#slowly but surely making my way through these asks
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Celeste
FallenAngel!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader AU
summary: Heaven is not what they tell you. The celestials don’t live in harmony and the devil is not as far as you might think. He’s vicious in his ways to seduce every being - makes even the mighty fall from grace. And one of them happens to be your guardian angel. When James is banished from the heavens, he is forced to amend his sins on earth. What did he do wrong, you might ask? Well, he fell for the one he watched over.
a/n: I thought I’ve read a FallenAngel!Bucky fic on here before. But I couldn’t find it. So please, if you know it, tag me. Anyway, this is my take on the au.
word count: 20.2k (good lord, someone take my computer away)
warnings: this might offend some people (remember this is my fantasy world - I don’t know much about angels and the whole shebang), soulmate trope, the devil, also God?, jealousy/envy, mentions of killing and abuse, banishment and punishments, he falls first (literally lmao), fluff and wholesomeness, agony, angst (of course, with happy end!), smut (wingplay, Bucky‘s got heavenly dick, Virgin!Bucky, size kink, cum play) !MINORS DNI!
ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ
all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)
James.
Wake up, James.
Wake up!
The wind hits his lashes before he opens his eyes. He’s falling. He’s falling and there’s nothing he can do.
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s eerie outside, you note as your towel glides over the countertop. The entire window of the diner displays dark clouds. Dark clouds that will soon bring the heavy rain Old Lee has been mumbling about for days now.
Not too many people believe what the crazy farmer says but you can’t help but notice how much he really understands of the world.
Nick hits the little golden bell by the serving hatch and you take the fresh sandwiches to a table by the door.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“We’re good, honey.”
You just nod as your eyes stay focused on the small parking lot outside. You wipe your hands on your apron and return to the counter when the first drop of rain hits the window pane.
❁ ❁ ❁
Branches are aching beneath his weight when he crashes through the trees. A deep thud echoes in the woods as his body hits the ground. It’s raining.
Every tragedy needs rain.
❁ ❁ ❁
"Are you alright, dear?" Peggy, one of the regulars, a wise old lady, asks and points to your hand that's settled above your chest.
You clear your throat. "I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat." You nod with a tight smile. Something seems to have knocked the air out of your lungs. But you've been feeling like you are coming down with something for a few days now.
"Must be the weather," Howard comment's next to Peggy, and his newspaper crumbles beneath his touch.
You turn and refill their coffee mugs. "Yeah... must be." But you can't shake the feeling it has brought to you.
"It's always the weather." Peggy nods before the door to the diner opens and Old Lee enters, his muddy boots dirtying the checkered floors. You scrunch your nose. You'd be the one cleaning that up later, Scott surely won't do it.
"This ain't a normal April storm, folks." His hat tips before he sits at the counter in front of you. "You look like you’ve been trampled by a cow.”
"It's just the weather," you say and place a cup of hot tea in front of him. That's just Stan: brutally honest and strangely right about everything.
❁ ❁ ❁
Pain is strange. His feet get caught in the thorned bushes. Golden blood is the only evidence of his path.
And it’s slowly turning black.
❁ ❁ ❁
The storm outside intensifies, the rain hammering against the diner's windows with an unrelenting force. Old Lee's words linger in the air, stirring a sense of unease among the patrons. You glance outside, noticing the darkness creeping in as if it's swallowing everything in its path.
A shiver runs down your back as you remember how much Pietro would have loved this storm. Your mind drifts back to the memory of him. He always found solace in the chaos of nature, seeing beauty even in the fiercest storms.
But he's is gone now, lost to you in a way that is irreversible. The ache in your chest intensifies as you try to push away the memories, focusing instead on your tasks at hand.
Stan’s voice is low and gravelly when he murmurs again. "You can't outrun the storm, kid. It's coming for all of us, whether we're ready or not."
His words are chilling, but you shake it off, forcing a smile as you refill his tea.
"We'll weather this storm just like we always do." Peggy chimes in as her hand lands on yours with her calming touch. But your heart is hammering in your chest, still. Something feels off. As if a piece fell out of place, waiting to be discovered, and raving to make a mess.
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s cold and muddy here, no comfort in sight. But he’ll venture on until he reaches you. His soul is pulled to your very presence.
He needs to find you. Needs to amend his wrongs. Though is it really wrong to love?
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s dark out when you hang your apron in your locker and wave a short goodbye to Nick. Pulling your coat tightly around you in an attempt to brace yourself for the wind, you step outside into the deluge. The rain lashes against your skin, soaking you to the bone on your walk through deserted streets and cold concrete.
You sigh thinking about everyone that made it home dry, probably sitting in their beds right now, watching the rain roll down their window pane with a hot cup of cocoa in hand.
But that seems to postpone itself, you realize as you abruptly halt. You look around. This isn’t your usual route home. But something pulled you off your intended path and toward an unfamiliar alleyway. Confusion mingles with a strange sense of anticipation as you find yourself drawn deeper into the darkness.
Your head is screaming at you. This is dangerous. You shouldn’t be doing this. Why are your feet moving anyway?
And then you see it. Or rather... him?
A figure stands at the end of the alley, obscured by shadows and rain, but there's something about him that sets your heart racing.
"Hello?" you call out tentatively, your voice barely audible over the storm. You hate how weak you sound.
He steps forward into the dim light, his features illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dark hair and a strong yaw, wide muscular shoulders, his arms are adorned by silver cuffs. His whole being is well over six feet. But he seems even taller as something wide reaches from behind him, almost hugging his shoulders and prodding up towards the sky. He steps forward again and your breath hitches in your throat when you can finally make out the grey feathery wings standing from behind his back.
But you don’t run. You don’t even stumble back. Your feet are frozen to the ground. Then his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he says, his voice almost like a whisper to the wind. Calling and marvelous.
Everything inside you tells your how absurd this situation is. How fast you should be running anywhere but here right now. But the way your heart races doesn’t feel like fear. In fact, you’re not even scared. More fascinated, awestruck, intrigued. You know he wont hurt you.
“I don’t know you.” You manage to stammer, your eyes still locked with his. The tension overwhelming and electrifying all at once.
“Well, obviously.” He points to his wings smiling amused, a smile that you know holds a universe of secrets and promises. You want to learn them all, you catch yourself thinking as your eyes slip to his lips.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand,” he replies and it’s the first time his wings move behind him. “Just trust that we are connected in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.”
“Well?” You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of your chest, relieved your body is able to move again, though the pose feels rather awkward. “Why are you here?”
He seems shocked for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to play along so fast. And, to be honest, neither did you... at least a little.
“I need to...” His mouth falls shut again and he turns his head down to the side, shoulders heaving. “I guess I need a place to stay.”
“With me?” That’s insane. You know it is. But why does it not surprise you?
He nods, you shake your head. “I cant just accommodate a...” You gesture to him and he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Angel.”
“Right, of course.” You chuckle as you scan his body again. Only now do you see the torn clothes and bloody feet. Drenched through and through.
You sigh. “I don’t even know your name...”
His eyes are sparkling, the smallest of twitches making him look a little softer, tangible even. You’re not afraid of him. And it messes with your head. You should be scared, right? But all there is in your body is the steady tingle pinging from your heart back to your stomach.
“It’s James.” His smile is handsome when he reaches out his hands, offering you a better look to his toned arms.
Whywhywhy? “Alright.”
❁ ❁ ❁
James looks out of place in your rather small living room. His size dwarves every piece of furniture carefully picked out to make your house a home. He makes it look like a doll house just by standing in it.
But he doesn’t seem to care. James ducks when he passes through the door and you watch his feathers ruffle as they press themselves to his back in order to fit through.
You’re not sure what to do. Never in your life did you think you would end up in a situation like this. There is no protocol for hosting celestial beings. Though a how to angel dinner party guide would come in handy now. Did he even eat?
Something must be wrong with you. You let a total stranger into your house, even though your track record of people skills is not exactly the best. One that is borderline freakishly tall and has wings. Wings that look soft and beautiful. But strong and kind of intimidating as well. But why does he feel so safe?
“You’re staring.” James notes and a handsome grin spreads across his face.
“I’m not really used to having angels in my house to be honest.” The sarcasm is dripping from your tone in subtle undertones. But James seems to enjoy it. “Why are you here? On earth... I mean.”
He stares at the ceiling and his wings sag a little. “I have a mission, dearest.” He tells and his eyes meet yours. They’re deep blue and stormy - just like the sky. You can see yourself falling lost in them. His presence is all-consuming, making you shiver. It reminds you that the both of you are drenched from the rain. A puddle has formed around your feet and James’s wings guide the water droplets to your hardwood floor in two perfect circles. His hair is curling at the ends, in the nape of his neck and the water is also running down his throat, pooling in the remains of his shirt.
“What mission?”
“I cannot tell you yet.”
You nod, even though you don’t understand. But you don’t want to pressure him. “Do you need a shower? Or... clean clothes?” The second you ask you feel stupid. It’s silly right? Why shouldn’t angels shower?
Then again, the way he looks at you is one of surprise. “Yes, that would be good.”
“Good. Yes.” With a sigh you flee through the hallway to your room in search for some clothes.
❁ ❁ ❁
A shower. James is giddy. Human things have always excited him. He has been watching from the heavens for eons, never truly experienced them quite like this. But he’s intrigued. Especially when you offer them to him like he’s not an intruder in your life.
If things were different, you would never know he even existed. But James is guilty of happiness that he gets to meet you in person.
Up close, you’re even more perfect. You smell nice, your home feels cozier than anything he’s ever experienced, and your voice sounds just a sliver more comforting when its directed at him.
He is smiling like a fool, standing in your living room - the one he knows by heart but so much more personal now. And when you return to him with a pile of grey cloth, his heart skips a beat. You bring him the familiar warmth that made him fall in the first place. But having you within an arm’s length makes all of it feel worth it.
There is not an ounce of regret in him for being here.
Electricity shoots up his arm when you touch his hand. It’s cold and wet - he immediately vows to always keep you warm from now on - makes it his purpose to have you be comfortable for the rest of your life.
You lead him to the bathroom, grinning sheepishly when you gesture toward your shower.
“It might be a tight squeeze.” You point at the glass surrounding your bathtub. “But it’s all I can offer.”
“It will do just fine.” He reassures you.
“I will leave you to it then.” James is confused.
“Are you not staying?”
“Sorry?”
“To help me.”
“Help you... shower?” There is hesitance in your tone, but James truly doesn’t know how to turn the thing on.
“Well, yes.”
“I...” Your eyes are big, staring up at him through surprise and nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude. Give you some privacy to- oh.”
His clothes are already on the floor. He knows this much. Shower is something one does naked. But you seem to be shocked when his whole body is revealed to you. Do you like it? James is sure he looks as close to a human as a person with wings can. So why are you still staring at his stomach?
His eyes catch yours as they move a little lower, your eyebrows raising just that much higher and a smirk places itself on his face. So, you do like what you see. He confirms silently. Not that he particularly knows why. He never noticed people by their bodies - only their soul, because that is the important thing - the one that never changes.
And yours is the most enchanting of them all.
❁ ❁ ❁
You watch as James sit’s down on the opposite end of the sofa. He’s declined every offer you have made for him to feel a little more welcome. But he seems content. His smile hasn’t left his lips ever since you led him to the bathroom.
You couldn’t help but notice his body when he revealed it all to you. It’s like every inch of him is carved by the gods. He looks soft in the right parts, strong enough not to be skinny with his height. And his male parts. Well, they look more than satisfactory.
You felt like a pervert staring him up and down while he stood there with this kind of proud innocence to him, wondering if he understood how proud he could be of his looks. There is so much you don’t know about him. It’s not like you haven’t talked.
You have. But he speaks in riddles.
“You are staring again.” James notes and you immediately snap your head elsewhere.
“I’m just figuring this situation out, I guess.”
He smiles encouragingly. “You can ask questions. I imagine you’ve been eager to know more.”
You exhale long, taking courage to look him in the eyes. “And you will answer all of them honestly?”
“Honestly, yes.” His teeth find his bottom lip and you squeeze your thighs together. “I cannot promise to answer them all.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
A comfortable silence settles between you as you think of the first thing you could ask him. Maybe you should get the most obvious one out of the way. Maybe you should ask him more about himself, though you’re not sure how personal he can get if he spent his entire life in heaven. You just assume there is too much to do to pursue actual hobbies and such.
“Is there a God?”
“Starting with the light questions, I see.” You just look at him with intrigue. Already lining up all the other questions no-one else in this world has the opportunity to have answered. James sighs and then nods. “Yes, God exists.”
“Do you know God?”
He hesitates, his eyes fleeting to the end of the room and then back to you. “Yes.”
“Why did that answer take you so long?”
His jaw tenses and his eyes find the floor as if he was cursing himself for offering this situation. But then again, you haven’t heard him cuss once. Maybe you’re wrong. “It was under rather... unfortunate circumstances.”
You nod as if you understand. But you can only imagine. “So, he’s like the big boss, only getting involved when things escalate?”
James looks caught, his wings draw in closer. After a moment, he clears his throat and his feathers ruffle with a small shake. “First of all, it’s she/they. And second, ... I guess you could say that, yes.”
“I knew it.” You grin as the pride washes over you at this information. “Why did she never correct us?”
“Let’s just say mankind doesn’t have a great track record of enforcing things that go against their believe... Not that it would be believable if someone told the story of meeting an angel who told them God is a woman.”
“Fair point. That person would have probably been burnt alive.” You nod again, crossing your legs and turning to him on the sofa. James takes a moment to rake his eyes over your body, making you feel tingles all over. You clear your throat. “Speaking of torture... Why do we have war and world hunger?”
“Please do not take this the wrong way. Those are issues that very much concern God or anyone that want’s the best for her people, but she’s busy. She manages everything else that has gone south since.”
“Since what?” You partly enjoy the way James talks to you as if you are an insider, but you only understand half of what he’s saying.
“Since she and Lucifer had a big fallout.” He shrugs, but it just adds to your confusion.
“I’m not following.”
He rolls his eyes as if it were your fault you don’t know about this supernatural fight. “They had a disagreement. Lucifer’s response to God’s proposal was an ill-conceived frivolity which ended up becoming the patriarchy.”
To say you’re stunned is a serious understatement. “You’re telling me the devil threw a tamper tantrum and that’s why we have inequality? How did he even do that?”
James shakes his head. “...Yes. The trial is still in progress. But it may be calming to know that we have not figured out exactly how he convinced an entire species of males being the stronger part of it.”
“No, James. It is not calming to know.” You sigh and watch as he clasps his hands in his lap, his cuffs glistening in the lamplight. God, they’re big. You immediately scold yourself for thinking this, feeling weirds as the words of your mother echo in your head ‘Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain’. “What exactly has God done since then?”
The smile returns to his face and you readjust yourself on the sofa. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know how this world would look if she hadn’t kept busy with sorting it.”
Your nose wrinkles in a frown, as you check the points off in your head. “I really don’t think it can get that much worse. Climate change, mass genocides, what else could there be?” You not at each one just as James lifts up his fingers and opens his mouth as if he is starting to count.
But you stop him. “Pease don’t.”
“Yes that is probably for the best.”
It is silent for a moment as you try to process all the information you have just attained. It is a rather weird feeling. Knowing you know what no-one else on earth does and not being able to tell. Knowing there will be no-one believing you.
You sigh when your head starts spinning from how crazy this day has been. James seems to be rather relaxed considering he barely knows you. His dark hair falls around his face perfectly, the back of it forming a cute curl in the nape of his neck and your fingers itch to touch it.
But you refrain, reminding yourself that he is a stranger - and an angel. Beside the fact that he has not once reached out to you, just randomly touching his hair would probably be the weirdest thing to do right now.
“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly breaks the silence and you shoot a thank you to the sky for saving yourself from going down the mental rabbit hole of how soft his hair looks.
“Yes.”
“Why did you take me in?” James’s eyes are boring into yours so innocently. If it weren’t for the giant wings on his back, he would almost look like a normal clueless and incredibly cute guy. And yet he just revealed outerworldly gossip as if you were discussing the latest celebrity TMZ.
“I-“ you trail off, thinking about it for a while. You aren’t sure how much you can tell him. But James has been genuine from the start. It wold only be fair to do the same. “I felt like you needed me.”
A weird feeling takes over your body suddenly. Like a warm flush rushing through you. James fidgets in your peripheral and nods in understanding. “I did. I do.”
It’s like the reality of it all hits you like brick when a noise sounds from outside and his wings twitch, pushing over a pile of books on the cupboard behind the sofa. This is not normal, something tells you, and yet your stomach flutters in a way that feels a lot like butterflies. Everything about James is fascinating to you. You constantly fight the urge to reach out and brush your fingertips over every part of him. And for some reason, your mind tries to tell you that he would let you.
“Why are you really here, James?” You voice is only a whisper when the rattling outside subsides. It’s probably a raccoon or something. But James looks a little nervous all of a sudden.
“I’m afraid that is one thing I cannot tell you, love.”
You sigh. “I guess... I just want to help. Having you stay here doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There has got to be something you need to do.”
“That is very kind of you. I admire your bravery and openness.” His lips spread into a smile, his hand lifting from his lap as if he is about to place it on yours, but his fingers only strech and land back on the sofa between you. “But to be truthful, even if I knew what I had to do, I am not sure wether I would do it or not”
So he is a little deviant. You smile at the small observation. Maybe it’s the reason he is here in the first place. But you feel like you have asked James enough for tonight. Just on cue, a yawn escapes your lips.
“You should rest. It has been a long day.”
You nod, rubbing your eyes and rising from the soft cushions. “I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there.”
“That is fine. I do not sleep.” James shakes his head as he rises with you out of curtesy. With his hands clasped in front of him he looks like a goth painting.
“What? Never?”
“I am not human, dearest. My body attains energy in different ways.” You shudder again, blaming it on your sleepiness as you rub your arms when another yawn escapes you.
“Maybe you can tell me about it tomorrow. I am really tired.”
“I will be watching over you.” Your name passes his lips like a song, sending another shiver through you. What the hell is the matter with you. You huff as you catch yourself again. It really never occurred to you how often you referenced to the supernatural... “Take all the rest you can get.”
“Good night, James.” You nod and wave awkwardly.
“Good night.”
You know James’s eyes are only you until you disappear into the hallway. But you cant help but feel safely watched over with him around.
❁ ❁ ❁
They will find him, and they will send him further from you than he ever was.
❁ ❁ ❁
James hates the days you have to leave for work. He watches you with a sense of longing and resignation, knowing that he must find a way to navigate this separation once again. Though it is necessary he find a way to dodge the inevitable.
It’s the vexing thing about the celestial kingdom. They always leave one to find the laws on their journey. There is no book he could read on earth that could help him here. But he has seen the repercussions of disobedience, felt the weight of his transgressions bearing down on him like a heavy chain.
And yet, as he watches you prepare to leave for work, a sense of desperation gnaws at him from within. He wants to reach out, to beg you to stay, to keep you safe from whatever dangers may lurk beyond the safety of your home.
But he knows he can't. He's bound by duty, by the laws of God that dictate his every move. And so, with a heavy heart, he watches silently as you gather your things and head out the door, leaving him alone once more.
As the door closes behind you, James is left with nothing but the echoes of your footsteps fading into the distance. He knows he should use this time wisely, to prepare for whatever trials may lie ahead, but his thoughts are consumed by you, by the overwhelming need to protect you at all costs.
❁ ❁ ❁
There’s and angel in your home. And he’s so freaking attractive, it’s unfair.
It has been a week since you found James. And despite the incredibly irrational decisions of yours to invite him into your home, nothing bad has happened to you. Sure, the first night you might have dreamt about him. He’s everything your fantasy books described an more. And you couldn’t help but let that tiny romantic sliver of you hope for the more.
But James is more pious than any catholic boarding school kid you’ve ever met.
He seems to enjoy a good joke and he’s quite confident. But he never once touched you. And while that should not be one of your first concerns, considering he’s a stranger and an angel, something inside you tells you he’s holding back.
He never even flinches when you reach out to him. And the longing stares he sends your way make you shiver with anticipation. Yet there is no attempt to ever pull you in - even though you are so sure you were sending signals.
Maybe there are no signals in heaven. What are you even saying? Of course there are no signals in heaven. You don’t even believe dating exists up there.
“Yo, whaddup with ya today? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute.”
“Sorry. Feeling a little off today,” you mumble to Nick and retrieve the food waiting in the serving hatch.
“You can’t go home. I don’t wanna serve alone today.”
“Scott, there’s literally no-one here.” You gesture toward the few people sitting in their booths and sigh. “Besides, I never said I was going home.”
“Don’t get mad. You barely texted me back this week. What’s so awesome about your home when I’m not there with you?” You feel the heat rising to your head at Scott’s comment. “You’d think she’d call me if she ever needed to hide something.” He mumbles to Nick who just laughs and flips a pancake.
You turn to him with your fists by your side. “The weather is weird and cold, can’t I need a little down time?”
“Not from me!” Scott looks baffled. He’s your friend, and yes, you had other things to worry about than be on your phone this week. But you also knew he wouldn’t understand.
“You’re being a real pain in my ass today, Scotty.”
“Good, so everything’s back to normal then.”
You throw a towel in his face. “Shut up.”
“Cut it out, you two, there’s customers.”
Scott resumes to the back, effectively dodging his work and leaving you to serve the new customer. But your breath hitches in your throat when you look up from the counter.
James is standing in the door, already drawing looks of attention from a few people. He’s smiling back at them, even waving at a child before his eyes meet yours and your heart sets off again. It seems to always do that when he’s close.
You rush toward him, wrapping your fingers around his cuffed wrist and he audibly exhales.
“You can’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Because-“ you lean in closer and James bows down to get his face to your level. “You’re and angel.” You mutter under your breath and the sexy smile returns to his perfect lips.
“And how would they know that?” His eyebrow raises.
“You-“ you lean back, examining his shoulders - only then noticing that his wings are not there anymore. “How?”
“I only show myself to truly important people.” He winks and you stumble back a little, his sudden boldness making your legs feel like jello.
“What are you doing here?”
James looks around the diner as though he has not planned this far. His eyes swerve to the counter and then back to you. “I want to watch you work. I enjoy spending time with you.”
“But you can’t be here without ordering.”
“Then I will oder.”
“You don’t eat, James. Do you even have money?”
That seems to surprise him. “No.” You shake your head and look at the tiled floor. James’s wrist is still wrapped in your hand but there is no attempt to hold you. So you drop it. Why did he even come here when he won’t touch you?
“Please, beautiful. Let me stay.” His eyes are genuine, his lips purse in a plea. All you can think about is how weirdly lucky you are that this Adonis of a being chose you for his quest.
You bite your lip and watch him shudder. “Alright. Just sit by the counter and try to be inconspicuous.”
His smile spreads wide. “I’ll be as invisible as the air you breathe.”
You exhale and get back to work but unfortunately, his promise doesn’t last long. Before you know it, Peggy has chosen the seat right beside James. She’s leaning over to him at the counter and Howard just sits beside them with his newspaper in hand - as always. James seems just as invested in the conversation as Peggy and as you steal glances over to the pair of them, insistently hoping he won’t spill about his identity, you catch James’s eyes lingering on you.
“You are a fine young man, James.” Peggy's hand lands on his, tapping it in a grandmotherly manor, though her eyes are glinting with something akin to longing. She whispers something into his ear you cant make out and James’s eyes shoot to yours, his face tinting rouge from one ear to the other.
“And you are a remarkable lady, Peggy,” he clears his throat, his mind seemingly wandering elsewhere. “You remind me of a girl a friend of mine was in love with once.”
“Then he must have been the happiest man to ever live.”
Peggy’s hands tremble when she reaches for her cup of tea, her red lipstick taint the white porcelain as James watches her movements with a soft stare. He looks so protective of her, it makes your insides tingle. “He truly is, though he seems like he has forgotten about it lately. Is this your husband?” He gestures to Howard, who just slams the newspaper down in front of him, blank eyes staring at James while Peggy laughs and waves her hand dismissively.
“This rascal?” She presses her hand to her chest as she tries to calm down. “No, dear. My husband died a long tome ago.” She smiles warmly, floating in melancholy when she continues, “I never loved another man since. He was a heaven sent. Strong, kind, always worked towards the greater good... and his looks were to die for, too.” She winks and James chuckles.
“Oh I wish a love like that to everyone. Promise me something, James.”
“Anything.”
“If your find it, never let it go.” Her hand clasps around his biceps, her tone a motherly sternness laced with affection.
James eyes you again and it feels as if the air is shifting with tension. “My word is in God’s name, Peggy.”
❁ ❁ ❁
James feels the repercussions of his being on earth stronger every day. In heaven, he was miserable because he had to watch you live your life without him. On earth, he’s in agony because he knows, if he ever were to touch you, he would cease to exist.
It’s slanted. He gave up everything coming here and despite the fact that his wings stopped working the second he fell from the sky, he categorizes the uncertainty eating away at him as even worse. Hanging in limbo is more troubling than actually going to hell, he is sure of it.
He watches you move about your house with the same longing look torturing his features since he realized how much he needed you. It’s laughable how dependent on you he has become. While you go about your life with the minor change of having a roommate, James despises the unforgeable distance heaven has created between you.
You are friendly with him - you are friendly with everyone. James would even go as far as to say that you two are friends by now. But he wants so much more. So much more he cant tell you because even if you did know about his feelings, there is nothing either of you could do about it.
James sighs standing from the sofa, ducking his head when he passes through the doorway to you. You never questions when he just follows you around. The soul bond probably keeping the curiosity at bay if it feels anything like his experience. It feels good for no explicit reason.
You sort some bowls in your cabinet as he stands behind you, offering to place the ones higher up so you don’t have to struggle too much. “What’s heaven like, James?” You ask innocently through your movements. “Are there pearly gates and fluffy clouds?”
James loves when you say his name. It makes him feel closer to you than ever before. In a way, he equates it with your touch. Just as his saying your name is his way of reaching out to you.
“More like endless paperwork and celestial coffee breaks.” Coffee breaks. He learned about those a while ago and he loves the concept. “But hey, the views are to die for.” He gets lost in your eyes, remembering how much more distant they felt when he was watching from above and he is thankful to be this close to you now.
You smile smugly, and thats when the heart race sets in again. He’s sure you feel it too. Because your eyes avert and your hand places itself atop your chest.
You think something is wrong with you, he just knows it. It’s like the time you watched hours on hours of Gray’s Anatomy and then proceeded to research yourself into a frenzy about the sicknesses you might suffer. But James made sure then that there was not even a paper cut compromising you and he will do the same now, too.
He is desperate to tell you what it is you feel, that there is not much you can do and that he feels it ten times worse because he hates to see you suffer. But he needs to be careful about how much he reveals to you.
“Oh my god, I’m getting paranoid,” you mutter to yourself and James smirks at your small slip up. He has noticed how you try to minimize your references in curses. It’s cute, really, because he knows how much you used to do it. It’s a little bit amusing, the small deviant trait of yours making him feel like he has found something in common with you and he’s almost proud of it.
You collect yourself, quickly, breathing in deeply and then turning around to him. “I have to run some errands today.”
“Great, where are we going?” James asks with eagerness. Car rides excite him. He has always found them fascinating, but actually being in one is a whole new experience.
You bite your lip and for once, James does not feel the familiar tingle in his stomach when you do so. There is sadness sitting in your eyes when you answer him. “Actually...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lip just for your teeth to dig into it again and an unfamiliar tightness travels through James’s body. “It is something I need to do by myself today. I hope that is okay.”
The angel nods vigorously, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “Yes of course. I will leave you to it alone.” He steadies himself on the door frame and then heads to the living room where he grabs a book and settles on your window sill to look occupied.
“It is nothing personal, James.” Your head dips from the doorway and he looks up. “It's just... it would be weird for you to be there.”
“I understand.” The way he adds your name to his answer makes him sick. But his body is feeling weird, not showing him the familiar signs of jealousy or anger he knows. It feels... warm and uncomfortable.
“I will be back soon.” Your voice travels through the hallway and your footsteps along with it. James stares at the empty doorway for a while, his eyes shooting down to the book when you suddenly reappear. “Do you want anything from the store?”
“No, thank you.”
“Okay.”
And then the door falls shut. But before James can get consumed by his loneliness, he puts the books down - something about an ice breaker - and heads outside to follow you.
❁ ❁ ❁
But earth can be a lonely place. At least hell will welcome you with warmth.
❁ ❁ ❁
You didn’t lie. You were at the store. But now that you’re treading on the small path towards the grey cemetery walls, James feels the fear spread through his body like a slow and painful death.
He’s hiding behind the trees closing around the park, watching you as you halt before a simple headstone. He can feel your mourning deep within his heart, tugging, yanking, pulling on the tiny strings that sting so effectively. His temple leans against the rough bark as his eyes trace your slow movements. You place a small bouquet of flowers on the soil before the engraved letters, resting your forehead on the gold stone.
He can’t see it completely, but he knows you’re crying. You always do. Everything within him screams to reach out to you, to hold you and sway you until the world feels less taunting, but he knows how difficult it could make things.
So, instead, he remains hidden, a silent sentinel in the shadows bearing witness to your sorrow from afar. He feels the weight of your tears as if they were his own, each drop a dagger to his soul and a reminder of the distance that separates him from you.
And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there is a flicker of something else - resilience, determination, a quiet strength that refuses to be extinguished. It’s a testament to your spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you both.
As you linger before the headstone, lost in your memories and your grief, James feels a surge of admiration swell within him. Despite the pain you carry, you continue to preserve.
“It’s really a shame you never have the balls to comfort her.” A voice whispers in his ear and James shoots around to be met with a redhead whose eyes stare daringly up at him. “Then again... I guess it would be kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
“What are you doing here, Wanda?” All angels are made weary of Lucifer’s spawn. They are vicious and manipulating, carrying the pits of hell to places that least expect them and watch it all go up in flames as they stand laughing on the sidelines.
James knows the demon standing before him. More than once have their paths crossed throughout time, but he is surprised to see her every time anew. He refuses to show any sign of weakness in her presence, knowing that to do so would only invite further manipulation.
Wanda chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing through the trees. “Oh, nothing much,” she muses with a wicked grin, pacing around James to take a closer look at him. “Just though I’d remind you of what you’re missing out on by playing the good little guardian angel. But who knows... maybe one of these days, you’ll finally grow a spine and take what you want.”
James clenches his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Wanda’s relentless provocation. He knows better than to let her under his skin, but the demon’s words cut deep, striking at the heart of his insecurities. He feels the surge of frustration rising within him as his fists clench by his sides, the weight of his silver cuffs pressing against his wrists like chains. “I can’t,” he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t”
Wanda’s gaze narrows as her arms cross in front of her chest. “Can’t or won’t?” She counters, her voice tingling with an unspoken dare.
James hesitates, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I... I don't know," he admits finally. "But it doesn't matter. My duty lies with heaven, with protecting her. I can’t do that when I’m lost in the in-between.”
Wanda's eyes glitter with amusement as she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them with an unnerving grace. "And what if heaven isn't where you belong?" she whispers in a seductive purr as her fingers flick against his cuffs. The sound travels through the trees, making you turn and look around you. "What if your heart longs for something more, something... forbidden?"
A shiver runs down his spine, a sudden realization dawning within James. For so long, he has clung to the safety of his celestial duties, fearing the consequences of straying from the path laid out before him. But now, as he stands face to face with the embodiment of temptation itself again, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heaven is not the place where he can truly flourish.
“I don’t trust you, Wanda.” He admits genuinely, though the possibility of her words holding truth gnaws on his very soul.
“You shouldn’t.” She smirks devilishly, eyes flashing in a short glimmer of red and evil. “There will be consequences to disobeying celestial rules. But you will never find out if a life free of them would be more fulfilling to you if you don’t try.” She winks, setting uncertainty free within him. “Find me when you have made the right choice.”
As he watches Wanda disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with his thoughts, James knows that he is standing at a crossroads—one that would determine the course of his destiny for eternity. And though the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril, he can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him, a whisper of possibility that promises a future filled with love, and happiness, and the chance to finally be as close to you as he has always wished for.
❁ ❁ ❁
The night has broken over your small town by now. James has made it back with a conflicted heart before you came home from your errands. He knows you notice his silence as he normally enjoys to talk a lot to you. But you don’t say anything.
He is just sitting quietly in the kitchen as he watches you make a cup of tea, wondering what it tastes like right before frowning at how scared he is to try a cup of hot water just because he doesn’t know what it would do to him.
Wanda’s words come back to the forefront of his mind and the unease she instilled within his heart right alongside it. He has been longing to reach out to you for so long, has wanted to touch and comfort you in so many ways his mind began to spin. Especially after days like this, when you went to visit your brother’s grave. You would be crying yourself to sleep tonight. And you would get up tomorrow, wipe the sorrow from your eyes and continue to live your life as if nothing happened. Because you are strong and resilient.
And James, even though he is finally present, is not able to offer you the solace you so desperately deserve.
At least he thought so.
His eyes wander to the silver cuffs around his arms, feeling the weight and letting the subtle clink of them seep into his skull. He has never questioned why or how the rules of heaven applied to him. He never even thought about the consequences of breaking them until he felt the need to protect you. He never really cared until you became the most important thing in his life.
Now, seeing the pain in your gaze, and feeling the guilt for being here, not soothing you gnaws on him, sending him back to a state in which he would kill to see you smile again. Free of fear and sorrow.
You bite your lip when you settle on the chair across from his. Your eyes look dull, but James can’t help but think there is a question posed within them. Something desperate and restricted. Oh, how he would love to know what you’re trying to say. He is just too inexperienced with human interaction that he can get a read on everything just yet.
James feels his heart picking up, knowing it beats in the same rhythm as yours, but he doesn’t dare speak, knowing his voice will betray him. Your tea cup is empty, your eyes tired, and he knows that this evening with you will end within seconds.
“Good night, James.” You finally say, following the small ritual you have established with him as you wave at him weakly.
Normally, he says it back. Normally, he guides you to the bedroom and closes your door promising to watch over you in silence. Normally, he doesn’t have a demon’s words ringing in his ears.
But today, something feels different. As you gather your things and head towards your bedroom, a sudden surge of determination courses through him. He can't bear the thought of being separated from you, even for a moment longer.
With a sense of reckless abandon, and the words of Wanda hanging in his mind James makes a daring decision. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his every being, he reaches out to you, his touch barely grazing your shoulder as you turn to leave.
In that fleeting moment of contact, something shifts. A spark ignites between you, a connection so powerful and undeniable that it defies explanation. Time seems to slow as you both freeze, caught in the throes of a bond that transcends the boundaries of heaven and earth.
For a heartbeat, everything hangs in the balance, the air crackling with electricity. And then ...nothing happens.
There is no rush of wind and light that makes him disappear, leaving behind only the echo of his presence lingering in the empty space between. There is nothing else welcoming him in wrath or absolute nothingness or whatever is supposed to happen if a celestial ever dared to touch a mortal.
He opens his eyes that he had shut tight without noticing. And you’re still here. In front of him, staring at his hand that is softly wrapped around your wrist. His mind is struggling to make sense of what just happened - or rather what didn’t. It was all a hoax.
James feels rage bubble within him. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet stillness of the room, touching. He counts yet another reason why heaven was never where he belonged.
A single tear rolls down his cheek when he pulls you into his body and wraps his arm around you tightly. His heart beats violently, pumping the anger of knowing how much time he wasted not being close to you through his body. His wings follow close behind, sealing you into his warmth and creating a space just for you and him. It’s as if you are made for him. Your body tugs perfectly beneath his feathery white wings and he knows he’ll hold you like this for eternity.
❁ ❁ ❁
He’s touching you.
James is touching you. No, actually, he’s consuming you with his whole being, pulling you into the best hug you have ever received. His wings wrap around you protectively, engulfing you into his scent entirely. It’s earthy, and clean, and... heavenly.
You chuckle slightly as your cheek presses to his chest, your head barely reaching his collar bone, but it just makes you feel enclosed by his presence from all around. You heart beats just as rapidly as his and you exhale in content as you realize that you’re not the only one feeling this connection.
You don’t know what changed. Maybe you are not as good as hiding your sadness as you think you are. Or maybe there is a whole other reason behind this angel guarding you into the most loving hug you have ever experienced. But fact is, you needed it today more than ever.
And James knew ...because he strangely knows so much about you. He feels familiar without trying and it is a weirdly comforting thing to experience. Especially after all you have been through.
Hesitantly, and almost sorrowfully, you pull away from his warm chest. His wings loosen around you, his arms leaving just enough space for you to lean back and stare into those azure blue eyes of his. He’s beautiful up close. Long lashes frame his loving stare as his mouth tugs into a smile, taking yours right with it.
“You touched me.” You say in awe as James’s eyebrows slightly raise. “You thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”
There is a steak silence as his gaze travels over your face then roams his arms that are still holding you tightly close to him. “Should I not be touching you?” He asks carefully.
You can feel his hands retreating but you pull him right in before they’re gone. “I was just wondering when you would.” You snuggle back into his shirt and his hands cradle your head to him. “Is it embarrassing to say I’ve wanted you to do it for a while now?”
“Not embarrassing at all.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle. “I’ve wanted to do it even before then. I just didn’t know if I could.” The last part is a mere whisper that dissipates in your hair when his mouth presses to it in a feather light brush.
A rush of warmth floods through you, filling every corner of your being with a sense of belonging you've never known before. Time seems to stand still, the world falling away until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in each other's arms.
"You've wanted to touch me?" you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them, a confession born of the unspoken longing that has lingered between you for far too long.
James's gaze softens, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of your cheek as he meets your eyes with a look of quiet intensity. "More than you could ever know," he replies. "But I feared the consequences.”
“What consequences?” James shakes his head as his thumb still lingers on your skin.
“I don’t know.” You reach up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you search his eyes again. It was stupid of you to assume he didn’t touch you because he didn’t like you. He was probably scared of what would happen if angels ever dared. The look in his deep blues tells you how worried he was. How long he withheld for the sake of dodging the unknown.
“It’s not bad, is it?” You hand travels across his chest, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. “Touching.”
James's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest as he gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and reverence. And once again, you would love to know what is happening inside his brain.
With a trembling hand, James cups your face in his palm, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. You cant help but feel that there is something keeping him from you, still.
“Let me stay with you tonight, my beloved.” His fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly. “Let me hold you and keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?” You ask in a trance as your fingers bury in his hair and you play with the thought of pressing your lips to his. But he has taken so long to hug you. You don’t want him to be overwhelmed.
“Anything.” He whispers back and closes his eyes. A whole new warmth consumes you when his words seep in, blanketing you in cherish and admiration. If this is what being appreciated feels like, you will fight to keep the feeling forever.
“Okay.”
❁ ❁ ❁
Oh how much the celestials have lied. Flying is nothing compared to this.
❁ ❁ ❁
As you bustle about the diner, taking orders and refilling coffee mugs with practiced ease, Peggy sits at her usual spot at the counter, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watches you work.
"Something on your mind, Peggy?" you ask with a smile, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of a hungry customer.
Peggy leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I couldn't help but notice that smile of yours, dear," she says with a knowing wink. "It's positively radiant today. Dare I say, it's almost as if you've got a secret?"
You chuckle, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks at her observation. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you reply coyly, unable to suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of your lips as you tab your finger against them. “What makes you think I’d share it with you?”
“Well, I am a loyal customer for one...” She pauses as she thinks of another point. “And I am old enough to think the secret dies with me." Peggy presses, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Please, you know the entire town.” You laugh and Peggy waves her hand dismissively, though there is a proud smirk on her red lips.
Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What's all this about smiles and secrets?”
You turn to see Old Lee leaning against the counter with a grim expression. His worn-down straw hat flops over his eyes, making him look even more grumpy than usual.
"It's nothing, Stan," you reply, trying to defuse the tension with a forced smile. "Just some friendly banter."
Old Lee’s eyes narrow slightly. "Friendly banter, huh? You're squawking like a bunch of chickens in a henhouse."
Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Stan's attitude. "Oh, hush up, Stan," she scolds, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "Can't you see we're having a moment here? This is girl talk. Go and drink your tea like the grumpy old man you are.”
Old Lee shakes his head in response but wisely chooses to turn back to his drink. “We all know how the last time she came in here with a smile that big turned out.” Old Lee grumbles searching your eyes once more. “The frogs're telling me we’ll have another rain comin’ soon. You better be careful, sweetheart.”
You share a conspiratorial look with Peggy, either of you not sure wether to believe him or not. Stan is not one for sappy love stories, but he certainly hits the nail on the head with his predictions every time. His bold hint towards the last big death this town suffered glides off his tongue like a Sunday prayer and it ripples down your spine in ice-cold peaks.
“That is in the past. Right now, I really am hoping we are talking about the charming gentleman I talked to the other week. He certainly is a sight for sore eyes.” Peggy’s eyes sparkle as Old Lee huffs into his cup.
She winks back at you and the smile returns to your lips, along with the giddy feeling you get when James is called into your mind. But before you can respond, the diner door swings open, signaling the arrival of another customer and putting an end to your conversation—for now, at least.
❁ ❁ ❁
A noise calls from the back of your house right before the sun starts its journey in the sky. You don’t wake as James tries to stir carefully with his arms still holding you tightly. He was not sleeping - he doesn’t need sleep, but he still feels groggy from the warm and comforting night being ripped away with the sound.
It piques another time and now, James is sure, someone is trying to get inside. Within minutes he is out of bed, checking the window and then closing the door to your bedroom on his way to the back.
He is ready to protect you at all costs, eager to show you how much you mean to him, but when he sees a touch of white beyond the window and hears the familiar rustling of feathers that accompany it, it only takes him a second to realize who has come to intrude your peace.
Two men - angels - just as tall has James litter the kitchen once he opens the door and pulls them inside with both hands. Samuel, the one standing a little to the side, brushes his clothes off once he comes to a stand again, watching James with amusement and curiosity. “I see you haven’t changed much, James. A simple ‘hello’ would have been just fine.” He crosses his arms before his chest, his wings shaking the dowry rain from their feathers and right onto your kitchen floor.
“Why are you here?” His eyes search those of Steven - a friend of his but also an angel ranking higher than James ever will.
“You know why we’re here.” He steps closer once he has composed himself again. “You are testing the heavens.”
James huffs, feeling the anger rise inside him. If anything, heaven was testing him. So he goes on to ignore the blonde angel before him, willing his heart to calm at all the frustration accumulating at once. “Did you know it was a lie?” James starts instead. His voice is strained when he thinks of all the times he refrained from touching you just to keep you safe. “Just a way to keep us from initiating contact?”
Steven doesn’t say anything and Samuel’s stare meets that of James again. Steven shows little remorse, the pride on display now more than usual. The supposed betrayal James has caused is nothing to the sting boring into his soul by the very man standing in font of him. Steven is cold, distant - when he should be a friend.
“I should have known.” James shakes his head. “Your duties have always placed higher than your friendships.”
“That is because duties are the most valuable virtue God can give.” Steven finally says and his jaw ticks angrily.
James could never imagine being more loyal to a system placing as many restrains as heaven does. Not when he knows how good the real world can feel. How precious it is to smell flowers and hold the one you love in your arms well into the night.
“You came here with a mission, James. And since your fall, you have done nothing but frolic throughout this place with your very own human.” Samuel is eerily still behind the broad blonde spitting one accusation after the other. But James decides not to comment on it just yet.
“It is far more than that,” he rasps feeling the protectiveness flood his body.
“We know. That is why you are here in the first place.”
“What am I supposed to do, Steven?” James tries to keep his voice low, but his frustration is too great. Steven should be the one to understand better than anyone else. But he seems to have locked that part of him far away right now. “How can I amend a sin that is irreversible?!”
“Every sin can be amen-“ Steve’s eyebrows raise and Samuel’s eyes flickers from James and focuse behind him. That is when his heart beat picks up again. And as much as he loves you, he wishes with all his being that you are not standing behind him right now.
“Please, no.” He mutters and turns just to have you approach from the hallway with tired eyes.
“What is happening? Who are you?” Your voice sounds sleepy, a hand rubbing over your face before you find yourself by James’s side.
“Angels.” He bites his lips, contemplating for a moment but deciding that you deserve to hear what is happening in your own home. A home he hopes to be part of forever. Besides, with Steven here, there is no ending this conversation without confusing you more. “They want me to abandon you.” The bitterness is evident in his tone. But he regrets it as soon as he catches the stutter in your heart.
“What?” It’s all you say, but the way you do breaks his collected facade.
“James-“
“What do I have to loose, Steven?” his arms open wide. "They already cast me out. They took my freedom, they took it all.” His wings barely shake, just emphasizing his statement.
Steve steps closer, causing you to slightly shove yourself behind James, his arm reaching around you, just not touching yet. ”But there is still a chance to redeem yourself.”
“What if I don’t want it?” James bites back.
“Don’t act rash, James. Think about this.“
“I have.” Long and hard. Every night he holds you, he has enough time to do so. And he has come to the conclusion that nothing compares to having you this close to him... and only him.
“You know of the punishment placed for sinners who do not attempt to right their wrongs.” Steven is seething beneath the surface, James can tell. But he tries to stay professional. He can try all he wants. James has already made a decision.
“What is he talking about?” Your voice takes him back to your presence. Your hands sneak around his forearm and hand, to which his body responds like a reflex. His fingers squeeze yours, his body seeks the heat of yours. Samuel looks at the interaction curiously, Steven settles for a disapproving taunt.
“I lose my wings. I lose heaven.” James explains to you, watching as your eyes open wider in shock.
“What?” There is so much more behind your astound answer. What does this mean for us?
“James is banished from the heavens temporarily already.” Steven’s voice drips with authority, making you stiffen beside him. James hates it. And he doesn’t hate much.
“Why?” You’re too soft for this, too fragile to take another betrayal so soon. He has just gotten started and he already feels you drifting away. Your eyes are glassy when you turn to Steven. “What could have possibly been so bad that you ended up here?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Sam breaks his silence. The surprise is written all over his face just to be replaced by confusion when James utters his name in warning.
“Tell me.” It seems as though his eyes switch between everyone in the room, trying to warn them all of what will happen if they take his opportunity of telling you himself.
“James is not just any angel.”
“Steve, stop it.”
“He is your guardian angel.”
It all happens too fast. A look to Samuel tells him there is no ending this. Steven won’t stop until he has tried his all to have you turn from James.
“And he committed the worst sin of them all.” You look shocked and expectant. The grip on James’s hands grows tighter with every syllable leaving Steven’s mouth. And James is silently cursing the angel in front of him “He killed a man... for you.”
You stumble back and James catches you only to earn a warning glare from Steven and Samuel.
“Brock,” you whisper and it sounds like the single word has taken the entire air out of your system.
Lighting brightens your house over the stifled morning gleam and thunder sounds dangerously in the distance. You’re flinching, though searching James’s eyes as he steadies you back on your feet.
“You cant do this forever, James.”
“And what if I try?” He turns fully. “What if I would rather get myself killed than come back to heaven?”
“He wouldn’t” Steve is heaving, but Sam steps forward, Laying a hand on the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe his rage. “The soul bond affects her just as it does him.”
“What does that mean?” It’s barely a screech when you interrupt them again. Turning to James and tugging at his shirt, you convey the frustration of being kept in the dark through your features. “What does it mean, James?”
He sighs, shaking his head and then closing his eyes - hoping to escape this conversation. But it is happening. “It means, if I die... you will die, too. A soul need replace that of a guardian one.”
At this point, James questions his sanity. How could he have not realized the twisted ways of the celestial realm sooner? In an attempt to soothe both his aching head and your tired soul, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but your hands swat his arms away.
James recoils as if struck, the sting of rejection shattering his heart into thousands of pieces
“You might think it wise to revisit what we offered you, James.”
The words hang in the air like a dark omen when Steven and Samuel disappear. With a heavy heart, James turns away from you, unable to bear the weight of your disappointment any longer.
As you walk away, James is torn between the desire to comfort you and the fear of causing you further pain. But when he reaches out to touch you, once more, your tears are a silent testament to the rift that now lies between you.
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice choked with emotion. It’s a desperate attempt to fix this, even if he does not know how.
“Go, James. Please. I need time to understand all this-”
“I can help you.”
“-alone. I want to be alone.” You swallow hard. “Leave, please.” Your tears finally spill and James despises that he is at fault of them.
“Go.”
Feeling more abandoned than ever, James leaves you to your grief, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his soul. In that moment, he realizes that the price of his newfound freedom may be greater than he ever imagined, leaving him trapped in a prison of his own making, forever haunted by the memory of the one he could never save.
He knows there are not many ways to fix this. But he is determined to find the one that will.
❁ ❁ ❁
He doesn’t remember earth to be quite this cold.
Find me when you have made the right choice. The words keep ringing in his head.
A little warmth would feel nice now.
❁ ❁ ❁
You were angry when you told James to leave. Angry, and hurt, and confused, and shocked, and fucking tired of it all.
But now that he is gone, an unfamiliar emptiness has taken its place where your tingles used to be. Everything makes so much sense now. The weirdly familiar feeling. The sense of security around him - a total stranger at the time, who obviously possessed more strength than you could ever imagine. The instant pull from his heart to yours.
The quiet of your house seems to close in on you. The walls feel tighter, the rooms emptier. Every corner holds a memory of James, a reminder of the presence that had once filled your life with warmth and mystery. His laugh echoing in the hallway, his silhouette framed in the morning light through the kitchen window, the way he seemed to know when you needed comfort before you even realized it yourself.
You sit at the table, staring at your untouched cup of coffee, replaying moments in your mind. The time he effortlessly carried your groceries when you insisted you could manage alone. The nights he stayed up with you, talking about everything and nothing, his voice soothing and familiar. The way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe.
The days seem endless without him. Simple tasks feel monumental in the absence of his reassuring presence. You find yourself hesitating before making decisions, second-guessing your choices, yearning for the silent support he always provided. The realization hits you: you had built your life around him, around the safety and stability he brought, even without knowing the full truth of who he was.
You cannot deny that a big part of you misses him despite all the lies he told you. Well, not lies entirely. You know he has always been truthful to you ...he just never told the whole truth until he was forced to.
And even though the other two angels who visited made him reveal his secrets to you, you feel like there is so much more to discover still.
Your hand settles over your heart, trying to pull the constant racing around James back into existence. But it beats in profound silence, acting as though nothing has happened, when - in fact - everything has changed. James came into your life and unapologetically took your heart away. You don’t want it back. You want him back. Heart or not, your souls are connected. And now that he is gone, you know what you have truly been missing all this time.
With a sigh, you rise form your chair and grab your keys, determined to find a way to help James out of the trouble he has caused because of you. A shiver runs down your spine at the memories of it all. James’s sin had good intentions, you know this much. But two people died at the time of it - though only one deserves your mourning.
You pull your door closed and make your way to town hall. The entire left wing of the building is dedicated to the library and you are destined to find out more about the man who crashed into your life and took your heart away... and then disappeared.
The library is quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper the only sounds that break the stillness. You approach the counter, where a librarian is meticulously organizing a stack of book. She looks up as you approach, her kind eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“Hello, dear,” she says warmly. How can I help you today?”
You hesitate for a moment but then you decide to just start at the beginning. “I’m looking for some texts about angels,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More specifically fallen angels... and the consequences of disobeying.”
The librarian raises an eyebrow and a look close to amusement and happiness reaches over her face. “That’s a rather specific topic,” she muses and your brow begins to sweat. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The woman is still eyeing you with a smolder, but then, as if you pushed a button, she shrugges and begins to type away on her computer. “Good thing it’s my job to get you exactly what you need.”
She nods slowly after a little while. “We do have some old texts and legends about angels. Let me show you.” With that, she lifts her body out of the office chair behind the desk and leads you to the far end of the library. It’s a quiet corner where the oldest books are kept. She pulls an ancient-looking leather-bound volume from a high shelf. For the place it has been kept, it is surprisingly dust-free.
With a smile, she hands it to you and then wishes you ‘happy hunting’.
The book is heavy in your hands. The front is embossed in golden letters. Your fingers trace over it, feeling every ridge and dip. ‘Legends of the Divine and Fallen’, the title reads.
When you flip through the pages, the book’s well-worn smell engulfs you and something inside you shifts. You brother loved old books. The one in your hand brings you right back to when you were kids. Pietro had a whole wall of shelves filled with his favorite stories. And more so than often, you snuck inside when he was out with his friends, grabbing one whose cover intrigued you the most and then getting lost in the pages until he came back and read it to you.
He sparked your interest in reading - made you the bookworm you are today. And finally, probably caused you to jump into this adventure with James in hopes of finally living inside on of your fantasy worlds.
You eyes get caught by a story in the book, your thumbs halting and fully opening the page as intrigue tingles in your entire body with every word you read.
The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel
In the celestial realms, where light and harmony prevail, there existed an angel named Buchariel. Renowned for his loyalty and dedication, Buchariel was also marked by an insatiable curiosity. His yearning to understand the world beyond the heavenly gates set him apart from his brethren, who were content to serve without question.
One fateful day, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Buchariel descended to the mortal realm without divine permission. His eyes beheld the beauty and chaos of humanity, the joys and sorrows that defined their existence. It was in this realm, teeming with life and temptation, that Buchariel's fate took a dark turn.
As Buchariel wandered the earth, a demon of cunning and allure took notice of the angel's presence. This demon, skilled in the art of seduction, approached Buchariel with promises of forbidden knowledge and experiences that no celestial being had ever known. Blinded by his curiosity, Buchariel succumbed to the demon's temptations, engaging in acts that defied the sacred laws of the heavens.
Word of Buchariel's fall reached the celestial realm, and the angels were dispatched to retrieve their wayward brother. They arrived in time to save Buchariel from complete corruption, pulling him from the demon's grasp and returning him to the realm of light. However, the consequences of his actions could not be undone.
The celestial court declared Buchariel's punishment. He was stripped of his rank and given an ultimatum: he could return to heaven only if he vowed never to betray the divine will again. God, in His infinite mercy, offered Buchariel a chance at redemption. He was to serve as a guardian angel, watching over humanity and guiding them towards righteousness. In this duty, he could be close to the world, yet stay obedient to heaven.
Buchariel accepted his fate, grateful for the opportunity to make amends. Yet, the legend speaks of the angel's perpetual struggle. Constantly exposed to the allure of the mortal world, Buchariel walked a fine line between duty and desire. His heart, once pure and untainted, now carried the scars of his past transgressions.
Eons passed, and Buchariel's vigilance never wavered, but neither did the temptations. His soul remained in perpetual conflict, torn between his heavenly duty and the memories of earthly sensations. The legend warns that Buchariel's fall could occur once more, for the battle within him is eternal. He is an angel forever on the edge of sin, a guardian who knows the weight of temptation, and a being who understands the cost of free will.
Thus, the tale of Buchariel serves as both a caution and a beacon. It reminds all who hear it of the delicate balance between obedience and desire, and the endless journey towards redemption that even the most divine must undertake.
A chill runs down your spine as you realize the parallels between the legend and James. The delicate balance between obedience and desire - serving and sinning. James did sin again. When he killed the man who ended your brother’s life.
You sit in silence, the weight of your realization settling over you like a shroud. It’s clear that Jame’s story resembles that of Buchariel in too many ways to be a coincidence. He was weirdly comfortable on earth, now that you think about it. For Christ's sake he even told you he had met God ‘under rather unfortunate circumstances’. If what the legend says is true, unfortunate is the understatement of the century. Now you cant help but wonder what price he might pay for his defiance.
❁ ❁ ❁
The diner hums with its usual activity, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations fill the air. You move mechanically from table to table, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, but your mind is elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of James and the emptiness his absence has left behind.
Peggy, sitting at her usual spot at the counter, watches you with concern etched on her face. She waits until you pass by her with the coffee pot before speaking up.
"What's happened to that smile of yours, dear?" Peggy asks, her voice soft and maternal. "You used to light up this place."
You force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Just tired, Peggy. You know how it is."
Peggy's eyes narrow, not buying your excuse for a second. "Tired, my foot. Something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."
Before you can respond, Scott chimes in with a smirk. "At least now I know you’re back to normal," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you were gonna float away with all that grinning you were doing."
You shoot Scott a glare, feeling a mix of irritation and sadness. "Thanks, Scott. Really helpful."
“Always at your service” He tips his nonexistent hat, almost bringing a chuckle up within you. In his own way, he never faisl to cheer you up a little.
Peggy waves a dismissive hand at Scott and turns her full attention back to you. "Don't mind him, honey.” She leans in closer, her expression softening. "But seriously, what's going on? I haven't seen you this down in a while."
You sigh, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It's complicated, Peggy. Someone important to me... well, they're not around anymore. And it's just... hard."
Peggy reaches out and pats your hand gently. “We all miss Pietro, dear. Losing someone is never easy... especially after all you’ve been through.”
You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the ache in your chest remains. You can't bring yourself to tell her it’s not your brother you are mourning at this time. "I appreciate that."
The hustle and bustle of the diner continues around you, but for a brief moment, you feel a small measure of comfort in Peggy's concern.
As you turn to refill another customer's coffee, Peggy's words linger in your mind. Maybe opening up a bit more wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, sharing the burden could help ease the pain of James's absence, even if only a little. But who should you talk to? The only person you were every really close with is gone...
❁ ❁ ❁
Yet another day passes in which you worry yourself tired. The house feels emptier than ever, the silence pressing in on you as you move through the rooms like a ghost. You try to distract yourself with chores and routines, but your thoughts always circle back to James. Wondering if he’s safe or thinking about you.
You sink into the worn armchair by the window, your favorite spot to watch the world outside. But tonight, the familiar view brings no comfort. The sky is a dark canvas, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the loneliness wrap around you like a suffocating blanket as Old Lee’s words echo in your mind once again.
A quiet sob calls into the empty room - barely audible. And then the tears start falling down your face in constant streams. The memory of his touch, his warmth, his presence, feels like a distant dream. You close your eyes, trying to recall the feeling of James's arms around you, the sound of his heartbeat against yours. It's a comfort and a torment all at once.
You haven’t cried like this since Pietro died... No, actually, you did when the message of Brock’s death reached you. But those were tears of relief rather than pain.
A sudden chill sweeps through the room, at the memory of the man who tormented your life in more ways than one. You open your eyes, frowning as you notice that it’s not only the thought of Brock making you feel this way. The air seems to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you feel a strange pull, a familiar yet eerie sensation that makes your heart race.
You stand up slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. The room feels alive with a palpable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is shifting. You turn around, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
And then you see him.
❁ ❁ ❁
James stands before you, his presence both startling and comforting, he notes as your herts sync again. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. You look as if you've been through a storm, yet there is a resolute strength in your gaze that anchors him. He probably doesn’t look much better, considering he in fact has been in said storm. But he’d do anything to come back to you.
"James," you breathe, your voice trembling with emotion. "You're here.”
He steps forward, closing the distance between you. "I’m here," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and unshared moments.
You reach out, your hand trembling as it touches his cheek, as if verifying that he is real and not another figment of your imagination. Your skin is cold and the sensation sends a flood of emotions through him.
"Where have you been?" you ask, your voice cracking with the weight of your worry.
“It is a long story," he replies, his hand covering yours. "But right now, all that matters is that I'm here. With you.”
In that moment, the world outside fades away, and all that exists is the space between you and James. The silence is filled with unspoken promises and the electric charge of a reunion long overdue.
When you fall into his arms crying, his knees feel like giving out. He has had a long journey behind him, but he would die before showing you weakness when you need him the most. “I thought I would never see you again!” You cry even harder and James wraps his arms around you with loving pressure.
“I’m here,” he tries to soothe you. His wings come around you once again in search for the calmness that washes over him when he realizes you feel safe.
“I don’t think I can do without you anymore.” Your voice is muffled against his chest but his heart leaps at your confession. Warmth spreads throughout his body as the realization hits that you finally feel close to the emotions he has harbored for you for so long.
James wants to promise you that he’ll never leave again. He wants to tell you that there is nothing worth losing you. Not the most tempting offer to ever exist. He wants to hold you forever, in fact, do more than just hold you and give into the feeling he has only ever heard about from demons and sinners.
But he can’t. Because he knows it would not be true.
His feud with heaven is far from over. And the journey he plans to venture holds great unknown. So, he settles for the one thing he can tell you with certainty.
“I cannot be without you, either, my beloved. There is so much I want to experience with you but the most important of them all is love. I love you, with my entire soul and heart. I cannot deny you this truth any longer. I have done the unspeakable because of it and you deserve to know.”
You eyes look up at him widely, a question in them that has waited long enough to be asked. “Brock’s death wasn’t an accident,” you whisper, but your posture remains steady. There is no pain or sorrow in your face. Just pure, plain curiosity.
“They told me he was mugged and thrown in the river. But it never made sense to me.” You pull a little out of his touch and James lets you even though his entire body screams to keep you close. “This town is too small to be mugged in. He was killed with a single stab to his heart. A mugger would never be so efficient.”
You gleam at him, seemingly waiting for him to confirm. But James stands in your presence with a sense of pride. He does not regret is transgression, not when it meant keeping you safe - which was and still is his greatest aim.
“The way he was found was too peaceful to be from a robbery, either.” You tell him shaking your head. “How can you make a murder look so respectful and honest?”
“I am sorry if I have upset you, dearest-“
“You haven’t. Brock Rumlow was a bad man. It took me a long time to notice, but he was abusing and ill-driven. If anything, I am upset I couldn’t thank you sooner that he is gone.”
“I had played with the though of removing him from the face of the earth for quite some time,” James confesses, feeling all the secret’s weight rolling off him like avalanches. “From the moment he first screamed at you... to the time he laid his hands on you. But I knew you were strong. I was so proud of you for getting up each day and moving on. I would have never acted had he not hurt you in a way even i could feel throught the very bond that ties our souls together. I knew you could handle the hurtful words, even the hurtful touches - that no-one, and especially not you, deserves. Your brother is of similar cunning as myself. But he was brave enough to act while I was fearing the consequences of testing celestial rule once more.”
James catches the new tears rushing down your cheeks. But he wont stop telling you. He knows you need to hear it. It hurts him to revisit the memory of watching Pietro die in his quest to secure your freedom. “I was trying to honor you brother as much as ensure your safety when I... killed Brock.” He clears his throat and takes your hands in his. “He would have continued to hurt every person he encountered. I do not regret what I did.”
“Oh, James.” Your hands reach up to his face. James bows down to follow the tug you apply to his jaw. “Thank you for telling me. I am not angry. And despite what the other angels said, I know you are a good person. I love you, too.”
You smile as James’s hands cover yours on his face. Your foreheads are touching and the room around you fades into nothingness. In this moment in time, there are just you and him, and all the new feeling bubbling inside him that he his eager to explore.
He’s known it for long, but now he is certain than going back to heaven was never an option. Not when you are still here.
“I would love to kiss you right now,” you whisper in the space between you, igniting a heat within James he has never felt before.
“I would like that very much,” he confesses and as soon as the words leave his lips, yours are firmly pressed against his.
The sensation is overwhelming. Your lips are soft and warm, moving against his in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hands still press yours to his skin, unsure what to do and overwhelmed with the experience opened to him. You gently take them and move then to your waist, then a little lower, making him trace the curve of your body as your tongue slowly slips between his lips. The contact sends a surge of electricity through him, making his heart race.
The kiss is tentative at first, each of you exploring this new and wondrous connection. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as if afraid he might vanish with this daring protest against heaven. He can feel the gentle tremor in your touch, the same mixture of awe and desire that he feels within himself.
You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. Your breath mingles with his, cheeks heated and lips swollen. “Move your hands, James,” you whisper, guiding his hands to slide even lower on your body, teaching him how to hold you close, even though he thought he has always done so right. This is different. This is more.
He follows your lead, fingers trembling with the intensity of the moment as they squeeze flesh, eliciting a soft whimper from you that makes James’s insides stir. Or maybe it is not his insides after all, he notices when his pants feel tighter all of a sudden.
Each brush of your lips against his, each caress, speaks of the longing and love that has been building between you for so long. James deepens the kiss, more confident now, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and it’s as if the world outside has ceased to exist.
Your thumb brushes over his cheek, and you smile, voice breathless. “You’re doing great.”
The kiss becomes more fervent, your guidance helping James navigate this new territory. He feels like he’s pouring all his love and devotion into this one act, wanting to convey everything he’s never been able to say. His wings reach round you tentatively, leaving enough air for you to breathe. He want’s to be wrapped up in you more - he cannot explain it.
James pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “This... this is incredible,” he murmurs in a voice husky with wonder. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
You smile, eyes sparkling. “Neither have I.”
Your lips find each other again, more urgent this time, as if you’re making up for lost time - at least James is. The demon who lured him down the first time failed to mention this part of humanity to him.
“I want to show you more,” you finally whisper against his skin and at this point, James is willing to walk the sun if you asked him to.
“Everything,” he rasps, his lips touching you with every syllable. He cannot get enough of your taste. “Show it all to me, my love.”
“I want to start with taking off our clothes.” You kiss him again, making Jame’s pants feel even tighter. He knows about sex and he knows it is what you are hinting at. But he has never experienced it. It is no use to angels, since they cannot impregnate another. In heaven, it is rarely talked about - and if it is, one is warned about it.
Right now, James does not care why. He is eager to experience as much as there is on earth with you and then some. So, he lets you guide his hands over your shoulders, shrugging your cardigan off your body and letting his fingers glide beneath the thin straps adorning your shoulders now.
His hands are so big compared to yours. He marvels in the fact of how much stronger he is, making him able to protect you that much better.
James has no difficulty guiding the clothes from your body. Nakedness is something barely acknowledged where he comes from. But today... something about it feels different. This situation feels so much more intimate than it usually does. And he notices, when you kneel down to pull his pants down, his cock stands proud from his body, bigger than usual, and hard and- “Oh!” sensitive, he notes when your lips kiss his hip, your face slightly grazing his member in the action.
With your head next to it, it looks disproportionately huge, but you don’t seem to mind.
“This... I have never done this before.” James’s hands guide you back up to him. He is certain his cheeks are glowing red by now. He feels hot and bothered, yet so yearning for more of the teasing your face provided for mere seconds before.
“Are you okay with continuing?” Your eyes find his again.
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.” And when he nods, you take his hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom.
He has missed this place, missed holding you for the time he went away, but he can't tell you where he has been just yet. Not now, anyway. Right now, he wants to experience whatever you are willing to show him.
You walk around him, touching him all over, watching him react and making him lean down only to pull back before his lips can get a taste of yours again. It’s beautiful agony and James is torn between pulling you into his strong grip and letting you wind him up until his balls feel like they are the ones squeezed tightly. They already are...
Eventually, you come to a stop behind him. He jolts when you fingers drive over the top of his wings, only for you to mumble a quick ‘sorry’ and coming back around in front of him.
“Don’t be sorry. I was just not expecting it.”
You stare past him and at the white feathers protruding from his back. “They are so soft... and pretty.” You find his eyes. “All of you is pretty.”
He reaches for your face, finding pride in the way you nestle into his palm with a smile. “And dear, you are the most beautiful being the world has ever seen.”
“Can I touch them again?” You whisper only for James to now stare in awe.
He watches as your hands pass his body in slow-motion. They travel past his ribs and reach carefully towards his wings again. This time, he is prepared, though his stomach feels tight with something opposite of worry. More of a physical feeling he can't begin to explain. He closes his eyes and lets your touch travel over them like a prayer. Your path leaves shivers in its wake and James lets his head hang, reveling in the feeling. He opens his eyes and watches his cock twitch whenever the tingles get too much.
He gasps breathlessly when you graze the underside of his wings, making his whole body jump slightly.
“Oh, are those sensitive?” You smile in awe, though your expression turns to excitement when he wheezes out his answer.
“Very.”
“Do you like it?”
Your fingers glide over the same spot again, making his cock leak, feeling like he’s about to explode. “Yes!” He grabs the sideboard next to him.
“I want to make you feel good, James” your voice is damp agains this ear and he bites his tongue before bursting.
“You already do.”
“I want to make it even better.”
James is not sure he can handle better. He’s already floating miles above the ground when you touch him in the ways you do. Maybe he has to distract himself to enjoy this some more.
He could think about why heaven would withhold education of how amazing sex can be. That will make him calm a little, posting yet another reason why it was never the place to be for him.
Your hands wrap around his silver wrists as you guide him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders until he is sat on the mattress, looking up at you with intrigue and awe.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to ride you, James.” You straddle his lap and his arms immediately reach around you.
“Ride ...me? I’m not a horse.” He states and watches as your smile lights up. But it settles a weary feeling in his stomach. There is a hint of mischief in your glint, and James is not sure he can handle it right now.
“Do you trust me?”
“With my entire soul.”
You kiss him and push at his chest. “The lie back for me.”
And so he does, realizing - once again - that anything heaven could offer him pales in comparison to the love he feels for you, a love that knows no bounds or logic and that is reciprocated in your every touch.
James watches as you scoot up his body until you are sat right behind his cock, which has not ceased to soften one bit since you kissed. It reaches all the way to your navel. But before he can take in the sight and calculate the size difference between you, you press him against your stomach, pulling another moan from his lunges.
His tip is leaking more and more with every touch you gift him and James starts to worry his body will give out before he can make you feel good.
“You’re so big, so pretty.” You stroke him from base to top, letting your thumb press into the underside of his cock and send shiver after shiver through James’s body. “I need you inside me.”
“I need that to.” His voice is strangled when you lift up and grind his tip through your wet folds, moaning with the friction he can only assume is the same for you as it is for him.
In a swift motion, the head of his cock sinks inside you, breaching tight muscle and making him feel dizzy with the new sensation. Your head falls back with a loud breath that makes his abs tighten. This whole time, he feels as though a gust of wind could make him unravel, but something inside him tells James he should hold out - or at least try to.
The raspy sounds escaping his throat cant seem to stop when you slowly work yourself all the way down his shaft. And the high-pitched scream you set free when his tip reaches another barrier within you makes him twitch and leak even more.
“Are you alright?” He asks through sweaty brows.
“I’m amazing.” You smile and lift yourself up only to sink back down into his lap. Your movements become steady, and when he finally gets over the way your mouth hangs slack, the rhythm you set builds even more pressure inside him.
The room is filled with messy sounds of skin and sweat and moans and heavy breaths. You sink down on him again and again until James feels like he is on fire. But you don’t relent. Your pace never falters when you fall back and your hands grip his thighs, digging into his muscles until his toes curl.
It’s too much at once and not enough at the same time. James feels as though there is a cliff he could fall over every second now, but he’s too scared to loose the sensations he is experiencing right now to let his body do so.
“Touch me,” you suddenly say, taking his hands which have fisted inside your duvet until now and placing them on the soft flesh of your breasts. Only now, your nipples are hardened when you guide his fingers over them. “Like this.” You’re somehow fare gone and right there with him. But he does as he his told again, flicking his thumb over the pebbled flesh until your moans grow higher and higher. “Ah, Yes!”
It’s doing something to him, he his twitching every time your pussy squeezes him in tandem with his thumb on your nipples. His body is moving without the permission of his mind when he suddenly thrusts up. And then again. And again. Until you are mewling and crying on top of him, your fingernails digging into his legs painfully hard.
James immediately drops his hands only to watch you stare at him with wide eyes.
“What’s the matter. Why did you stop?”
He bites his lips in shame when he realizes he misses your constant movement on his cock. “Am I hurting you?”
You eyes possibly widen further. Leaning forward and capturing his cheeks with both lips and hands, you shake your head after you pull away. “No! No, its a good thing, love. You feel so good. You...” Your expression changes to a rather shy one. “You’re just very big. You should be proud.”
Something inside James clicks as you confess with another kiss to his lips. A smirk spreads beneath them when he curiously thrusts up inside you and experiences your hot breath gains his face.
In a second, his hands grab onto your hips, his body turns and flips the pair of you until your back hits the mattress as gently as he can offer in his compromised position.
A last look of reassurance when your eyes lock with his set off the urges he has suppressed so far. His hips snap forward over and over again, your pussy tightening more around him with every push. Your hands are fist into the covers, head thrown back and mouth open. There is no more sound coming from you at this point. And James understands why. He is as overwhelmed with the feeling as you look. When you grow even tighter, gripping this cock until he cannot move anymore, white pleasure as hot as hellfire rushes through his body, kissing his nerves from head to toe. He feels his balls empty as he paints your inside with his spent, only being able to lazily rut into you after a minute to seize every last drop of pleasure this moment has to offer.
Then he falls forward as if a higher force has taken all the strength from his body, though careful not to hurt you when his weight settles on top of you.
“What-“ he needs to catch his breath first. “What was that?”
“That,” you open your eyes, chest having with every deep breath, “was an orgasm.” Your hands brush through his hair and James finds himself purring at the touch. “And it was the best one I’ve ever had.”
You kiss him and chuckle when he looks at you questioningly. “I guess you could say it was outer-worldly... or even heavenly.”
James rolls his eyes but can’t stop the laugh from slipping his lunges. He pulls back and watches as his softened cock leaves your pussy, only to be followed by your mixed arousal dripping out of you.
Trance-like, his hand moves to collect the fluid and begins to smear it over your petals, up into the soft tuft above it. He knows angels cannot impregnate other beings, but he is fascinated by the scene in front of him. It’s like a little testimony when he marks you all around the best place he has ever experienced, wordlessly rubbing and enjoying the whimpering sounds you make when he flicks over a particular spot.
“Is this sensitive?” He teases with a smirk only to be met with a playful smack on his arm.
“Very.” you say. “But I am entirely satisfied as of right now.”
James sighs and falls into the sheets beside you. “Me too.” He nuzzles into your neck and pulls you closer to his body. He does not care that you are sticky with sweat or that neither of you are cleaned up. He just needs to hold you now that reality has taken its place back around him again.
“So, you have been watching over me for - what? All my life?”
James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly.
“All your life, yes.”
“And have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?”
“Do you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?”
It’s silent for a moment, but your movements don’t falter. “I always thought that was a weird coincidence.”
James smiles into the crook of your neck. “Consider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.”
You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. “I like you like this.” You smile.
“Like what?” He’s smiling as well.”
“Less angel, more...” Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. “...deviant.”
The smile on James’s face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back.
He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.
❁ ❁ ❁
James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. He’s out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night.
The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesn’t bother him; it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness he’s found with you.
As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments you’ve shared—the way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete.
James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.
But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.
“Are you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.” You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside.
But James’s stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda.
“What is going on?” You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense you’re eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him.
“Who is that?” you whisper into James’s shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now.
When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch.
“You promised me time to explore the likes of this life.” His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little.
“And explored you have,” her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. “Tell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?”
The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devil’s spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract.
“You know it is,” he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already.
“Actually, I don’t. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.” Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. “Oh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.”
The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He need’s to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire.
“Just give me a moment, Wanda,” James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.
“What is happening? What does she want?” There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for.
James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.
“I’m not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,” you mutter with unease, and James kisses you—short and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.
Then he whispers against your lips, “Please, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?” His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.
But the feeling doesn’t last long.
“James has made a deal with the devil,” Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.
Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level.
“What does she mean, James?”
❁ ❁ ❁
James’s silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know it’s not.
“James.” Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. “What is she talking about?”
“It is true,” James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. “I have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.”
“What?” The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. “Why are you doing this?” you ask through your tears.
“Because I’d give up heaven if it meant being with you.” James’s eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. “I’d go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. You’re everything to me. Everything.”
Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. “You can’t do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.”
“And there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.” He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuck’s sake. “I would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.”
“James, think about this.” Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic.
“I have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.”
You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t do to be with you.”
Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin.
Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. “So you’re just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?”
You don’t know much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn.
“Then it was worth it.” There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jame’s stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though your’s seems to do the opposite.
“No.” You say breathlessly.
“I’m sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.
“James.”
“I love you.”
“James.”
The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. He’s gone. He’s gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.
❁ ❁ ❁
And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy… and rain.
❁ ❁ ❁
Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely.
James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what you’ve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him.
A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore you’d never let anyone this close to you. It’s the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back.
You heart cannot take another hit. It’s constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really.
You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.
You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.
“New customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,” Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen.
You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray.
“I’d like a sandwich, please.” A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.
It can’t be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy.
But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you don’t dare to turn around.
“Are you not going to look at me, dearest?”
Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if it’s real? What if it’s not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.
“James...” The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.
You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.
Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it.
“Is it really you?” You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. It’s real.
“In the ...flesh.” he frowns but then smiles widely.
“What happened when you were gone?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist.
“Not here, love. Take me home... if you’ll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.”
You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, you’ve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect.
“I will always choose you over anything else, James.” You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back.
The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth.
“But tell me one thing,” you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice.
“I will tell you anything,” he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close.
“Are you... did the-“ you’re not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say.
He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. “Yes,” he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. “I did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.”
His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In James’s arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me.” You smile back between kisses.
James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. “We have a lifetime to show each other.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit.
❁ ❁ ❁
Because at last, there’s noting more freeing than falling itself.
Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...
Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg 💗
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Hot Night (m)
synopsis. Your nightmare will never come true because gojo satoru will never die, and he will make sure that you realize just how alive he is by fucking you relentlessly on this cold night.
rating: 18+ (explicit smut)
warning: expl-cit sex, k—ssing, unpr-tect-d sex, r-ugh sex, m-ssionary, posess-veness, borderline y-ndere gojo, f-ngering, he’s dr-nk, manga sp-ilers, nightm-res.
note. This is where all the Gojo fuckers out here. I love him and I need him and I fucking hate sukuna and GEGE. fuck u both please share your feedback. I love you guys. Enjoy. Also this contains manga spoilers.
you wake up in cold sweat.
Gojo cut in half.
When you look around he’s not by your side, the sweat on your forehead falls down, what if dream is your upcoming reality?
It’s midnight,, there’s thunderstorm, and you’re so fucking lonely and scared- no you’re terrified.
Where is he? “Satoru…” you curl yourself in bed, your paranoia slowly creeping up, your dream felt so vivid, so real.
Your boyfriend died in it.
As you think about your vivid dream, you can’t help but cry softly to yourself, you love him so much, he loves you so much.
Gojo’s love makes you feel so alive. You need him. You need him so badly right now. you want to touch him to make sure that he’s OK
God please…
You pray for his safety, goodness you need your boyfriend with you right now. You know he’s the strongest, he can protect himself but you’ll only calm down once he’s in your arms.
“Baby…” your eyes widen in surprise as the door of your bedroom opens and there’s him, a little sloppy with his steps as he comes in.
“Sa-Satoru…” you fall out, taking your blanket off as you see his soaked body. He stares at you with a weird gaze, “ynnnn..” he slurs out.
He’s drunk.
“You are drunk!” You glare at him, your tears now dry, sense of relief washes over you when you see him in his glory. He is okay and that dream of yours was just a stupid nightmare.
Gojo doesn’t reply but he walks over to you, his hair wet, the outline of his muscles showing through his soaked shirt and you feel his strong arms wrap around your body.
“My pretty baby…” he looks at you with his vibrant blue eyes, you glare at him. “Oh you horny fucker no.” You cuss at him.
He’s got that Look in his eyes, you know him like the back of your hand, despite him not saying anything about getting intimate with you yet you can tell he wants you.
Gojo pouts before you watch him kick his pants off, you don’t stop him, soon he’s taking off his clothing.
Getting completely bare.
“you stupid bastard why are you getting naked?”
You tease him acting, angry,
He pushes you towards him, your chest hitting his, and before you say anything else he pulls you into a bruising hot kiss.
His lips meet yours feverishly as he shoves his tongue in your mouth, demanding entrance and you grab his face kissing him back.
Satoru moans into your mouth, grinding his hard erected dick against your clothed thigh. That sends shivers down your spine. “Yn baby let me fuck youuu I need you.” He whines against your mouth.
You know he’s asking for consent, so you nod, and that’s all he needs before he pushes you onto your shared bed
You wait for his next move and he climbs on top of you, and soon he sticks his two large fingers inside you after taking your panties off which were hidden by your night dress.
“o-oh fuck.” You shiver, arching your back. His fingers make you feel so full and the way you clench around them makes Saturo grunt.
“where the fuck were you? I had a nightmare…” you try to surpass the noise that threaten to escape your throat when you tell him about your nightmare, but he’s just so mercilessly fucking you with his fingers.
“Aw baby you had a nightmare?” He asks, his face closer to yours as he buries his head in your neck and starts to kiss your neck, all over.
You moan again, “y-yeah.. I had a dream that you died… you were cut in half..” a tear escapes your eye because of the intensity of the pleasure of his fingers inside you or maybe because of the pain due to the nightmare you had.
but then you hear him laugh as he takes out his fingers right as you cum on them, as you chase your orgasm you’re confused as to why he’s laughing at your misery.
“Baby you taste so amazing… fuck.” He runs his tongue on your arousal on his fingers, licking them clean.
He’s so nasty and so lewd.
“Why the hell are you laughing? I love you and I thought I lost you.” You whine.
He doesn’t say anything, but he kisses you again, hungrily shoving his tongue inside your mouth.
“No one can kill Gojo Saturo… he always be alive baby. Don’t you see me right in front of you?” He peppers, your face in kisses, leaving you breathless with his former kiss.
You’re not sure if he’s being ignorant or.. sympathetic.
Or maybe he’s just telling you the truth.
Gojo looks at you loving his eyes full of love for you, “come on, let me make you feel just how alive I am as I fuck you senseless on my cock.”
And without a warning, he thrusts inside you violently.
And suddenly all the coldness from this rainy night disappears, the heat of his body making your night incredibly hot.
#gojo smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu gojo#satoru smut#yandere jjk#smut#yandere gojo#gojo satoru#yandere satoru gojo#yandere satoru#yandere x reader#anime smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo angst#jjk satoru#satoru x you#gojo x yn#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn
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one slip (and falling back into the hedge maze)
alex albon x fem!reader
you and your best friend aren't sleeping together...right?
warnings/notes: smut, fwb setup, unprotected sex (wrap it up, friends), breeding, mild power play
a/n: there's this photo of alex making pancakes (see: fic header) and my friend and i went nuts talking about alex as your fuck buddy who takes care of you...
.
"Serious question, and don't laugh, but are you and Alex sleeping together?"
Having been in the middle of drinking, you feel the water catch in your throat despite it being, well, literally water. You cough and splutter, striking your chest with your palm to clear the liquid from your windpipe. Meanwhile, Logan laughs, slamming his hand down on the table as he watches you struggle as if all of this was oh-so-hilarious.
"What the fuck, Logan?" you demand, eyeing Logan the same way you would if he spontaneously grew another head right at this moment.
"Hey, don't blame me! George was the one that put it in my head," Logan deflects, raising his hands up as if to surrender.
"George?!" comes your incredulous reply. "Why the fuck is George speculating about me and Alex?"
Logan gives you an equally exasperated look. "He's Alex's best friend, duh. We were in the media pen together and we got talking. He said that you and Alex were being weird around each other and, in his words, not in an avoidance kind of way but in a 'they-refuse-to-be-more-than-five-feet-away-from-each-other' kind of way. It's throwing George off-kilter, or so he says."
You pause, unable to provide enough words in order to deny the accusation. Not that it wasn't true. Not when you were in Alex's room last night, his hand over your mouth while he railed you against the bathroom sink.
Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.
"So? Are you sleeping together or not?"
Your throat runs dry and you fight the urge to cough again, because that's totally not suspicious at all. You muster up all the nonchalance in your body, shrugging and shaking your head as if everything you've talked about in the past five minutes was all a big misunderstanding.
"I don't know where you got that idea, Loges," you brush off.
"The two of you sit in each other's lap," Logan supplies.
"We used to do that when we were younger" you reply.
"I caught him with his hand in your back pocket the other day."
"It's a joke we have."
"Even the kisses on the cheek? The ones that might as well be on your mouth?"
You narrow your eyes at Logan. You feel your heart thundering and you're not sure if you're showing any other signs of lying. You've always been a bad liar. Your face could be a deep shade of red or you could be sweating through your shirt right now. You definitely feel every hair on your body stand on end with how nervous you are.
"Just because you don't have a friendship like ours doesn't mean you get to judge it, Sargeant," you say with a roll of your eye.
Oh, you are so fucked.
-
"George asked me the weirdest thing today."
Your head snaps up as you hear Alex exit the bathroom, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. It's just after qualifying and Alex had trudged up to his room, crestfallen as was the norm for him in the last couple of races, with him being stuck in perpetual Q2. He'd given you a keycard to his room at the beginning of the weekend, telling you to come and go as you please, and you very much were pleased to wait for him after today's disappointing session.
Nothing a little blowie and a hot shower couldn't fix.
"Did he ask about me and you?" You question, stretching slowly on the bed, burrowing further beneath the sheets. Alex meets your eyes, his forehead creased.
"How'd you know?"
You shrug. "Logan asked me the same thing today."
"And? What did you tell him?" Alex presses further, grabbing a pair of his underwear from the haphazardly packed suitcase on the floor.
"Nothing. I told him he was crazy for thinking that," you say, watching as Alex drops the towel, his ass in full view.
"Is he really, though?" Alex asks, turning back to you with a smirk.
Something about the way the warm hotel lights hit his face and the way his neck is still wet from the shower makes you want to crawl right up to him and ask if you could have a repeat of last night.
"Oh yeah," you respond sarcastically, throwing the covers off of you. Alex found you in your (his) oversized hoodie when he came back from the track earlier, but you've discarded it now to reveal the skimpy pajama set you had on underneath.
"We're totally not fucking on the low like a pair of rabbits," you add, grinning as you see Alex chuck his underwear back onto the pile. He crosses the room in two strides, climbing onto the bed and effortlessly positioning himself over you.
"I hate you," Alex says, but any actual reprimand is undetected as he smiles even wider down at you. "I just showered, babe."
"Guess you'll have to keep the mess in if you know what I mean," you reply coyly, sliding your hands down Alex's torso, down his chiseled abdomen, and further to where his cock stands half hard.
You take it into your hand and start stroking, Alex drawing in a breath as he feels you squeeze along the base.
"Fuck, you mean...?" Alex asks, his own fingers creeping up beneath your pajama top.
You nod. "Fill me up, Alex. Please?"
It's the 'please' that does it for him, a low grunt escaping Alex as he attacks your lips with such ferocity the wind is practically knocked out of you.
Alex wastes no time as he yanks your shorts down your thighs, underwear already sticky due to the anticipation. You shimmy and manage to get it down to your ankles, kicking your shorts and panties off unceremoniously.
"Get naked for me, baby," Alex whispers before kissing along the side of your neck, his rough hands hiking your top up over your bare breasts. You whimper, legs hooking around Alex's hips.
You manage to get the thin camisole off, throwing it in the relative area where you think your bottoms may be. Alex automatically latches onto one of your nipples, tongue circling the rapidly hardening nub. You gasp as you feel the faintest hint of teeth graze against it.
You have no time to process much of it, though, because you feel two fingers press against your cunt, searching but quickly locating your clit before rubbing tiny circles all over it.
"You're such a good friend..." Alex teases, chuckling when he sees your eyes roll back into your head, his finger having just slipped inside you.
"...getting wet for me like this and all."
Alex adds another digit in and drags them along on your inside walls, curling and uncurling in intervals, just how you like it. You cry out when he immediately picks up the pace, giving you no time to simmer in the sensation for too long.
"F-Fuck, Alex," you whine, hips rutting in time with the movements of his hand.
"We'll get there, sweetheart," Alex reassures with a laugh and you reach up to smack him in the arm.
"You're such an idiot," you manage in between gasps of pleasure. "Just fuck me already."
Alex withdraws his fingers and you spread your legs even wider, assuming that he would heed your demand, but Alex just slides further down the bed, leveling his face with your drenched cunt.
"I said we'll get there, _______," Alex repeats, much more serious now, his eyes peeking up as he presses his mouth against your folds.
You practically quiver at the use of your name, Alex holding your gaze as he wraps his lips around your clit. Your mouth flies open and you slap a hand over the lower half of your face, afraid that any sound that comes out now will surpass the thick hotel walls.
Alex draws slow circles over the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucking and licking here and there. It takes everything in you not to thrash around with how good Alex is eating you out. Your thighs practically lock around his head and he only groans, large hands gripping them even tighter in place.
You feel the familiar knot building up, your hips rocking against Alex's face. You're getting close despite Alex just getting into it. The way he plays your body like an instrument, wills it to bend to his commands– it brings you to the edge every time. As if no other person could know your body as well as he does.
And then it disappears, Alex frees himself from your grip, lips glistening with you, your arousal all over his chin.
"Not yet," Alex orders, hiking your thighs higher, pressing them closer to your body. Without breaking eye contact again, Alex aligns himself between your legs, angling himself closer.
The first slide in is always the best. Alex hisses as he sheaths himself inside you and you let a moan rip through you, hotel neighbors be damned.
You've been waiting for this the whole day.
Alex gives a few cursory thrusts, his sounds growing louder the more he feels from inside you. You lock your legs around his hips once more, pulling him even closer.
"You better make this orgasm worth it, Alex," you taunt, pressing your forehead against Alex's.
Alex merely wraps his arms around you, pressing himself fully onto you. His hips start to hammer down on yours and you yelp, your whole body rocking with the motions of Alex's thrusts.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting at the taut skin before soothing it with his tongue afterward.
"You know better than to run your mouth, baby," Alex says with a soft chuckle, a contrast with how hard he's pounding into you now. All you can say in response is a garbled mix of his name and a few swear words.
A moment later, Alex pulls away, face contorted into concentration as he readjusts your legs so they lay over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle on you.
"Oh fuck–!"
You're cut off as Alex rams into you roughly, evidently chasing his own release now. He pushes your knees closer to your chest and you have to laugh, albeit weakly, seeing as your best friend, the one you swore you weren't sleeping with, has you in a fucking mating press.
"God, Alex, what are we doing?" You choke out, the delicious stretch between your legs building up the pressure in your abdomen.
"You tell me," Alex says before leaning down to kiss you, teeth clashing and tongues darting out frantically. You're bent into yourself in a way that you never knew possible, but here you are, spread for and debauched by none other than Alexander Albon.
Alex moans into the kiss, thrusts getting shallower by the second. Every hit of his pelvis against yours, every drag of his cock inside sends you closer to what you wanted most.
"Come on Alex, give it to me."
Finally, Alex stills, his hips snapping up one last time as he cums deep inside you. He fucks you through his orgasm and you know it's sensitive for him in the way he whines, but a few final strokes are all it takes for you to cum around Alex's cock, vision going white and your nails digging into Alex's back.
You're both panting, breath spent and bodies aching. Alex carefully extracts himself from your hold, pulling out cautiously. You groan at the sensation and he giggles, seemingly amused at your discomfort.
To his credit, Alex rushes to grab the discarded towel he was using earlier, quickly handing it to you as you feel the...remnants of him spill out of you.
"Damn, you came a lot," you comment, slipping the towel between your legs. You meet Alex's eyes and the two of you burst out laughing.
"I was saving that for you," Alex says, settling down beside you, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. Your face scrunched up as he does so but you're smiling nonetheless.
"Gross," you deadpan.
"Don't say that when my children are literally inside of you," Alex warns.
You elbow him hard in the ribs.
-
You wake up, the smell of coffee the first thing registering in your mind. You roll over and are immediately hit with the wall that is Alex's shoulder.
Alex chuckles, raising his arm up so you can crawl into his side. You groggily pull yourself against his chest, head right against his heartbeat.
"Morning," Alex whispers. You groan in reply, still too sleepy to form coherent sentences.
"I ordered you breakfast. You can go back to sleep if you want to, but I have to go in a bit," he continues and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.
You feel a flutter in your chest and your eyes fly open. Great.
"Thanks, Alex," you murmur, cuddling up closer to him. He doesn't say anything, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.
"Love you," you add.
And you do. Love him. As a friend or as something else, you'll just have to figure out.
Alex hums, tucking your head beneath his chin.
"Love you, too."
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Friendly Competition
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Content: Explicit sexual acts, Jackson!AU, no use of y/n, jealousy and angst, mentions of alcohol consumption/intoxication, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, soft dom Joel (lowkey)
Summary: It was difficult, but Joel had to set a boundary, one he's having trouble adhering to. And back in Jackson, things aren't any easier. When an old friend comes around, it muddies the waters. Joel tries his best to assure you that it's not what it looks like, but you won't be easily swayed.
Word Count: 5.4k +
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The ride back to Jackson was much brighter than your journey out. Fluttering in your chest kept you on edge, buzzing down to your fingertips, coursing through you like small bursts of lightning. All over one simple kiss.
Though it had been anything but.
Twenty minutes ago, Joel had you pinned on the wooden fence, moving his lips in tandem with yours, shattering your plaguing tension. Joel wasn't sure when, or if, he'd have made a move if he didn't seize that opportunity. He would've cursed himself if he hadn't tried.
And to his surprise, you had given him everything in return. You accepted his kiss with a dying thirst, and the passion had been for him. Someone, knowing so little of his sins, of his regrets, would give their love so freely. Someone wanted him.
His hands gripped the reins as the edge of Jackson came into view. He had a thousand things to say but didn't know where to begin.
He detested that it had to start here.
He spoke up finally, breaking the calm silence, "Listen, I think we should talk."
It didn't take you by any surprise. Even still, your heart sank.
You made the daunting choice to face him, inviting the conversation. You were asking for the dagger of newfound love to pierce your chest, for it to carve you open.
"Okay," you replied, coaxing your voice into neutrality.
The effort was in vain. There was a tightness in your throat that couldn't be shaken. Your voice shrank, barely coming out as a squeak. The sudden shift didn't go unnoticed by him. What expression of joy that had been there before had been replaced with worry. Joel's eyes averted to the ground. He hated this. Knowing that he spurred on this whole... situation, and worse, that he'd be the one to shatter the hope.
And fuck, the look on your face.
Joel made himself bear it. This was his punishment.
He sighed, "This... what happened back there.." He gestured between you, his words failing him.
The birds chirped happily around you, the only sound filling stagnant space. His half-dead sentence hung with his head. With aching pain in your chest, you finish it for him. You stilled your expression and resolved yourself to turn away. The words feel distant as you say them. They weren't yours - borrowed from the times you'd been through this before.
"It was a mistake."
He was thankful you weren't able to see him wince. Joel digested the words, but showed no agreement to them. He refused to let that be the truth. His breath came out slowly, exasperated.
"You got a habit of finishin' people's sentences, y'know that?"
The jab would've made you laugh were it not for the hole in your chest. And despite the effort made to lighten the mood, the pang of regret in Joel's chest grew.
He continued, voice terse, "If you think it was a mistake, then we can forget it. But, regardless-" he stopped himself, searching for the gentlest words. A way to make this painless.
"It can't happen again."
Telling yourself it was a mistake had not made it true, and had not prepared you for those final words. They were a death sentence.
You still held the lead, but you no longer feel his stare, the occasional glance. You were thankful for the distance, for the small amount of privacy it gave you to let welling tears fall. Jackson loomed even closer, just minutes away if Belle were to go at full speed. A frantic urge tore at you to race ahead, like breaking away would erase what happened - like it would take back what was already said and done.
There were a million things to say, but you knew it wouldn't change his stance. You mustered a small, simple nod. Joel didn't expect much after a blow this low. He understood the silence, for whatever reason you needed it - he anticipated anger, hoped for it, even. Welcomed it. It would give him closure after the shitshow he created.
If you left, forgot about all this trouble he caused, Joel could shift his focus elsewhere. It had been a futile effort since you came to town. You were a distraction. The worst kind.
It was enough justification, Joel thought, to be okay with this. To let things between you go stale. Untouched.
Dismounting Belle back at the ranch relieved your body, but your mind and heart were different matters. Joel dropped from his horse without a word, already started on the process of unloading his gear. You watched him as he's turned, noting a lower slump to his shoulders.
You shifted your attention back to Belle, mindlessly disassembling her gear. Your fingers fumbled dumbly with the buckles of her saddle, new tears blurring your vision. The silence between you and Joel this morning had been uncomfortable, but this....
Silence like this was far too heavy. It held too many unspoken words, and even more questions.
The quiet was no longer an issue when a new voice rung around the stables, cheery and bright.
"Joel!" It was the voice of a woman, "Oh my gosh, back already?"
You peered around Belle just in time to see her arms wrapping around Joel's neck, giving him a close hug. The stranger let out a delighted giggle before she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Joel murmured something inaudible that broke the embrace.
Her small talk was empty save for obvious flirtations, her voice turning whiny and playful as she spoke. You couldn't help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone, the incessant pushing. Joel said very little, but that stupid grin never fell from her face. Her wide, green eyes drank him in. As if you weren't even there, ten feet away, privy to it all.
Bitch.
With an undetected sneer, you finish unloading and take Belle's lead in hand. You settle your rage to simmer beneath the surface while you lead Belle out of the stables.
--
This was the last thing he needed right now. But here she was, thrown around his neck unashamedly, as if she'd been waiting so impatiently for his return. A slap in the face, compared to the situation he'd put you in an hour ago. You had truly been waiting for him. It had to be some sort of cosmic joke.
Joel placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a wry smile.
"Wasn't gone that long, Georgia."
Her eyes brighten hearing her name on his lips. The smile she wore was a stab to the gut. It shouldn't be her that was beaming, welcoming him, showing concern for his safety. Hers was not the face he wanted to fantasize about throughout his day. To come home to.
He patted her shoulder, hiding his contempt with a softer, weary smile, "Pretty tired after today, sorry. Not really feelin' it."
This wasn't the first time Georgia had been this doting. But the openness of it irked him, especially with the present company.
"Hmmm.... Sounds like someone needs to unwind," she suggested, lips tugging into a smirk. A serpentine look with her eyes crinkling proudly while a greedy smile formed. She always had a deeper motivation. He saw that spark igniting in her mind.
In the past, they had shared their need for intimacy - they fulfilled that need many times. She was a nice enough girl, he supposed. Joel thought it would be simple. No strings attached.
If he didn't turn her away soon, there was no telling how this evening would go. His need for a distraction almost tempted him into agreeing, but a flare of guilt in his chest instantly washed away the idea. It was unfathomable to think of this woman when you were so close by. And not when he was trying to still the feelings you'd brought about for him.
He stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest, "Tonight's not the best night. Gotta do a raincheck this time."
Even still, her smile didn't falter. If there was one thing she was worst at, it was taking a damn hint.
Georgia's eyes dart to the horse that started to leave the stables. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, her eyes wide in amusement. She whispered to him, pointing to the horse and who was guiding it outside.
"Uh oh, apparently we had company~"
Joel knew of said 'company'. Glaringly so.
He steeled himself as he joined Georgia in watching you leave. He noted how she watched you go with satisfaction, how her smile grew once you rounded the corner. Her joy was in such stark contrast to the anguish that flooded through him, seeping into his bones.
You didn't look back as you left.
I'm lost in admiration
Could I need you this much?
Oh, you're wasting my time-
"You're just - just- just wastin' time-" you sang out, the lyrics slurring together. You refused to let yourself wallow, so you opted for the best way to forget. Alcohol.
It was better than dealing with stupid Joel and his stupid rules.
Plus, it detached the meaning of the lyrics, the ones about being overwhelmingly in love, being completely enamored with someone, unable to be without them. The cassette tapes you had collected were few, but Tears for Fears were a classic you played the most often.
"Something happens and I'm head over heels-" you sang out, swaying your hips with the beat. A brief fantasy flashed in your mind of Joel joining in from behind, holding you while you danced and sang. You envisioned him singing along, his voice low and gentle, even though you'd never heard him do so.
Yet the lyrics carried you away alone. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm take you, a cup of mead in hand. Granted, it was probably a poor decision for Pete to give you a whole bottle to yourself, probably worse for you to have downed two glasses. But you felt free right now, blissfully ignorant to the outside world.
Until it came, quite literally, knocking at your door.
The rapping broke you out of your dancing. You panted softly as you paused the cassette player, the room growing uncomfortably still in the silence. Perhaps you kept the neighbors awake with your singing. Frosted glass on the front door revealed a familiar silhouette, making you freeze. Heat coursed through you as you reached for the handle, pulling the door open just enough to see your visitor.
Joel stood at the top of the steps to the house. He wore his usual serious expression, though it eased at the sight of you.
Whatever confidence the mead gave you earlier had vanished - the sudden appearance was sobering enough on its own. Your flushed cheeks were clear evidence of how you were dealing with this afternoon, that you wanted to forget what happened. Joel clenched his jaw, remorseful yet again. He was causing this, but had been desperately searching for a solution, in his own way. Unfortunately, 'his way' hadn't earned him many favors in the past. Joel knew that his abrasiveness would wear you down, your bright spirit, that light in your soul. If that didn't, then learning of his past certainly would - the heinous things he'd done to survive, the lives he'd ruined. They hadn't all been guilty, either, so the validity of 'survival' was in question. Those years held the most regret. Now he stood on your doorstep, carrying this invisible burden. He straightened his spine and squared out his shoulders, shifting nervously on his feet.
Maybe seeing you was the worse option. Maybe he was rubbing salt in the wound.
You straightened, frantically building your composure. Blush crept onto your cheeks as you greeted him in your bedclothes, glass of mead still in hand. Your oversized shirt and sleep shorts did little to help you look presentable and ready for the unexpected company.
"Hi," you greeted softly.
The smile you were longing to see was back. A rare softness had returned to Joel's features. He placed his hands on his hips.
Joel smiled down at you, his gaze tender, "Evening."
His damned voice could get you drunk on its own. That intoxicating Southern accent was as sweet and deep as whiskey.
The hair on the nape of your neck stood on end. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You needed the space and freedom to forget about Joel, and he landed at your doorstep.
He'd changed out of his old clothes, his hair tidier than before. Though he wasn't close enough to tell, you swore you caught a brief whiff of cologne. And here you were, in your pajamas, hair loose and unbrushed, completely unprepared.
You stammered, "Do- uhm... do you want to come in?"
Affection shone in his eyes at your flustered state; he gave you a once over, chuckling slightly. Joel prepared himself for this - truly prepared himself, in ways he hadn't done in months. Hell, he even found himself putting on cologne. He'd just gone to change his shirt, but the thought of seeing you after the fiasco from earlier had him fully prepared. Fully presentable.
There was a beat of silence that let Joel's eyes wander over your form. His gaze burned through your thin sleep shirt, roving over your bare legs with a greed that slipped through the cracks in his composure.
You stood in front of him with wide eyes, holding yourself around the waist, a new type of vulnerability you hadn't yet shown. He eyed the way you bit your lip, his focus whisked away by desire. Your outfit didn't help suppress Joel's imagination, either - it was the most exposed you'd been in front of him. He found himself selfishly taking you in, fully and properly.
Those shorts did no favors in hiding the curves of your thighs; your shirt did even more disservice to his willpower. It was thin, too thin. It hung off one shoulder to reveal your collarbone to him, hanging loosely at your chest, displaying your nipples poking against the fabric.
He snapped back to attention, clearing his throat before making his way inside, "Sure, thanks."
The door snapped shut behind you, keeping you and Joel in the new stifling proximity. You motioned generally to the space.
"Make yourself at home," you told him, the awkwardness slowly easing away. You made for the kitchen sink to return your half-downed glass of mead, breathing away your nerves. Joel took the cue in his own way, finding himself leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter, feet away from you.
His stare had hardened. You braced for another lecture.
"What happened back at the stables, I-"
Reintroducing the events erupted jealousy in your chest, and the residual buzz from the mead aired it out. You snapped, though the hurt was still evident in your cracked voice. There was no time for small talk. There could be no casual 'how was your day?' after what happened.
"Who was she?" Your demand struck him. He knew this would come.
Joel pressed his lips into a thin line before answering.
"Her name's Georgia. We've been friends for a while." He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, avoiding your stare. He didn't want to confront the reality of his words, how they would pain you.
The words were chosen carefully, cherrypicked to be as vague as possible. He didn't want to explain Georgia when all he wanted was to dissolve her from his memory. Didn't want to see the hurt in your eyes, searching to understand.
It wasn't enough for you. It was a bullshit answer.
"Friends is the right term for it?" You pressed. Joel's eyes dart to yours before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.
The term was empty as Joel's feelings for the other woman. He didn't spend much casual time with Georgia; he didn't enjoy her company. In truth, she was irritating - her only humor was harsh jokes, she was too invested in drama. But she was available at the time.
He should've waited. He didn't want to believe anyone else would come along, let alone as alluring as you. If Joel knew Georgia would've become such a pain, he wouldn't have entertained her to begin with.
His eyebrows knit together, "Do we really have to do this right now?"
"Yes, Joel," you hissed, "You're not gonna bullshit me - I already know. I know she's not a friend. People who are 'just friends' don't... act like that." You quote the words in the air. The anger had bubbled over the surface, just as Joel had anticipated.
In contrast to your outburst, Joel stood unyielding in his story.
He began, "We have history, alright?"
Your face flashed to frustration, but he continued, raising a hand to stop you. "It's been over a year. She had it out with her fiancé couple weeks back - she's just... dealing with it in her own way."
You scoffed, "So, you're fucking someone else's fiancée. Nice, Joel."
Joel's features hardened. His morals had been perpetually grayscale, so he didn't pay mind to the consequences of his choices. Georgia had been his escape, his secret, and now his biggest mistake.
"Was. Was fucking."
You countered, "Like that makes it better."
Joel doesn't expect his correction to change your feelings, but it's something. You snapped your mouth shut, exhaling deeply as you followed his suit, leaning against the kitchen counter. You took a deep breath before carrying on.
"So, what changed?"
It could've been a one word answer if Joel had the balls to admit it right then. His efforts had been to avoid complication. But he knew what he said next could shape everything.
So he opted for honesty. A vulnerable admission. The slight numbing in his fingers and pounding heart made him feel young again, in a way. He hadn't felt this jittery in decades. Joel wrung his hands together, nodding once. He'd made his choice.
"You came to Jackson."
Joel recalled the day you approached the massive gate, hobbling from a sprained ankle that wouldn't heal properly. He took watch from the wall, observing Jackson's newcomer from the vantage point, watching you depart with Maria. Despite your obvious injury, you kept a smile on your face, being grateful to have found safety.
It wasn't until your first group patrol that he saw you again. That time you were closer, and he was finally able to make out your features. Your wide eyes and a growing blush gave him a warm confidence. None of the other newbies had looked at him like that before. But, that time as well, he turned away.
He would be a fool to do it again.
"Things changed when you showed up, and I've been doing my best to keep things normal. I wanted to think that, at first, it was just some... y'know, mild flirting. And I liked that, I really did," Joel slowly inched closer as he continued. "I tried tellin' myself that it was nothing, but I can't find truth to that anymore."
Your legs turned to lead, unable to move, unable to deny him. Each nearing step heated your stomach, flipped it over itself, and shot your heart to your throat. Joel now stood inches away, pinning you against the counter like he'd done at the fence.
"I tried convincing myself a lot of things. That you wouldn't feel the same, that maybe I was misreading things, or maybe it was all just- just some dumb crush, or whatever." It felt stupid to say it, but that was the feeling. A crush.
It was laughable, an old man like him feeling that young love again. Yet, here was someone who could consume his full attention with a single smile. You had a depth of feeling and care that he couldn't measure up to, not in a lifetime. There was no undoing his damage.
You didn't share that belief.
Your eyes flickered to his as you raised a hand to his cheek. The scruff of his beard itched into your palm, your fingers carding into the salt-and-pepper hair. His skin was weathered and warm, tanned from years under the Texas sun. The crinkles around his eyes displayed both his age and his affection. They tightened a certain way when he smiled - you wondered if he knew that about himself, the simple beauties of him. Subtle details that only one in love would notice.
You lowered your voice to a whisper, "Well, do you think you have it figured out now?"
His stare lingered on your lips too long. As good as his poker face was, Joel's eyes gave his desire away. Your gentle touch thawed out his hardened look. He sighed softly.
Joel knew that his answer would seal his fate. He would have to accept any 'complications' that followed.
Wordlessly, Joel dipped his head lower, brushing his lips tentatively over yours. Your hand slipped behind his head to draw him in, to take those last few millimeters and shove them aside, to take it all.
You released a wanton moan past Joel's parting lips. He took it on with his own low groan - a deep, possessing noise that pooled heat between your legs. It was Joel's body pressing you to the counter that kept you stable, but his adventurous hands did you no favors. He broke his mouth from yours, panting.
"Do you have any idea how hard this's been for me?" His breath was hot against your neck, slowly creeping to your ear. "With all your damn teasin', it's been hard to hold myself back. Shit, I tried."
His words melted your core. You shifted your thighs together to find the evidence of your desire, just how wet you'd gotten.
A warm, open kiss landed under your jaw, making you shudder. A small moan left you involuntarily. Such a bright, mystifying, intoxicating sound that had Joel breathless against your skin. His hands found your waist, gaining purchase on the fabric of your shirt, tugging desperately at its hem.
You bucked your hips forward, only to find a growing bulge in Joel's worn jeans, firm and warm against your belly. Drool pooled in your mouth at the feeling of him, and your hands itched to reach downward.
Joel's hands cupped under your ass, kneading into the soft flesh before he hoisted you up and onto the kitchen counter. The biting cold of it pressed into your legs, quickly replaced with Joel's warmth gliding over skin, each shuddering breath coursing through you.
His mouth worked down to your collarbone, his sentences were broken between kisses laid along your collarbone.
"You knew it, too, didn't you, sweetheart?" Kiss. Joel's hands still idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching his fingers under it. You throw your head back against the cabinet, rolling your hips forward as invitation.
"You knew what you were doin', flirting with me like you've been-" He lowered himself down, kissing over the fabric of your shirt, letting it stand between you for now.
Greedy hands crept up your thighs, igniting your skin along the way. Tightness grew in your abdomen while he moved along, planting hot kisses across your chest. Joel worked meticulously to deny you and keep you waiting for more. His mouth landed kisses below a nipple, then on the right, then on the left, before repeating the moves on the other breast.
He didn't leave you unattended. Joel cupped your neglected tit, working it slowly in his hand, reaching for your perk nipple. His fingers work it thoroughly, pinching and twisting, listening to your beautiful noises.
"Joel," you cried out, your hands finding his broad shoulders. His muscles flexed and stretched under your fingers, his chest rising and falling in time with your hurried breaths.
This is what he'd been wanting to hear: you saying his name. Not from Georgia, not from anyone else's lips. And now you laid here beneath him, uttering it like it was holy.
It was music to his ears.
Joel hummed lowly, the sensation reverberating through your entire being. A teasing warmth played with your nipple - Joel's tongue had come out to play. He laid it flat against the sensitive bud, still through your thin shirt, but it gave little barrier. You could still feel his tongue circling your nipple before lapping slowly, drawing out a new shuddering moan. He groaned beneath you with great satisfaction.
"That's it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, "lemme hear you. Tell me how good it feels, baby."
With your senses alight, you couldn't form words. Instead, you let out another cry as Joel caught your nipple between his teeth. He chuckled softly at your noise, replying with a gentle smack on your ass. This was far more tender than how he'd normally be. It would be his biggest lesson with you - restraint. Until you told him otherwise, he'd tread carefully.
Your hips widened to invite him closer, yet Joel left the distance as it was, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your front. His mouth found yours once more with great desperation, as if the only clean air was what you shared. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, pulling away just enough for you to start to whine.
"Joel," you whimpered weakly, "Joel, I need more."
The request lit a fire in him. It was more than just permission, you were just as deprived as he was.
"More?" repeated Joel. You nodded quickly. He leisurely stood with a wide smirk, towering over you, his hand gliding lazily along your inner thigh. Joel mirrored himself on the other side, working his hands up the inside of your legs, so close to finding home. It's hardly enough, and yet too much. Your legs splayed out on either side, quivering, as you look up at Joel.
The neediness of your expression would've had Joel undressed in seconds, but he needed to take his time.
His gaze stripped you bare. He met your eyes as one of his hands meandered up your thigh, securing its spot at the waistband of your shorts.
Joel spoke idly while he hooked his rough, calloused fingers at the band, "Needy lil' thing, aren't ya?"
There was no time or breath to reply. Your breaths began to shudder as Joel used both hands to work your shorts down. The seconds feel like hours, but neither of you are willing to rush this. After holding back and stifling your feelings, this is what you deserved.
Quickly, Joel's lips wander down your neck, just as he helped you shift your legs out of your sleep shorts, slowly but surely. You kicked them off, letting them fall at Joel's feet, baring you before him.
He didn't know how to place it, but keeping your shirt on added to the seduction, still having part of you hidden from him until later. Another surprise would be waiting for him. For now, there was work to do.
"Don't worry, honey, I'll give you watcha need. I'll take good care of you," cooed Joel, who now led his index finger further up your thigh. It wasn't until he broke away that the praise began to flow.
Holding your thighs splayed out, Joel hissed through his teeth. Your pussy was on full display for his viewing, bare and dripping. He dropped to his knees before you, leveling himself at your entrance, his parted lips inches away from your needy hole.
He exhaled, parting your slit with a thumb. You were beyond what he imagined. Your pussy pathetically clenched down on nothing, desperate to be filled.
"Ain't that a pretty sight," Joel teased, suddenly running circles on your clit with his tumb. You whimpered into your palm, trying to stifle your sounds.
Pleasure coiled persistently in your stomach, creeping up your spine. Joel eyed your cunt as it trembled under his touch, smiling in awe - he'd never seen a body so beautiful.
Joel observed your writhing under his touch, memorizing every movement, burning them into his memory. Which touches made you arch your back, which ones made your thighs tremble. Your body, all on its own, ached and throbbed for him. He was the luckiest man alive.
And that desperate, pleading look on your face... God damn him.
This was far beyond what he had anticipated for this visit. If he had a lick of sense in him, Joel would've stayed at his own place. But even as he sat on his couch with his guitar on his knee, you wormed your way into his train of thought. Hell, you were the damn conductor of it. It wasn't until the sixth slip-up that Joel resolved himself to do something. The thought of you infiltrated everything - his work, his hobbies, his sleep.
Sleep had been most difficult, given that Joel pictured you there, too.
He couldn't have predicted this outcome, though. Joel leaned closer to your needy pussy, hovering his mouth over your swollen clit, relishing in the small moans you produced. His hands found your waist and gripped securely, testing the security of your position.
"Joel, please," you begged softly, "I can't take this anymore."
Your whining brought out a low chuckle from him, to add to your frustration. You groaned, bucking your hips forward. If he wasn't going to give you what you needed, you'd do your best to take it.
The grip on your waist tightened. A warning.
You looked down to find his stare intently on yours, his eyes overcast with lust. Speechless at the scene before you it was impossible to move, to look away. Joel kept your stare as he parted his lips to reveal his tongue, dipping lower and pressing it flat against your clit. The warmth was an instant, white-hot pleasure that drew your body into him.
"Oh, fuck-" you gasped. Joel hummed happily against your clit in response, swirling his tongue gingerly. He tested your waters once again, switching directions and rhythm, slipping his tongue around the entrance of your cunt.
He broke away with much protest on your end. Before you could utter a complaint he melted you once more.
"You sound so goddamn beautiful," muttered Joel. "You have no idea how many times I thought about this, pretty girl."
You mewled at the praise as Joel introduced a finger at your entrance, tending to your deprived hole as he showered you again.
"The number of times I pictured this moment... it's almost shameful. But I just couldn't help myself," he inched his finger deeper with each pause, drawing out your hissing breath. "And believe me, I tried to fight it back, but then I'd see you again, and it started all over."
With that, Joel curled his finger to greet your sweet spot. Crying out, you bit into your hand.
"Awh, what's wrong, sweetheart? You feelin' shy?" Joel teased darkly, "Don't want the neighbors to hear how good I'm making you feel?"
He savored the sound that fell from your lips, and he added a second finger. Curling masterfully like before, you were slowly stretched around him, walls fluttering as the coil in your belly tightened. Joel worked his fingers dutifully, angling deeper, he needed to hear you again - fuck the neighbors, let them find out. They'd get a good show, that's for sure.
His fingers' occupied state let Joel stand again, his lips and mustache glossy from your slick. A sly, devilish smile was your only sign to prepare yourself. Joel watched your face contort as he found a quickening pace. There was an obscene harmony filling the room - your sweet noises, and the sound of Joel's fingers plunging into your pussy.
"Hah.... hah... fffuck... Joel-"
"I know, pretty girl, keep it up. You can do it."
"I can't... I think I-I'm gonna... hah... I'm gonna-"
He commanded, "Give it to me, sweetheart. Show me whatcha look like when you fall apart."
You were pushed to the edge, and Joel sent you tumbling over it. Your climax slammed through you with a barrage of stars scattered across your vision. The world around you muffled, and while you couldn't make out what Joel said, you could see the satisfaction on his face.
Slowly, the world came back, and your breath began to slow. A satisfied grin plastered on your face, your body sated and languid. Joel tilted his head, smirking. The question begs an answer.
"Oh, honey, what am I gonna do with you?"
Y'all.
All honesty, this chapter took SO long to finish, my brain is now oatmeal. But the gremlin in my brain has been ITCHING to write smut, and we're FINALLY HERE RAHHHHH
(I'm sorry I stopped it here, but to be fair it's not the first cliffhanger I've done. Nor will it be the last. The next part will be out asap my loves!)
And if you liked this chapter, be sure to read the others! My masterlist is linked in the top of this post :)
xoxo,
Bunny
#bunny writes#tlou#the last of us#tlou2#the last of us 2#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#fanfiction#fic writing#smut writing#tlou smut#pedro pascal joel miller
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Aimless outing
in which you took your significant other out for a ride.
pairing: idia shroud x yuu/reader
contents: kinda short oneshot, lower case intended, this is just a spoonful of sugar tbh, everyone thank deuce for lending us his blastcycle, kinda ooc idia? idk, actually based on a screenshot in the game i'm playing and i love that lmao, reader is referred to as yuu, gender neutral reader and narrated with you/yours
★ the daydreamer speaks — my second entry for my tumblr older sibling @cloudcountry's sweet shroud summer 2024!! the worms are worming and i'm on a roll hehe ^-^
do i tag? yes, i do. my main idia liker: @edith-is-a-cat, others: @identity-theft-101 @keii-starz @xen-blank @loser-jpg @lemonchuu @dove-da-birb @twistwonderlanddevotee @escha-evenstar
remember to comment or reblog if you enjoy my work!!
"Yuu-shi, where are we going!?"
"Somewhere, anywhere! Does it really matter?"
a slow sunday and the lack of immediate tasks in your schedule was all you needed. and what better way to spend the day with your beloved than taking him out for a ride?
deuce was kind enough to lend you his blastcycle for this little trip of yours, wishing you good luck and all, and you've already gotten permission to go out from the headmage the day before, as much as you hated his gut. meanwhile, ortho was doing his best to get idia waiting outside of campus, and making sure he didn't second guess his desicions before you arrive.
and that led us to where you were now, going kilometres per hour as if gliding through the highway, feeling the cool wind of a chilly afternoon excitedly picking up your hair as the sun retreated behind the mountains. you loved the thrill it gave you, if the bright wide grin on your face was of any indications.
idia, on the other hand, was a bit overwhelmed. with his arms coiled tightly around your waist, hands trembling ever so slightly, he hid his face in your hair, not daring even a peek at the blurring surroundings.
"It's not a ride if you can't see what made it so fun in the first place, Idia! Just give it a try, then we can go back if you want."
idia stayed quiet, weighing his options. he could ask you to go back and return to the monotony of his life, safe yet nothing special. or, he could continue on this ride, just you and him on the road to an ambiguous destination.
he opened his eyes, widening as they laid on the most beautiful painting of dusk mother nature had drawn. white, pink, and orange blended together so harmoniously on a darkening blue canvas. rows of clouds lined the sky, bouncing around the little lights left of the sun onto the crashing waves the sea created.
his breath was taken away.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?"
idia could only muttered a soft 'yeah' as his eyes glued at picturesque scenery, taking in all he could for he wasn't sure he was going to see such a sight again. his tight grip on you slowly loosened, now only wrapping around your waist like a warm hug you would give him on chilly days.
the moon soon made its appearance as the canvas of nature was painted black, stars glimmering from beyond like diamonds in the sky. the two of you was making your way back to campus, with the blastcycle's headlights and idia's hair illuminating the road.
idia found the night sky was beautiful, a lot different from dusk, but he loved it all the same.
it was a fleeting sensation of a thrill so different than what his heart was used to, but it was welcoming, a comfort even. especially when you were there with him, laughing without a care and genuinely living in the moment.
it was a memory he wished to never forget.
#sweet shroud summer 2024#irene's writings ♡#twst#twisted wonderland#twst fic#twst fluff#idia shroud#twst idia#twisted wonderland idia#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#twst idia x reader#idia shroud x yuu#idia x yuu#idia x mc#idia shroud fluff#this only took me 2 hours + a tea break lmao
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Hello!! Starting this off with the mushy gushy stuff like how much I adore your writing and talent and how I hope you know how appreciated you are, all that jazz 👐 Anywhosies, onto the nitty gritty, the other day in my psych lecture I learned more in depth about operant conditioning, which is a theory by B.F Skinner about how a behavior is either reinforced or encouraged through a series of punishments and/or reinforcements, and i thought of our resident brainiac, Spencer Reid! He seems the type to be interested in theories like that and there application in day-to-day life, and so what else is he supposed to do other than condition fem!reader! (Consensually and safely of course) obviously he wouldn’t have malicious intent, but say reader wasn’t super confident in the bedroom, he would steadily over time ‘condition’ her into being more open about her wants and needs through rewards when she’s vocal! If you are in any way uncomfortable writing this please feel free to disregard! <33333
This was fun!! Thank you for requesting babe :)
cw: smut mdni, fingering, edging
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 912 words
You gasp, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Spencer looks up at you interestedly.
“That’s progress,” he says, but frowns when he sees your lip. He lets go of your leg to encourage it free. “Don’t do that, please.”
“Sorry,” you manage, breathless. You feel shaky.
Spencer offers you a smile, brown eyes so kind it hurts. “That’s okay. We’re learning, right? I don’t expect you to pick it up all at once.”
You’re not sure how to respond to that and in the end you don’t have to, Spencer’s fingers sliding over your folds and stealing your breath again.
“I want to kiss you,” he says, his own breathing affected by your reaction. He’s bolder in bed than you expected him to be, more direct, but really you should have seen it coming. Spence is relentless when he’s working a case. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. Please.”
He doesn’t go where you expect him to, his mouth finding the tender bit of skin below your ear.
“Is this nice?” he asks, kissing slowly downward. You trail your hands up his back and rock into his fingers, only just starting to get into it when he moves down to your breast. “How about this?”
You suppress a horrifically needy sound, and for a minute it seems like Spencer takes the hint. He mouths up the side of your breast, teeth scraping lightly as he gets closer to the pert bud of your nipple.
“Yeah?”
He strokes a lithe hand up your side, thumb soothing over the opposite side of your tit. His fingers part your folds, moving towards your clit, and you’re burning up, incinerating from the inside out. You wind your fingers in Spencer’s hair just before the hand at your breast leaves. It takes both of your hands by the wrists, guiding them above your head.
Spencer smooths his thumb over your pulse, not pinning you (he’d never deny you anything you want, not really), not so much a restraint as a reminder. You have an agreement.
“Yeah,” you say weakly. “Yeah, there is good.”
“Thank you,” he says, and if you couldn’t tell he means it by his tone, Spencer gives you extra encouragement by pushing two gentle fingers into your hole. Your lips part in a soundless gasp as he covers them with his.
“You know, when you like something, your body responds.” He brings his other hand back to your breast, cupping experimentally. His index finger grazes your nipple so lightly you could have mistaken it for a breeze. “But it would make things even easier if you told me yourself. You can do that, can’t you?”
“I can.” Your brain goes all staticy as Spencer’s thumb finds your clit, searching for purchase in the wetness he’s been tormenting out of you for god knows how long now. “I can, please, I can.”
“You don’t need to say please, it’s okay. You can just tell me what you want.”
The problem is, you have no notes, truly. Spencer’s fingers are working in and out of you at the perfect pace, deliciously long and brain-fuzzingly dextrous. His thumb skates crude figure-eights over the bead of your clit until you’re trembling, your hands balled up tight in the bedsheets.
Middle and marriage sponge over something sweet inside you, and you clench around him, swallowing a moan.
Spencer makes a quiet, satisfied sound. “Here?”
His fingers press into the spot again, and you gasp, arching off the bed. They go still.
“Yesyesyes,” you say, words all jumbling together in your desperation. “There. There.”
“Here,” he checks, just to be sure, as his fingers move over the spot again.
“Yes.” Tears sting your eyes. “Yes, there. Spence—”
Spencer waits a few beats. When you don’t seem likely to continue, he prompts gently, “Are you going to cum? You should say so, if you are.”
He’s doubtless seen the quivering that’s taken your thighs, but you nod anyway, panting out another fraught, “Yes.”
“Okay.” He kisses the corner of your lips sweetly as he picks up his pace. “Thank you for telling me.”
You moan without quieting yourself when his grip tightens on your breast. Spencer rewards you for it, kissing dedicatedly at your bottom lip while he kneads the fat, sending pleasure like waves of deep bass buzzing through you. His other thumb increases its pressure on your clit, the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you hardly audible over both of your breathing as he finds that spot again, and again, until you think you probably scream.
Spencer assures you later that you didn’t. That, actually, the sound you made seemed half choked back, and that’s another thing he’d like to work on next time. But for now, he’s happy enough to treat you to a myriad of kisses, soft, sweet presses of his mouth without want for anything more. He encourages you up to use the bathroom, and when you come back, lets you lay on top of him on a clean part of the bed, your cheek pressed to his chest.
“Okay,” you sigh, eyes closing as Spencer’s hand coasts down the bare skin of your back. “You wanna know what I want, for next time?”
“Of course I do,” he says genuinely.
“I want you to use your handcuffs.”
Spencer’s hand stills. You lift your head, and he looks curious. “I think we have time for that tonight, don’t you?”
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom
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PAY THE PRICE — 17. i DO have a girlfriend
(wc: 2.075 sozz yall)
they say fuck around and find out for a reason. haechan was never one to take the saying too serious, though he wishes he did. he’s sure he wouldn’t be in this predicament if he hadn’t taken those words so lightly.
he wasn’t sure whether to blame himself, or you at this moment.
“i know you’re there, haechan.” haechan threw his head back with a groan. gripping onto the door handle, he slowly opened it, letting a sliver of his body show through the crack.
“what do you want.” haechan asked, already growing impatient. if she had noticed the tone, she didn’t comment on it, instead greeting him with a warm smile. “it’s been a while.” she answered back.
“for a reason.” haechan answered back and the urge to close the door was starting to overtake him. alas, he still kept it slightly open, wanting to know why she had sought after him after a month of not talking.
“i missed you..” haechan couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped past his lips. he opened the door further, still not fully open, but enough for the rest of his body and face to show. “listen, cut this whole flattering stuff. why are you here, how did you even find my place?” haechan questioned.
her mouth opened and closed for a while, trying to come up with an answer. “well someone told me you lived here- that’s not even the point, i wanna talk to you. wanna talk about us.” she motioned her hand back and forth in the space between them and once again, it took everything in haechan to not throw the door close in her face.
“well i’m weirded out right now. and i don’t know what you mean with talking about ‘us’, because there is no us. we haven’t talked in a month, please move on.” haechan didn’t even attempt to sugarcoat his words, wanting her to understand the seriousness of the things he said and take the hint.
“can we just not try it again? i swear we got along so well, why don’t you want to try again? lets… just give me a chance.” the girl in front of him continued to plead. the sheer desperation laced in her words made haechan close his eyes for a moment, wondering how things even got this far.
it had been around 10 minutes since he opened his door, and he was surprised himself that he didn’t close it yet.
there is a reason why haechan doesn’t talk to the same girl for more than a week, and she was an example of why that was the case. he sighed. “i’m sorry, but i’ll pass.”
“that’s not a good reason!” she rebutted almost instantly and haechan took a step back from surprise. she followed his steps, stepping forward herself, almost entering his apartment. “woah now, step back, and what do the mean with that?” haechan hovered his hands over her shoulder, encouraging her to take steps back, which turned out to be ineffective as she didn’t budge one bit.
“at least give me a reason that has more meaning to it! you can’t just lead me on and expect me to be okay with you breaking what we had.” she whined, and haechan felt dumbfounded.
“woah now, i did not lead you on. if anything, it’s you who put your expectations too high. i’m pretty sure i had told you no several when you asked me to be your boyfriend like, three days into knowing each other.” haechan shot back with a frown, taking a step forward himself.
she took a step back with a small gulp following. haechan’s deep frown remained as he continued. “and if it makes you leave me alone, then i’ll have you know that i already have a girlfriend now. is that good enough of a reason?”
haechan was sure the comment would’ve been enough for her to turn around and walk off, he was even getting ready to shut the door close.
“i don’t believe you.” she simply responded and haechan’s jaw hung low as the words left her mouth. “i don’t believe you, you said yourself that you have a hard time with commitment before, so all of a sudden you just have a new girlfriend?”
haechan felt like a ticking time bomb that was ready to explode any second with the way his patience was running out. he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes again. “well, you better believe it.” haechan calmly answered back.
he opted to not comment on the mention of his lack of commitment as he found it rather.. ironic, that she was asking for the same thing she was ridiculing him for.
“okay, then who is it?” she questioned him with much doubt. haechan, realising that the conversation wasn’t ending any time soon, took a step out of his apartment before closing the door behind him. leaving the two of them in the hall.
just the two of them, until the door next to his opened and out of it came you. turning around, you stopped in your tracks once you took in the scene, surprise evident on your face as you looked back and forth between haechan and the girl you had seen on the ground floor.
haechan’s own eyes locked with you, an impulsive thought immediately taking over his mind. technically, you did owe him an apology for doxxing him. and he did promise to drag you into it. those were all the reasonings haechan needed before he pointed his thumb your way without hesitation.
“she is.”
haechan shuffled towards your side within seconds, slinging his arm around your shoulder before pressing you into his side. he knew not to look at you for the time being, he was sure if the two of you made eye contact, you’d ruin his cover up.
which to his dismay, you still did regardless. “what are you talking about- ow!” haechan gave you a little pinch on the side of your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly after before pulling you closer once a yelp came from you. “yeah, this is her. my girlfriend.”
the way you slowly turned your body to face him almost made haechan wince. he could only imagine the nasty glare you were sending him, or the look of confusion on your face- point is, he didn’t want to look at you.
the girl in front of haechan eyed both him and you who was tightly held into his side with an unconvinced look. “that’s literally the girl who gave me your address.” she scoffed in disbelief, and haechan panicked for a moment, he had totally forgotten about that.
“i think you got the wrong person, (—) has been in her room the whole time, right?”
this time, haechan mustered up the courage to turn your way. “right?” he pressed. the attention was back on you and you remained speechless. there was a hidden plea painted on haechan’s face, as if he was begging you to just play along. you turned your head back to look at the girl in front of you, her own face contorted into irritation.
you weren’t sure what you just got caught up in, but meekly nodded your head regardless.
“well, i still don’t believe it.”
haechan couldn’t even count how many exasperated groans he let out by now. “that’s your issue, just leave me alone from now on since i’m clearly in a committed relationship.” he retorted. unbeknownst to each other, the words leaving haechan’s mouth made both his and your guts churn.
it took a few more seconds, but with a single last scoff, she had turned around and marched off. it left you and haechan all by yourself. the silence that followed was painful and haechan tried everything in him to not move an inch, scared it would trigger you.
“you fucker!” you pushed him away, reaching up to rub the spot where he had previously pinched you. what did he think, of course you wouldn’t let him get away with this.
“listen..” haechan started. “no, what the fuck was that about that! why are you going around calling me your girlfriend to others?!” you freaked out. you reached over to haechan, trying to grasp his neck in hopes of inflicting pain but he beat you to it, taking ahold of your wrists and keeping them by his side in defence.
“i’m not going around saying it to others, it was just her.” haechan defended himself, his grip on your wrist still tight. you managed to wiggle out of it before giving him a push. “doesn’t matter, why are you using me.” haechan could sense the hostility from you and quickly reached for your wrists again, making sure no attempts at harming him would follow.
“i had no other choice, okay? she wouldn’t leave me alone and didn’t accept a normal rejection. just know that this was the only solution there was, and clearly it worked!” haechan protested. he could feel the way you clenched your fist in his hand. if that didn’t indicate how pissed you were, the way you gritted your teeth at him did.
“so you used me!” you yanked your wrists out of haechan’s hold, turning around to walk over to the wall next to your door and placing your head against it in dread. “i wouldn’t call it using you.. matter of fact i told you i would drag you into this, not so funny now huh?”
you didn’t even realise haechan had walked towards you until you turned around. “stop acting like its the end of the world, its not like we’ll have to pretend to be a couple.” haechan tried to reassure. “though, i don’t get what’s wrong about being known as my girlfriend, what’s so bad about dating me?” haechan asked, somewhat amused by your reaction.
the proximity between you two was surprisingly close and you wondered why he got so near. you backed yourself more into the wall to get more space. “i could give you a whole list.” your words didn’t come out as confident as you wanted them to and it caught both you and haechan off guard.
he chuckled, a hum following right after. “go ahead, i’m all ears.” he taunted, and your mind blanked for a moment. you swore you could come up with more reasons than you were able to list, but something about the way haechan was staring you down, eyes not flickering away even if yours did, broke the train of thoughts in your head.
“well.. you know, you’re haechan, that’s one. and.. you’re annoying too so that’s that:” this was stupidly embarrassing, and you knew haechan thought the same as a grin found its way to his face. “hm? is that all?” he provoked, and before you could react, both his hands latched onto your wrists and pulled you away from the wall, a lot closer to him.
“i’d almost think you wanted this, is that true (—)?” you’re sure your eyes had popped out of your sockets, and your heart rate spiked for a moment. even your hands were starting to feel clammy. “what are you talking about?” it seemed like none of your words were willingly to come out confidently like you wanted.
you’re glad that haechan bursted out laughing and let go off you, because you’re convinced that if you stayed in that position for a little longer, you would’ve considered his theory. “you should’ve seen your face just now! i didn’t even know people could be that shocked, kinda cute.” haechan laughed as he walked over to his apartment door.
you stood there frozen in your spot, trying to process what just happened. “oh, and (—).” he called out to you one last time, his back turned to you. “next time someone asks for me that isn’t renjun or yangyang, just say i’m not home.” there was a hint of teasing behind his words and you were convinced there was a motive behind them other than the clear instructions.
“you can do that for me, right babe?” of course, he just wanted to provoke you. haechan thought he was hilarious as he entered his apartment and closed the door, leaving you all alone. you groaned, doing the only thing you could come up with that felt equally provoking.
you kicked his door before going back into your apartment, the groceries you were planning on buying totally forgotten.
previous — master list — next
notes ; the guilt i feel whenever i make a written chapter because it defeats the purpose of an smau ughhh anyways it’s gonna get fun from here i think and hopefully more smau-ish
TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @aggtslva @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo
#haechan smau#nct smau#nct dream smau#nct 127 smau#haechan imagines#nct imagines#nct 127 imagines#nct dream imagines#haechan x reader#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct dream x reader#haechan texts#nct texts#nct dream texts#haechan fluff#nct fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct dream social media au#haechan social media au#nct social media au#haechan scenarios#nct scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#nct dream scenarios#haechan x you#nct x you#nct dream x you
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call me or not, it's up to you pt 2 | haitani ran
☰ — synopsis : you finally called ran back after a disagreement with your boyfriend.
☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader
☰ — length : 5.8k words
☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence, protected sex, protective ran
☰ — notes : this has been in the drafts for WEEEKS but i had to post for my mans birthday, couldn't miss it
On the way home, Ran’s peaceful drive was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Initially he would’ve ignored it, but one glance to where his phone was sitting in the cup holder, he almost lost control of the wheel seeing your name. The streets were fairly empty at this time of night, so nobody was disrupted when he pulled over abruptly, clearing his throat before answering.
“Hello?”
Soft sniffles filled the car from where his phone was connected to his speakers, and his concern grew significantly. “Ran?”
“Why are you crying?” he asked, fingers tightening against the wheel as he waited for you to continue.
You paused briefly, exhaling exhaustedly. “A—are you busy right now?”
“No.” He started driving again, slowly. “But why are you crying?”
“I need you to pick me up. If that’s not too much stress for you. I, um, I really need help.”
“Sure, I mean. Send me your location.” You murmured a soft agreement and he heard your fingernails tapping against the screen, a notification message sliding down his screen seconds later. “Why do you need help? Talk to me.” Ran leaned forward to connect his GPS to your location.
“It’s a long story,” you sighed. He could hear your teeth clattering together as you shivered. It was incredibly dark outside right now, the skies pitch black, streets tinted orange from the streetlights, and the heavy rainfall that’d been plaguing the city for the last few hours.
“We have time,” Ran responded simply. He could practically feel you hesitating. “(Name) I need the full story here. Talk to me while I come get you.”
You pressed your lips together tightly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Your shirt was soaked through at this point, your jeans soggy and the lack of a coat made you certain you’d catch hypothermia later.
“I—uh. Basically I got into an argument with um, Masato. You know him? He’s the um, dude from my story. A month ago?”
“I’m aware,” Ran responded dryly.
You swallowed thickly. “Yeah well. He was driving me home and we got into an argument because I didn’t like how he was flirting with one of the waitresses at the restaurant. And then he wanted to check my phone. I said no of course, but not because I was cheating or anything. I just didn’t like how he kept deflecting whenever his issues was brought up. But anyway, the argument escalated and he basically kicked me out the car and left me stranded god knows where. All the buses stopped running an hour ago, and the nearest train station is a 45 minute walk away. I have no money so I can’t call a cab. My wallet is in his car…and everything is just such a mess. I don’t have a jacket, I’m cold and I just don’t know what to do.”
By the time you finished your voice was tiny, and the sniffles came back as you fought from crying. Ran could practically picture your face right now, all teary eyed and sad and his grip on the wheel tightened immensely.
“I’m about fifteen minutes away, baby. Okay? Is there anywhere warm you can get to?”
You looked at your surroundings. A lone empty highway, with a diner in the distance, the words “OPEN 24/7” flashing in neon lights. “Yeah. There’s a diner around here.”
Ran looked at the map on his phone and confirmed the location of the diner with you. You nodded and he told you to get there quickly and he’d order you something once he got there. You thanked him and hung up, slowly making your way inside. You felt like a crazy person when you walked in, clothes soaked and wetting their floors as you made your way to sit down by the heater. A few concerned employees and customers glanced at you, but you ignored them in favour of wrapping your arms around yourself, a pitiful attempt of creating warmth.
Ran’s speeding managed to cut the fifteen minute drive into eight, and you were too busy staring at the table, tracing the wooden pattern with your eyes to see him pull into the parking lot. It wasn’t until the bell rang as he walked did you finally look up and meet his gaze.
He rushed over to you and you stood up quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He dropped his head to rest on top of yours and he could feel you shaking against him.
“You alright?” he asked and you nodded, not removing your head from his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling you clutch onto the front of his shirt.
“Um excuse me?” The two of you broke apart, staring at the waitress that stood a few feet away from you both, a notepad in her hand. “Are you two ordering anything?”
“You hungry?” Ran asked, looking down at you. You shook your head. “Thirsty?” You thought for a minute before nodding. “Hot chocolate for the lady please. Put marshmallows, whipped cream, whatever’s available in there.” He handed her his credit card and turned his attention back to you. “Look at me.”
You tilted your head up to look at him and he reached a tentative hand out to your cheek, cupping it. Your face was wet, from tears or the rain he didn’t know, frankly he didn’t care. His thumbs wiped some of the water away from your cheek, tracing over your features softly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wiping at your own face.
“For what?”
“For calling you like this. I didn’t want you to see me like this again. This is so embarrassing.”
Ran dropped his hand down to your arm, soothing the goosebumps erupted on your skin. “Take this.” He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and you held your arms out as he helped you fit in through it.
“I look ridiculous,” you said with a teary laugh.
“You look cute.” He pinched your cheek and you pushed his hands away, a small smile on your face despite it all. The waitress came with your drink and the two of you sat down. He watched you take small sips of your drink, avoiding his intense eye contact.
After you finished your drink, he reached forward and wiped some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth. His thumb traced down to your chin, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.
“Thank you for the drink.” You pushed the mug in the middle of the table, wrapping your arms back around yourself. “I’ll pay you back—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want you—”
“You just told me your wallet is gone. How are you going to pay me back?”
“...I’ll get it back—”
“Like hell you are,” he interrupted and you sat back, looking at him shocked. “You’re never seeing that man again. I’ll make sure of that.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unbelievable. I didn’t call you so you can control every aspect of my life again Ran.”
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Why did you call me then? Last I recall, you have plenty of other friends that have cars.”
“T—that doesn’t matter why I called you, Ran,” you spluttered, not sounding the least bit convincing. His eyebrows rose and so did your temper. “I’m serious. I called you because you were the first person I thought of. You’re thinking too much about it.”
“Sure. If that’s what you believe,” he said, tone dripping with condescension that made you roll your eyes. Times like this is when you realised that missing Ran is completely different than actually being around him. He was insufferable and you remembered exactly why you had to break things off.
Ran stood from the table, dusting his clothes. “I’ll take you home. Come on.” He held his hand out.
Reluctantly you stood, grabbing your phone and storming past him, ignoring his hand. He simply smirked and followed after you. You waited outside his car, standing by the backseat with your arms crossed, his jacket over your head acting as an umbrella.
He unlocked his car and you slipped into the back.
“You can sit up front,” he suggested, shrugging when you stubbornly shook your head, staring resolutely out the window. He rolled his eyes, a light smirk still on his face. He drove at a slower speed than he usually would when he saw you starting to doze off against the seats, driving around in circles just to give you enough time to rest. You woke up an hour later, rubbing your eyes and blinking to adjust to the bright lights.
Looking around you realised you were parked in a familiar looking garage, the car empty. You slipped out of the car and into the house, walking through until you entered the living room. Ran was seated on the couch, watching tv and texting on his phone.
“Uh, Ran?” You approached the couch and he casted a glance in your direction. “Why am I here?”
“You really thought I’d take you home after that story you just told me on the phone?” His nose scrunched as he flipped through the channels. “I’m not stupid.”
“Okay, Masato isn’t like a serial killer or something. Relax. I’m safe at home.”
“Any right minded man that would leave a girl stranded on the streets in the freezing cold is definitely a cause for concern alright. You’re not going back there till I take care of things.”
“Oh. And by “take care” you mean getting your men to kill him? That’s it?” He stayed silent and you groaned. “I can’t do this. I’m tired, Ran. You know I hate violence. I don’t want the man dead either—”
“Well I do.”
“Good thing it’s not your call then,” you shot back, frowning. “This is my life not yours. You don’t get to decide who gets to stay in it or not.”
He tilted his head back and looked behind at you, the smile on his face turning into more of a smirk. “Do I get to stay or na?” You rolled your eyes and he reached behind him, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to the couch. “Well?”
You shrugged, looking down at him. “I dunno.”
Shrugging his jacket off your shoulders, you folded it neatly and slung it on the back of the couch. “It’s complicated Ran,” you said, placing both hands on either side of his head, on the back of the couch.
“Doesn’t have to be.” He grabbed one of your hands, caressing your knuckles.
You found yourself hard pressed to look into those violet eyes of his staring intently back into yours. “Ran…it’s not that simple.”
“It can be. You just don’t like simple.”
You forcefully removed your hand from his. “Excuse me?”
“You always feel like shit has to be complicated in order for it to work. I noticed that you know?” You scoffed, and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t act dumb. We dated for seven years, I think you’d know a person after that long.”
“Crazy because if I were to sit here and say false things about you, then you’d just deny them because I don’t know better than you. Isn’t that right?”
“Nothing about what you say about me is false. You know this,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. He reached in his pocket, putting a cigarette into his mouth.
“So if I called you cold and manipulative, would you say I’m correct?”
He lit his cigarette and tossed his head back to look at you, exhaling smoke from his mouth. “You wouldn’t be wrong, no. But you’re only focusing on the negatives.” He reached his hand out again and you hesitated for a split second before grabbing his hand, allowing him to pull you back closer.
“I can’t think of any positives.”
He rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and patted the spot on the couch next to him. You walked around the couch, sitting beside him, cringing at the feeling of your wet clothes on his leather couch.
He put the cigarette back in his mouth and examined you. “You’re still cold.”
“I’m fine.”
He wrinkled his nose, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “Go shower. Wear some of my clothes.”
“Are you sure?”
He waved in the general direction of his bathroom and you thanked him. You returned back to the living room half an hour later, wearing one of his shirts that were too big for your body. Flopping back on the couch beside him, he offered you a cigarette to which you shook your head.
“Anyway back to me,” Ran said. You rolled your eyes. “You really can’t think of any positives to describe me? Come on, think deep.”
“This is starting to sound like couples therapy,” you stated dryly, He didn’t respond, just continued staring at you. “I dunno,” you said, picking at the skin on your lips. “Like, you’re funny I guess? You’re sweet, and caring in your own twisted fucked up way. You’re protective in a way that is a perfect mix of just good and overbearing. You’re fucking annoying sometimes too and—”
“Woah woah woah. Going off topic, a little bit?”
You smiled, a genuine laugh leaving your lips and Ran’s heart fluttered at the sight. He slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer. You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes when he kissed your forehead.
“I missed you a lot, you know?” You hummed in response, snuggling up beside him. When Ran had came back home and let you sleep in his car, he turned the heating on in every room in the house for you. The fact you still snuggled close to him for warmth made him smile a little bit. “Didja get my voicemail all those weeks ago?”
“Yeah.” You shifted to look up at him. “Gave me a bit of an ego boost not gonna lie,” you admitted.
He looked down at you. “Why’d you take so long to call me then?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and level, to not show any betrayal of emotion. You didn’t respond and looked at the tv, distracted by your thoughts. He jostled you lightly. “Hm?”
“I don’t know,” you finally said after a few seconds. You looked back up at him. “I was petty and hurt still and part of me wanted to make you jealous.” You laughed lightly. “Was pretty shitty of me. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. But I’m sorry, Ran.”
Ran hummed, the sound vibrating from his chest into yours. He looked away from you, staring at the television with an unreadable expression.There were many times you couldn’t understand what he was thinking. Ran was a man with an unbreakable exterior, and you could only think of one time in your eight year long relationship when you actually managed to crack through that hard shell of his.
When you found out Izana had died and Ran had gotten himself and his friends arrested. He was released a couple hours later and you came to pick him up from the station. It was hard seeing him more quiet than usual. He barely said a single word to you when you took him home and spent the night with him. That night was when you finally saw Ran cry for the first time and it was overwhelming for you. He wasn’t balling with tears, just a few drops and you wiped each tear drop away with your thumb. That night was so memorable for you and it stayed in your mind all those years later.
Right now he had that same unreadable, blank expression on his face as he stared at the television, his fingers softly grazing the unshaven stubble on his jaw. You looked up at him, chin on his shoulder and waited for him to finish his thoughts.
“What’s his full name?” he asked after a long moment of silence.
You swallowed. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Just curious.” You were looking at him weirdly, eyes roaming over his face as you tried to uncover any hidden agendas he might have. It still pissed you off how irritatingly good his poker face was.
Squinting at him, you slowly pulled back to sit close beside him, fiddling with the loose string on the sleeve on your shirt. “Promise you won’t…hurt him?”
“I won’t… not kill him,” he said with a smile that grew when you looked up at him exasperated. “I just wanna ask him some questions, s’all.”
You nervously chewed your bottom lip raw by the time you decided. You sighed. “It’s Masato Hirakawa. He’s my accountant,” you told him and Ran shifted on his side to look at you better. “He asked me out one evening and I said yes. We didn’t make things official until like two weeks ago and then that’s when things started going downhill.”
“Whaddya mean?”
You scrunched your nose. “We got drunk at a club last week and Yuzuha drunkenly mentioned the voicemail you left me and I just laughed it off but Masato looked confused and asked what we were talking about. I told him not to worry about it and he got upset, thinking I was hiding shit from him which made no sense because you left that voicemail before we were even official so I wasn’t cheating. But he didn’t care. He then went down a rabbit hole once he figured out your name and started like internet stalking you. He was googling everything he could find about you, was stalking your Instagram, seeing your lifestyle and he took whatever he was feeling out on me.”
Ran’s eyebrows slowly rose as he considered what you just said.
“Not physically,” you quickly added upon seeing his reaction. “No I mean he would get mad and yell at me, then one night he accused me of being a gold digger and using him for his money and I reminded him just because he’s an accountant that he’s not some millionaire and he needs to calm down. He started ranting and raving about you at any given time and it just got annoying. Every time I was on my phone he thought I was having an affair with you even though we haven’t been in contact in a literal year.” You laughed dryly.
“It was so stupid. And for what? It was only a week and it made me feel like I was just so…” you paused, trying to figure out the right words. “I don’t know. I just hated it so much. Then today with the car I slept in the car and he took my phone and listened to the voicemail you left and then was convinced that I was sleeping with you while seeing him and he woke me up by yelling at me and stuff. Then kicked me out.”
“Is that why you called me?”
You nodded, fingers trembling as you played with the string. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. You were just the first person I could think of helping me in that moment. I didn’t—”
“Stop stressing.” He grabbed your wrist and you let go of the string as he guided your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You calling me back was the best thing you could’ve done.” You smiled wryly, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before looking away. “Come here.”
Slipping into his lap, he cradled you against him. “You mad at him?” he asked and you nodded. “Let me take care of this? Please?”
“I don’t know…”
“I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re so scared about. Just wanna spook him a little,” he said, making you giggle.
You looked up at him and nodded. “Just a spook. Promise?” His eyes dropped down to your lips and your face heated up when you realised where his gaze was trained.
He leaned down and kissed you softly, his hand rising to your cheek., looking searchingly in your eyes for the longest two seconds of your life. “I promise,” he whispered against your lips before pulling you in for another kiss.
Twisting your body, you turned to loop your arms around his neck, his hand sliding over your knee to pull you over, straddling his lap. His hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing up and down your back. He pulled away, smirking. “No bra?”
“It was wet from the rain,” you mumbled, kissing him again. He groaned into your mouth, all decorum gone as moved his hands to your chest, cupping your breasts, your nipples already hard and poking his palms.
“Mmm take this off,” he said, tugging at your shirt.
You shut him up, kissing him again as your hands flew to his shoulders, your whole body warming at the feel of solid muscle, still prominent even through his shirt, underneath your palms. “Take yours off shirt,” you replied, biting his bottom lip with a smile.
He rolled his eyes. “Unbutton me then.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, his smile growing as you got to work, unbuttoning them one by one, your skin growing hot at black ink peeking through. He shrugged his shirt off and your hands flew right back to his shoulders, running them down his chest and letting your fingers trace along his abs.
He sat up and kissed under your jaw. “Now your turn.” You cupped his face as he sucked, your fingers moving to his hair, tugging when his tongue licked and sucked harder.
You pushed him back and he watched you lift your shirt up and over, stretching in the process and tossing it to the other end of the couch. He licked his lips as his hands flew to your hips, fingers dipping shallowly against the band of your panties, snapping them back against your skin. You kissed him sloppily again.
His hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you as you squealed, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. Depositing you on his bed, he wasted no time climbing on top of you, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he kissed down your body.
He latched onto a nipple, his tongue snaking around it as he licked and sucked. The warmth of his mouth and his hands tweaking your other nipple were making you dizzy, biting your bottom lip hard as you began to get restless. He kissed down your stomach, his hands pushing your legs apart.
“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” he breathed, eyeing the wet patch in your panties. He peeled them away and ran his finger through your folds, smirking at the hitch in your breath. “All we did was kiss.”
“S—shut up,” you hissed, irritation turning to pleasure when he swirled his finger around your entrance, and he had to bite his lips to keep from groaning when your hips started stuttering, a silent plea for him to go further. He slowly sunk his finger in and you gasped, back arching against the bed. He pulled out before sinking fully in, teasing you with only the tip of his finger.
You irritatingly looked at him. “Stop being a fucking tease,” you complained, trying to shimmy your body further down the bed, needing more of him. Ran grabbed at your hip, stilling you and you whined loudly.
“Easy.” His voice was light and playful and that only angered you even more. Idly pumping his finger in and out of you, he added another and you writhed, restlessly moving to fight back the heat forming in your abdomen. His fingers curled against that spot that had you melting against the sheets. When you were least expecting it, your eyes closed and head thrown back, he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around your clit, and sucked.
You moaned loudly as his tongue began working at your cunt, licking sloppily like a man starved. Slipping his fingers out, he parted your folds with two fingers, eyes trained on the way your pussy was gleaming with a mixture of your slick and his saliva.
“Fuck,” he breathed. He looked up at your body, over the curve of your breasts. “Sit up for me. Wanna see that pretty face.”
“Nn-nn,” you said, shaking your head, writhing against the sheets as he buried his face back into your pussy, sucking obligingly at your clit. His tongue was making you feel everything at once, his fingers sliding back into your pussy making your hips stutter, your body was heating up, and you could feel the incoming pressure of an all familiar orgasm building until it stopped.
Ran simply stopped his ministrations and stilled his fingers in you, the thickness of his two fingers sitting in your pussy has you gushing a little more around them, and your clit felt cold without his mouth.
You sat up and stared confusingly at him. “Why’d you stop?”
He presses a longing kiss to your inner thighs. “You didn’t wanna cooperate with me. So why should I give you what you want?” You groaned loudly as he smiled, lips curving against your skin. He continued to lather kisses to your thighs, coming dangerously close to your pussy and just when you’d get your hopes up, he’d move back to your thighs.
“Ran, please.” You moved your hand to his hair, trying to tug him away from the marks he was leaving against your thigh but he was nothing but stubborn. “Rannnnnnnn,” you groaned.
“You know what I was want,” he stated simply, and your face scrunched imperceptibly. “You’re so cute when you do that.”
“Ran I’m serious. Eat me out or I’m leaving.”
He arched an eyebrow at you. “So bossy.” He looked up at you and you were still partially glaring at him. He smiled. “Keep looking at me just like that.” His head lowered, ignored hearing you call him a masochist under your breath and smirked at the sound of your breathing hitching, effectively shutting you up as he licked a stripe up your slit.
The eye contact was overwhelming and hard to maintain, especially when he slipped two fingers back inside you without warning. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and effectively failed, shutting them as his lips sealed around your throbbing clit. The pressure was re-building and your hands flew to his hair, gripping tight and tugging as you chanted his name over and over again as you came.
Ran sat up, swiping a hand over his mouth as he rearranged you on the bed, wasting no time and letting you catch a breath before he pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, sloppily reaching for a condom in his bedside table with the other.
He grabbed a condom and you watched as he rolled it on in record time, his eagerness rolling off him in waves as his hands darted straight to your hips, lifting them up at an angle, fingers digging into your skin as he slid his cock in slowly. His mouth fell open at the tight warmth stretch of your pussy, a low groan escaping him.
You raised your arms up and he let go of your hips, leaning down to let you accommodate him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your legs locked around his waist. He slid his arms under your back and held you back just as tightly, his hips pressing flush against yours.
You almost whined at the feeling of being so full, the thickness of his cock nestled between your walls dizzying. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in, his pace speeding up as you started to let your moans out. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling that sweet perfume you always love to overspray on yourself, taking in the heat of your naked body below him, and began littering your neck with kisses, sucking hard at your skin till it bruised.
Your hands flew to his neck, taking your nails up and down and dragging red long streaks onto his skin. He pushed himself up, hands on either side of your head and began snapping his hips until you got louder. The bed was squeaking, your voice was getting higher, and the wet sounds of your pussy reached your eyes making you feel hot.
“I’m close,” you whimpered, gripping onto his arms, and he grunted at the bite of your nails digging into his muscle.
“Me too baby.” He pressed down on your stomach with a firm hand, hips slowing down to slow but deep thrusts. You could feel his cock stretching you out as he hit deeper, his hand applying more and more pressure until it was unbearable. You came with another loud cry, his hips stuttering against yours before he cusses and pulls out abruptly, your body cold and empty and you push yourself weakly onto your elbows to watch as he sprays his cum on your inner thighs, painting them white. He tapped his cock against your pussy, sliding it up and down your wet folds before exhaling deeply.
He sat back onto his knees and examined your spent body, how your eyes were unable to stay open for more than three seconds without slowly closing shut.
He moved to lay beside you, gathering you in his chest.
“Wait. I need to clean up,” you muttered, trying to keep your legs open to chase away the feeling of wet cum in your inner thighs.
“Who cares,” he grumbled, hand sliding down your leg to throw it over his hip. “Sleep with me. It’s almost 3 am.” He fell asleep not even a second after finishing his sentence and you rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your face.
Ran was nothing but a deep sleeper, and you took advantage of that to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheeks, playing with his nose as he slept soundly in front of you. It took an hour for you to fall back asleep and you woke a few hours later.
Rolling onto your side, you slapped around for his laptop on the bedside table and opened it,wincing at the bright screen. Through the blindness you were able to make out the time as 8am. Carefully you slipped out of bed and took a brief shower before heading to his kitchen.
Ran was able to sleep through mainly anything, even his alarms, but the sounds of you clattering around his kitchen effectively did succeeded in waking him up. He snorted once he checked the time, mumbling “this girl,” under his breath and slipped out of bed to take a shower and brush his teeth. Whatever you were cooking ended up taking nearly a whole hour and you re-entered the bedroom with a tray full of food, Ran had been reduced to idly scrolling on his phone, scratching his stomach.
“Good morning,” you chirped, climbing onto the bed and placing the food on his lap.
“Morning baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you smiled at him. “What’s all this?”
“I felt bad about um, getting you to pick me up yesterday so I wanted to uh, treat you I guess.” You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and looked up at him. “I barely cook so you better finish every single thing on that plate.”
He snorted and pulled you in for a kiss. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“No thank you. Seriously. I really owe you one Ran.” You smiled shyly at him before clearing your throat. “Now shut up and eat.”
He rolled his eyes when you grabbed the fork, forcefully stabbed the eggs and held it up to his mouth. “Say aaah.”
He stared blankly at you until you glared at him. He sighed and opened his mouth, the smile coming back in your face in full force as you fed the fork into his mouth. He chewed and you were already restabbing the fork on the plate to pick up some waffles when he stopped you.
“I can feed myse—“
You shoved more food into his mouth. “Is it good?” You asked, trying not to laugh as you saw him struggling to chew with his mouth full. He nodded once he swallowed, kissing your forehead again and gathering you back into his chest.
“It tastes amazing. My baby so talented. Come here.” He brought you back in for another longing kiss, his hand cupping the back of your head. You pulled away and removed your head back to his shoulder, tracing your fingers across his chest as he ate. He pushed the plate to the side once he finished and turned to face you. “What’re you doing today?”
You hummed and spread your hands flat against his stomach, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. “Me and Yuzuha are going to Masato’s to pressure him into giving me my shit. If he doesn’t then I’ll call the police.”
He wrinkled his nose at the idea and you went back to dragging your finger across his skin, tracing his bellybutton.
“I don’t want you going over there.”
“Relax. Hakkai and Mitsuya are going to be there too incase he wants to try something.” He wrinkled his nose again and you turned to look up at him. “Okay don’t be like that. They’re strong!”
“All it took for me was a brick and he was out.” Ran laughed when you rolled your eyes.
“You’re not immortal, you know. Smashing anyone over the head with a brick would knock them out!”
“All I hear is excuses. Besides I thought you said you’d let me handle it, hm?” He jostled you playfully and you shook your head.
“I was thinking about it and I really do not want you and your goonies to torture the dude until he’s on the verge of death. I hate him but I don’t want to hurt him either.”
“You’re too nice for your own good you know? People will take advantage of that,” he stated calmly and you sighed, settling back beside him.
“…I know.”
“So let me handle it,” he proposed. You weren’t looking at him so he tilted your face back to his, forehead pressing against yours. “Let me take care of it. And you.” He laced your fingers together as you stared him deeply in the eyes, letting him attempt to persuade you.
After a few moments you bit down on your lip and sighed. “Okay. Take care of it but I don’t wanna hear what you do or say to him. Alright?”
His grin turned wolffish and he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “You don’t gotta worry about a thing. Just get some sleep,” he said as he gently laid you back down on the bed and tucked you back in, “and let handle everything for you.”
#—tr </3#ran x reader#haitani ran x reader#ran haitani x reader#tokyorev x reader#tokrev x reader#tokrev#haitani ran smut#ran smut#ran haitani smut#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokrev smut
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It’s A Craving
Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader
A visceral in doses fic
Warnings: smut (some daddy kink bc I couldn’t help myself) and alcohol consumption, mentions throwing up
Takes places May 2024
“Look at you, pretty girl,” Mat says, coming up behind you and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
You squeal in delight, body warming up by Mat’s body heat seeping through the material of your silk robe. His thick arm wraps around your waist, and his hand spreads out over the length of your abdomen which further makes you heat up.
“I’m not even dressed yet,” you sigh and melt into his sturdy chest.
Today is Mat’s birthday and tonight you’re attending a joint birthday party for him and yourself as your birthday just passed. You were in the middle of getting ready when Mat invaded your space, so now only your hair and makeup are done while your almost naked body is being caressed by your man. Not that you mind anyways.
“Even better,” he whispers hotly in your ear. The lingering scent of his previous glass of whiskey sends a chill down your spine and makes your toes curl. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoying tasting it on his tongue. You tilt your head back and grasp his chin, so you can slot your lips between his. His grip on you tightens as he slips his tongue into your mouth.
You suck and hum around his tongue, enjoying the whiskey on your tastebuds. You press your ass into his groin, smirking against his lips when a moan is shared between your mouths.
“I’m so wet right now,” you whimper as you guide his hand underneath your robe and to your hot and wanting core.
Mat’s chest thunders against your back and you can feel his cock start to harden. His hand is still firmly attached to your body, but all too soon a finger finds its way between your folds. He collects every drop of your arousal and works it up to your clit, slowly massaging circles into your bud.
“Fuck. Is all this for me?” He asks, voice husky and so sexy. You want to respond, but he pumps a finger into you which makes all rational thought cease to exist. Any thought that’s to be voiced simply disappears into oblivion.
Throwing an arm behind you, you grip the curls at the nape of his neck. You need to anchor yourself down before you dissipate with the rest of your thoughts.
“I can feel your little pussy squeezing my fingers, baby. I can feel your wetness dripping down my hand,” your boyfriend groans and continues to fuck his fingers into your g spot.
“Oh my god. I’m going to cum,” you choke out. Your body vibrates as your orgasm lingers, waiting to rock through your body.
“Sorry, you’re going to have to wait,” Mat huffs out. You hear the clink of his belt buckle coming undone, which you guess he was doing with one hand. And now that you think about it, you wish you could’ve seen him pull down his black pants with one hand. You’re sure it was a hot sight.
Mat ripping off his clothes in a wanton haze keeps you momentarily distracted from the fact that he just slipped his fingers out of you.
“What?” You mutter once your fogged up head clears up, but quickly grow silent when Mat drags you to the nearest flat surface that just so happens to be a window.
He presses your hips into the cool glass and works the rest of his pants down so that they pool at his ankles. He moves closer to you, loops his arms through your legs and hauls you up. His arms are under your thighs and you reach for his length to slip him in. A gasp falls from both of your mouths simultaneously as you both adjust to each other. Mat has to focus on not coming too soon from how tight you are, and you have to adjust to the yummy stretch.
Mat’s hands find your hips and slowly work you up and down on his cock. His mushroomed tip massages your fluttering walls, dragging out the beginning stages of your pleasure- building that fire deep inside of you.
“Just like that,” you moan, your hands grappling at the hockey player’s muscles. You attempt to wrap your legs around his waist, but you can’t with how firmly he holds you.
“You like that, baby?” He groans, snapping his hips so the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts of you. You shiver when he fully sheaths himself inside of you, but you still welcome the feeling of being full.
His voice drips in honey and his hazel eyes have turned into the richest coffee. He’s never been one to be able to easily hide his arousal. Whenever he’s in the mood, you can tell the second he enters a room.
“You feel so good,” you hum and pull your body closer to him. Your breasts press into his chest and your nipples harden under the heat of his skin.
You wrap your arms around his neck and continue to move your hips up and down. Your blood is pounding in your ears, but it’s mostly covered by the sounds of Mat’s balls slapping against your ass. Eventually your pace falls apart, but your boyfriend’s strength keeps you moving as your orgasm slowly comes forward. Your body is already starting to shake and you can feel your walls clench around him. It doesn’t take long for the knot to form in your stomach and for your vision to start to blur.
“I can feel your tight pussy squeezing me. You like my cock, baby? You like the way I’m making you feel?”
You try not to let his words bleed into your system, because if you do, you’ll have no control over your impending orgasm. You want to at least feel the fire rush through your veins rather than blacking out from the pleasure.
“Yes,” you nearly shout.
You bounce harder and faster on his length, your arousal dripping down his shaft as you grip him tightly. Mat closes his eyes in bliss and lets his head fall back. You grip his chin and make sure his eyes are locked on yours. There’s nothing you enjoy more than him watching you take his cock. You demand his full attention always. His lips part, his eyes glaze over, and a furious flush rises from his chest up to his neck. You can’t help but attach your lips to his pulse point, sucking along to the beat of his heart.
“Come inside of me, daddy,” you whisper in his ear and nip at his earlobe.
Feeling his mind burst into flames, he slams you into the window. His hands brace himself on the cool glass as he bucks his cock harder into your dripping pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist and drop your hips to match his thrusts. Your fingers dig into his hair, wrapping around the strands and tugging.
“Say it again,” Mat demands, a hand wrapping around the back of your neck so he can crash his lips into yours.
“You feel so fucking good, daddy. I want you to cum in me,” you whimper into the kiss, your mouth falling from his as you take your lip between your teeth.
The pleasure burns in your belly and makes you writhe against his body. The air around you runs thick and both of your breaths mingle together.
“Fuck,” he groans as he empties himself inside of you. Your hands wander down the thick muscles in his back, feeling the way they tense and relax with his body-tingling orgasm.
“Yes, just like that,” you say as he starts to rock into you again. Just because he came first, doesn’t mean he’ll leave you unsatisfied. He’ll always be focused on your pleasure no matter what.
“Cum for me, pretty girl. Make a mess on my cock.” He’s back to bouncing you on his shaft.
His brazen words, the squelching sound of wet skin hitting, and the way he pounds into you has you falling deep into the abyss. Every nerve ending of yours explodes with passion.
“I’m gonna cum,” you announce as everything around you starts to grow warm and fuzzy.
After a few more strokes, you’re crying around a moan and pressing yourself into his body. You tightly wrap your arms around his neck, so he can hold you while your release works its way from your head to your toes.
Mat works you through your orgasm, and your slick walls keep him inside of you with a vice grip. You try to focus on his lips kissing your skin and his whispers of affection along your skin, but all you can feel is his length keeping both of your releases lodged inside of you.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur while caressing his cheek. You gently place your forehead on his and hold each other while the thrum of your heartbeat knocks against his.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Mat gently sets you down on your feet, his hands holding your sides to keep you steady.
“I love you.” Your eyes hold onto his, an overjoyed smile taking over your features.
“I love you,” is stated into the skin of your collarbones. It makes you squeal and jump back into his arms. You’ll never get used to the swarms of butterflies that freely roam in your stomach whenever you’re with Mat.
-
The alcohol is flowing, the company is great, and the loud music does a great job at keeping you company while Mat obtains your next round of drinks.
The night has been so much fun and you’re glad that the party is still going even though it’s nearly 2 a.m. Although right now you’re in a secluded corner, you have no problem watching your friends have the time of their lives. The corners of your lips lift in a small smile at their inebriated states and their loud shouting along to the song playing. You may be quiet at the moment, but just earlier you were bumping and grinding with Mat on the dance floor. He had your hips in his hands while you both swayed to the beat of the music. His chest was plastered to your back and his lips never left your neck. You’re more than positive that there are some small hickeys painting your skin. Your skin burns in the memory of his touch and you can’t fight the smug smirk off your face.
“You’re so sexy. I swear I’m the luckiest man of earth,” you hear Mat’s voice cut through the music. His voice is heavy with need and his eyes are practically pleading.
You shoot him a grin and happily accept your vodka and red bull from his hand.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh and wrap an arm around his neck, unintentionally pushing your boobs in his face.
Your sweet boyfriend watches you with heart eyes as you flip your hair over your shoulder and your fingers fiddle with his shirt.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Mat asks after a sip of his beer. His eyes bore into yours and pour out every ounce of love that he has for you in his body. His only available hand falls to your waist and scoots you closer to him.
“You tell me all the time, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you respond with a hand on his chest, your finger poking through the opening in between the buttons and touching his bare skin. You bat your eyelashes at him and nibble on your lip, knowing it makes him weak in the knees.
“I love you so much, pretty girl. You’re it for me,” he whispers close to your ear, making chills roll out on your body.
“I love you more,” you say and seal it with a kiss.
“You’re the love of my life and that’ll never change,” you mutter into the kiss, pulling your mouth from his so you can rest your forehead on his.
You both take a moment to share each other’s air without having your lips locked. In this one moment the music lowers and everyone around you disappears into the darkness. The glowing strobe lights only shine on the both of you, allowing your love to radiate throughout the room.
“Baby,” Mat hums, his nose nudging at your throat.
“Yes.”
“I’m really horny,” he giggles, looking at you with his eyes crinkled and his signature toothy smile.
You let out a laugh and cup his cheeks, so you can stare at his happy state. The hockey season has been a rough one, so it’s nice to see him let loose.
“I can tell, hotshot,” you muse with a tilt of your head. His eyes are glossy, his hands won’t leave your body, and he can’t stop staring at your lips. Not to mention how clingy he is. Mat is extra clingy when he’s drinking and when he’s horny.
“You’re sexy,” he hums once again.
Before you can respond, his face falls into the valley of your boobs. His lips attack your skin and he nuzzles his face between your breasts. Every now and then his tongue will sneak out and he’ll suck on you until you let out a whimper.
“I think you should take me home,” you moan into his ear and suck his earlobe into your mouth.
“Yes ma’am,” he easily agrees with a smack to each of your ass cheeks.
-
The walk home was mostly uneventful. Mat was yapping about how good you look and you would stop him every few blocks to give him a very raunchy kiss.
When you did finally get home, Mat made you wait on his bed while he got himself situated in the restroom. Planning ahead, you decided to strip off every single item of clothing that had donned your body. You’re now spread out on his bed, the sheets twisting between your fingers.
“Okay! Okay, I’m ready!” Mat cheers as he jogs out of the restroom.
“Ready for what exactly?” You ask, your eyes peering at him curiously.
“A late birthday present,” he says as he turns on some music. Billie Eilish’s newest song “Lunch” filters through the silence.
You cock an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he starts to slowly unbutton his button up, his eyes glued on yours. With each button that comes undone, the more excited you get to see his chiseled chest and abs. When his shirt meets the floor he gives you a little wiggle of his hips. He tries to move in sync with the song, but he’s a little weighed down by the alcohol. You don’t care, though; you’re very much enjoying the show.
“You’re so sexy, Barzy,” you say with a sultry lilt to your voice.
You lift yourself up and crawl to the end of the bed where he’s located. When you rise to lean on your knees, Mat’s chest and neck grow vibrant red and his eyes flit back and forth between your face and bare boobs. His lips open and close and no words are able to form on his tongue. After a long pause he shakes his head and continues his little striptease.
As he’s pushing down his pants, he trips over them and lands on his ass with a thud. A startled gasp leaves your mouth and you have to try your hardest not to laugh at the hockey player. He’s on the floor with a pout and his puppy dog eyes.
“You’re naked,” he points out as he stares at the ceiling.
“You just noticed?” It comes out in a playful scoff.
“No, I just couldn’t form any words to express my satisfaction,” he mumbles and looks back at your naked form.
“Hmm okay.” You watch him clumsily get up and stumble as he kicks off his pants.
Once he’s just in his underwear, he takes a deep breath before exhaling. He has his hands on his hips and he looks like an exhausted father.
“Are you going to continue?” You question, sitting up on the mattress.
He gives you a sluggish head shake. Next thing you know he’s lazily throwing his body on top of yours. His head lands on your stomach and he tries to tangle his legs with yours.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Mat groans and tries to dig his face into your skin.
With a furrowed brow, you think about why he feels embarrassed.
“Why, baby?”
“I’m like, really drunk,” he explains and you massage his scalp and rub his back.
You’re still slightly confused, because it’s not like you’ve never seen him drunk before. You’ve seen Mat in almost every type of scenario, so you’re not sure where this embarrassment is stemming from. All you know is that he’s your baby and you’re going to take care of him.
“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”
“No. I’m hard, though,” he says and you laugh at his efforts to get laid. It’s not happening tonight, though.
“As much as I’d love to be dicked down, you’re too drunk right now. You’d never have sex with me like that and I’m not about to do it either, hotshot,” you whisper and kiss his head.
“Well, I guess there’s always tomorrow,” he says with a shrug.
“I guess so. I love you, Barzy.” You lie back and let him adjust himself so his head is on your chest.
He leans up and presses his lips to yours, staying there for a few minutes before he rests his head over your chest again.
“I love you.” His words are low and soft, and in the matter of seconds he’s asleep.
a/n: I honestly don’t know how to feel about this. It’s a bunch of little ideas I had put into one piece. It’s honestly self fulfilling, but I do wish it were better🥴 I hope you all enjoy!
#mat barzal#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#mat barzal fic#visceral in doses#nhl fic#nhl imagines#new york islanders
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I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (´-﹏-`；)
Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!
Mating press with Tommy <3
Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot
It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.
Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.
“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two.
“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.
You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.
His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.
He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.
Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips.
He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.
Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.
“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.
Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock.
His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.
Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself.
He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back.
You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.
feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3
#thomas hewitt x reader#slasher x reader#slashers x you#thomas hewitt smut#thomas hewitt x you#slasher fucker#slasher x you#slasher smut#thomas hewitt x y/n#tommy hewitt x reader#leatherface x reader#leatherface smut
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The Hand Thing (SMUT)
Eris x reader
Note: I feel like this is unnecessarily long but I will never pass up an opportunity to drool over Eris soooo that’s whats’s happening here. I’m also a huge slut for Mr. Darcy and the hand flex video came up on my TikTok so blame pride & prejudice for this one. This is part of the Corrupt story and I have linked Kisses and Romance Books :)
Warnings: mentions of oral sex, fingering
Eris’s hands are enchanting to watch. They’re strong and powerful, directing the Autumn army as their general and wielding the fire that runs fiercely through his veins.
They’re elegant in the way he writes, his calligraphy nothing less than perfect. Elegant in the way he ties and buttons his clothes.
But those slender, pale freckled fingers are most enchanting when they hold you. You feel so at peace in Eris’s embrace. His hands mold perfectly to the curves of your body, gripping your hips and the nape of your neck. They make you feel at home when he rubs circles on your back and threads his fingers through your hair. And when you're cold or in pain, Eris uses the fire in his veins to comfort you, heating his hands.
Now, sitting across from Eris at his grand oak desk, you watch as Eris flexes his fingers as he thinks. Balling his fist, resting his chin on the top of it as he lets out a sigh.
You just wanted to reach out and hold the tense limb. To press soft kisses across his knuckles. As you continue to think about your mates hands your thoughts divulge into dirty and depraved. Wanting more than him to hold you. Wanting…no.
You two haven’t done more than kissing and Eris eating you out. Your cheeks heat at the thought of your activities from a few days ago. While the feeling of his mouth against your pussy was euphoric, you couldn’t help but think about his hands squeezing at your things. The small bruises he left behind from how hard he dug the tips of his fingers into your flesh.
Letting out another aggravated sigh Eris leans against his high back chair. Not noticing that you’ve been staring intently at him for the last thirty minutes.
His hooded gaze traveled from the papers in front of him to your untouched book.
Those beautiful amber eyes landed on your face, noticing how your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth. Your own gaze focused on his large hands. “Something on your mind, little fox.” Eris teases. You let out a hum, snapping back to yourself. “Sorry my love, did you say something?”
Eris smirked at the airiness in your voice, flexing his hand, rubbing his jaw. You noticed the veins bulge a little on the back of his hand. Eris noticed what you were honed in on finally. His smirk grows at the realization.
His fingers curl, beckoning you to him. Plopping yourself in his lap you don’t hesitate to hold the hand that’s been your focus for the past hour. You lightly run your fingers across his palm and tracing up his fingers. Eris watches you with a love sick look plastered on his face.
He was already taken with you when you first met, but after becoming mates Eris knew he was done for. He couldn’t get enough of you. The male was truly in love with you.
“I want to know what they feel like.” You say, your voice just above a whisper. “What what feels like, my heart?” He asks softly. Meeting Eris’s russet gaze, your cheeks heat. Your lips part slightly as you try to get your words out. “Don’t be embarrassed heart, you can tell me anything. Promise.”
Inhaling deeply through your nose you let out a sigh. “I-I want your fingers, like in my romance novels. But like that thing you did with your mouth,” you rambled on, the signs of Eris’s arousal going over your head. The male could only stare at you wide eyed, lips slightly parted. The hand that rests on your hip tenses, grabbing your attention. “What?” You ask innocently.
Eris shook his head, still in disbelief. He was so proud of you for asking for something instead of waiting for him to show you. Slowly but surely he corrupting his sweet innocent mate. Making you needy for him and him alone.
“I’m happy. Happy that you trust me and want to explore these things with me.” You light up at his words, holding his hand to your chest. Batting your eyelashes at Eris you ask, “Can we now? I want Er, so bad.” You punctuated your words with a pout. Mother above, this is not going to make what Eris has to say next hard.
He folds your hands in his warm ones, bringing them to his lips, placing soft kisses across your knuckles. “Unfortunately we can’t right now, little fox.” You frown damn near broke his heart. “I have to finish work but tonight, I promise. Ok?” You nod and he pecks your lips as a thank you.
——
After dinner you wait for Eris in his bed chambers. You had brought extra clothes for tomorrow so you wouldn’t have to creep back to your rooms in the morning. Even though you were right next to him. Still, you didn’t want to be spotted in your nightgown by the maids.
You perched yourself on the middle of his large bed, picking at the soft cream comforter as you waited. The bond in your chest thrummed. Eris was close. As he got closer and closer you felt that wonderful warm sensation grow. The first door opened and you perked up with excitement.
As he opened the bedroom door you jumped off the bed, running and flinging yourself into his arms. Eris scooped you up effortlessly, hugging you to his chest as he walked back to the bed. Laying you down Eris propped himself on his elbows above you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. He feels your smile against his lips, using his tongue to prod your lips open.
Pulling away Eris presses kisses to your cheeks and nose. “You look exquisite little fox.” He murmurs, eyes drifting down your cleavage to the lace and silk clinging to your form. His fingers lightly tracing your thighs that are still sporting bruises, though faint, from the last time he was between your legs. “Are you ready?” Eris breathed out.
“Yes,” you practically whine. Smirking, Eris slowly moves down your body. Running his hands up and down your thighs, the tips of his fingers flirting with the hem of your nightgown. “Please.” You beg him.
Eris pushes the silk up past your belly button pressing more kisses against your hips. Closing your eyes at the sensation you miss his hand move to your clothed core. Eris starts to rub your clit in small circles. You suck in a sharp breath, your hips jolting.
As soon as Eris could feel the wet spot on your panties grow he sticks his hand down your panties. His rough fingers touch your clit and you gasp. Your eyes flutter open to watch his movements. “Off,” you moan.
“What was that little fox?” Eris teased. “Take them off, p-please.” Another moan slipping between your tightly pulled lips. “Of course little fox.” Eris pulled your panties down with ease, tossing them to the floor.
His fingers return to your pussy, running his fingers through your wet folds. A growl sounds from Eris’s throat at feeling this new part of you. Last time Eris had neglected to dip his fingers in you, obsessed with the taste of you.
Eris slid one of his fingers inside you. Curling against your walls to get you used to the feel of him. And the feel of him was amazing. Much better than your own and even better than what you had imagined Eris’s fingers would be like this afternoon.
You go limp against the bed, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders. You moan as he adds another finger pushing all the way in to his knuckles. “Eris, that feels so good.” You breathe out.
He drops his face to your neck, licking and nipping to keep you stimulated. Your hands fly to his hair to tug at the firey strands.
As his fingers curl against your g-spot you feel his thumb press hard against your clit. Your mouth opens in a silent scream. Eris rubs your clit as he keeps thrusting his fingers. A moan falls from your open mouth right next to his. “So tight fox. You’re doing so good for me.”
You squeeze around his fingers making Eris groan. That feeling at the bottom of your stomach growing, a knot about to snap as Eris keeps pleasing you. “P-please Eris, please, please let me cum. Your fingers feel so good, please.”
Cauldron, your sweet begging is going to be the end of him. Eris loved you like this.
“Go ahead sweet fox. Let go, I got you.” He says sweetly. A few more pumps of his fingers had you coming all over his perfect hand.
Coming down from your high you hugged Eris to your chest. Not ready to let go of him just yet. His weight comforting on top of you. Eris pulled his fingers from you, lightly kissing up your jaw as he sat up. You watch with wide doe eyes as Eris licks his fingers clean of you.
You grab his hand, attempting to pull it back down to you but he was unmoving. “More,” you whimper. Your eyelids looked heavy as you blinked up at him. How were you so tired from just this, he thought to himself. Cauldron, what would you be like the day he actually ruins you with his cock?
“Not tonight, little fox. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed yeah,” Eris scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. Ready to pamper you and keep you in his arms all night.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar reader fic#acotar reader imagine#acotar imagine#Eris vanserra#eris vanserra acotar#eris vanserra fic#eris vanserra x reader#acotar eris#eris acotar#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra acotar x reader#Eris smut#eris vandaddy#eris x you#eris x reader
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you should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart.
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: billy gets a flat & while waiting for a tire, you're stuck in oklahoma for a couple more days.
— tags: billy opening up a little. billy working on a car. going to an arcade. going night-swimming.
— tw: there is a homophobic slur in this one.
— word count: 6.8k
— a/n: i hope this entry sounds halfway decent. i wrote the grand majority of it surrounded by other people/noise/music, instead of at my work desk, listening to music that helps me write.
find my other posts concerning billy here
After considerable effort on Billy’s part, he’d eventually coaxed you back into his car and driven the both of you back to the motel. You’d cried the entire way there, and he felt like a piece of shit for it.
Once inside, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor.
“I’m going to shower again real quick—sweated through my fucking clothes from nerves.”
“Okay.”
He sighs. “I need to worry about you running off again while I’m in there?”
You’re quiet for a moment. “No. I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”
He nods and watches as you get ready to lay down on the left side, which is nearest the door.
“Other side,” he says.
You look at him. “Why?”
He crosses his arms. “Please just do what I’ve asked. I don’t feel like fighting anymore tonight.”
You roll your eyes, lying down on the right side, cocooning yourself in blankets.
He goes to wash up quickly then.
When Billy comes back into the bedroom, you’re already fast-asleep. He feels relief that you’d stayed. He’d rushed so much in the shower that he’d gotten shampoo in his eyes. He was surprised the sound of him cursing hadn’t woken you.
He lies down in only his briefs—hating the feeling of clothing on him in bed, but chooses to suck it up for tonight—and he lays on his side, looking at you. Your bruises were still, obviously, quite prominent, but a few were beginning to turn more green instead of their previous dark-blue shade.
He briefly wonders how the fuck your dad could’ve ever put his hands on you, then thinks on how he nearly did just the same less than two hours ago. He tells himself he wouldn’t have done it—but the thought had crossed his mind. He’d wanted to see you afraid in that moment. And then, once he had, immediately regretted it. Deeply.
A muscle in his jaw feathers when he thinks of how you’d asked him to please not hurt you. How he’d come out of the bathroom to find you curled into a ball on the floor, a nervous wreck.
He did that to you.
You’d come with him to get away from your abuser, only to find another one along the way. What the fuck was wrong with him? Picking on you and getting under that pretty skin was one thing—he honestly fucking loved pissing you off and making you flustered. Plus, it turned him on unlike anything else. But scaring you? It just made him hate himself even more than he already does.
He slowly reaches up and gently runs his fingertips along your cheek. “I’m sorry.”
You stir in your sleep, scooting a bit closer to him. He then tries something that, if you wake up, he’s sure he’ll get his ass chewed out for. He wraps his right arm around you, bringing you in closer to him, until you’re against his chest. Thankfully, you remain asleep. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
He then realizes this is the only time he can really talk to you—if he so chooses. He knows if he tried while you’re awake that you’d listen. But what if you later used it against him? Or thought him weak? Or some faggot for ‘sharing his feelings’? No. He had to be strong—tough. That was what constituted being a real man.
He tucks your head under his chin. “I won’t ever scare you like that again. I’d never raise a hand to you.” He lays his cheek against the crown of your head of soft hair. “I don’t know why the fuck I act the way I do. I just don’t know how to stop it. Maybe I can’t.”
He sighs. He was tired—bone-tired after the adrenaline that had rushed through him as he drove down street after street looking for you, mind racing with horrible thoughts. Thoughts like: if someone did kidnap and kill you…the last thing you would remember would be that everyone you’ve ever trusted has either hurt or abandoned you—including him—that no one was coming.
He pulls you impossibly closer then. “Still not going to stop getting on your nerves, though,” he says with a small smile.
You’re awake. Have been the entire time, but choose not to react—to say anything. You want him to continue talking—letting it—anything—out. This is the him you like. Someone who’s capable of opening up and being the least bit vulnerable. Not the monster you’d bore witness to earlier in the evening. As you looked at the hatred in his eyes then, you felt like you were looking at a stranger.
Then again, you feel that way when he’s nice, too. Maybe he has multiple personalities. You smirk at the stupid idea, for whatever reason, then snuggle closer to his chest, enjoying the warmth, his broad back blocking the AC from blowing on you.
The two of you fall asleep like that—twined around one another.
When you wake the next morning, Billy’s heavy form is lying half on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, one of his legs positioned between both of yours. He snores lightly into your ear. And then you notice you’re now drenched in sweat from his body heat.
God, he’s like a human furnace. How the hell does he wear that leather jacket all the time?
You try to wiggle away from him and his snoring pauses for a moment, then continues as you lie still momentarily. You then move further toward the edge of the bed, and once you’ve slid out and onto the floor, you stand, looking down at him, seeing he’s now practically star-fished all across the mattress.
You walk over to your bag, now needing to shower again yourself to wash the sweat off, and grab a few items of clothing, silently padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
When you emerge half-an-hour later—half that time spent blow-drying your head of long hair, and pulling it into a ponytail—something you’d not done in the last couple of days—instead opting for leaving it down—you find Billy already awake, leaned back against the headboard, one arm behind his head, the other holding the TV remote in his lap.
He glances up to you, appreciating the view of you in a crop-top and jean shorts. He wolf-whistles and you don’t even give him a reaction as you place your things back in your bag.
You then turn around and he winks at you.
You don’t want to admit it, but him acting cocky and full of himself again actually comforts you. This him you can tolerate, if not begrudgingly.
“We have to be checked out in a little over an hour.”
He nods, continuing to look you over. “Why don’t you ever tease your hair?”
You shrug, even if you’re taken a little aback by the question. “I used to.”
“When?”
You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall, smirking. “Before you came to Hawkins.”
He frowns. “Why stop?”
“Why do you care what my hair looks like?”
“Just think you’d look hot with it done up is all.”
You walk over, throwing the curtains open and he squints, wincing against the bright light now streaming in. “I don’t have anyone in particular that I’m trying to impress.”
He rolls his eyes at the cheap shot.
You seat yourself on the foot of the bed, facing him.
He raises a brow. “Somethin’ on your mind, doll?”
You grow serious then. After last night, you weren’t sure you could go back to this charade. Not after seeing such a different side of him on the interstate. “Do…do you want to talk about last night?”
He almost replies immediately with 'not really', but refrains. “What about it?”
You look down to your hands in your lap. “They’re not going to be happy, seeing as you put a hole in their wall.”
His jaw flexes. “They can hang a painting up then. Or plaster over it. Like I care.”
You look up to him. “So we’re going back to this, then? You acting like nothing matters to you? And me pretending to believe it?”
He leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “What is it with chicks, man? Always wanting to talk about your damn feelings all the time.” He looks at you. “I got pissed, I did something stupid, and then you did too. What, you want to kiss and make up?”
He cocks his head to the side.
You understand the walls he has built around himself. You’re two sides of the same coin that way. It’s why you didn’t put much effort into making friends at school. You knew what happened when you opened up to people.
They often disappointed.
You scoot closer to him and he shifts uncomfortably, knowing what you’re doing—trying to get closer literally, so as to get closer to him figuratively. He knows this is you trying to connect—form some deeper type of relationship with him, and he should want that, but he simply can’t.
He stands then, walking over to his duffel bag to start getting dressed.
“Billy-”
He keeps his back turned to you. “Just don’t, alright? I’m not the sappy, chick-flick type. We had a fight, we both got upset, it’s over. Just drop it.”
You deflate. “Fine.”
“Fine,” he says, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from his bag.
The two of you get breakfast at the motel—cheap waffles and fruit, but it’s something, and free at that, so you fill yourselves before getting back on the road.
And nearly three hours later finds you on the side of the interstate with a flat tire.
You’d both felt something wrong with the front driver’s side and you’d looked at him, while he groaned, slamming his hand against the wheel. “Fuck, what now?”
He’d pulled onto the shoulder, kneeling down and looking it over. You stood nearby, staying silent as he let out a string of curse words.
He then stood, walking around to the back and popping the truck. You stood idly by, watching as he tossed your bags and his onto the ground, removing the spare tire from the trunk, then the jack and lug-wrench. He tosses the tire down near the flat, then angrily pulls his jacket off, tossing it at you.
You catch it before it can smack you in the face and gently drop it in the back seat.
You watch as he gets to work loosening the bolts on the tire and you feel yourself flush. Watching him work on a car…you hadn’t expect this reaction.
You then wonder if he’s ever done any other work on it before. By the callouses on his hands, especially at eighteen, you imagine so.
When he begins to jack it up, you bite back a nervous smile, feeling something pool between your thighs. Oh, not good. Not here.
You turn away for a moment and he glances up to you. “What, can’t take watching a man get his hands dirty? Sorry your pretty-boy Harrington isn’t here and fuckin’ clueless, I’m sure.”
You turn back around and he notices your flushed cheeks, and you refusing to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not that.”
He stares at you for a moment, then it dawns on him. You like this. A toothy grin forms on his face. “You should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart. I’d really have you sweating then.”
He turns back to the tire, loosening the bolts the rest of the way, pulling it off, and looking it over. Then he explodes, causing you to take a step back. “Motherfucker! Are you fucking kidding me? Goddamn piece of fucking shit! Fuck this, I knew I should’ve bought a Goodyear!”
He stands, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he stares down at the ruined tire, nostrils flared.
“W-what’s wrong? Can you not patch it somehow, maybe?”
He stays silent for a moment, refusing to take this out on you. “No,” he says, brow twitching in irritation. “I would’ve, had the puncture not been in the goddamn sidewall.”
“That’s bad?”
He looks at you, replying sarcastically. “Yeah, honey, that's bad. Means the thing is fuckin’ junk now.”
He kicks it. Then he sighs, bending back down to put the spare on.
“Well, you can just drive on that one now, right?”
He looks upward to the sky, begging for the strength. “Women…” he mutters. “Not more than thirty or forty miles. Definitely no more than a hundred, and that’s if I really want to push my fuckin’ luck and risk another blowout, if not screwing up my alignment, which will just create an even bigger mess.”
It all sounds like Greek to you. “What’s wrong with that tire?”
He looks at you like the answer should be obvious. “It’s a goddamn donut. They’re not meant to be driven on for long periods of time.”
He shoves it on the car, screwing the nuts back into place.
You stay silent after that.
You’re currently standing beside Billy—the back of his shirt drenched in sweat from the summer heat—and watch as the man in front of you, standing behind the counter of a local auto-body shop, talks lowly to someone on the phone, glancing to Billy every few seconds, who is now in a…bad mood, to put it lightly.
The man finally hangs up, turning back to him. “Soonest I can get one in is two days.”
“Two fucking days? Are you kidding me?” He shouts.
You blanch, staring at the man with wide-eyes as he crosses his arms before his chest, giving Billy a rather displeased look.
You then grab the side of Billy’s shirt in your fist. You look at the man. “I’m sorry about that, we’ll be right back.”
Billy looks at you. “Don’t apologize to him. This is fuckin’ ridiculous-”
You shoosh him rather loudly—people already staring in your direction—and pull him back outside for a moment. He stares down at you.
“What?” he spits at you.
“Who cares if it’s two days, or four or five? It’s not like we’re on a set schedule. All that matters is that we eventually get there. I mean, maybe we could start taking detours along the way and do some sight-seeing. No reason to race all the way there and not enjoy the trip, right?”
He studies you for a moment. His first reaction was to tell you this isn’t a fuckin’ vacation—you weren’t going to be pulling off and taking photos of obnoxious tourist-traps. And then he suddenly softens.
This is you trying to spend time with him…right?
If he tells you no…he fears it may come off like he’s trying to get to California as quickly as possible so he can finally be rid of you.
Then he wonders what happens once the two of you do finally reach those sandy shores. Will you leave him behind, too…?
He shakes his head for a moment, ridding himself of that thought and you deflate at his reaction to your suggestion for making your road trip just a bit more exciting.
“Oh. Sorry. Nevermind. Just forget that I-”
He looks at you again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I wasn’t-” He sighs. “Fine. We’ll take a couple days off and just explore around town. Find some overpriced souvenir shop so you can buy some ridiculous t-shirt. Happy?”
You smile, nodding.
He heads back inside then. “Two days is fine.”
You decide to pay up two nights at a local Red Roof Inn, which happens to have an outdoor pool. When Billy was told this by the receptionist, he’d looked to you with a raised brow and a smirk, his eyes trailing down your body, then back up. “We’ll have to pick you up a bikini, sweetheart.”
You’d not replied or even reacted as you picked up your bags, turning to head to your room.
Once dropping off your things, Billy had walked back to the door, intending to head back out, intent on keeping his promise of buying you skimpy swimwear. He’d merely called over his shoulder, as you came out of the bathroom, “You comin’?”
It takes a bit of driving before you come across a local clothing shop. You head over to a rack of sundresses and flowy skirts once inside, while Billy heads to a rack a few feet away with women’s swimwear. He smirks when he finds something similar to what he had pictured in his head for you to squeeze into.
He holds it up, the hanger dangling from his index finger, and he calls to you.
When you look at him you flush—of course the bottoms are equivalent to a thong. Your eyes then meet his and he’s waiting for you to respond, a brow raised in offer.
You then shake your head lightly, looking away.
He sighs. “Course not.”
He flips through a couple other options, then picks up a red two-piece—the top essentially a push-up bra. He clears his throat and you look to him again, then quickly away.
He walks over to you, hanger still in-hand. “Oh, c’mon. Just try this one on. Humor me, honey.”
You shake your head, nose raised. “I don’t think so.”
He leans down. “Pretty please?”
You look at him, his face inches from your own.
You shift from one foot to the other. “If I pick one out will you shut up about it?” You ask sweetly, batting your lashes.
He smirks. “If I get to watch.”
You turn away, rolling your eyes, his own landing on your ass, humming his approval at the view.
You find a high-waisted two-piece and a one-piece you like the look of, and you head for the changing room, Billy following closely behind you, which you don’t notice until you turn to shut the door and he places his hand flat against it, keeping it open.
You stare up at him. “Move.”
He leans against the wall with his shoulder, other hand on his hip. “You never said I didn’t get to watch.”
“It was implied.”
He just continues staring down at you.
You then step closer to him, gripping either side of his jacket in your hands, looking up to him with hooded lids. “Hey, Billy?”
God, it took no fucking effort from you for him to be set on fire.
“Yeah, doll?” He asks, tucking some hair behind your ear.
“Go find someone who’s desperate enough,” you say, pushing him back, and just as he catches his footing, you slam the door in his face.
You decide on the two-piece, the one-piece a bit awkward-looking in the crotch.
When you exit the changing room, you find Billy standing near a wall half-full of novelty t-shirts.
You wander over to him and watch as a smile breaks out across his face as he pulls down a shirt. He then glances to you at his side and holds it up in front of him.
“What’d’ya think?” He asks.
It’s a plain black shirt with white lettering and a red heart, reading: I heart sluts.
You look at him with an unimpressed expression. “Really?”
“Oh, I definitely fuckin’ do.”
You turn away. “I’m going to check out.”
Billy puts the shirt back, flipping through a handful more and then he laughs to himself. “Oh, fucking perfect,” he says, taking a different one up front with him.
When Billy comes out to the car, he has a pair of swim shorts in a plastic bag and is wearing his new t-shirt.
He gets inside and turns toward you, the front of his shirt on full display. “Where to next? Unless you want to head back and let me see you in that suit?”
When you look at him you let out a completely unexpected laugh.
He keeps his face impassive. “Somethin’ funny?”
You stare at the front of his shirt—just how utterly ridiculous and on-the-nose it is—and then look back up to him, breaking into a fit of giggles.
Seeing you like this—happy, having a laugh for once—he starts to, too. “What?” He asks, snorting. “You think I don’t want to?”
You look back down to his shirt again, tears streaming down your face. “Oh, I do. You’re just not going to.”
He finally turns the engine over, pulling away from the shop. “Oh, baby, you should know by now: I’m not one to give up easily.”
You glance back down to his shirt. ‘Fuck virgins’. Really?
After grabbing a quick bite to eat for lunch, Billy finds a local arcade and the two of you head inside, simply looking for something new to keep you occupied for a couple hours.
And it’s when you look around at the flashing lights and take in the sounds of music and machine sound effects, couples and friends laughing and competing against one another, that you realize that for the first time in a very long time you feel worry-free.
You glance up to Billy at your side and find yourself unable to understand, exactly, how it is that you now feel toward him.
You’d seen a different side of him last night on the side of the interstate—the same man who’d picked you up on your way out-of-town—and just wish you could get more glimpses of that version of him. A version you feel you can actually trust and let your defenses down with.
I can’t do this without you.
You weren’t sure you could’ve made it this far without him, either. In reality, you were the one who needed him. He had the car, the money, the wherewithal, and the knowledge to keep you going. And then you briefly consider how those things, coupled with his more serious moments, make you feel safe in relying on him. You wonder how that would make him feel to know. And then you think of his fist in a drywall and withdraw a little.
“You were wrong, y’know,” you say softly.
He looks down to you, stopping, hands on his hips. “What’s that, darlin’?”
You clasp your hands in front of you, looking down. “You could—can—do this without me. You’re not the one who needs the other here.”
He studies you for a moment. Then he grips your chin gently between his fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’re wrong.”
He turns, taking your hand, and leading you over to a machine that will turn his cash into tickets for games. He bites back a satisfied smile at you admitting that you need him as he shoves dollar bills into it. It means a lot to him to hear. Means a lot that you’re willing to actually admit it out loud.
Once you’re both holding handfuls of tickets, Billy heads toward a racing game, while you go to wander in the opposite direction, wanting to try a claw machine, until he grips the hem of your top, dragging you along beside him. “Stop wanderin’ off.”
You look up at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I can get lost in here.”
He smirks. “I’ll win you a stuffed animal later. Once you’ve earned it.”
The two of you then sit side-by-side, readying yourself to race. He glances to you as the screens begin to count down. “Don’t think I’m about to take it easy on you either, just because you have a pair of tits.”
You glare at him. “Why do you always have to be such a vulgar ass?”
He smirks. “Says the girl with a foul-mouth.”
Your wheel jerks and you gasp in disbelief that he was already ramming his car into yours.
You keep your eyes trained ahead at the screen then and accelerate, then see Billy shifting gears out of the corner of your eye.
You mentally resign yourself to losing to him… And you do a couple minutes later, him standing with a smug look on his face, arms crossed.
“Billy, one. You,” he shrugs, sucking on his teeth, cocking his head to the side.
You look behind him and smile, stepping past him, heading for the air hockey.
You currently have six scores to Billy’s two, and as you glance up to him—the irritated look on his face—you find yourself unsurprised that he’s the competitive type.
He smacks the puck back toward you, brows furrowed, free hand gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles are white. “How the fuck are you so good at this?”
You shrug, smacking the puck back his way. “Guess it just comes naturally.”
He glances up to you with a smirk. “Oh yeah? Putting stuff in holes your specialty?” He smacks the puck back toward you.
You don’t take the bait, and instead choose to flip the script on him. “Maybe I just got a lot of recent practice in the night Steve and I went out. Maybe we went to the Hawkins Arcade after.”
You smack the puck as hard as you can, his eyes now trained on you and not the table, and it slides into his side easily. The table lets out a musical jingle at yet another victory on your part and you raise your arms above your head, and jump. “Yes!” You say with a smile, settling back into fighting stance.
His nostrils flare and he leans over the table, slamming the puck down and smacking it so hard it goes flying past you.
You roll your eyes, heading over to grab it and when you bend down to do so, you feel a hard smack against your behind and when you whirl around, Billy standing behind you with a wide smile.
“Bet Harrington didn’t get to do that, though, did he?”
You shoulder check him as you head back to the table. “Felt like a flea bite to me.”
Just as you set the puck back on the table, you feel him grab a handful and squeeze.
You squeak in surprise and before he gets a chance to make it back to his side, you smack the puck over, scoring yet again.
His smile drops from his face. “Hey! That’s fuckin’ cheating.”
You smile sweetly. “Sounds like a skill issue to me.”
He’s fuming now and you can’t believe just how serious he’s taking this.
But one more score on your part and the game will thankfully be over.
Billy once again slams the puck down on the table and doesn’t look at you once as the two of you battle it out—him the image of utter concentration.
You then throw at him, “If you let me win, maybe I’ll repay you in sexual favors.”
His head shoots up and the table jingles and he lets out a loud curse.
Billy is still fuming a few minutes later as the two of you browse their other games, until he eyes up a pinball machine and smiles.
You go to walk past it, until he grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto it.
You flush, glancing around, afraid of being kicked out by an employee, until he shoves two tickets into the machine, positioning his hands on either side of you, over-top of the buttons, his eyes staring into your own.
“Skill issue my ass,” he says, pulling the knob back, sending the tiny pin ball flying.
You cover the entire front portion of the game, so there’s no way he has any idea what he’s doing. Until he pushes the button for the right bumper, then the left, left again, right, his eyes never leaving your own.
The scoreboard begins to climb behind you—ten points, thirty, thirty-five, fifty, eventually a hundred, a few hundred. He smirks. “You won the last game, so what sexual favors do I get rewarded with again?”
The pinball tings under you.
You shift and he just continues staring, waiting.
“I…” You trail off. It wasn’t like he had let you win. You’d cheated, like he said. Twice, really.
The machine begins to go wild under you and coins begin to shoot into the dispenser—so many they begin spilling onto the floor.
"You should see what else these fingers are good at playing with." He slides his hands up your thighs until they’re resting over your hips. He pulls you closer to him. “Maybe I should just choose.”
You laugh from nerves. “I wasn’t serious.”
He slides his hands onto your bare waist. “You think I’m letting you out of it that easy?” He steps back finally, scooping coins into his hands, stuffing them into his pockets. “Not likely, sweetheart.”
You stand silently beside Billy as he looks over the larger prizes against the wall behind the counter. They even have an Atari. He’d wanted one for a long time, but after getting told no more times than he could count by his dad, he finally gave up on it. And when he got his car, he didn’t have much interest in wasting his time on anything else. Working on it more than served to take his mind off his shitty life.
He looks to you and you smile up at him, waiting patiently while he makes up his mind.
Then, “You choose.”
Your smile falters. “But you’re the one who won.”
He smirks, then reaches up, running his knuckles along your cheek. “Oh, I know I did. And don't think for a second I don't plan on collecting on that offer.”
You and your mouth. Stupid.
After dinner at a small diner—Billy paying for you again—the two of you return to the motel and once the door has closed behind you, Billy goes to strip right in front of you.
You gasp in shock, turning your back to him. "Can you please stop doing that?"
He slips on his new pair of swim trunks. "You've already seen my ass once, sweetie. What's another time or two?"
He then comes up from behind you, pressing himself against your back and you jolt.
He leans down toward your ear. "Might want to slip your suit on, too if we're going to swim. Unless you'd rather skinny dip?"
You grab the plastic bag which houses your new two-piece and head for the bathroom.
Once you've put it on, you look over yourself in the mirror for a moment, ensuring everything is properly covered. And also mentally prepare yourself for the lewd comments you already know Billy is going to be incessantly throwing your way.
You exit the bathroom, Billy leaning back against the open doorway to your room, arms crossed and his head rolls in your direction, eyes widening.
You're wearing his favorite color—blue. Almost an exact shade-match to his Camaro. He wonders if that choice had been intentional. Your bottoms are high-waisted, but at your hips are small, thin bows, every inch of your long legs on display. The top cups your breasts perfectly, a small bow between them as well.
He wolf-whistles. Then licks his lips and says, "I'll tell you this much, honey, the water won't be the only thing making you wet tonight if I have anything to say about it."
You walk past him. "You don't."
Just as he shuts the door behind the both of you, he reaches up with both hands and undoes both ties at your neck and backside, your top slipping off. You quickly reach up, covering yourself with your hands and he snickers as he grabs your top before you get a chance to.
You stand there, mortified. "Give it back!"
He holds it up above his head. "You want it so bad, take it from me."
You glare up at him, irritation building to a boiling point.
He shrugs, turning away. "Guess you don't need it all that bad then."
Once his back is turned to you, you make a split-second decision and pants him.
He curses, dropping your top long enough to pull his bottoms back up and you grab it, jogging down the stairs to get away from him long enough to get it back on.
You reach the pool before he does and deflate when you see the sign on the gate: Night swimming strictly prohibited.
You turn to go back go to the room, deciding on just watching a movie in bed, instead, after taking a hot bath, but bump into Billy's bare chest.
"What're you doing?"
"The sign says no night swimming."
His brows furrow. "So?" He flips the lock on the gate, stepping past it.
You quickly follow after him, grabbing his arm. "Billy, stop."
He turns back to you, expression that of indifference, clearly not caring about the repercussions of his future actions.
"We could get kicked out for this. And I doubt they'd be willing to refund you for the room tonight."
Your voice is a tone of pleading.
He's silent for a moment, as if he's considering his options, then sighs. "You're right, I'm sorry."
You fill with relief, glad he's listening you for once.
Until he bends down, wrapping his arms around your knees, picking you up. You wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling off of him backward. "Billy, what're you-"
He races toward the pool and cannonballs in, instantly submerging the both of you.
When you get above the surface, he's floating on his back, arms behind his head, flashing you a smile.
"You are such an ass."
You go to swim in the other direction, toward the steps, until you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind. "Oh no you don't."
You squirm against him and he just laughs as you struggle, turning you around until you're chest-to-chest.
"Let go of me, I want to get out before someone catches us."
"No one's going to catch us. Can you just chill the fuck out for a second? Jesus. You're aware you're allowed to let loose every once in awhile and have fun, right? You don't have to be so uptight all the time."
You stay quiet, ignoring the feel of his hands at your hips, which then move back to wrapping around your back.
He sighs."You're not there. You don't have to act like the woman of the house anymore. You don't have to keep it together all the time with me. You can be whoever you want now; do whatever you want. No one's going to stop you."
Your eyes sting and you tell yourself it's from the chlorine. Not from him having read you so easily.
And then you relax a little."I don't know how," you say softly.
He looks at you for a moment, thinking. "What's something you've always wanted to do, but felt like you couldn't, either because of him, or because you were afraid what everyone might think?"
You search yourself for an answer, but don't come up with anything. There was no point in thinking about things you might've been able to do if you had a different life before. You didn't. You were who you were, and you made your peace with that.
You shrug. "I'm not sure."
He rubs one palm down your back. And then he smirks, and you know whatever he's come up with is going to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. "You ever been drunk before?"
You frown. "That's not really my idea of fun."
"Just answer the question."
"No, I haven't."
He grins. "Want to?"
You debate it for a moment, sure it's a foolish thing to do. Especially with him. "Not tonight..."
"Tomorrow night, then?"
You know it's an impulsive and stupid thing to do, but you know you'll never "let loose" all on your own. Because what you'd told him is true: you don't know how.
You've never had the option to do anything before but what was expected of you. Or, rather, what you expected of yourself, since your dad couldn't be relied on for nearly anything. Other than getting drunk himself. Then you worry: what if you agree, and you come to discover you have a predisposition to alcoholism yourself?
You nearly groan for over-thinking yet one more thing. Just like always.
"Okay," you reply quietly, knowing you will have all day tomorrow to change your mind if you so choose.
He smiles. "Yeah?"
"I said okay." Your fingers brush against his curls at the base of his neck.
He squeezes your hips. "I'll have to get you liquored up so I can finally take advantage of you."
You roll your eyes skyward. "I changed my mind."
"It's called a joke, sweetheart. Stop taking everything to heart."
He glances behind you then. "Shit, what're those doing over there?" He asks with a tone of flat, feigned confusion.
You turn your head to look across the pool and you feel your skin grow hot when you see your bikini bottoms floating atop the water.
You push off of him then. "You're such a perv!"
He laughs and pinches your bottom as you swim away from him to go grab them. So that's why he'd been so handsy with your hips—he'd been busy untying them.
As you put them back on, tying the bows back into place, you look back to him with a heated expression. "So you were distracting me so you could do... That."
You lays flat on his back, floating. "Maybe. But I still meant the things I said: that you need to get over yourself and have some fun. Make a couple bad decisions. Might turn out to be the best thing you've ever done."
You splash him, then get out, heading back up to the room.
Once you've both bathed for the night, Billy exits the bathroom...completely naked.
You reach up, covering your eyes."Will you please stop doing that?!"
He walks around to his side of the bed. "I told you, I don't like sleeping in clothes. So from now on I won't be. Get used to it."
He crawls into bed beside you and thankfully covers up.
You lower your hands, looking at him. "You wore something last night."
"Because last night was different."
You groan. He's going to do whatever he wants. You already know you're wasting your breath arguing.
You nearly threaten to do the same, so as to give him a taste of his own medicine, then bite your tongue, knowing throwing that in his face would give him exactly what he wants.
So, instead, you lean over him smirking, your body hovering over his, your left leg between both of his and he looks up at you with a look of happy surprise. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and your smile disappears at the unexpectedly soft gesture as you awkwardly grab the TV remote from his bedside table and plop back down on your side of the bed.
You hadn't expected such a...sweet reaction. You were just doing it to lead him on and then tick him off.
And it turns out it worked when he speaks. "God, you're such a fuckin' tease. I don't buy the innocent act anymore, so don't bother with it."
You turn the TV on, flipping through the channels. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Billy doesn't get what he wants when, an hour later, you're both lying down for the night, and he's under the top sheet, while you're atop it, but still under the duvet.
"Be a lot warmer if you just pressed yourself up against me again like last night."
You can't see him in the dark, and know he thus can't see you, but you roll your eyes anyway. "Go to sleep."
"I'm not tired. You could always help with that."
You feel him shifting onto his side, then feel a warm hand sliding under your nightgown. You reach down, trying to shove his hand away, but, with him being stronger than you, he just keeps pushing higher until he reaches second base. Well, sort of. His hand merely skims the soft skin beneath your breast, but you huff loudly out of irritation, turning onto your other side away from him.
"Honey, if you wanted to spoon, all you had to do was ask."
He then presses his frontside against your back and you go to get up, until he wraps an ironclad arm around your middle.
"No, that's not my pistol, before you ask. I'm just that happy to see you."
"You are so fucking obnoxious. Get off of me."
He snuggles closer to you. "Mm, I don't think I will."
He becomes quiet then, and it's only a couple minutes later before he falls asleep, exhausted from the long day.
You stay silent, not wanting to wake him and hear more inappropriate comments. So you shut your eyes, falling asleep in his arms. Reluctantly.
#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader
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505
✞ Once again, Im back with the short little blurbs! This time, theyre rather cute and adorable, and are about some of my favourite drivers, a song assigned for each. (I have synesthesia).
✞ Word count - 2,8k
✞ Drivers included - Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, Logan Sargeant, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, Jenson Button.
✞ (P.S. - lemme know if you dont see any of your favs. Im more than happy to write something <3)
Lando Yeswins - 505, arctic monkeys
"No!" Your shriek rings out through the air of the somewhat empty room, quickly followed by both of your giggles, as Lando has launched himself into you, picking you up. The man has missed you so, so much. He didnt even think it was possible. Hed spend his free time with looking at pictures of you, wishing that he could feel that skin against his, and... smell it, really. Now, that he has finally gotten the chance...
Your back makes contact with the couch, Lando still clinging to you tightly, and just plopping on top of you. He buries his face into your chest, drawing a deep breath to take in your scent... But you smelled like... him??
"Baby... have you been living in my clothes?" He asks, amusement laced into his tone. His face was still buried right where his favourite place was, though.
Silence from your end. One awkward chuckle later, you burst into another fit of giggles, followed by the heat that rose to your cheeks. You werent so sure if it was the man making you blush, or him being a damn human radiator doing the trick. Either way, you didnt mind - the golden retriever goofball of a man was excited to close the distance between you two again. A little too excited, even.
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Oscar Leclerc Piastri - teenage dream, katy perry
Him. You. Both of you. A lot of people have called you the dream team, and you have seen a lot of jealous tweets. Posts about your relationship in general - people seemed to be suckers for the childhood friends to lovers trope. So much that you could barely keep track of them anymore.
You have incorporated scrolling through the socials, and hunting for cute memes to annoy him, straight into your routine. His dms from you were filled with various kinds of those, mostly a spectrum of cat memes. Yes, a spectrum. You seemed to be unhinged enough to even ask for fun time alone through those. And, to be honest? They always worked on him. Always.
This time, it was no different - you were curled up on the couch, Oscar laying his head on your stomach, trying to nap. You could be seen scrolling, and... yep. Looking for some memes.
You find something else, though, your heart melting at the sight. You cant even hold the 'awwww' in, as much as you wanted to...
"Huh?" Oscar croaks out, rising from his slumber. All he heard was you making some sort of noise, and he instantly realized that he was about to get a phone right up his face. However... he slowly looks up and sees you... crying?
He doesnt say anything, but scoots up slightly instead, his face landing right by your neck. He looks at the little screen... Only to see a picture of two small children, both in race suits, both giggling on a makeshift podium. He quickly comes to the realisation that hes looking at both of you, at one of your first karting competitions together. And its all it takes to make a tear roll down his cheek as well. A happy tear. Hes quick to start kissing yours away, not even hesitating. Your skin tingled at the gentle contact, and you softly chuckle. Thats exactly what he wanted to achieve. A laugh out of those pretty lips of yours.
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Max Verstappen - im yours sped up, isabel larosa
As tough as this man looked out there, in the face of the cameras... he turned into a whiny puddle whenever he was wrapped in your arms. Something about you made him melt each and every time, making him feel safer than ever. Is that because you usually used rather masculine fragrances and smelled like a dad that he never really had? Maybe, maybe...
He was getting his daily dose of cuddles in. This time it was more of a comfort than it has ever been - he didnt do good, and didnt even finish the race. He felt awful.
"Are you going to leave me now?" You suddenly hear a muffled voice, coming from a certain mans face, currently getting buried into your chest.
"Pardon?" You respond, a confused chuckle following the single-word sentence. He wasnt insecure... as far as you knew.
"I said what i said, Liefje... now answer." the man groans, almost making you chuckle again - he was awfully adorable at the moment.
"No, baby, im yours. For life. Have you forgotten?" your voice reminds him, as you slip one of your hands away from his waist, wiggling the fingers not too far from his eyes. He feels you pulling your hand away, the action making him look up slightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That quickly melts away as he sees the engagement ring on your finger, one that he proposed to you with a few days ago.
"Right... i still havent gotten used to that. Sorry, mijn mooie vrouw." He responds, a small, tired smile slipping onto his lips, and you cant help but give him a small peck. You might be a master at making this man blush, but he had the exact same effect on you as well.
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Daniel Ricciardo - Iris, the goo goo dolls
Evenings spent with him on the porch were your all time favourite, easily - especially if it included watching the sunset. In that case, you had two incredibly gorgeous views to rest your eyes upon. And he definitely knew you were staring at him, instead of the pretty orange colours dancing across the sky - he just pretended not to see.
You two were cuddling on the beach chair - your body in his lap, your back to his chest. Hes currently zoned out just a little, honestly. He has adopted the habit of adoring the pretty clouds from you, and pointing out all the interesting shapes. This time, though, you were quicker than him, and an excited 'ooohhh!' coming from your mouth lets him know exactly that.
"Look! That one looks like a honey badger!" you excitedly blurt out, trying to point at the shape with your finger. He follows, and quickly sees what you wanted to show him. The cloud, indeed, is honey badger shaped. You earn a hearty chuckle and one of his grins that you loved oh so much. Yes, those grins.
His arms tighten around your waist, his lips not being able to resist from leaving a trail of kisses on the back of your neck, eventually landing on the back of your head. And you didnt need much more from him - you knew that it was his way of thanking you. By making you feel all warm and giddy inside.
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Logan Sargeant - american teenager, ethel cain
Spring has just started rolling around, leaving you to deal with your allergies. Its not like it was something new, or something serious, but it annoyed you nonetheless.
You two had a date that you were looking forward to all week, but suddenly, you felt like you couldnt live two minutes without having to blow your nose. Great. Logan noticed your mood immediately, so he had offered to watch a movie at home instead. You didnt resist much - you wanted to spend some time with your man, after all.
After cuddling up to him on the couch... You silently thanked for the ridiculous misery of your fate - feeling his body right by yours felt way better than spending time outside. Hearing him quietly breathe by you left you almost ecstatic, the warm air brushing by somewhere on your body, and as of the current case, your hair. Speaking of hair - he liked planting those little kisses to the crown of your head whenever you had your back to him. Almost just as much as looking at your backside.
These little moments reminded you just how far you two have come - it sometimes still felt like you were a pair of awkward teenagers, trying desperately to get over yourself to talk to each other. You still tease him about it, honestly - watching the popular guy at the school blush and giggle was the favourite sight of many.
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Charles Leclerc - k., cigarettes after sex
"Chéri, look! Thats cute, no?" You heard Charles come into the kitchen, cooing at something on his phone. You didnt have the time to turn around and look at him, honestly. So he was forced to come up right behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his palm softly brushing by your stomach while in the process. You couldnt help but wonder...
1...
2...
Yep, here it is. A gentle kiss to the corner of your jaw. You cant help but chuckle as his lips make contact with your skin, pleasure shooting down your spine almost immediately. He usually stops at one, but he seems to be in a playful mood today - because he doesnt, and continues to trace a line, almost connecting the dots on all your little moles and freckles.
"What is it?" You ask him with a chuckle, trying to distract him. However, you just dont get an answer. Just a phone getting shoved almost right into your face. The video that he wanted to show unpauses, and a scene of a cute puppy running around could be seen. Your heart instantly melts.
Charles seems to notice, because he already looks like a kid on christmas morning.
"Can we... adopt him? I even have a name!" He blurts out excitedly, making you chuckle again. You knew of his passion for dogs... so one wouldnt hurt, right?
You didnt even get to reply before he launched himself into a rant about why getting a dog right now would be a great idea. You just knew that you were going to spend like an hour, just listening to him talk. But you didnt mind - you enjoyed the sound of his voice, and watching the way he speaks with his hands whenever hes excited. It was truly an awfully adorable sight to witness every time.
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Carlos Sainz - good luck, babe!, chappell roan
He had a small ritual of hugging you before his races - he fully, firmly, and truly believed that hes not going to achieve any good results if he doesnt. And, look - it was true, so far. The win in Singapore? In his head, it was all because you initiated a hug that day. His arms had lingered on you for a little longer than they should have been for you two being just friends, but its not like you two minded, at all. You actually craved him and his touch. You craved to feel those hands around you, and to hear his voice murmuring something into your ear. You wanted, no, needed to feel the scent and the warmth of him being so close.
So you never really protested against his idea. In all honesty, it was the most desperate move that someone has ever tried to hit on you with. The most adorable one as well.
If you thought that you were going crazy from him invading every single nook and cranny of your mind... You should have taken a look into his. You and him both knew of the rumours floating around the internet, and all the fans almost straight up telling you two to just make out already. And that has almost happened, and multiple times - one of you always ended up awkwardly pulling away, though. Having him as a friend felt good, but you were sure that having him as a lover would feel like heaven.
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Lewis Hamilton - older, isabel larosa
"Thank you, love." His voice floats through the air of his drivers room, effortlessly reaching your ears, making you blush. Just a little. You had passed him his water bottle - his hands were far too busy with your hips, caressing and squeezing them with great care. His legs were spread a little, you positioned in between them. Yet, it still didnt seem like it was close enough for him - he kept trying to pull you closer, almost desperately tugging on the material of your jeans. A hand of his was now occupied with the water bottle, so he finds that as an opportunity to wrap the other around you fully, bringing you closer, once again. You almost fall over, but you catch yourself with a hand on the wall right besides his head. Helping Lewis train sometimes did help, huh?
"Hey there, easy! I couldve fallen right on top of you!" You had mentioned out loud in mock annoyance, trying hard to keep a chuckle at bay. It was hard to do so, though, because you could see a grin appearing on his lips. No, onto his whole face - the entirety of it would light up whenever he smiled or laughed, melting your heart each and every time.
"Do you prefer to be under me then?" He murmurs as a tease, leaning in to give you a chaste kiss on your neck. He knew that it was one of your ticklish spots - so he had adopted the habit of placing the gentlest kisses of them all right there. They never failed to make you feel flustered and giggly, making sure to spread a blush all over your face. Lewis was just secretly happy that you never seemed to notice his own blush, just like right now.
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Sebastian Vettel - too sweet, hozier
You were sat at your desk in your home office, working late. Again. All sorts of papers were scattered all around you, a pretty decent amount crumpled up and thrown aside as well. At first, youd aim for the trashcan, getting all giddy whenever youd make a shot. But the more time passed, the more you didnt care. You found yourself thinking of the fact that your husband wouldnt be really pleased at your current decision, and you being grateful that hes currently away for a few days. And you just happily continue focusing on your work.
You had focused a little too much, perhaps. Because you didnt hear Sebastian returning home, didnt notice him opening your office door either. You only did that when he spoke up, startling you a decent amount.
"Brought you coffee, schatz." He said, quietly walking to appear by your side, placing the mug down. You smiled at him in appreciation, tilting your head up to look at him. Right as you do so, you get surprised with a forehead kiss. You cant fight the smile that wanted to appear onto your lips, going back to your work. You fully expect Sebastian to protest, to go ahead and try to pull you away from the work. But what does he do instead? He lets his hands meet with your tense shoulders, and gets to gently massaging them, slowly kneading out the knots. No words said. A quiet hum escapes your throat. You two didnt need any words to communicate, really. He understood you on a deeper level, just like you understood him. Isnt it sweet?
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Jenson Button - one of the girls, the weeknd
"Twirl around again?" Jenson requests, making a spinning motion in the air with two of his fingers. You had decided to make him watch your fashion show after the shopping spree of today, just like you usually did. Every time. You thought hed be a little annoyed at you for forcing him to sit down on the couch, basically pushing him backwards right onto it. It was far, far from it - hed even encourage you to go shopping sometimes. 'Honey, its our anniversary next Saturday. Dont you want a new dress?', 'Go get something new, we're going out tomorrow', and 'i think you need to refresh your wardrobe' were phrases that you heard pretty often. And not for the reasons youd think - this man just truly and genuinely enjoyed seeing you smile, and the enthusiasm that would possess your whole being when it came to showing him. You liked to call him a simp, but in his books, that was just being reasonable.
You gladly fulfill his request with a giggle, spinning around to let the skirt of the dress flow around. This one had a great score on both of the 'spinny' and 'shiny' scales, which he learned from you pretty fast. However, he sees you suddenly stop. The surprise on his face is almost as big as yours. However, you quickly gasp and start giggling again, shoving your hands into... some pockets?
"It has pockets!" You excitedly blurt out, turning both of the pockets inside out to show him. That earns a chuckle out of him. You play around with the pockets some more, and start spinning again. As much as Jenson adored your silliness, sometimes. Hed worry about you bumping into things... and it would happen pretty often. But he was always there to baby you, placing gentle kisses around the spot you had just hurt yourself.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanart#formula one fanart#fanfiction#formula one fanfics#f1 x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#max verstappen#daniel ricciardo#logan sargeant#charles leclerc#carlos sainz#lewis hamilton#sebastian vettel#jenson button
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MBCC DATING SIM
Reasons to Date Cinnabar
Cinnabar was not expecting the letter she received from Chief, requesting her to go on a blind date. She was flustered and slightly nervous at the thought, not knowing what to do with it. But it's her duty to do as she told.
She showed up at the designated meeting spot, her hands trembling slightly as she shuffled through her pocket. She finally found the small, black envelope with her name written in bold letters on the front. With deep breaths, she slowly opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper, her heart racing with the anticipation of what was to come.
As she scanned the paper, her heart fluttered as she read the title: "Reasons to Date Cinnabar." She felt her face turn beet red, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She didn't need a mirror to know that her blush was visible from a mile away.
Reason No. 1:
You get a free horse-riding coach!
Things had been happening rapidly, Cinnabar didn't know how she got here with you. Maybe it's the will of the writer? The letter had mentioned that she can be a horse-riding coach even though she had never shown her riding skills since her arrest at MBCC, so she was confused as to how Chief knew about this.
But now that's not the problem. Cinnabar was panicking inside at the moment. Did you accidentally hurt yourself? Then why do you have a nosebleed even though she just simply offered her hand to you? She had never experienced anything like this before and was at a complete loss for words.
YOUR POV:
Reason No. 2:
A sense of safety that's off the charts. There is no need to worry about Corrupters anywhere you are.
"Rest assured, we're safe now."
Cinnabar was relieved to finally be out of sight of the Corruptors. She let out a deep breath, feeling the accumulated sweat dripping down her body. It was true that she had been doing this countless times as a guard, but the discomfort never fully subsided.
With a sigh, she turned around to check on you, and her concern quickly turned to shock as she saw blood streaming from your nose again.
Why are you having a nosebleed again?!
YOUR POV:
(Please imagine that she's oiled up sweating a lot.)
Reason No. 3:
Cinnabar would always know how to comfort you. If you ever cried, she would surely wipe your tears away with her gentle hands.
Cinnabar was always attentive and had a way of comforting people in distress, especially those she cared about. When she saw you crying, her first instinct was to comfort you, and she reached out to wipe away your tears with her gentle hands.
As she held your hand, she frowned slightly, a look of doubt on her face. "You're not going to have a nosebleed again, right?" she asked, her tone filled with concern. Your nosebleed had already caused her a lot of worry earlier, and she didn't want you to suffer any further.
.
.
.
[HIDDEN ROUTE: SHE'S YOURS NOW]
YOUR POV: Twitter Link
(No need to thank me 😉 but she's mine, stay away 🤺. I'm only showing off my husband 🧍♀️)
Image by PathtoNowhereEN on Twitter/X
My poor baby.. LMAO I WAS DYING FROM LAUGHING TOO MUCH BEFORE MAKING THIS
Sorry Cinnababe, you'll be always be my favorite. So you can't escape from the clown inside of me.
#path to nowhere#ptn#ptn cinnabar#path to nowhere x reader#cinnabar x reader#mbcc dating sim#(ʘᴗʘ✿) brain juices.
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The Rare Bookseller Part 53: Fitz's Terrible Idea
Prev > Masterlist
tw: conditioning, mind control, Stockholm syndrome, arrow wound, blood, blood drinking
August 1905
Alexander was seated peacefully by the fire, a soft blanket draped across his lap, lost in the enormous musty book in his hands. It was a scene of perfect tranquility. A perfect scene for Fitz to disrupt.
"So, what are you reading, sir?" he said, flopping down sideways on the couch and draping himself halfway across Alexander's lap, jostling his book and looking up at him with a shameless grin.
His master sighed, but smiled at Fitz. "I was reading about the customs and ways of the local faefolk."
"Faefolk, sir? You mean like fairies?" Fitz asked. "I knew a guy who was running a racket making fake pictures of fairies to sell to rubes. You're saying they're real, sir?"
"They're very real, and you're unlikely to get a picture of them unless they want you to," said Alexander. "They used to be found in the human world much more often, before humans industrialized. Now, most of the once-proud clans are scattered tribes in slow decline in the few wild places left. Centuries ago, it was common enough for faefolk to mingle with humans that many humans today have traces of fae blood."
"Is that so, sir?" said Fitz. Normally he would find this kind of lecture to be boring, but his master's voice was so captivating that he could happily listen to anything.
"You do, too, I'm sure of it. Your blood smells of it."
"Oh, really, sir?" he said, sitting up a bit. "It's hard to imagine any of my dusty old ancestors making love to a fairy."
"I imagine your ancestors weren't as dusty and boring as you imagine. I expect some of them were more like you."
"Are you saying that I would cavort with a fairy, given the chance?" Fitz laughed. "Because you're absolutely right, sir, I would."
"You see what I mean?"
Fitz leaned in closer, shamelessly running his hand through Alexander's hair. "Well, if I'm a fairy, you'd better be careful, sir, or one day I'll drag you away to fairy-land."
"I dearly wish you would," said Alexander, serious and sad.
Fitz's breath caught. They stared at each other for a long moment. And then the spell between them was broken.
"Unfortunately, I need to go out tonight. Business."
"What business is more important than this, sir?" said Fitz, irritated at being spurned and annoyed that he was irritated.
"It's important. I'll tell you what it is eventually. But for now, I have to go."
And so Fitz found himself alone once more in front of the slowly dying fire, eating an apple, with nothing to occupy his mind but his own thoughts -- the worst way to spend his evening.
He was growing too comfortable here, he knew that. The manor was filled with dust and the scent of deteriorating book bindings, but once he'd gotten used to that, it was strangely like a home. It was less ostentatiously luxurious than the mansion of his childhood, but somehow, despite being a vampire's manor, more comfortable and less oppressive. He slept on the finest sheets, ate expensive foods, and bathed with a wide selection of high-end imported toiletries. Alexander, despite his ability to sink Fitz into a stupor with a word, never criticized, never spoke in anger, never demanded anything of Fitz but his blood.
And thanks to the many layers of mesmeric spell he was under, that blood was all too easy to give.
Alexander, his vampiric master, was the real problem. Between his mesmerism, good looks, and quiet charms, he had Fitz firmly wrapped around his finger, like it or not. Even during the day, when he tossed and turned in a fruitless attempt to sleep, he thought of Alexander, his unkept hair, his gentle hands, and especially his captivating voice. He knew he shouldn't feel that way about a vampire who had purchased him from an auction and was keeping him captive and in dire peril, but his idiotic emotions and the spell laid thick on his mind said otherwise.
It wasn't as though it was likely that Alexander had genuine feelings towards him, no matter how much it seemed that way at times. Fitz knew he was a convenient source of blood. Effectively a grocery item. He knew better than to think his master's need was anything more than that.
Fitz sighed as he tossed the half-eaten apple into the air, missing the catch and watching as it rolled under a couch. Alexander had been leaving for the night more frequently lately, and Fitz was painfully bored without an audience for his chatter and whims.
An audience! Apart from his freedom, that was the main thing he was missing out of life. He needed the stage, the rush of applause, the thrill of holding a crowd captive. Alexander had promised him he could have it, but since then he'd dismissed Fitz when he asked about it.
That thought gave Fitz some direction for what he wanted to do with the evening. He marched upstairs to his bedroom and donned an eye-catching purple frock with an actual collar. He wanted something to keep Alexander's attention without enticing him to feed, so that Fitz could flirt his way into what he wanted.
And then he waited for his master to return. And waited. And waited.
He really shouldn't be so worried about the vampire who was keeping him captive. After all, if something happened to his master, maybe the spell would lift from him, he'd come to his senses, and he could escape this place. That's what he tried to tell himself, but the idea that something could happen to Alexander filled him with a sick dread instead.
Just as he was on the verge of tearing his hair out in frustration, the front door opened and Alexander staggered inside. His steps were ragged and he was panting hard, the problem plain to see -- an honest-to-god arrow sticking out of his upper arm.
"God damn," he said. "What happened to you, sir?"
"Fitz," said Alexander with pleading eyes. "Please…"
That was more than enough to make him abandon all his plans, as clearly his master was in no state for his skillful manipulations. Fitz rushed to prop Alexander up.
"Help me upstairs, to my bathroom. I need to treat this wound."
"How the hell did you get shot with an arrow here in the city, sir?"
"Can the explanation wait until I've removed the arrow?"
"That's fair, sir." Fitz guided his master up the stairs as Alexander winced and whimpered.
Fitz had been in his master's bedroom a few times before, primarily to help him with his hair and outfit, and was comforted by the fact that Alexander's sleeping quarters was as much of a disaster as his had always been. He had ample experience picking his way through discarded laundry on the floor, and soon he was helping his master sit at the edge of his bathtub. Fitz wasted no time unbuttoning Alexander's shirt and tossing it aside, an action that was purely in his master's best interest for treating his injury and nothing more.
"Get a towel ready, a green one from the bottom shelf, and some bandages. I'm going to pull out the arrow."
"Doesn't that do more harm than good, sir?" said Fitz, preparing the requested items anyway..
"That may be true for a human at risk of bleeding out, but this wound can't kill me. The faster I remove the arrow, the faster I can start to heal."
"If you say so, sir."
Alexander wrapped the old towel around the arrow, and Fitz watched in horrified fascination as he took a deep breath and yanked. The blood gushing from the wound soaked straight through the towel as Alexander pressed it to his arm, making some truly godawful noises. Fitz fidgeted nervously, wanting to do something to help but feeling entirely out of his depth. He grabbed a washcloth off the bottom shelf and ran it under warm water.
"Here, sir, let me wash the wound."
"It's fine. I just need bandages."
"It could fester, sir, and I don't think either of us would enjoy that."
"It won't fester. The same magic that keeps this dead body upright also protects it from rot and infection. Otherwise I'd be little better than a bloated corpse."
Fitz shifted nervously, uneasy at the reminder that the handsome face in front of him was, in fact, long dead. "Let me wash it anyway, sir."
"…All right." Alexander took the towel off the wound and presented it to Fitz, who was struggling hard to not get woozy and keel over at the sight of it. He took it in his hands as though he were an experienced field medic, dabbing at it with the warm washcloth, and he felt vindicated as the pain on Alexander's face began to recede slightly.
"So… you've removed the arrow, sir."
"So I have."
"You told me you were going to explain how you were shot, sir."
Alexander scowled and looked away, remaining silent for so long that Fitz thought he would have to badger him to get anything out. "Hunter," he finally said.
"Hunter, sir?"
"A vampire hunter. Every city with a vampire population attracts them, a small but dedicated group."
"Vampire hunters…" It wasn't a possibility Fitz had thought of, but he supposed that it made sense.
"I don't usually have any trouble with hunters," Alexander said. "They mostly hunt vampires who prey on people in the streets. I keep my own thrall, and generally stay confined to the manor. Besides that, my vampiric aura is enough to keep most hunters at bay."
"And yet, this arrow didn't embed itself in your flesh all by itself, sir."
"No, it didn't."
"So why'd a hunter attack you this time, sir?"
"I had hoped not to tell you yet, but I suppose you should know," said Alexander. "I'm recruiting hunters to try and kill my sire."
Fitz looked to the bloody gash in front of him, then down at the discarded arrow. "Far be it from me to criticize my master, sir, but it seems your recruitment tactic may leave something to be desired."
Alexander chuckled. "Hunters won't help a vampire willingly, even to kill another vampire. They have to be persuaded."
"So you're mesmerizing them into doing your dirty work, sir?"
"A dozen so far, and I hope to get at least a dozen more."
"A dozen, sir…" Fitz put down the washcloth and began to wrap Alexander's arm in clean bandages as he thought about this. Alexander was risking his life against a dozen vampire hunters or more to try and kill his sire. Primarily to protect him.
He should be concerned, but instead, his treacherous heart fluttered. His hand brushed against Alexander's chest. His master gave it a long and lonely look, as though he'd never been touched there before.
His master was so solitary. How long had it been since he'd last been touched?
How long had it been since Fitz had last been touched?
Before he could think better of it, he ran his hand through Alexander's soft hair, palm lingering on his cheek as he traced down his face. To Fitz's surprise, his master leaned into the touch, drinking it in like a parched man. Fitz repeated the action with more confidence this time, enjoying the wistful look in his eyes.
"…Be careful," Alexander said finally.
"Careful of what, sir?"
"What you're doing. You must know by now that my feelings towards you are… You should be careful."
Fitz's eyes went wide. Was this a manipulation? Alexander, still looking tired and pained, seemed in no state to be engaging in manipulation.
"Well, sir, I appreciate your advice, but I've found that I never get anywhere in life when I'm being careful."
He was pushing his hand through Alexander's hair to the back of his head, pressing his master's lips to his, hardly caring that they were cold and chapped. He'd wanted this since the first time they'd met in the auction house, and the fact that it was a terrible idea only made Fitz want it more.
Alexander's hands closed around his arms as if to push him away, but he didn't. Instead he pushed forward, returning the kiss, and Fitz felt a giddy thrill in his heart at having finally charmed the stubborn, lonely vampire into reciprocating his affection. They tumbled onto the bathroom floor, Alexander halfway on top of Fitz, and Alexander was desperate as though he hadn't been kissed in a hundred years. Well, he probably hadn't.
Alexander suddenly stopped and drew back, guilt on his face. "I -- I shouldn't -- "
Fitz closed the distance between them once more before either of them could ruin the moment by thinking too much. He needed this. He needed the touch, and even if it was unnaturally cold, he was still drinking it in. He especially needed this infuriatingly stubborn vampire to prove his affections.
It wasn't love, Fitz knew that much. It was bloodlust and regular lust and need, and that suited Fitz better. He would never understand love, but need -- he could understand that.
Alexander's breath hitched, and Lex thought it was desire, until he grasped at the wound on his shoulder. In the excitement, Fitz had almost forgotten about the crossbow bolt. He opened his mouth to ask, but the words died in his throat, as he found himself suddenly enthralled, thoughts scattering.
"The wound pains me, and a bit of blood would help me heal," he said. "I can't be this close to you without the urge overtaking me."
"Good," said Fitz, succumbing easily to the desire. He pushed his master's head gently to the space between neck and shoulder. "Take me, then. Drink from me. I'm all yours."
Alexander hummed, his lips pressed to Fitz's neck and his voice reverberating in his head, sending Fitz further into a dream of bliss. He barely felt the puncture, lying sprawled on the bathroom floor with his master on top of him, swimming in pleasure as his blood drained from his body. The feeding turned to soft nibbles at his jaw and his ear, and Fitz didn't care that his master's lips were stained with blood as he was pulled into a kiss.
"You should warm my bed tonight, Fitz," Alexander murmured into his ear.
Fitz raised his eyebrows. "Is that invitation what I think it is, sir…?"
"…if you're thinking of something lewd, I'm afraid not," said Alexander. "My… desires of that nature cooled along with my blood. I'm truly asking for you to warm my bed."
"So I can serve as a glorified hot water bottle as well as a bloodbag, is that right, sir?"
"No," said Alexander with painful sincerity. "You're much more than a bloodbag."
"And what else am I, sir?" said Fitz, looking up at his master, flashing his least trustworthy smile. "A brilliant entertainer? A scintillating conversationalist?"
"Fitz," said Alexander, placing a hand on his cheek and catching Fitz's eyes with his. "My Fitz."
"Your Fitz," he repeated, feeling mesmerized once more although he wasn't sure his master was actually doing anything. "I suppose I am, sir."
His master looked away. "You don't actually have to call me 'sir' or 'master', you know. It's fine if you don't."
Fitz grinned. "Oh, is that so, Alexander, sir?" The grin left his face as he realized what he'd just done. "Oh, damn that Miss Lily. I'm not going to be able to stop."
Alexander chuckled. "I don't really go by Alexander, anyway. Only my sire and strangers call me that. I go by Lex."
"Lex," repeated Fitz, leaning into his ear, "sir," he added, as seductively as possible, enjoying how his master -- no, Lex -- shivered.
Prev > Masterlist
Thanks for reading! Next week, Oliver gets some help from Lily.
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4)
Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 3900+
A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!
____________
Chapter 4:
Y/N's POV
It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery.
My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves.
Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity.
James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier.
Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…
Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news.
Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps.
Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?
So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.
And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line.
“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.
It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room.
“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-”
“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out.
He wasn’t a bad guy.
He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration.
Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep.
I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness.
But now?
“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life.
“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition.
“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.”
“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.”
“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”
He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me.
“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…
He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on.
I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.
This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did.
____________________
When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report.
Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine.
People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track.
Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others.
“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it.
Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps.
“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.”
She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me.
“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”
“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.”
“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”
“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned.
“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.”
“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.”
“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information.
I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”
She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”
“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.”
___________
After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue.
I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma.
I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.
Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home.
From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer.
I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky.
I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly.
“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him.
He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).
(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)
“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp.
“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne.
His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.
“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless.
I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly.
“What?”
“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice.
“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side.
A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger.
His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”
“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room.
“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.
Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me.
He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway.
_____________
Bucky’s POV:
I left her the fuck alone.
I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body.
I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…
I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake.
Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.
I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose.
“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together.
Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting.
“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury.
“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us.
I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality.
“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”
I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof.
“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.
“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.”
“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her.
She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me.
“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly.
“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.”
‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.”
“What do you even mean?”
“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious.
“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute.
“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back.
Touché.
“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question.
“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.
Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”
“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress.
“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well.
She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology.
“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”
“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms.
She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact.
She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.
Marvel Tags:
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#bucky barnes x avenger reader insert#bucky barnes x reader insert#bucky barnes mini series#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x avenger reader#justkending#marvel#marvel mini series#bucky barnes#Bucky Barnes
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