you instead of the baby who won’t kick back hello. She wiggles up to lie on Steve’s chest, little fingers poking into the freckles and moles as he pulls the duvet back around you all like a cosy cocoon.

“Feeling good. You okay?”

Steve has tucked away his worry again, but you still see the pinch in his brow - though the curious little fingers might be the reason for that.

“Peachy.” He chases the poking fingers with a growling kiss, pulling a shrieking giggle from Beth. “Hello, can I help you? Why are we poking Daddy this morning, huh?”

You giggle with Beth and kiss where her fingers had pressed, modelling the gentle sweetness you know she possesses in multitudes. “Poor Daddy. See, Betty? Gentle kissies.” A kiss is snuck onto his mouth for good measure.

“Daddy,” Beth sing-songs, patting his cheek lovingly.

“Bethie,” Steve sings back to her, echoing her melody. He accepts a wet baby-kiss as you curl close to them both.

You twirl a finger in the messy wave of her hair. “What will we do today? Do you want to get some library books? Or we could… go to the park?”

Steve pats her back gently. “Oh wow. All the possibilities, huh?” His lips press to Beth’s forehead as she cuddles up to him, her fingers distracted by the gold chain he wears around his neck. “Gentle, please.” He kisses her head again and looks at you. “We can do both… Go get a t-r-e-a-t?”

You smile and nod, covering Steve’s hand on Beth’s small back. “I like t-r-e-a-ts. What do you want to do, big guy?”

Steve’s fingers slot with yours. His lips brush your head as you share his pillow - the firm one to help with his neck pain. “Just be with you two. Could stay right here all day and I’d be the happiest guy.”

You press your nose against his cheek and close your eyes; you’re both surrounded by your favourite people, it is utter bliss.

“I love you.” Your voice is soft and tired against his stubbly jaw.

“Love you. So much, babe.”

Steve tilts his head so you can share a morning-breath-be-damned kiss. He wishes he had woke up sooner, before the wide-eyed toddler, so that he could have showered you with kisses, made out like teenagers (despite the baby bump between you).

“No! Me!” The frustrated little whine makes you smile apologetically to each other, chancing one more peck before you both look to scowling Beth.

“Sorry, Bee. Mama’s too delicious for me to resist.”

“Steve!” you tuck your face in his neck as you laugh, an affectionate headbutt.

“What? The kid’s gotta know.”

The two-year-old smushes her face to her Dad’s chest, still too little to comprehend her Dad’s silly banter when she just wants to be the centre of both of your attention. You have a few months left to figure that out before the baby arrives, but it scares you that she might feel like she’s not the best thing that ever happened you (bar her Dad, of course).

Your pout matches hers and you push back the stinging Mom Guilt Tears. She is only coaxed away with sweet little cheek-kisses from you as you hum-sing Take a Chance on Me (accompanied by Steve’s tapping fingers on her back ‘take a chance, take a chance, take a, take a chance-chance.)

The girl's smile splits her frustrated face, a quiet giggle as she is serenaded by her current favourite song (you have just got I Was Made For Lovin’ You out of your head after Steve had introduced her to KISS in the car). Her little arm hooks around your head as you whisper how much you love her, soft voice tickling her ear and cheek.

Beth’s laughter coaxes a fluttering kick against your belly, which Steve feels against his side as you spoon against him. He wears the same wide-eyed joy on his face every time he has felt your babies kick.

“Oo, she’s awake again. Finally joining the party.” You rest your hand against the side of your rounded belly and telepathically tell the tiny one how much you love them too, how you can’t wait to meet them but please stay in there until they’re fully cooked and ready.

Steve’s free hand - the one not keeping Beth upright as she sits up on his torso - joins yours and echoes your telepathic communication to the littlest Harrington - I love you, I can’t wait to hold you, please stay safe in there and be nice to your Mom.

His wide palm on your bump settles the fluttering before she aims her kick right against it Hi Dad! Okay, Dad!

You share a secret little smile with him and kiss his cheek as his eyes shimmer before rolling onto your achy back, feeling the satisfaction of the pop and crack as your spine relaxes against the mattress. Steve’s hand stays on your belly, and you hug his arm to your chest, as Beth sings her toddler-babble version of an ABBA mashup for you both from her throne.

Steve’s face hurts from smiling as he listens to her, hears some semblance of the lyrics in Beth-speak. He doesn’t remember mornings like this with his parents, few and far between were the times he was even allowed to cuddle with them in bed on a weekend morning.

You glance at his face, watching shifting emotions come and go as he remembers, tries to forget and focuses on the memories being made right now in your cosy nest of a bed. You squeeze his arm and hold his hand on your belly - matching gold wedding rings clicking against each other as your fingers intertwine.

Steve squeezes your hand, three pulses. There is simply nowhere he would rather be.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington character study #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x f!reader #prosaic fic #bangaveragefics

854 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 7 months

Note

Imagine Bucky turned into the Winter soldier, after you read the words and he heard them. Even when it's an accident and then he comes to you and bands you over the table or something.😩🥵

The Winter Soldier bending me over and fucking me? YES PLEASE!😩🥵

The Winter Soldier Comes Out To Play » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s girlfriend (the reader) accidentally reads the trigger words out loud without realizing that it turns Bucky into the Winter Soldier and he decides to have some fun with her.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, hair pulling, choking, spanking, degrading, name calling (slut, whore), pet names (doll, кукла [doll in Russian])

I used google translate for the Russian translation of doll.

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this gif on Pinterest.

DIVIDER IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to @silkholland

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You were cleaning up and putting stuff away around yours and Bucky’s apartment. At the moment, you were rearranging stuff in the closet in yours and his bedroom. You bumped into a box and a red book with a star on it fell out of it. You picked it up and opened it. You’ve never seen this book before. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you came across a page with words that were in Russian, but had English next to them.

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car.” You read out loud to yourself.

You weren’t sure what the words meant so you just went through the rest of the book. You were looking down at the book as you were walking out of the closet and bumped into something. You looked up and seen Bucky.

“Oh hey, Bucky. I didn’t know you were home.” You say.

“Where’d you find that?” Bucky asks, referring to the red book in your hand.

“It fell out of a box in the closet when I was cleaning and I started reading it.” You say.

Bucky snatched the book out of your hand making you flinch a little. You’ve never seen Bucky act this way.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Bucky? I was just reading it.” You say.

“Why do you keep calling me Bucky?” He asks.

“That’s your name.” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know who the hell Bucky is.” He says.

“What do you mean you don’t know who-” A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened. “Oh my god.” You say quietly.

“Those words I read in that book must be the words that turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier.” You thought to yourself. Bucky has told you about how he used to be the Winter Soldier and the things he did as him, but you’ve never seen him as the Winter Soldier. You stood frozen in your spot, scared to move a muscle.

“Why are you quiet all of the sudden, кукла?” The Winter Soldier asks, walking around you.

You whimpered in fear. You didn’t know if you should talk or not. All of a sudden, he wrapped his metal hand around your throat and roughly pinned you against the wall behind you, a yelp left your lips as you put your smaller hand over his metal wrist.

“I asked you a question. It would be smart of you to respond.” He says, applying pressure to your throat.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean t-to read th-the book!” You apologized, stuttering in fear.

The Soldier laughed at your fear.

“That’s right. You shouldn’t be snooping in things that aren’t yours.” He says, tightening his grip on your throat again.

His face got closer to yours. Your breathing got heavy and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I don’t know who the hell this Bucky guy is, but his girlfriend is hot as hell.” He says.

You slowly opened your eyes to see him licking his lips as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe.

“A-Are you going t-to kill me?” You asked.

“No. I have other plans for you.” He smirks.

The Soldier let go of your throat, letting you breathe. He then grabbed your upper arm tightly and led you out of the bedroom to the table in the dining room. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to burst through your chest. You didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on. He roughly bent you over the table. He yanked your shorts and panties down your legs in one go.

“For someone who’s scared of me, you’re wet like a slut.” He says, rubbing a metal finger between your wet folds.

A moan fell from your lips. You heard a clink of his belt hitting the floor. You looked over your shoulder to see him pulling down his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and leaking with precum from the tip.

“I’m sure Bucky won’t mind me borrowing his girl for a while.” He says, pumping his cock in his right hand.

The Soldier wrapped your hair in his metal hand and pushed your head against the table. He rubbed his tip through your folds, bumping your clit and teasing your entrance making you whine. You yelped when you felt a harsh smack on your ass.

“Quit your fucking whining.” He says.

He slid his whole cock inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to his size. His thrusts were fast and brutal. He was relentless. Your hands scrambled to grab the edge of the table.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” The Soldier groans.

His metal hand let go of your hair to hold on to your hips with his right hand with a bruising grip. Moans and screams left your lips as he fucked you hard.

“S-Soldier!” You moaned.

“What is it, кукла?” The Soldier asks.

“More!” You moaned.

“You want more? Well here you go.” He says.

His right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up so your back was against his body.

“You’re my whore now, кукла.” He whispers in your ear.

Him calling you his whore made your cunt clench around his cock.

“You like that? You want to be my whore?” He asks.

“Yes! Please fuck! Make me your whore!” You moaned.

His hand left your hair. He gripped your tank top and ripped it off, throwing it on the floor. Both of his hands were placed on your breasts.

“Look at these gorgeous tits.” He bites his bottom lip.

His fingers pinched and tugged at your nipples making a tingling sensation shoot through your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against his right shoulder. He took the opportunity to kiss and suck hickeys on your neck, marking you as his. His right hand snaked down your body, stopping on your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles.

“Oh my god! Fuck yes!” You moaned loudly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, кукла?” He whispers in your ear.

“Mmm, yes! Don’t stop!” You moaned.

You reached your hands up, blindly feeling your way to his hair. He stopped rubbing your clit to grab your arms, pinning them behind your back and bend you over the table.

“No touching.” He growled.

You yelped when you felt a harsh smack on your ass. His metal hand reached around to your front to rub your clit. You jolted at the cool sensation of his metal fingers against your clit. You’re cunt clenched around his cock at the feeling.

“Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” He moans.

His metal fingers continued to rub your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten. Your orgasm coming closer and closer.

“I- oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.

“Beg me to let you cum.” He says, quickening the rubbing on your clit which is now sensitive.

“Soldier, please I- fuck! Let me cum please!” You begged desperately.

“Such a desperate little slut. Go ahead. Cum for me, кукла.” He says.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Your jaw dropped, his name left your lips that was followed by a loud moan. You came harder than ever before. You were laying against the table, a moaning mess with tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty cunt.” The Soldier moans, tilting his head back.

“Fuck yes! Fill me up, Soldier!” You moaned.

“I love it when you beg me.” He says with a groan.

Your name left his lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He let go of your arms and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the loss of contact of his cock.

Bucky slowly went back to his normal self. He blinked a couple times, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when he seen your clothes, along with his on the floor. He seen you bent over the table with his cum dripping out of your cunt and bruises in the shape of hand marks on your hips.

“Oh god, doll. I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t-” You interrupted him by putting your finger on his lips to silence him.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Bucky.” You say.

“But he- I-” You interrupted him again.

“It’s fine, babe.” You smiled softly. “If I’m being honest, I enjoyed every single second of it.” You say biting your bottom lip.

“Y-You enjoyed it.” Bucky asks.

You nodded your head yes while biting your bottom lip.

“So you’re fine?” He asks to be sure.

“I’m completely fine.” You say.

Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you sweetly.

“I love you so much, doll.” Bucky says against your lips.

“I love you so much too, Buck.” You smiled, kissing him again.

-Bucky’s Doll

611 notes · View notes

silkholland · 1 year

Text

Steve Harrington Dividers Pt. 4

all dividers made by me. please like and reblog if you use. credit isn’t necessary but always appreciated.

#peter parkqueue #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #stranger things divider #stranger things #blog divider #silkholland divider #silkholland dividers #fanfic

144 notes · View notes

preeningpisces · 1 month

Text

JJK Men & Their Love Languages

I’m of the belief everyone feels/gives love with all 5, but I'm picking their top ones for giving & receiving.

Includes: Choso, Geto, Gojo, Nanami and Toji

Let me know your thoughts 🩷

Below the cut! Pure fluff

Choso

Giving: Acts of Service

♡ Choso is fiercly protective and doting, it only makes sense that his way of expressing affection is doing everything he can to make your life better. Being loved by Choso is becoming a bit of a princess LOL he will offer to do just about everything for you. Oh, you forgot your phone in the other room? Sit back down he'll get it. You need to carry in groceries? Don't worry about it, he'll bring them all in and put them away. He feels the need to take care of the people he loves

Receiving: Physical Touch

♡ His body is brand new! Like Gojo he's touch-starved, but because it's all new to him it amazes him that you choose to be with him. Not just in the sexual way, but simply the act of hugging him, or playing with his hair makes him feel loved and cherished. Grounds him in his body. He can’t separate physical from emotional, sees them as one in the same when it comes to love & intimacy

Geto

Giving: Quality Time

♡ Making an effort to seek you out and spend time with you is a sign he’s into you, because he really enjoys his alone time! Love from him is taking time/effort to plan dates/hang outs, prioritizing you & not making you feel like you’re just getting his leftover time. It shows his attentiveness, that he knows what you enjoy doing. He isn’t the type that invites you over & just plays video games the whole time—he always has something in mind that you’ll both enjoy, even if it’s as simple as watching a show together. Or just something you enjoy! As long as it makes you happy

Receiving: Gift Giving

♡ I think this one might come as a shock but hear me out. Gifts don't have to be bought, they can be as simple as seeing a cool rock and giving it to your partner. For Geto the reminder that you're thinking about him when he's not around, and that you know what he likes makes him feel loved. Honestly, non-material things are usually more his speed. Sending song recs, funny memes, sending updates about your day, facts you think he'll find cool, etc. He’s very considerate & observant of the ppl he loves, having it reciprocated means a lot to him

Gojo

Giving: Physical Touch

♡ Physical touch doesn’t equal sex. For Gojo, being in love means being vulnerable, and allowing himself to turn off limitless. Because he has so much space between him and the world, he’s pretty touch-starved, and is almost clingy with you. Always wants a hand or arm around you, cuddling, etc. Gojo is kind of emotionally constipated, so he's better at expressing affection physically than verbally. Childish in the way he likes to pester you affectionately, like poking or pinching you. Prepare for bear hugs where he squeezes the shit out of you

Receiving: Quality Tme

♡ Gojo is a living legend, it's almost like the name Satoru Gojo doesn't even refer to him as a person anymore--just the Strongest. Because of this, Gojo feels loved when you see him for him, and want to spend time with him because you like him for just being Satoru. Inviting him over to watch a movie, or hell, just play on your phones in each others presence makes him feel wanted. It’s his presence you want, not his name

Nanami

Giving: Gift giving

♡ You know he fucks w/ you if he’s spending his $$ on you. He shows his love quietly, and through his actions. Love from him is picking up your favorite pastry when he gets bread for himself, buying the shirt you pointed out in the window shop & surprising you with it; he doesn’t make a show of giving it to you, instead he’ll just leave it folded where you can find it. Secretly enjoys when you make a big deal about it tho. It shows he always has you on his mind, and pays attention to the things you like. He just likes to see you happy and smiling!

Receiving: Acts Of Service

♡ Nanami is the type to bear others’ burdens. We hear him say things like ‘leave it to me,’ ‘I’ll take care of it,’ etc. Someone who wants to take care of him makes his heart leap. Someone who is concerned about his wellbeing, and checks up on him. Someone who will offload some of his stress simply because they care, and aren’t looking for something in return. Knowing what he needs and how to help him without needing to be asked

Toji:

Giving: Acts of Service

♡ I’ve touched on this before but Toji takes care of you when he’s in love. Very passively, similar to Nanami, but I think he gets more embarrassed if you make a big deal of it. He’s the type to go put gas in your car for you, or wake up early to scrape the ice off your windows & shovel the driveway so you aren’t late for work.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

♡ Toji was raised to believe he’s trash & not good enough, I think hearing encouragement & being appreciated verbally means a lot to him. Telling him you need and want him makes him feel loved. Not necessarily sappy things, more of appreciative commentary/observations if that makes sense—things that are grounded in reality. Saying he’s the moon to your stars or something isn’t going to mean shit to him. But telling him you couldn’t have done X without him? That’s what makes him feel loved. Lowkey has low self-esteem, pls tell this man he's means the world to you :(

272 notes · View notes

mandosaur · 11 months

Text

Blog Guide

About Me

I am 23 years old and use they/them pronouns. I belong to a lot of fandoms.

Welcome!

Navigation Guide

Find me on Archive

Here

Writing Masterlist Link

Here

#blog guide #divider by silkholland

2 notes · View notes

imagine-knb · 7 months

Note

Yandere!Hanamiya with the zealot prompt "you are my religion" if possible please? I really missed this blog!

Happy Halloween!

My first Halloween ask and it's for my favorite asshole ♡ This prompt was a little difficult, but I had a lot of fun with it! Admin Neon

Content Rating: Mature (violence; semi-religious themes)

It had begun as a joke — a teasing nickname — when Hanamiya began calling you 'angel'. Started by the fact you treated people so well, not a single ill word said against you. You were a good person, the complete opposite of him. Where most people would venture to claim you were born from the promised land, those same people would spit out his name as if it were synonymous with the devil himself.

Which is why it came as a surprise to everyone when the two of you started dating. The worried glances that were always tossed your way did not go unnoticed and more than once you had people questioning your sanity out loud. But Hanamiya was a good person — you were so sure of it — because, despite his reputation, the notorious bad boy treated you well.

It was as if you were made of the divine and his devotion ran deep. Everything was said as if perfectly practiced to please you. Every look, every touch, every praise was filled with adoration. The time you spent together was like your personal little slice of heaven on earth and you relished in the fact that you were proving the world wrong. Hanamiya was not the demon people made him out to be.

Eventually, you fell in love. It was right around that time that Hanamiya had stopped calling you 'angel' and started calling you 'your holiness'. You had laughed the first time, thinking it was a joke. A silly callback to an old nickname taken a step further. You thought it even sillier when he got others involved, growling about them being too close as if he worshiped the ground you walked on. It was funny how far he was willing to take a simple, joking nickname.

But, oh, how wrong you had been.

How were you supposed to know that Hanamiya took the title seriously?

The sound of a fist meeting a jaw was honestly not that loud. Not as loud as that same jaw meeting pavement, skin scraping against uneven ground and teeth cracking against something more solid. Even louder than that was the scream that had ripped itself from your throat.

"Makoto, stop!"

But your screeched command fell upon deaf ears as Hanamiya proceeded to kick your neighbor while he was down, the toe of his shoe landing heavily against a ribcage. It made you want to puke when you heard bones snap.

"Maybe you'll think twice now before stepping this close to the divine," Hanamiya sneered as he knelt next to the beaten man.

With one hand curling into the fabric of your neighbor's shirt, yanking him off the ground by the collar, Hanamiya reeled back his other hand in a fist. You covered your eyes after knuckles met their target the first time, unable to bear witness to the scene before you. You could hear every second of the scuffle, from your neighbor's desperate attempt to flee to Hanamiya's sadistic laugh all the way down to the sound of flesh tearing as it was beaten over and over again.

It felt like ages for the sounds to finally die down. When you peered through your fingers to assess the damage, what you saw made your skin pale.

There was blood. A lot of it. None of it was Hanamiya's, you were sure, but a lot of it had found its way onto him. Spatters of copper scented fluid were on his fists, his clothes, his face — he was wearing it like a prize. Despite the fact he had stopped moving, Hanamiya's eyes remained fixated on his victim still held up by a single fist ensnared in a shirt. He looked paused in thought, as if he were debating if it'd be worth it to continue his punishments.

"My god, Makoto, what have you done?" Your meek question pulled him out of his silent reverie.

"God?" The cold stare he sported turned to you, piercing you with his gaze. They looked foreign, like a different entity entirely. Like Hanamiya was a man possessed. "I don't believe in god."

Hanamiya let go of your neighbor, letting the other man's body drop to the floor in a heavy thud. You tried to ignore the sound of your neighbor's struggling wheeze, eyes instead fixated on the slow pace at which Hanamiya was striding toward you. With slow, cautious steps, you walked backward away from him — you knew the action was futile. Your knees wanted to buckle underneath you as he crowded you against a corner. You looked up at his looming figure with newfound fear in your eyes. Every warning you'd ever heard uttered about Hanamiya, thrown out the window because you were too blindly in love, was suddenly coming back to your mind.

"Who needs a god when I have you."

You saw the glimmer in his eyes, like he was delighted when you visibly shuddered as one of his hands came up to stroke at your cheek. His knuckles smeared your neighbor's blood against your skin. The previously cold stare he harbored softened into that adoring expression you were used to, his tone saccharine as he spoke.

"You're the only thing I need. Now and forever. You are my religion."

When the kind light in his eyes dimmed and the pleasant smile on his face was replaced by a wicked smirk, curling the corners of his lips, you knew then that the Hanamiya you had fallen for had been a hoax. The demon that had been lying in the waits inside was finally ready to claw its way out. He had you cornered, tangled in a web of lies he'd woven so intricately, you'd never find your way out.

As Hanamiya shifted the caress he had on your cheek, grabbing onto your chin to pull you closer, his voice dripped with menacing venom. "And all these other infidels? They're going to burn in the crusades."

#hanamiya #yandere #yandere hanamiya #hanamiya x reader #divider by silkholland #yandere knb

30 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 28 days

Text

A LITTLE SUN - PART FOUR Dieter x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS GET OUTTA HERE OR I'M TELLIN'!)

Story Summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way.

Chapter summary: The secret is out. . . And you both have to face the music.

tags: Surrogacy, Pregnancy, Body changes re: pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Idiots in love, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Parental Death, Parental Issues, Vulnerable Dieter, Vulnerable Reader.

dividers by @silkholland

a/n: Next chapter is... gonna be a doozy.

part one / part two / part three

"Tell me it isn't true."

"Huh?"

You roll over in bed, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Your cell is firmly lodged against your ear as your mother’s frantic cry is heard on the other end. It’s early the morning after the ultrasound and you’re still reeling from everything. There are soft pings going off on your phone, but all are drowned out by your mother’s terrified voice.

After the kiss you and Dieter had been driven back to the rental in silence, both of you processing. You were pensive, staring down at your phone reading through work emails. Dieter on the other hand was beaming, his smile never dimming.

He’d tried to talk to you when you entered into the rental but you’d made a beeline for your bedroom where you’d fallen into an unsettled sleep. And now you have your mother screaming down the line at you as you blurrily try to understand what she’s going on about.

"People haven’t stopped calling,” your mom says her voice wobbling. "I keep hanging up but now they're on the lawn!"

"Mom what are you-"

"Tell me you're not having that horrible man's baby!"

It feels like a cold bucket of water has been dumped over your head sending icy chills down your spine. You jerk up in bed, your eyed bulging.

"What did you just say?"

You pull the phone from your ear and see all the pings and alerts that haven’t stopped. While you were sleeping it turns out you have been making headlines back home in the US. TMZ is of course the one to break the news, photos of you and Dieter splashes all over the internet.

Dieter Bravo makes PA his sex slave

There you both are, standing in the parking lot of the hospital. Dieter is smiling at you sweetly, his hand splayed over your belly. Your mid laugh and the two of you appear to have eyes only for each other.

The next shot is the kiss – the one with your hand on his neck, his hand on your belly and both of you with your eyes shut. The level of intimacy in the photo is staggering to the point that just looking at it makes your face heat.

How did they get that shot?

“Mom, I have to go,” you tell her breathlessly, hanging up on her still shrieking voice.

"DIETER! GET THE FUCK IN HERE!"

The day is long and by the evening the two of you have turned off your phones. The pings of incoming messages and phone calls are getting to be too much. Diane has scheduled an early meeting with the two of you tomorrow to discuss further steps.

You settle into the TV room, putting on some nature documentary but neither of you is watching it. You're seated by the fire, eyes lost in the flames.

Dieter is stretched out on the sofa, one arm behind his head, the other on his belly. He looked like a lost child, dark eyes wide and unblinking. He’s run his hands through his hair so much that it’s even more wild and mussed than usual. Eventually when the silence grows oppressive you glance over at him.

"Was Mia pissed?"

"She hadn't replied to any of my messages."

Good.

You don't know where that thought comes from, but it does. A strange sense of victory threads through your body, making you tingle pleasantly. But then your eyes drift over to Dieter still looking anxiously up at the ceiling and guilt soars through you.

"Are you upset?"

"Of course I'm upset," Dieter snaps. "I really liked her. She's funny and chill and me being a single dad didn't bug her. She wanted me."

You say nothing. You watch as he throws his arm over his eyes, mouth curling into a frown.

"And the shitty thing is I was gonna tell her when we got back to LA," Dieter sighs. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry," you offer in a quiet voice. Dieter’s eyes are immediately on your face. He sees you turned away from him.

"What're you sorry for?"

You can't face him. You just shrug instead, feeling the queasy sensation of sentimentality.

"I fucked it up for you."

Dieter is off the couch and crawling over to you without thinking. His long legs carry him clumsily until he’s kneeling at your feet.

"You didn't," Dieter says with that husky earnestness you’ve come to expect from him. You don't respond and he furrows his brows. "Hey, look at me."

You shake your head. You don't want to look at him. Dieter hates talking to people without seeing their eyes, it makes him uneasy. He doesn't see the irony in him constantly wearing sunglasses. He moves his fingers to your chin, gently tilting your face in his direction.

"You did nothing wrong,"

"I kissed you."

"You were excited."

"But I kissed you," you repeat.

"And I kissed you," Dieter offers without thinking before stumbling over his tongue as his words finally hit his brain. "It's like the first time you were excited about the baby and I loved sharing that with you."

He holds your gaze as you hold your breath.

"I don't regret that moment. I wouldn't change it." His hand slips from your chin to your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

His face is so close to yours you can smell the cologne he spritzed to cover up the smell of cigarettes. You can see the length of his dark eyelashes. You force your eyes not to drift to his pouty mouth.

"Even if it fucks up everything with you and Mia?"

Dieter goes to respond to you when a loud bang sounds on the front door. The two of you break apart and Dieter groans as he stands muttering about his knees. You move to the seat by the window, not up for talking to whatever company Dieter has invited over but not wanting to be in your stuffy bedroom.

"Mia?"

You turn as Dieter says her name. Mia shoves past Dieter into the rental without taking the time to say a word to him. Her hair is wild from the wind outside and her jacket hangs on the crooks of her elbows. Despite everything she still looks glamorous. She spies you sitting near one of the windows with wide eyes.

"Hi," you offer weakly.

Dieter steps forward to follow Mia towards you but you wave him away. He shifts back, hanging awkwardly by the front door as the two women in his life meet eyes. Mia is staring at you harshly, her hand going to motion towards your belly.

"It's his isn't it?" Mia demands breathlessly.

You think of denying it but you know she doesn't deserve it. You hang your head, chin touching your chest.

"Yes."

"Fuck," Mia says shaking her head. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

"You're not!" You insist, struggling to a stand. The blanket that had been draped over your belly falls to the ground.

Mia's eyes rove your expanded stomach, noticing the pronounced swell under your tight t-shirt more easily than the last time she saw you. Her eyes widen and you feel the need to explain before she starts screaming or crying.

"It was a one night stand," you explain in a rush.

"One where you got pregnant and are keeping the baby," Mia says flatly. "Doesn't sound like a casual one night thing to me."

"Dieter is paying me."

Mia's reaction is as expected: confused and then horrified. Her perfectly manicured nails slide over her mouth in distress.

"What?"

"Dieter, get Mia a drink," you throw over Mia's shoulder. You need him to stop standing there staring at you like a bump on a log. You look back to Mia. "Please, just come sit down and let's talk about this."

Dieter scrambles, knocking into one of the chairs before scampering off into the kitchen, relieved to have something to do.

Mia looks to be debating your offer before nodding. She follows you to the large tufted chairs by the window, taking the one opposite you.

"I don't even know why I'm here," Mia laughs ruefully, not able to meet you sympathetic gaze. "It's not like... I don't..."

She fumbles for the words that you already know and you give a chagrined smile.

"Because you like him," you tell her.

"We barely know one another," she says to her chapped hands. “We haven’t even slept together.”

She nestles back into the chair like a delicate bird making home in a nest. Dieter rushes over with two full glasses of red wine. He presses one into Mia's hand, wincing at her cool appraisal of him. His hand extends the wineglass towards you before he realizes the faux pas.

"Oh fuck," Dieter says wincing. "I didn't-"

"Its fine," you say rolling your eyes. "You drink it," you motion to the sofa across the room when Dieter goes to perch on the arm of your chair, "over there!"

Dieter nods, shuffling quickly away from you, the wine spilling in like drops after him like a bloody trail. He places the wineglass onto the coffee table with a quiet knock.

You glance over Mia's body tucked tightly into the chair. She looks so haunted, so defeated that it breaks your heart. Yes, you can admit that there is a part of you that is jealous of her relationship but you know that it's just hormones. Ultimately you want Dieter happy and Mia makes him happy.

"Mia," you say her name softly, leaning forward conspiratorially as her large eyes turn on you. "You and Dieter have a strong connection."

She gives a scoff into her wineglass. "Right."

"I've seen the two of you," you insist. "You bring out the best in him. You seem happy when you're with him."

"He makes me laugh," Mia relents.

You try not to notice Dieter's head poking up from the couch, his eyes flitting from you to Mia and back again.

"Don't let this," you motion to your expanded belly, "get in the way of that."

"You say it like it's not a big deal," Mia says with a distressed laugh, her hand gesturing to your belly. "It's a child you two made together!"

"It’s a business transaction," you say firmly. "Dieter wanted to be a dad, I got pregnant, he offered to pay and I accepted. That's how non-emotional the entire thing was. I never wanted kids."

Mia twists the stem of her wineglass between her fingers anxiously. The drink sloshes against the sides hypnotically.

"Why would you do this?" Mia finally asks you gently. "If you never wanted kids, I mean. This is a big ask."

You know she doesn't believe you and you don't know how to convince her other than giving her all the brutal facts. You exhale slowly, lips pressing together tightly.

"Because I have significant debt," you tell her leaning back into the chair. "And when Dieter offered me a very generous payment to carry the child to term I didn't want to turn it down."

You try to sound clinical and detached as you explain this. Dieter's eyes flicked to your face when you mentioned the debt, his brows raised. Now he just continues looking uncertainly between you and Mia.

"You're not going to want to be in this baby's life at all?" Mia asks, brow furrowed. "You're just going to go work for Dieter every day and ignore your own baby?"

The way she says this sounds judgmental. Like you're a monster for choosing this. It makes your hackles rise momentarily before you remember that she's come here to understand everything. You smooth down the pillow absently, grounding yourself.

"I won't be working for Dieter after I give birth," you explain in a rush, avoiding the way Dieter's eyes move sharply to your face. "I'll pay off my debts and then I'm going back to school to finish my schooling. I won't even be in the same city."

You hide a wince when you see Dieter's hurt expression behind Mia's shoulder at this proclamation. You know he’d been upset when you mentioned Sacramento in passing, but now he just looks devastated.

Mia blinks rapidly, looking even more thrown then before. "You won't?"

"Nope." You shake your head before giving a tepid smile. "But that means I won't be there to get in the way either. No random run ins, no having to pretend things aren't totally fucking awkward."

Mia gives a small smile at this

“It also means that your relationship with Dieter would be public news,” you tell her quietly. “It means tabloids running things about you being a stepmom. It means a lot of unwanted attention.”

“I could give a fuck about that,” Mia says rolling her eyes. “They said I didn’t have a belly button last year. I don’t care what they print about me. I just signed an airtight three picture deal with Marvel.”

You want to laugh at how you pinned Mia as this innocent little waif who didn’t know what she was getting into. How wrong you were. She’s more shrewd and worldly than most fifty year olds you know in the business. Suddenly your fears about her being too innocent, about her career being damaged, are pushed to the side.

But her smile drops and she jerks her head behind her to glare at a solemn looking Dieter who now stands braced against the edge of his couch. She places her empty wineglass next to her on the floor.

"You lied to me, Dee."

"I told him to," you break in before your boss can reply. "I begged him not to tell anyone. Even you."

Mia turns back around, brow raised. "Why?"

"Because I was involved in a one night stand with my boss," you say with a dejected scoff. "And I got pregnant from it. From the man the media once called Burnout Bravo. I was humiliated. I didn’t want anyone to know. My own mother didn’t even know until TMZ came out with it."

Dieter feels his heart sink as you say this. The truth that he always suspected so brutally delivered makes him feel like he's been punched in the gut. Burnout Bravo.

Mia begins twisting her fingers together nervously. "Really?"

"Really," you nod before shooting a look over at Dieter that says play along.

"It's the truth," Dieter says hollowly.

"So there's no feelings here?" Mia asks the both of you.

You're the first to reply with a laugh you force from the bottom of your belly.

"No. Never. It was a one night stand because we were drunk and because I hadn't been laid in months. That's all it was."

"Yeah," Dieter says laughing the same sharp way you do. "I don't fuck my employees. We were wasted."

That stings. To be referred to as an employee and so carelessly. But it’s what needs to be done. The two of them fit together. You lean closer to Mia, dropping your voice so that only she can hear you.

“Mia what you two have is special,” you emphasize. “I’m not just saying that. I’ve known Dieter for years. You’re the first one I’ve really seen make him change for the better.”

Mia seems to soften at this and you watch as Mia pushes up from the chair and draws over to Dieter. He stands and she allows him to pull her into his arms. He closes his eyes as he holds her against him. She murmurs something into his neck and the moment suddenly feels incredibly intimate.

You feel your intruding on the two of them and you shuffle past them into your bedroom, closing the door quietly behind you.

Back in the kitchen Mia pulls back slightly to gaze up at Dieter. "Do you want her, Dieter?"

"What?" Dieter blinks rapidly. "You already asked me that and-"

"And now she's not in the room with us," Mia finishes, peering into Dieter's face. "And I want your total honesty."

Total honesty.

He can't give her that. Can't tell her how you occupy his thoughts at all times. Can't tell her that even if you weren't carrying his child he's crazy about you. Can't tell her that he's so touched that you care about him well past that of a personal assistant. Can't tell her that he's told you things no one knows because he trusts you more than anyone.

And he can't tell her those things because he really cares for Mia, more than he ever expected to. If things continue between the two of them there's a very good chance he's going to fall in love with her because right now he's well on his way.

He doesn't want to give her up.

His affection for you will wane. When you leave for school he'll be able to forget you. You don't want him so why would he pin his affections on that?

He needs to move on from you.

"No," Dieter says firmly. "It's not like that. I mean of course I care about her. She's been my assistant for years and she's carrying my kid."

"You know that's not what I mean," Mia says flatly, her light eyes scanning his face. Dieter stares into those eyes, feeling himself melt.

Mia is sweet and ambitious and she likes to party. She's got an edge, a relaxed way of being and she's fucking gorgeous. She's an actress so of course there's a bit of ego but that's nothing he can't handle. If anything he likes it about her.

Mia had been so understanding, so cool. Dieter could feel himself falling harder and harder for her the longer they were together. Part of him thinks she suggested the casual nature of the relationship because that's all she thought he was capable of. She gets him in a lot of ways.

But you’re here and you're carrying his child and even if you weren't, after breaking down the walls you keep up these past few months, Dieter doesn't know that he can stop wanting you. It doesn't make sense; you don't want him like that so why does he still desire you?

He needs to quit it though. If he doesn't watch himself he's going to lose Mia and he doesn't want that.

"I want you," Dieter finishes softly, cupping her cheek.

Mia slides her manicured hand over Dieter's wrist, sighing as she looks up at him.

"I think maybe we need to take a beat Dee."

"Huh? Why?"

Dieter can't understand what she's talking about. They're going at a glacial pace. He hasn't even taken her to bed yet. Something that would have bothered him in past relationships, but for this one just feels right.

"Because I need some time to think things over," Mia tells him gently. "This is a lot to take in."

Dieter frowns. "But, I like being with you."

"And I like being with you," Mia assures him with a smile. "But I need to wrap my head around this. I know why you did what you did, but I need to sit with it and let you know how I feel."

She’s dumping him.

Dieter isn’t an idiot. He’s done this song and dance in his time. He knows by the tentative way she meets his eyes, the way her hand stays lightly on his wrist. She’s softening the blow, he realizes.

"If that's what you want," he manages. He won’t force a woman to be with him. And despite everything he’s glad he met Mia.

"It is," Mia nods. She stands on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips, smiling as she pulls back. "I better get back to the hotel. I have an early day on set tomorrow. Not all of us were lucky enough to finish wrapping their scenes."

"The price of being the lead," Dieter grins. Mia giggles, going to pull on her jacket before giving him a brief wave.

“I’ll see you later, Dee.”

You're in bed when Mia leaves, half dozing on your side. You’ve just removed the headphones from your belly and you’re ready to fall into a hopefully long sleep. You start when the door to your room creaks opens and Dieter steps inside, creeping over to your bed.

"Hey," you whisper in the dark. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Dieter nods, unbuttoning his shirt. "We talked it out."

"Okay. Good."

The shirt is dropped to the ground, followed quickly by his jeans. Wearing only his boxers he stills, realizing he's not in his room but yours.

"Did you... Can I sleep in here?"

"In here?"

"Yeah," Dieter says and you can hear the insecurity there.

"Sure," you say pulling back the covers. "If you can fit in this narrow bed with me and my stomach."

"I'll fit," Dieter grins.

You feel him slip under the covers, shifting nearer to you until his breathing is fanning over the back of your neck.

His hand tentatively rests at your hip, tensing. He remembers last time the two of you were together in bed, you snuggling up to him, kissing his shoulder, holding him. There was nothing sexual about it, just comforting. He wants that again.

"Would," he starts, feeling embarrassed. "Would it-"

"What?"

"Would it be okay if I held you? Not trying anything," he quickly adds which makes you smile in the dark. "I just like holding him."

Your smile fades. He doesn't want to hold you. He wants to hold the baby.

Of course he does.

You want to quell the beating of your heart. You want to remind yourself that this is transactional.

But more than that you want to be held by him.

You want to inhale the scent of his cologne and feel the ridge of his nose grazing your neck. You want to feel his hand curl against your stomach. And most of all you want to fall asleep with the man who helped you to create this life you carry.

"Yeah," you shuffle back against him. "I'm sure he misses you."

It's a silly thing to say especially since the baby doesn't even know it’s a baby yet. But Dieter grins at the comment, holding you.

"I missed him," he murmurs, hand grazing softly against your abdomen.

Guilt gnaws away at you though.

"Would Mia be okay knowing you're in here?" You whisper in the darkness. "I mean, I know nothing is happening, I just mean... You know."

"Yeah. Pretty sure she dumped me." Dieter supplies. He feels you tense in his arms, tilting your head over your shoulder to stare up at him concerned.

"What? Really?"

"Yeah," you feel Dieter shifting behind you, his large arm coming to wrap tighter around your waist. "Says she needs time to process everything."

“Doesn’t sound like breaking up.”

“Trust me,” Dieter sighs. “I know a break up monologue when I hear it. I’ve given enough of them.”

“Oh.”

You think on this, hand sliding under your pillow. Dieter sounds resigned, like this isn't necessarily something he wants.

"You're okay with it, Dieter?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe it was for the best," you offer, trying to cheer him up. "I don't know that monogamy was ever your thing."

The moment stretches between you both, the room quiet. Dieter has found your left hand, his thumb coming to absently rub the ring you wear there. The ring he bought you that you never take off. The ring that if you knew how much it cost you would never wear for fear of losing it. He loves seeing it on your finger, knowing that something he bought you ties you to him in some way.

"For the right person it would be," Dieter finally offers in a soft rasp. Before you can say anything he's flicking the lamp next to the bed off.

"G'night."

"Night."

Dieter wakes the next morning when the scent of your perfume on the pillow. He cracks his eyes open to see the bed empty and he feels a stab of disappointment.

He showers before pulling on his clothes and robe and padding into the kitchen. You're sitting there, backlit by the sun and when you look up from your cereal bowl and cast a bright smile in his direction he feels momentarily breathless.

You’re so fucking beautiful.

"Morning, ready for a painfully long flight home tonight?"

"Y-yeah," Dieter stammers before pouring himself a cup of the brewed coffee.

You watch him looking anxiously around as he dumps the sugar into his brew before taking a seat opposite you.

"So I was thinking about the Mia thing," You offer after a sip of tea. “She loves to travel right? Like, outside of work?”

“Yeah,” Dieter nods enthusiastically. "Last week she actually suggested we go on a trip together after the film wraps."

“So do it,” you insist. “Show her with action that you want and cherish her. Just the two of you somewhere romantic. Where does she like? Paris? Italy?”

“She was always talking about Prague,” Dieter offers as he recalls their times together. When they were first getting to know one another under the pretense of running lines. “She’s always wanted to go.”

“So take Mia to Prague,” you say enthusiastically as you can manage. “See the sights, stay at wonderfully fancy places, do romantic things. Prove to her that you want to be with her. Because she obviously means something to you Dieter.”

“You seem awfully concerned about my romantic life,” Dieter muses. “When did that start?”

“Contrary to what you believe, I care about you,” you say shortly. “And when I’m gone I want to make sure that things are stable. Mia is a good stabilizing force. And from what I can tell she’s a lot tougher than I gave her credit for.”

“So Prague,” Dieter echoes, thinking about your suggestion. It’s a good plan. A smart one if Mia will give him a chance to prove how much he cares about her.

“I won’t lie I’m jealous,” you smirk at your cereal bowl. "Always wanted to go there."

I'll take you. I'll take you anywhere you want to go.

Dieter shakes his head to erase this dangerous thought.

No. No you won't, Bravo. She's leaving practically as soon as your kid is here. Stop thinking about her like that. She's your employee.

"Well you'll have three hundred thousand dollars to play around with," Dieter says forcing a smile to his own face.

"Two hundred," you correct through a mouthful of cereal.

"Huh?"

"Well uh, I have to pay off my mom's mortgage. There's still about a two hundred thousand left on it. Then I have to pay off my student loans the next semesters' tuition and rent a place so... No trips to Prague for me."

You give a little huffing laugh before going back to your cereal. Dieter takes a long sip of his coffee thinking about everything that’s gone on.

You begin to tap into your tablet, bringing up your flight details. Dieter watches you typing, transfixed by the way your fingers move, the way the ring he bought you sometimes spins on your finger. He recalls the way those same fingertips felt gripping him as he licked-

Fucking stop.

"Okay, that's done; the car will be here around three. Bags are packed, your passport is with mine," you say checking things off your list with a satisfied smile before it drops. “And our meeting with Diane is in ten.”

“Diane?”

Diane is the big guns when it comes to PR and Dieter’s career in general. Knowing that you’ve pissed her off stresses the both of you big time. And as if you’ve summoned a well organized demon the laptop chirps.

Seconds later you and Dieter sit awkwardly next to one another at the kitchen table, your laptop positioned between the two of you. A furious looking Diane is on the zoom call, her dark red brows knitted together.

"I thought I was perfectly clear."

"You were Diane," you jump in, your cheeks red. "It's-"

"No public affection," Diane interjects. "No fraternizing with co-stars."

Dieter gives a sheepish grin at that before his eyes jot to you. You can't even look at him in the small box of the zoom meeting. You feel so foolish about all of this. All your years of professionalism, striving to have things under control and this is how it ends? A blurry snapshot of you kissing your celebrity boss?

"The baby kicked for the first time," Dieter offers quietly. "We were just really excited."

"Congrats," Diane says without a shred of conviction. "Now we have a PR nightmare that we have to spin."

“I know we screwed up, Diane, but I swear it was a heat of the moment,” you implore her. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t. As of this moment you are no longer working for Dieter Bravo.”

“Hey-“ Dieter starts but Diane is talking over him.

“You wanted to keep her on Dee, and look what happened. And now we can’t even keep you on the books because it’ll look suspicious,” Diane snaps. “You can’t be seen fucking and paying your assistant, it’ll be career suicide. I’ll have to pay her wage through a third party and I really didn’t need this headache considering I was already finished up on a plan for unveiling baby Bravo and now I have to rethink the entire thing.”

Dieter looks over to see your head hung low, your cheeks stained red. He knows how much this is killing you. How much you prided yourself on your work acumen and professionalism. He tries to slide his hand over yours but you pull away sharply, eyes going to Diane.

“I understand, Diane. Just tell me what I need to do.”

The flight back is a strained one. Diane has booked you both first class and private pods but across the plane from one another. You don’t interact the entire flight; instead you’re left to your own thoughts as you absently stroke your stomach.

You have a few things in your favor – it was getting close to having to stop working anyway. You’re officially showing and you’re still getting paid. That money can all go to the family.

The family.

Your mother’s voice over the phone rings in your ears. The shrill terrified shout that this couldn’t be true. You’ve disappointed her. You have to explain it all to her as soon as possible. It’ll be easier to just tear the band aid off.

Dieter rests in his own private pod three whiskey’s deep, his swollen eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He’s been holding back tears all morning and now they slip down his gold cheeks in the privacy of the flight.

He doesn’t get to see you or the baby until he’s born. It’s a fucking cruelty.

“If you want her to have a normal life, Dee, you’ll stay far away from her. She needs to be seen as a surrogate only, not a romance. We can write the kiss off as a one-time thing if we find an alternative romantic partner to highlight for you.”

Of course he’d agreed immediately. He doesn’t want you or the baby stressed. It’s his own fault for wanting you so badly it aches. You promised to update the app daily, to video chat at least every other day. That had seemed fair.

But now on the way back to LA, Dieter can’t help but feel this growing pit starting in his belly. A coldness that has nothing to do with the weather. He’s not going to see you every day, won’t be able to smell your perfume, hear your voice when you sing in the shower (off-key), won’t snuggle you to him as you watch nature documentary’s.

At least before this photo Dieter had the option of going to your house to see you in the last few months of your pregnancy, but now with the media frenzy there’s no possibility. It’ll be horrible for you and your mom.

Once he’s off the flight Dieter’s phone is buzzing. He takes it out, surprised to see that Diane has already sent him a few texts. He’s confused before he remembers that without you as his PA he’ll be receiving her messages directly.

[12:33pm] I talked to Mia’s publicist. She’s agreed to a public romance rollout this Friday. New club opening. Confirming your availability.

Dieter glances over at you in the luggage carousel, eyes flitting from bag to bag as you wait for yours. You look like a goddess despite your dark black clothes and oversized sunglasses. He knows you’re trying to be inconspicuous.

[12:34pm] D: I’m available.

You’ve got your luggage and Dieter scrambles to grab his own before rolling it over to you. You notice his approach and try to affect a casual attitude. Thankfully no one seems to recognize you from the photos.

“I’ll make sure you get into your taxi,” Dieter offers quietly walking alongside you, his brows raised.

“No it’s fine,” you insist, taking your rolling luggage and giving him a soft smile. “I’ll be good. I’ll head out first; hopefully if there are any paps they won’t recognize me before I’m in the cab.”

“Right.”

When you walk out of the airport you think of all the things Diane warned you about over the phone. The photographers, the yelling, the attention. You thought you were ready for it.

You were wrong.

But there are at least fifty paparazzi all hanging around like flashbulb vultures waiting to catch you both looking vulnerable. Groups of men with oversized cameras are all shouting at you, calling your name, saying things to get your attention.

"Over here! Hey, over here!"

"Have you two picked out names yet?"

“Did you put holes in the condom?”

"Do you know the gender?"

“Do you sleep with all your employers?”

"Is it twins? It looks like it could be twins."

You feel anxious tears starting at the corner of your eyes. They’re going to photograph you and you’re going to be crying. You still in the crowd, hand on your luggage strap, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

The taxi seems so far away, the lights, the sounds; the sensation of being suffocated is all you can focus on. You feel like you’re drowning. Your chin wobbles and another camera is thrust directly into your face.

One hand curls over your belly protectively before you raise the other to shield your face. You feel completely alone and vulnerable, the tears almost spilling when you feel a warm hand envelop your wrist. You glance up to see Dieter there at your side, stony faced at the paparazzi as he pulls you gently towards him.

“Give her room to breathe.”

Gratitude floods you and despite Diane’s directions to avoid each other like the plague you let him lead you towards where his private SUV waits.

His arm goes to your back, urging you to move with him. As you and Dieter shuffle through the throng of shouting people you suddenly understand why Dieter drowns himself in drugs and sex and everything else. This constant whirlwind, this unbearable attack on all sides is exhausting. Photographers, fans, cameras, eyes, shouts. It's terrifying.

"Is this the result of a one night stand?"

“Dieter have you asked for a DNA test?”

“How old are you?”

“DIETER I LOVE YOU!”

“Did you feel pressured because Mr Bravo is your boss?”

“Can I have your autograph!?”

“What a slut!”

“What’s the sex like?”

A camera is thrust inches from your face and you give a yelp, putting up a free hand in front of you as the light flashes.

"Hey, get the fuck away from her," Dieter says placing a protective arm around your waist and sweeping you along with him. He doesn’t let you go as he herds you through the line of shouting people. Dieter’s driver is there, grabbing your bag for you and loading it into the SUV.

“Just breathe, baby,” Dieter murmurs against your temple. “I got you.”

You want to tell him that this will look bad in tomorrow’s gossip column; that even just walking side by side will create a frenzy of tabloid speculation. But you’re terrified at the mob of people and your hand clutches at the front of Dieter’s jacket as you shy away from them.

"Are you really pregnant or is this a publicity stunt?"

"Dieter what about rumors that you've been linked recently with Mia Rowe?"

"It's it true this child might be Robert Pattinson’s?"

When the last photographer starts shouting and shoving the camera in your face again you let out a small whimper as Dieter opens the door of the SUV for you.

“Please just stop!”

Dieter hears your cry and turns to see your terrified expression before you’re burying your face in Dieter’s shoulder.

Dieter loses all rational thought. All he can focus on is the way you’re trembling in his arms, the way your hand has gone protectively over your stomach protecting his son, the child you made together.

Before you can stop him he's reared back and kicked the photographer in the vee of his legs and the man blanches. You look on in horror at the altercation.

"Dieter!"

Flashbulbs are going off like crazy as the man groans sharply, grabbing between his legs and collapsing onto the sidewalk.

“I said stay the fuck away from her!” Dieter shouts, his cheeks red.

He pulls himself in after you, closing the door before his arms are around you, pulling you against him. The windows are tinted, but that won’t matter after that little performance out there.

“Ready to go Mister Bravo?”

“Yeah, thanks Hank.”

The car is already in motion, heading for Dieter’s place as the sound of shouts grow quieter and quieter with each passing mile. You’re still shaking, still reeling from everything that happened.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “That must have been terrifying. I’m used to it now but I remember how it used to be.”

“How do you do it?” you ask, still trembling. “They’re relentless.”

“Coke. Sex. Booze,” Dieter shrugs as if this is a natural response. “I get by. But it doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Dieter has his hand holding yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles along the back of your palm.

“And here I thought my Mom was going to be the most stressful part of today,” you say trying to offer a weak smile.

“Is it really going to be that bad do you think?”

“Honestly yeah, I do,” you say nodding. “She’s going to be pissed and I’m going to have to walk on eggshells until the baby is born.”

"Why don't you stay in my guest house?"

You gaze up and over at Dieter, seeing that he’s watching your face with a soft expression as the car coasts through the busy LA traffic.

"What?”

"You don't want to stay at home, I have the empty space. I don't see why that's so weird. And if I’m honest I don’t wanna be so far away from my son,” Dieter finishes lamely. “I like seeing him growing every day.”

I like seeing you every day.

He can’t admit that to you. He never will. He’ll swallow it down deep.

“I have to go home, Dieter.” You insist. “Plus, Diane would murder me. This flies in the face of everything she’s trying to cultivate for your image.”

Dieter doesn’t say anything, but he does relax back into the seat next to you. He doesn’t release your hand, instead he maneuvers his fingers, lacing them through yours and resting them on the seat between you both.

You tell Hank your address and you take a deep breath as a short while later he rounds on your street.

Your Mom wasn’t joking.

There really are tons of people littering your normally quiet suburban neighborhood. Many with expensive looking cameras and phones. You groan as the SUV crawls by them before you insist on having the Hank drive you around the corner. The last thing you need is to be seen getting out of Dieter’s car.

Hank goes to take your bags out of the trunk and Dieter readies himself to follow you out the door.

“I’ll come-“

“No,” you insist gently. “I have to do this myself.”

He wants to deny this but he sees the seriousness of your countenance and nods. He knows you’re a strong, capable woman. But the thought of you being messed with by those paps are making his jaw clench.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him with a grin as you slip on a pair of oversized sunglasses. “Thanks to you I know how to get them to leave me alone.”

He can’t help but let out a short laugh, cut short when you close the car door. Dieter watches you take the suitcase handle from Hank and thank him before you roll it down the sidewalk and out of his life for the foreseeable future.

The first thing you notice when you get inside your house is how quiet it is.

Especially compared to the madness that is just outside your front door. You’d successfully ignored the men and women who shouted questions at you. You were busy on the phone with the local police ensuring that your Mother’s home would no longer be swarmed. You slide your suitcase to the left of the door.

“Mom?”

She appears moments later dressed in her sweatpants and oversized sweater. She hasn’t left the house despite it being a workday.

“Your flight was okay?”

“Uh, yep.”

“Good.”

“You didn’t go to work today?”

“Couldn’t get my car out of the driveway,” your Mom says tightly.

“I called the city when I was walking up,” you tell her, toeing off your shoes. “They’ll take care of it.”

She nods but makes no move to smile or to hug you. She’s always been an emotional woman, prone to hugs and kisses so her complete lack of anything has you on edge.

“I made pie,” she says, “come have a slice.”

You hear distant sirens outside as you follow her into the kitchen, taking your coat off before plopping into seat opposite her at the table. You don’t miss how her eyes widen at the obvious swell of your stomach.

“So it’s true.”

You watch her cut the peach pie she’s baked noting that her fingers are trembling. You say nothing in reply, simply watching as she slides your portion and a fork to you on the plate before she looks back at your face.

“You made a child with that horrible man.”

“He’s not a horrible man,” you say, your voice coming out more caustic than expected. “You don’t know anything about him other than what the media wants you to think.”

“Oh, he’s an angel then, is that it?” your Mother gives a humorless laugh as she sits in her seat, the cheap wood creaking. “He doesn’t do drugs? Doesn’t say crazy things? Doesn’t act like a fool?”

Your mother has always ragged on Dieter through your entire employment. Most of the time you could shrug it off, ignore it or even laugh along with her. But now? After everything you’ve experienced with him you feel a strangely intense feeling of protectiveness. For the soft man that holds you in bed and buys you rings just because. For the man that listens to you talk about your Dad and shares about his mom. Hearing her deride him makes you curl your fingers around your fork in anger.

“Even if he did all those things, so what? If the worst thing you can say about Dieter Bravo is that he acts immature and says silly things and does drugs every once in a while does that really make him so horrible?”

“It makes him irresponsible,” your Mom snaps. The worst possible thing you can be in your mother’s eyes in irresponsible. “And he’s supposed to be the father of your child? Of my grandson? I’m not going to have a son in law that acts like he does.”

A son in law?

You could laugh at the thought of Dieter being a married family man. When would he have time to go on hippie retreats and have threesomes? Although considering his behavior of late perhaps that’s an unfair belief. Regardless, Dieter Bravo is not the marrying kind.

"Mom we're not getting married. Ever."

Your mom's fork clatters onto her plate, the pie forgotten.

"What? Why not?"

Fuck. This is going to hurt so much more than you thought. Hearing your Mom refer to herself as a grandmother is a new kind of pain you weren’t anticipating. You can see it there in her eyes that keep lingering on your belly – all the hopes and dreams of grandchildren running through her mind.

“We’re not in a relationship.… this isn't... I'm not keeping the baby," you finally manage to say in a thick voice.

"What?” Your mom nearly shouts when she looks to your swollen stomach, her features contorted in horror. "You can't just get an-"

"No, not like that. I mean, I'm giving the baby to Dieter. He's paying me to be his surrogate."

Saying it out loud makes your heart hammer. If you thought she looked horrified at the previous comment, she looks downright disgusted now. She leans back in her chair, as if she physically cannot stand to be closer to you.

"What?"

"I'm getting paid," you explain in a rush, hoping that this will ease the pain of it. "Three hundred thousand dollars."

You expect that this will soften the blow of the news but if anything she looks as if she’s been slapped.

“You’re… selling your baby?”

The way she says it makes your skin crawl, like you’re some backroom monster.

“It’s not like that,” you say raking your hands through your hair in frustration. “Mom, I’m not like, his Mom. I’m just carrying him. Like, remember when Liz had the surrogate? I’m like that girl they hired.”

“Liz didn’t let her husband sleep with that woman did she? They did it at the hospital, with a transfer,” Your mom peers into your face and you think you see a shadow of hope. “Is that what happened, honey? You got an embryo transfer?”

Fuck this is getting worse by the minute.

“No. We slept together. It was a mistake.”

You wince when you feel your son kick, a light flutter that has you gripping the sides of your abdomen in surprise. Guilt immediately goes through you – can he understand what you’re saying during all of this? No, of course not, he’s a fucking fetus. And yet that doesn’t stop you from welling up.

"This is so…twisted,” your mom replies with a shake of her head. “It’s one thing to sleep with him and have his baby. But you… You’re not even going to be his mother? You’re selling him off like he’s a piece of furniture?”

A solemn quiet goes around the space and your mother drops her napkin to the table. You take a bite of your pie, finding it bitter.

“That’s not at all what’s happening.”

"If your father was here-"

"Well he's not!" you snap out at her. “You had no one else to take care of you so I stepped up. I see how long the hours are that you work, how exhausted you are. You’re supposed to retiring at this age, not taking on double shifts. I wanted to pay off the mortgage for you. I wanted to pay for my schooling. And Dieter wanted a child, so how is this pregnancy a bad thing? We all got something out of it.”

“Got something out of it?” Your mother almost sneers. “You don’t get something out of it. You created life and now you’re selling him for profit to a man who needs help staying sober longer than a week. It’s disgusting what the two of you are doing.”

A searing pain goes through you as you sit there, the pie dry and tacky in your mouth. It hurts to swallow it down. But it hurts more to know that your sacrifice is now being thrown back into your face.

“I did this for you,” you tell her weakly.

"I never asked you to do anything for me," your mom says and now you see the shame in her eyes. The disappointment. “It’s disgraceful treating human life like a commodity. I… I can’t accept that money from you. It’s tainted.”

I did it all for nothing.

You feel numb. Your Mom has lowered her chin to her sternum and you can see fat tears slipping down her nose. She’s silent as she cries and when she does this it reminds you so much of your father’s funeral and the way she’d silently sobbed that you feel physically ill.

You can’t be in this environment. Not just because it hurts so much to have her talk to you like she has. But because you can’t spend the next several months on eggshells, high strung and anxious. You can’t do that to the life that is building itself within your womb, cell by cell. You will give your son every advantage you can.

"I can't be in this house," you say softly. "I'm sorry, mom. I... I can't."

“I think that might be for the best,” she agrees, and you notice that she can’t meet your eyes.

You move to your feet wobbling to your bedroom, closing the door gently behind you. You look at the awards on the desks, the beautiful painting you look at each morning, at the space you lived in with your Mom and Dad. You can almost hear his voice as he told he was so proud of his smart daughter and her science awards.

If you try you can remember how it felt to have him read you bedtime stories before you fell asleep in this very room. You can still smell the cinnamon bread your Mom would make you every year for your first day of school.

But then you blink and all you see is a room with a bed and a desk and some art on the walls. A past life of someone who doesn’t exist anymore. You catch your reflection in your dresser mirror, amused to see that the woman staring back at you hasn’t been a child for a long time. She stands with a splotchy face and tired eyes, and a stomach that swells with life.

“You’re gonna be safe,” you tell the bump in the mirror. “I promise.”

You glance out between your drawn blinds thankful to see that the group has been dispersed by local law enforcement. Good. You bring out your mobile and begin tapping out a message.

[4:31pm]: Is that offer of staying at your place still on?

D [4:31pm]: i'll send a car

You don’t even fight him on it.

[4:32pm]: Thank you.

D [4:32pm]: u never have to thank me

You make your way to your closet where you bring out a second suitcase, filling it to the brim with everything you think you’ll need for the next little bit. Your suitcase full of clothes from your last trip is waiting for you at the front door for when you exit.

You sit on the end of your bed, waiting for the car when you feel your phone buzz at your hip.

It’s a photo from Dieter, one that makes your brows saddle. It’s of his guest house, the one he usually just keeps for out of town guests and overflow storage for his paintings and other purchases.

But you can see he’s organized it, swept the floors and set everything up nicely complete with a vase of fresh flowers from his garden sitting on the coffee table.

D [4:56pm]: ready and waiting, baby mama

Your hand is on your abdomen without thought, gently holding your son through the tendons and tissues. You give a watery smile at your screen before looking down at your belly, feeling a sense of relief bloom behind your sternum.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, little one. Your Dad is gonna take care of us.”

TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dad!Dieter #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x you #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble

177 notes · View notes

bloodhoundluke · 6 months

Text

drunken smiles & fishnet stockings

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

description: it's halloween and luke is hosting a party! luke and y/n know each other, but little do they know that this night would change something pivotal between the duo.

warnings: 🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sex talk, smut, protected p in v, alcohol consumption, cursing, fluff, an embarrassing amount of pet names. (i don't think there’s anything else??).

word count: 5,8k-ish. a/n: hey there friends! 🌟 i wanted to publish this fic before publishing requested & other fics, i'm working on all of them so pls be patient! and this is my first fic which contains smut so there's a huge chance this sucks (i'm actually nervous to release this pls help me i'm scared lol) 😬 also, i have a lot of deadlines atm so pls bare with me, i am working on the requests whenever i can. thank you for supporting my blog, i adore you all so much 🤍 happy late halloween to everyone who celebrated 🎃

dividers by @silkholland.

"Y/N!", you heard your best friend yell from the other side of your studio apartment. You had been getting ready for nearly two hours, and to one one’s surprise, you and your best friend were already late. Calum had been texting you for a while now, telling you two to hurry up.

"What?"

"We are so late! We need to get going! Oh my god, this is so embarrassing", your best friend sighed and now stood next to you. You were still fixing your hair in front of a full body mirror.

"Okay okay, stop fussing. Do I look okay?", you asked them and placed the curling iron on top of your drawer, shutting it off. You reached for the hairspray sitting on the drawer, and looked over at your friend who looked absolutely stunning.

"Yes, you look amazing Y/N. If I wasn't your friend I'd totally hook up with you", your friend cheered and nudged your shoulder gently.

"Gosh, thanks. I'd totally hook up with you too", you giggled and took a glimpse of their police costume. You ruffled your hair slightly and placed some hairspray on your locks to hold them in place.

You locked your hands with your friend’s, and got into the cab that was waiting outside.

You had been invited to your friend Luke's Halloween party. You had met him a few years prior through your mutual friend Calum, who was also his bandmate and one of his best friends. Calum and you had known for four years or so, and you considered him to be one of your closest friends. You considered yourself lucky to have a friend like him, since you could tell him anything and you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You looked through the cab window with the city lights passing by. You wondered who’d be at the party. Luke must have sent invitations for hundreds of people, since he was a pretty popular guy. You found the guy and his shy-ish exterior rather charming, but only in a platonic way. Luke and you weren’t extremely close, but you exchanged text messages every now and then.

You arrived at the party and looked at the sea of people, who were mingling with each other in their Halloween costumes. Luke’s house was decorated in decorative spider web, pumpkins, and some skeleton figures. Purple lightning illuminated the whole house. You liked the decorations, it wasn’t too much or too little.

You and your best friend decided to go and say hello to Calum and his group of people. Calum hugged you tightly and commented on how he hadn’t seen you in ages. His girlfriend, Brandy, did the same. They were wearing a matching set of vampire costumes. You were happy for Calum, he had finally found a girl who loved him just the way he was.

You walked over to Ashton, Michael, Crystal and Luke. Ashton was dressed in a cowboy costume, which made you smile a bit since he practically dressed like one in real life. He brought you into a bear hug and you couldn't help but smile. Ashton always made you feel so welcomed. Michael and Crystal goofed around in their Anime costumes. You catched up with them and then finally noticed something familiar about Luke’s costume. It was a Harry Potter costume.

No fucking way.

"Cool costume", Luke commented as he saw you eyeing his Gryffindor badge, and the lightning bolt on his forehead. His hair had grown out a bit, but it didn't look bad. Actually, it looked anything else than bad. That man could definitely pull off any hairstyle, you were sure of it.

"Thanks! You too. Suits you", you stated and straightened your own Gryffindor badge on your costume. Dressing as Ginny Weasley, or what you called it low-budget Ginny since you had no cape, was a decision you had made a few days ago. You were supposed to dress as a Pumpkin, but you managed to break the costume and didn’t have the time to fix it. So the second best option was Ginny.

You sighed and looked around the room, thinking of grabbing a drink.

“Oh my gosh! We need to take a picture of you two”, your best friend suddenly exclaimed and you giggled, nervousness plastered all across your face. You saw them giving you the look, and knew instantly what it meant. They believed in fate, what you on the other hand called nonsense. You were sure Luke and you dressing in similar costumes was some sort of sign of “fate” to your best friend. Luke and you could never happen.

“Really?”, you giggled as you felt a knot in your stomach. Luke was sometimes difficult to read, and you weren’t entirely sure if he would conform to the idea.

“Yes!”, your best friend commented, and ‘totally’ and ‘absolutely’ from Michael, Crystal, Calum, Brandy and Ashton followed after. You and Luke both looked at each of them, then finally looked at each other. Your friends would never let it go, so you’d better just get it out of the way.

“Okay”, you accepted your defeat. “You okay with that?”, you confirmed Luke. “Yeah, sure, why not?”, he took a sip of his beer and placed the bottle on the counter, giving you a small smile.

You, Luke and your best friend found a spot in Luke’s house and you settled in with Luke against the white wall, as your best friend was holding their phone towards you two. Luke placed his other hand on your lower back, and you placed yours on his stomach.

“This okay?”, you looked up to him and shuffled a little closer to the man. You saw him eyeing your legs, which were covered in fishnet stockings. His oceanic blue eyes met yours, and you did your best not to drown in them. You hadn’t even chugged down one drink, and you were already a fool for some man. And worst of all, it was your friend. You blamed this growing lust for him on the Halloween spirit. Surely someone had once said that Halloween brings out feelings you don’t usually feel.

“Uh..yeah, sure”, he cleared his throat and chuckled. “You ready?”, he offered you a little smile.

“S-sure”, you returned the smile and you both stared directly at the camera.

“And say….cheese!”, your best friend cheered.

You took an awkward glimpse in Luke’s direction and both of you bursted out laughing. The photos shown afterwards were pretty cute, you had to admit that. And Luke’s hand on your lower back left you yearning for more of his touch.

Damn, you really needed a drink. And to forget Luke fucking Hemmings' hands.

—❦

After taking the picture of you and Luke, you had been mingling with people, eating, and drinking a few tequila sunrises. You had just settled into Luke’s living room to play Spin the Bottle, the classic party game. The group playing consisted of you, your best friend, Luke, Ashton, Calum, Brandy, Michael and Crystal. To be honest you were zoned most of the time, since you found the game a bit ridiculous.

Then you heard your name as the bottle pointed towards you. In your alcohol-infused state, you picked a dare.

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room”, Ashton dared. You heard a few encouraging comments coming from your friends, and Brandy gave you a wide grin. “Ash? Really?”, you squeaked, and gave him a deadly glare. “Well, didn’t you pick a dare, pumpkin?”, he asked and chuckled. Suddenly the rush of confidence you had seemed to fade out, and you mentally cursed the drummer.

“Okay”, you sighed, and looked across the room. The choice was obvious, but you didn’t want to give it away. So you pretended to consider your options for a while.

You got up from the floor, and got on your knees in front of Luke. You caught him looking at you, and he looked away. But then you leant to kiss him, and he kissed you back. The tingling feeling of him kissing you back flustered you. You shouldn’t like the feeling of his lips pressed against yours this much, but you did. His lips brushed over yours delicately, and your heart was pumping. It made no sense, but you loved every second of it. His beard stubble tickled you, but you didn't care. Not everyday you got the chance to kiss Luke fucking Hemmings, who was practically the hottest guy you had ever seen.

You backed away from the kiss first, then did Luke.

“Cool”, he let out a nervous chuckle and you did the same. Cool…really? You didn’t know if you should have been offended or relieved that the awkwardness of it was finally over.

“That was hot”, your best friend whispered into your ear as you went back to your place on the floor. “He’s hot”, you whispered back. The taste of pure tequila lingered on your lips.

“And Ashton’s so hot too”, they whispered. “Go get him, Y/B/F/N”, you advised, and winked at them.

The game continued and the next rounds were spent by hearing how Ashton’s favorite sex position was Basset Hound Doggy and Brandy’s biggest turn off in a relationship was controlling behavior. You also saw your best friend give a lap dance to the person who they fancied the most in the room, Ashton. They both seemed to enjoy it. Michael and Crystal had also shared a steamy make out session, to which you all cheered.

It was Luke’s turn next.

“Hmmm…okay. What is your biggest turn on?” Michael asked Luke and took a sip of his Corona, placing the bottle on the floor afterwards. Luke’s answer interested you, you had to admit.

“Ohh…got many. But neck kisses are a big one”, Luke slyly answered and gulped down his tequila. “Ohhh, that’s a good one”, Ashton agreed and you saw him looking in your best friend’s direction. You rolled your eyes slightly, and giggled to yourself. They would totally share the bed tonight.

Luke spun the bottle, which landed on Calum. He chose the truth. Luke didn’t come up with anything, so your best friend chose the question instead.

“Which two people in this group should hook up?”, your best friend asked Calum.

Oh my god, were they serious? You totally knew where they were getting at. But hopefully Calum didn’t understand that, or anyone else for that matter. You were safe, Calum would definitely pick Michael and Crystal. Or Ashton and your best friend.

“Well, the obvious choice would be Brandy and me. Or Michael and Crystal, but…I feel I want to stir the pot, I guess.. So… I think Luke and Y/N… I mean we saw the kiss Luke and Y/N had earlier”, Calum smirked devilishly at Luke, and then at you. The group around you chuckled, and seemed to agree with Calum as they were nodding their heads. But not you nor Luke.

“Okayyyy, so maybe Cal should stop drinking for tonight”, you chuckled, and Calum gave you a humorous smile, which screamed a polite fuck you, in return. You saw Luke looking down at his drink on the floor with a drunken smile on his face. He fiddled with his rings on his left hand. He looked up and directly at you, boring his eyes into yours for a milli-second. You wondered what was going through his head, since yours was filled with so many questions.

Why didn’t he say anything? Why was he so quiet? Did he find your kiss icky? Did he find you… repulsive? Why was he acting so strange?

—❦

The party was over and people had left Luke’s apartment, which was now littered with red cups, beer bottles and pizza boxes. You had been settling into a spare bedroom in Luke’s house. Ashton, Calum, Brandy, Michael, Crystal and your best friend were staying over as well.

You drank water alone in Luke’s kitchen, since everyone had already gone to sleep. The now quiet atmosphere made you feel at peace, and you smiled to yourself.

You enjoyed the brief moment of silence until a head of blonde messy curls appeared from the doorway.

Luke walked into the kitchen and gave you a tired little smile. He opened the refrigerator door and took a large water bottle, pouring it into a glass he retrieved from the cabinet. He placed the bottle back to the refrigerator and closed the refrigerator door as you were still drinking your own water.

You noticed how he had gotten rid of the jacket and the tie, leaving him with a slightly unbuttoned white collar shirt and dark gray pants. He had also wiped the lightning bolt off his forehead.

Standing here with Luke, in this terrifyingly awkward yet weirdly comforting silence, made you question your lust towards the man. Maybe it was just the alcohol running through your veins. That might just be the only logical explanation.

“Let me guess, you don’t want to get a hangover?”, you chose to break the silence.

“Hell no”, he sipped water, “did you have fun tonight?”. The blonde locked his eyes with yours and you looked away, your eyes now fixating on your ring-covered fingers.

You cleared your throat, and answered, “Yep, had a blast. And you?”.

“Yeah”, he smiled and you went closer to him, as you were about to place the cup in the sink. Your hands brushed against his as he was just about to do the same. You both placed your cups in the sink, and your eyes met his. You both stood in your places quietly, and for some weird reason, you couldn't help but look at his parted lips. And you noticed him doing the same, then his eyes studying yours.

Your heart started to race a million miles an hour. You weren’t nervous around the people you fancied, but Luke was a different story. He was the epitome of gorgeous, so you couldn’t really blame yourself, could you?

He turned his body towards yours, and you took a step closer to him. You didn’t know what you were doing. Hell, you didn’t know what he was doing either.

Luke let out a low chuckle and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip.

Yes, even a fool could tell you wanted to kiss him. But you weren’t sure if you should. And you weren’t sure if the man in front of you noticed that too.

Thankfully Luke had noticed your indecisiveness as he leant in for a kiss. You had imagined this after the kiss during the game, but now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe it. This was rougher than the last time. More passionate. More demanding. He moved even closer to you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. You felt his cold rings against your bare skin, but it didn’t matter. Not when he touched you like this, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and his tongue battling for dominance over yours.

He backed away from you, licking his lips.

“Fuck… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry”, he apologized and rested his body against the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean?”, you frowned your eyebrows. Was he being serious right now?

“It’d mess things up…if we go further. Shit, this on its own could make everything awkward...”

“What if…what if we just don’t think about the consequences? You want me, and I obviously want you”, you suggested. You didn’t want to think, not now. You didn’t want your growing lust for Luke to go to waste. It would be a shame if it did.

“Are you..sure?”, he scratched the back of his head.

“Yes”

“Okay”, he let out a low chuckle and took a step closer to you, studying your lips in the meantime.

“Luke?”, you looked into his eyes as you spoke.

“Yeah?”, he bored his blue eyes into yours, and placed his hands on your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already”

“Thought you’d never ask”, he whispered, his voice perfectly husky and seducing. His plump lips found their place on yours and you swore you had never kissed someone like him before. His lips moved swiftly, hungrily against yours.

You tugged his shirt, wanting to get rid of it as soon as possible.

“Luke?”, you asked, out of breath.

“Yeah?”, he wiped his mouth with his hand, and you couldn’t help but stare at the man’s mouth. The mouth that you wanted to do incredible things to you.

“What are we doing?”.

“What do you want to do princess?”, his voice was heavy, and hoarse. And so god-damn sexy. He moved a few stray hairs out of your face.

“Fuck…”, you cursed.

“...me?”, Luke smirked.

You were totally gone off the rails, so whipped for him, there was no going back now.

“Actually, yeah”, you decided to toss logic aside, and once again, Luke placed his lips hungrily on yours. You kissed him back passionately and he grabbed your ass under your skirt. You wrapped your hands around his neck, and felt the need to do such things to Luke you could never say out loud.

“Jump”, he groaned between the rough yet lustful kisses and you jumped into his lap. He grabbed you by your outer thighs and placed you on the counter. He left wet kisses on your neck, leaving you wondering why you hadn’t done this sooner with him. Maybe it was the fact you had known this man for years, and he had never shown you any sign of interest. But it didn’t matter now, he clearly wanted you.

“Is this okay?”, he reassured you.

“You’re perfect”, you sighed and stared at the beautiful man in front of you. Yes, you had always thought Luke was hot, but this was something else. You loved how soft and assertive he was at the same time. This was dangerous, anyone could see you two. But you liked it this way. You didn’t want to think, you just wanted him. You craved him. You needed him.

His lips found their way back to yours and you bit his lower lip by accident. You felt Luke giggling against your lips, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“Can I take this off?”, he asked between the kisses as he was holding the fabric on your shirt. “Please”. And he does, leaving your chest area covered by your black bra. You started to unbutton his shirt and when you were done, he threw the white collar shirt on the floor next to yours.

Luke traveled kisses from the side of your face to your neck, then to your chest. “Fuck, you’re so hot”, he remarked and you chuckled slightly as a response. Luke kissed you, and you kissed him, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You made out for a while until he decided to move the strap of your bra over your shoulder. He placed a few kisses on your shoulder, and you didn’t understand how he did it all this, being this fucking good at everything, but you enjoyed the show.

“Need to get my fishnets off”, you whimpered under his touch.

He ripped open your fishnets using his hands, and you swore to yourself you hadn’t seen anything as hot as that. You lifted your body using your hands on the counter so he could take the remains of the stockings off. And when he was done, he nibbled your ear and his heavy breathing made you squirm.

“Finger me?”, you asked as his lustful ocean eyes stared into yours. “It’d be my pleasure”, he smirked, pushing your lingerie to the side and pushing two fingers into you with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Fuck, you are so wet…so good, Y/N”, he remarked huskily and moved his fingers inside you in swift motion. You widened your legs so he’d get a better entrance. “Mmmmh”, you whimpered, your head tilted back and eyes closed. Luke trailed down kisses from your neck to your chest. You opened your eyes and his lips crashed into yours.

“Need you to fuck me, Luke”, you whispered into his mouth. “Believe me, I will. Just wanna make you cum first”, he whispered and kissed you. And in under a minute, you were a whimpering mess under his touch, him giving you a smug look. You swore you just saw the stars, no one had ever known your body like him. And it didn’t make any sense, this was the first time being with him. But it didn’t have to make sense, you were now with him and god, he made you feel incredibly good.

His fingers left your entrance and his lustful dark eyes met yours again. He brought his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them, still holding the eye contact.

”Baby, you taste so good... Fuckin’ incredible”, he mumbled.

”Fuck…”, you whimpered as you were still coming off your high and watching Luke taste you did not help to urge to feel him inside of you. Neither did the fact that you noticed his boner through his dark dress pants. What was this man doing to you?

“Wanna go to my bedroom?”, he suggested, and placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, giving you a small lingering kiss on your collarbone.

“Thought you’d never ask”.

You both grabbed your clothes from the floor and you went upstairs. In the upstairs hallway, Luke couldn’t resist but pin you against the wall, kissing your face like he had never kissed before. You grabbed his erected dick under his dress pants and stroked it slightly above the material, making Luke whimper. “Y/N…”, he started yet couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Mmmh? Tell me?”, you asked as you started to unbuckle his belt.

“Mmmmh, don’t tease me, Y/N”

“That’s bold of you since you started it...”, you pointed out.

“Mmmhhh…fuck, that’s true. Let’s go before I fuck you against this wall and everyone will hear it”, he gave you a quick peck on your lips, leaving you wanting for more. You didn't know Luke could be this smug, but it definitely turned you on.

Luke led you to his bedroom. You placed yourself on his California King, and looked around. You had never been in Luke’s bedroom. A few paintings hung on the dark -painted walls, a vintage record player rested on the dressing table and the TV across the bed covered most of the wall space.

Luke retrieved a condom from his wallet, which was resting on his night-stand and pulled down both his pants and boxers, revealing his hardened dick. In the meanwhile you got rid of your skirt, and underwear. He placed the condom on and you couldn't help but admire the sight in front of you. Luke tossed both his pants and boxers off to the floor. He placed his body on top of you, kissing you and making the kiss deeper as you slid your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues danced together and your anticipation for the following grew, even though you had gone through your high already. But maybe, just maybe, he could make you come twice. His lips parted from yours, and he looked into your eyes, his fingers traveling along your lips.

“You’re so damn beautiful”.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful too”, you answered, your need for him growing.

“You ready?”. You nodded and he slipped into you slowly as you kissed his neck. You detached your lips from his neck and tugged his hair, your hands exploring the softness of his curls. A few moans escaped from both of your mouths. How could he make moaning sound so damn good?

“Please keep on going”.

"Was planning on doing so, princess".

He thrusted into you, and your walls clenched against him. You saw him biting his lip, his eyes wide open, clearly enjoying the view of you. “Fuck, you are perfect. So tight around me.... So good”, he praised.

This would probably never happen again, so you decided to make the most of it.

You met his lips in a kiss and you slipped your tongue into his mouth, his own meeting with yours. His thrusts became quicker and you both moaned of pleasure. Your hands had moved to his upper back, your nails scratching the warm skin.

And when you both came undone, you cleaned yourselves up and laid in his bed. You both stared at the bedroom ceiling. Luke had asked you to stay, which had surprised you.

“I held myself back when you kissed me in the game”, the blonde confessed. You looked at Luke, whose left arm was leaning against the back of his head. Only now you noticed his bird tattoo on his bicep. You couldn’t see it properly in the dim lightning, but you were guessing it was a hummingbird. To be honest, there probably were a lot of things you didn’t know about him.

“Did you?”, you asked in a rather suggestive voice, and turned your body towards him under the covers.

“Well, yeah, have you seen yourself? Fuckin’ beautiful. I wanted to rip those fishnets off you the moment I saw you in them”, he chuckled and his eyes met yours.

You couldn’t help but feel flustered. Luke Hemmings, of all the people in the world, thought you were…beautiful?

“In that case, I’m happy I decided to wear them”, you giggled.

“I can buy you a new pair of fishnets”, he offered.

“You really don’t need to do that”.

“If that gives me an excuse to see you, then I’d like to”, you saw an endearing smile appear on his face.

“What if you break them too?”, you chuckled, not that you wouldn’t mind him doing that.

“Then I’d have another excuse to see you again”, he reasoned, and shuffled closer to you. You didn’t know if it was still the alcohol clouding your judgement, but you liked him. Maybe a bit more than you wanted to.

“Seems like you want it to be a pattern”, you suggested.

“Well, if it makes you scream like earlier…”, he smirked and took you in his arms, your face squished against his warm and toned chest. “Luke!”, you screamed into his chest.

“Hush hush now, everyone is asleep”, he kissed the top of your head, and chuckled.

“Sorry”, you giggled and wrapped your hand around his waist, snuggling closer to him. Your face rested against his chest, and he stroked your hair gently.

"Good night beautiful", he reached for your lips and planted a small kiss on them, then turning off the bedside lamp. "Good night, Luke".

—❦

“Quit starin’ at me princess”, Luke spoke with his eyes closed as you lied with him in his enormous California King bed.

“I can’t, you’re way too pretty”, you played with his curls, both of your naked bodies under the same duvet.

You had been awake for a while now, mainly going over the memories of last night. Luke’s lips pressed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your body, him whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he was inside of you. You had contemplated leaving Luke’s house, but you didn’t want to do it to Luke. And the change in Luke’s behavior towards you made you question his motives. He even let you sleep in his bed, and didn’t want you to leave to your room. Did he actually like your company? Or was he just lonely?

You removed your hand from his set of curls, and wondered what it must be like to be that beautiful. It was unfair how good-looking he was.

“Talk to me about pretty, huh?”, he opened up his eyes and scanned your face. “Hush”, you gave him a deadly glare and he grinned back at you.

“Tell me when did you get so freaking hot?”, you asked him.

“Haven’t I always been?”, he winked and readjusted the pillows on the bed, his face and body now towards yours.

“Yeah, but I mean…like this hot. Ridiculously hot. So hot I want to jump into your lap”

“Now you’re just makin’ a fool out of me”

“Am not! I promise”, you exclaimed. “I swear when I saw you last night, something happened inside of me. This lust, I guess…I don’t know what the hell it was”

“Well, thank you. Good to hear I don’t look like an absolute knobhead”, he rolled his eyes, and letting out a chuckle.

“And he’s funny too”, you giggled.

“C’mere”, he motioned you into his embrace and you laid there for a moment in silence, taking in the moment. This silence felt comfortable in some odd way. His fingers brushed gently against yours, moving to cup your face, his mouth telling you compliments you never expected to come from his mouth. You’re gorgeous. Your eyes are pretty as hell. I like cuddling you. You smiled back at him, not really knowing what to answer.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?”, you decided to break the newly founded silence.

“Nope. If that’s okay with you?”, Luke searched for your approval from your softened eyes, and you gave him that. “More than okay”, you smiled. You looked for something in his eyes. Maybe a hidden truth. You were his friend, but you didn’t know him truly. You did not really have an idea who he was deep in his core. But your instinct told you to find out.

"Good. Did you actually like my Halloween costume or were you just being polite?", Luke hummed, and placed his head into the crook of your neck.

"I thought you looked hot. And so dreamy... So yes Luke, I liked it", you beamed, and pecked his lips. "A lot", you added and caressed his pretty curly hair.

"You were a pretty dreamy Ginny yourself", he placed his mouth on your neck, sucking on the skin slightly, then placing a few sloppy kisses on your jawline. His breath started to become noticeably heavier, and you giggled, "Luke Hemmings, you are one hell of a guy".

After a while of lounging around with Luke, you both decided to do your morning rituals and throw some clothes on. Yeah, you might have hooked up with him again, only in the shower this time, and you felt as if you couldn't keep your hands off the blonde.

You and Luke had decided to go downstairs and cook something for breakfast, and now you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. Luke opened up the bathroom door attached to his bedroom, and you studied his features.

You couldn’t help but smile as he was humming some song you had never even heard of. He had a habit of doing that, making you smile. Or at least that was what he had been doing the past hours. And last night, obviously. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, which made you drool over him, and a black AC/DC t-shirt. He had also offered you an oversized band t-shirt to wear since your own shirt was a bit uncomfortable to wear. So now you were standing in front of Luke, wearing his oversized t-shirt and barely visible black skirt. You would have never guessed that something like this could actually happen.

“Ready?”, he asked, and you nodded. You were waiting for him to open the door, until he decided to turn around and he grabbed your face into his hands. He pressed a delicate and endearing kiss on your lips.

“Actually, now we’re ready”, he chuckled and finally opened the door. “You dork”, you giggled, the taste of his toothpaste lingering on your lips.

“No one should be up, it’s barely 9am”, Luke commented as you were walking down the stairs. “Yeah, there’s not a chance anyone’s up yet”, you agreed with him and you both walked into the kitchen, only to discover every single person that had stayed at Luke's sitting by the kitchen table.

“Good morning, Luke and Y/N”, Crystal greeted you two, to which both you and Luke responded.

Luke offered you a glass of water with a side of lemon and ice, after he had convinced you of how the drink makes a great hangover cure. You and Luke found yourself seats by the kitchen table, next to each other since they were the only ones not taken.

"Luke? Y/N?" Ashton opened his mouth.

“We fuckin’ heard you last night”, Ashton remarked as both you and Luke were caught up in your own worlds. And then you made sense of what Ashton had just said.

...Oh my god, had they really heard all…that?

Your best friend was sitting next to Ashton, and they were giggling with Ashton’s arm resting behind their chair.

You hadn’t talked this through with Luke. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t really even thought about if anyone had heard you last night.

“Oh you are speechless now, is that it?” Ashton giggled, making your friend, Michael, Crystal, Calum and Brandy laugh too.

“We really hope you Luke cleaned up the kitchen afterwards”, Crystal commented. “Just saying”, she added and gave a quick peck to Michael. Michael chuckled, and took turns looking at you, and then Luke.

“I did, don’t you worry about it Crys”, Luke scratched the back of his head, obviously feeling awkward as hell. You cleared your throat, wishing to be anywhere else than being questioned about your little rendezvous with Luke last night.

“And you used a condom?” Ashton asked, making Luke groan. “Of course, you fuckin’ moron”.

“Okaaaay, should we change the subject? Us having sex isn’t the most exciting topic”, you chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Even the handsome blonde beside you.

“It definitely did sound exciting last night…All the screams and objects fallin’ to the floor, all Y/N’s whimpers and Luke’s -”, Ashton remarked, but was soon interrupted by an annoyed Luke.

“Okay okay, we get it. We were a bit loud. But let’s move on, please”, Luke groaned.

"I want to hear more details though... Were the kitchen and Luke's bedroom the only places you had sex in?", your best friend took apart in the conversation, grinning from ear to ear. Y/B/F/N had to be kidding. And were the walls of Luke's house made of paper? "Yes", you answered in turn, trying to sound as convincing as you could. They didn't need to know about the shower session an hour ago.

”It was no wonder you ended up sleeping together, I mean you were drooling over each other the whole night”, Michael continued, and chuckled.

”You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me right now”, Luke cursed, obviously wanting the conversation topic to change sooner than later.

“Calm down, Hemmings”, Calum chuckled, earning a side eye from you and a deadly glare from Luke. “Okay, okay, I won’t say anythin’ next time”, Calum put his hands up in defense and grinned awkwardly.

You looked at Luke only to discover him looking at you, a small smile creeping upon his pretty pink lips. Next time.

a/n: hey please do share your thoughts on the gifs, did they disturb your reading experience? i’d love to know, ty! 🤍

#luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x you #5sos fluff #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #my writing #5sos x reader #5sos x y/n

348 notes · View notes