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jogetsobsessed · 3 months

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Picture Perfect - Edward Cullen

Standing in the kitchen you glanced through the open sliding glass door, a soft smile gracing your face as little giggles filled the air.

You were so happy, watching as your little girl bounced around the perfectly trimmed garden, your boyfriend watching her every move, laughing as she squealed when a ladybug landed on her forearm.

You hadn't realized it, but you had stopped preparing lunch for yourself and your daughter, floating over to the open door, leaning against the frame. Gazing out at your seemingly picture-perfect, all-American family.

Edward could feel your gaze, looking up and meeting your eyes. Even though you had only been together for a few years you had become experts at all things with each other. Even you would always argue that he had an unfair advantage in knowing everything about you. But you did your best, learning everything about him, being able to read his expressionless face and know his feelings, even though he never wanted to share.

After sharing a smile you turned and went back to finishing up lunch, eventually calling Edward and your daughter in. She reluctantly left the garden, only coming in after Edward did some major convincing. They sat together at the table, your daughter offering Edward some of her dinosaur-shaped cucumbers, which he as always politely declined.

Luckily she was still at an age where she didn't pick up on certain aspects of her everyday life, like the fact she had never actually shared a meal with her father. And you were grateful for that, not looking forward to the day that you have to have the dreaded conversation with her. Not only were you going to have to explain that the monsters in fairytales were real, but that her father wasn't hers biologically.

-----------

“Remind me when we go to the grocery store we need more bubble baths, we don't want the princess to freak out next time we promise her a bubble bath”. He laughed from his coveted spot on your shared bed. “We wouldn't want that to happen '', he chimed in, pulling the covers back as you climbed into bed.

“You know she loves you right”. Your question caught him off guard, the words coming out of your mouth before he could enter your thoughts.

“Where's this coming from”, Edwards' words were full of concern.

“I just, I don't know. I guess it's because while we were eating lunch I was thinking about the conversation I'm going to have with her in a few years. About you know, everything. About you and your family and Jeff.

“Y/N honey, you aren't going to have to go through that alone. I will be there every step of the way with you. Whether you like it or not, I am in your life Y/N”.

------------

Day had turned to night but you hadn't moved.

You sat on the damp grass, staring straight ahead. Your body ached from head to toe and your eyes were straining to stay open. The pounding headache causes your ears to ring.

It had been the worst week of your life.

You had been woken by someone pounding so hard on your door you thought they were gonna break it down. It was the middle of the night so after grabbing a steak knife from the block in the kitchen you made your way towards the front door. Sleepily you called out, praying that it was just your boyfriend and that he had left his key somewhere.

“Ma’am we are with the Clallam County Sheriff's Department, we need to speak with you”. It didn't take more convincing as you threw the door open, tears clouding your eyes before they could get a word in.

The second you heard the infamous, “we regret to inform you” line you collapsed on the ground, your body letting out sobs that could be heard from the next county over. The painted noise drew out the sound of the sheriff's deputies informing you that your boyfriend had been involved in a car accident, and he hadn't made it.

They had somehow managed to get you up from your spot anchored on the floor and moved you to the couch. One of them sat next to you, offering a comforting hand on your shoulder while the other asked if there was anyone they could call.

Unfortunately, they were pros at their job, and death notifications came as a part of that package. So they were experts at understanding people through howling sobs. So as you croaked out your best friend's name, the deputy stepped outside, grabbing your phone which lay on the coffee table.

Rosalie Hale broke just about every traffic law as she made it to your house in record time. She flew up the steps, almost forgetting to act as her human self. Rushing over to where you were still bawling she scooped you in her arms, attempting to comfort you.

Emmett, Carlisle, and Esme had followed behind the blonde after she sprinted out of their shared residence with no explanation. Then cops approached Carlisle after he stepped out of his vehicle, recognizing him due to their overlapping career paths.

“I didn't get to tell him”, you croaked out as your sobs turned to hiccups, still clutching onto Rosalie's ice-cold form.

--------------

You thought about that day often.

The day that started off being one of the best days of your life.

That was the day you found out you were pregnant. You had immediately called Rosalie and she had sat with you while you waited for the test to finish. And when you saw that the second line had appeared you cried happy tears as she brought you in for a sweet embrace.

Later on, you realized how hard that must have been for her. But everyone would admit, you having your daughter and Rosalie getting to act as her godmother was good for her. In the years since your daughter's birth Rosalie had softened, she had a new purpose in life and she took her role as the favorite aunt very seriously.

From that day the Cullen family as a whole brought you in.

You had been friends with Rosalie since they first moved back to Forks, the two of you instantly forming a lifelong friendship. The bond that the two of you shared led to the family sharing their secret with you. While it took a while to get used to the idea that you were friends with a vampire you were able to get ahold of all your emotions because you weren't going to let anything get in the way of your cherished friendship.

They supported you through your pregnancy, not letting you feel alone a single step of the way.

You appreciate all the help and support you did.

But deep down you knew that no love or support would ever begin to heal the aching in your heart. The aching that your child was going to grow up without a father. That your child was going to have to endure the unfair hardships that came with having a single mother.

That was until a certain someone began making himself present.

It had started as seemingly convenient situations.

The both of you coincidentally being the only ones in the living room late at night when you couldn't sleep, or running into each other on morning walks around the sleepy town you called home.

Slowly you opened up to him. Voicing the fears and concerns that plagued your brain. Allowing him to comfort you through your darkest time.

Honestly, you don't even remember when the friendship had crossed so many boundaries that it became a relationship. But at some point, Edward became stuck to your side like glue. He was there for every ache and pain, every craving. Caring for you unlike he had ever cared for anyone.

When your daughter eventually came, something in Edward changed.

He had been there for her birth, holding your hand as you squeezed it as your life depended on it. Sometime after your baby girl finally made her appearance he had slipped out of the room, becoming so overcome with emotions that he needed to be alone.

He was in love with you, he had been in love with you since the day Rosalie had invited you over. But you were dating Jeff when he first met you. And now you were his.

After some time the brain fog started to clear and you registered that he was no longer in the room. Asking Esme to go find him you relaxed once you heard his voice coming up the stairs.

Everyone had cleared out, wanting to give the two of you a moment alone.

Slowly he lowered himself next to where you lay, and if you weren't so tired you would have made fun of how stiff he was sitting. “There is someone I want you to meet”.

You had never seen him so scared as you lifted your bundled sleeping daughter from your chest and held her in front of him.

Carefully he took hold of her, terrified of hurting her. You almost burst into tears at the sight of the man you were falling in love with holding your newborn. He ran a finger over her soft cheek, in absolute awe of the tiny human. Reached down and admired her tiny hands, imagining what it would be like to be holding one of those tiny hands, walking her into her first day of kindergarten, or walking her down the aisle, her hand clutching his for support.

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed your daughter's hand slowly open and grip his finger that had lingered against her tiny, once-closed fist. “I think she likes you”, you laughed out, Edward letting out a necessary breath that he had been holding in. “I have a feeling she’s gonna have you wrapped around her little finger”.

-----------

Boy were you right.

From her first day on Earth Edward did everything in his power to make your daughter happy.

He was one of her favorite people on the planet, and she was one of his.

Edward had unspokenly assumed the role of “dad”, never having to ask if that was something he was okay with. Most people didn't even question it, you had been so early into your pregnancy when your boyfriend died that most assumed that your daughter was actually Edwards and that you had just moved on quickly. But what they didn't know wasn't going to hurt them. It was no one's business to understand the dynamics of your unique family.

----------

Waking up to your alarm was easy considering you hadn't fallen asleep.

Today was a big day in the Cullen household.

Sitting up you saw that you were the only one in the bed, which was abnormal. Quickly getting ready while trying to keep the tears at bay you got dressed and made the bed.

Walking through the hallways of the Cullen house you listened to see if your daughter was awake. Because for some reason she had been waking up at the crack of dawn for the past six months.

Which is when having an immortal father who never slept came in handy. Edward would hear her stir and slip out of bed, meeting her in the hallway as she tiptoed out of her bedroom. Always posing the question, “Why don't we let mommy sleep a little bit longer”.

Sure enough, you found the pair of them in the kitchen, Edward leaning across the island as your daughter shoveled precut bites of pancake into her mouth.

“Good morning beautiful”, his hands found their way home to your waist and his lips to yours. The sweet moment didn't last long as a chorus of “Ewwws” that came from your daughter and her uncle Emmett broke you out of your sweet moment. Edward rolled his eyes at his brother while you crossed the kitchen to say good morning to your daughter.

“Baby girl you need to hurry up and finish your breakfast, today is a big day and you gotta get ready”. Edward smiled at your words as he watched your daughter turn her attention away from the living room where the TV was playing the morning news and back to her pancakes.

After she had declared that she was all done you scooped her up to go and get her ready, the Cullen/Hale women joining you as they watched their precious girl get ready for such a big day.

--------

“Ok, I think we’re here”, Edward said to no one in particular as he pulled the car to a stop outside of the old worn-down buildings. His family pulled up in spots next to where you had been parked, none of them wanted to miss out on this monumental day.

You and Edward stepped out of the car, Edward grabbing your daughter out of the back seat, and helping her smooth out the pretty yellow dress that she had insisted on wearing.

Your boyfriend met you on the sidewalk, a proud smile on his face, he had been looking forward to this day for forever. “Ok baby, can you stand right here, we all wanna get some pictures of you pretty girl”, you cooed as you ushered her to stand in front of the same sign you stood in front of years and years ago.

Reluctantly she smiled, eventually getting into the pictures, laughing as her uncles made funny faces behind her aunts.

But after everyone put away their cameras and phones you saw her face drop. It was suddenly getting very real. A day that you and Edward had been preparing her for almost a year was here. She turned and looked at the front doors of the building before shoving the too-big backpack off her shoulders, shooting herself into her father's legs, wrapping her arms around.

“I'm scared”, she cried out. You moved to crouch down to her level, but Edward stopped you, his face reading that he had it handled. So you took a step back, joining Alice and Rosalie as Edward crouched down to his daughter's level.

“You have no reason to be scared honey-bee. We talked about this, it's just like pre-school except you're gonna be here a bit longer. But that means more time to make friends and you get to eat a really yummy lunch that Grandma Esme made”.

“But Daddy, you and Mommy aren't going to be here. I’m scared”. She clung to your boyfriend, gripping onto his jacket like she was trying to make sure he couldn't get away from her hold.

“My darling girl, I want you to listen. Take it from someone like me. I've been to a lot of schools``, he emphasized the word lot, which made the rest of you giggle, knowing that his version of a lot of schooling was much different than a normal kindergartener's parents' definition of a lot of schooling. “You are going to do perfectly fine. You are going to have so much fun. After school when Mommy and I pick you up you are going to tell us all about your day and then while you're telling us we can go and get ice cream, and eat it for dinner.

“Can I get extra pink sprinkles Daddy? '' she sniffled, lifting her head to look her father in the eyes. Your kid didn't play when it came to her sprinkles.

“Daddy will buy you all the pink sprinkles in the world if you ask him to”.

Slowly she stood up accepting the comforting hug that you were offering and allowing Edward to slip her backpack on her shoulders.

“Come on you big kindergartener, we don't want you to be late on your first day”, Edward exclaimed as he took your daughter's hand, you taking the other as the three of you marched into the school. Rosalie snapped a quick picture before they all left, whispering to Alice about how the three of you were the picture-perfect little family.

#edward cullen #fanfic #imprint #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #x reader #fem reader #sam uley #seth clearwater #jogetsobsessed #edward cullen x reader #twilight x reader #twilight fanfiction #twihard #ratties

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

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Hello! could I please request TR boys with a younger girlfriend?

Like, idk just make reader like us all, in our early twenties, messy, reckless, stubborn, bratty and smartass ... And they just like have that daddy's gonna punish you vibe 👀

Hmm can you make Ran, Wakasa, Kakucho... or anything you'll feel comfortable with ! ( Is it possible to add Kakashi and Itachi too ? Sorry it's a lot but I'm just curious about how they would act 😭 )

Thank you !

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Warning : 18+, minors DNI. Contains smut, boys have daddy kink, Reader is a brat, a smart mouth, a fuck girl in Ran's part, punishment, manhandling, brat taming, breeding kink, nicknames ( whore, slut, love, baby ), orgasm denial, bondage, voyeurism, and a lot of other things. Reader is independent, stubborn, drives them crazy.

Summary : I might have put a lot of myself in this reader lol, but I love this request somehow.

Ran, Wakasa,Kakucho, Takeomi, Mitsuya,Itachi, Kakashi.

“I PRECISE READER IS OF LEGAL AGE IN ALL OF THE FOLLOWING.”

Ran Haitani :

Ran is used to be a rolling stone. No, not the rock band. The meaning of, not a person to settle down. He just loved the power he held over his whores, and drank in the tears of them after leaving.

On top of his twenty-eight , dating you in your early twenties could make anyone think he held much power on you too.

Wrong.

And at times like this, buried deep inside the tightest cunt he's ever had, he comes to think you are the one who got the power.

-" Shit, angel " throwing his head back he grunt and dug his fingertips deeper in your hips. " Tiny puss' can barely take me in, let daddy fuck you "

Impressive, how of a whining mess you were above him, struggling to bounce on his length but still shook your head in a manner he found so... Cute.

Those older vixens at Bonten clubs got nothing on you,after all, right ? Why would they be able to ride him and not you ?

- " Uh uh, can take your cock, daddy. "

Such dirty words in your saccharine voice had his cock throbbing inside you, you rolled your hips against his and had his eyes rolling back.

-" Swear to fuckin' god... Pussy so good, can't- can't get enough... "

Ran Haitani deals with jealousy fits his girlfriends throw with a master's hand. Showering them under praises and priceless gifts to keep the pristine image a little bit longer until he has enough, hiding the other woman's perfume on him like the dead bodies he left behind him.

Never ever had he thought the tables would turn, and he would be served the dish he cooked himself.

-" Man, ain't that your bitch down there ?" The pink haired man gestured toward the coffee's outside tables.

Haruchiyo's words go in one ear and out the other, as if he hadn't noticed the smile dripping beam you were giving to that young man at your table, and Rindou had perfectly noticed his brother's knuckles turning white around the steering wheel.

-" Ran, it's green " he gestured toward the green light, and the many cars waiting behind them. But he was only seeing red.

A friend, you told him once, just a friend. But who better than him knows what that word can imply, when he used it so many times with his exes ?

No, Ran Haitani held no power on you, despite being older. He even came to think he would've wished to be younger, as much as that man at the coffee with you.

-" Ran, it's stupid. Open the damn door. "

Your voice fell to deaf ears, busying himself cleaning his gun on the sofa, he heard the quiet sound of your forehead resting against the wooden door.

That's it, get used to it. Because if himself couldn't get used, one of you two had to do it right ?

-" I'm gonna sue you for sequestration " you quietly warned, but only heard a scoff coming from his mouth.

-" Good luck with that " he lazily grinned toward your phone resting beside him, and practically was in a bliss when you let out an outraged sigh.

-" the hell... You can't keep me locked in your room forever, you know ?"

Choking on his pride, he couldn't believe he resorted to such actions. But it was all for that same pride, at the end of the day. Ran couldn't have you cheating on him, Ran Haitani is not one to be cuckold. No seriously, a dinner with a friend, past 10 p.m ? Who did you think you're fooling ?

Getting up from the sofa, he blew some warm air on his gun and threw it on the couch, before making his way to the bedroom door and sliding the key inside.

Being met by those doe-like eyes that sometimes makes him think gonna be the end of him, you let him run his calloused hand across your soft cheek's skin, his usual smirk on.

-" That's right, pretty baby. "

You honestly were not one to be scared, yet when he began approaching you until his long shadow towered completely above you, yes, yes you were scared.

-" Can't have you locked here forever. But " he grinned, closing the door gently behind him.

He had no warning signs dating you, thinking you would just be another notch in his belt. But now you were the melody that won't leave his head, and it was all your fault. Playing his fake love game better than him, who did you think you are ?

-" But I can stuff that pussy until you can't walk anymore. "

Slender fingers pushed you on the mattress, having you all sprawled for him with your skirt riding your thighs, your bare skin already waking up his lower parts.

-" So be a good girl and watch me stretch you real nice, yeah ?"

Wakasa Imaushi :

Just an iceberg, and sure not one to look for butterflies in the stomach at thirty-seven, no he was no looking for love, or for anything that would last.

Then you just stormed in... No it is not a figure of speech, you stormed in his life, and as the youngest drops of rain soaked him to the root, now he was all but breathing fresh air.

He should probably not, the age gap was impressive, let alone the fact that your two personalities had no middle to meet in, all the odds were against it.

But, to reiterate, you just came in. That's it, end of the story.

You, your loud laughter, your unfunny jokes and your hungry fists.

Shit happens, he told himself the first time, pressing your back against the desk of his office at the gym, bare chested as you looked at him with a wry smile at the corner of your glossy lips, slamming his hips against yours and smirking when your face contorted in pleasure and pain.

-" what is it ? Can't run that fuckin' mouth anymore now ?"

If he was not Wakasa Imaushi, he could have felt guilty seeing the tears in the corner of your eyes, as you struggled to even form words. But he knew better, feeling how you clenched around him with every mean word.

Shit happens, he told himself, the second time. Crossing arms behind his head while you tried steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. Lazy purple eyes burned with desire as they watched you rise and fall beautifully on his length. He swore he would not help you, thus having his arms resting behind his head but still was happy he gave you some instructions, getting even harder at how compliant you were.

-" Why ain't ya like that all the time f'me, huh ? " He titled his head, biting his lips to keep himself from leaning and kissing your swollen ones. " So fucking stubborn... Don't mind ruining this tight cunt everytime you're actin' like a brat though "

And from thinking, on top of his thirty-seven, nothing could phase him anymore, he found himself thinking it was a good thing that you were a regular at his gym. That way, he could not only enjoy how those sport leggings kissed your curves perfectly, but also to-discreetly- keep an eye on you.

Because even in your early twenties, it seems like you still walked in your teenage habits. Reckless, too damn reckless. Challenging some of his clients- free fighters twice your height and age.

And there you were again, in your pink sport leggings and bra, warming up to fight yet another opponent stronger than you. As careless as he seems, and considering you two never talked about the meaning of your hookups , last months playing cat and mouse had him... Worrying about you. He would not sit and watch your small brain being splattered on the floor.

-" I'm closing, dude. " He mumbled toward the opponent who was ready to fight you, that one frowned but you stepped in before he could say anything.

-" You never close up this early " you remarked, crossing your arms and he shamelessly eyed how your breasts slightly popped out as you did.

-" I said, I'm closing. Get out. "

The one who new better, the guy, quickly grabbed his belongings and nodded goodbye to his coach before leaving.

But the careless, reckless, fucking so full of herself one stayed, pouting child-like.

-" You don't want me to fight him" you concluded some seconds later, he put away some dumbbells left there and straightened, raising a brow toward you.

-" couldn't care less " he shrugged unbothered, but then you started walking toward him, too close for you own good and raised your head high.

-" Yes you do. You think I can't actually win. "

-" I don't think you can't win. I know you won't. Now go home. "

His hand reached for your shoulder, trying to shove you away but his eyes widened the slightest bit when you used that moment of inattentiveness to grab his arm and twist it.

-" You shall not underestimate me, Imaushi. Especially not when I can have your arm pinned in a heartbeat. "

He must admit, you're nimble, and slided behind him very fast. But little did you knew with that little strength of you, you just dug you own grave ?

-" Oh princess" you were surprised to hear, a low chuckle from him, for the first time. Dropping his lollypop on the floor, he freed himself from your grip with little to no force, and the white leopard has never been quicker to turn and meet your eyes. " You should never have done that... "

Wakasa indeed never thought he would bother with someone as young, as loud and annoying as you.

But at that moment, bending you over his desk, cock slamming your dripping hole with the stronger thrusts he's got in his back, he was glad he did.

-" Y'think you're such a big deal, huh ?" You cried out as another harsh thrust of him almost sent you, and the desk flying. " 'bout time someone teaches you a fuckin' lesson"

And he had no problem doing that, eyes blessed by the sight of your ass up and cunt dripping between your thighs.

-" Drivin' me outta my fucking mind with this pretty ass " his hand met the latter with a painful slap, you bit back a whimper but he smirked, still hearing the echo of it anyway. " Gotta tame you into the perfect slut for daddy. Mold this pussy to my cock, yeah baby ? "

Ah the youth... Always thinking they're so invincible. And somehow he knew the perfect way to make that cotton stuffed brain grow up a little.

-" I'mma fuck a child into this" you felt your high at reach while he tapped his fingers against your folds. " Amazin' pussy. See how you can fight, all round with my kids ?"

Kakucho Hitto :

Who was Kakucho but an outcast?

His whole life, had been lived between two wars, collecting scars, counting dying stars.

Although he had only lived in the darkness, his heart has always seemed homesick for light. Until you.

Months been spent trying to deny you, protect you from himself or whatever his guards were pretending.

But goddamn that head of yours was harder than any of the walls around his heart, though being a young adult, sometimes you acted just like a rebellious teenager.

Homesick for a home that didn't even existed, and he stopped moving from his spot, nothing to look for anymore.

Oh how could he stay at that same spot when you swept him off his feet like the tornado you came in ? The more he tried going against your winds the more he found himself struggling in the middle of your whirlwind.

So he removed the boards covering his windows and doors and let you in, you and your frivolity.

He discovered you couldn't help but laugh in critical situations, though looked at you with confused eyes the first time you burst in laughter because you nearly set the kitchen on fire.

And you smiled, god, you smiled for nothing. He suspected that you knew it flusters him everytime your glossy lips stretched in a bright smile and did it on purpose to make him lose control and lean in to kiss you.

He would always remember the first time he laughed in years, a real, light-hearted chuckle when he caught you talking to yourself through the mirror.

And oh, how could he forget that night ?

Kakucho frowned and turned his head toward you after hearing a muffled sound, he came to think you were asleep since you've been silent but his tired eyes met your pretty face and small mouth closing around your pillow.

-" Hey, angel, been having a nightmare ?" He asked as he moved closer to you, and his heart missed a beat seeing how your cheeks could grow beautifully warm, biting that seductive lip.

-" Uh... No, it's nothing, just something I was thinking about... "

After many investigations you confessed driving yourself to sleep by many cute fake scenarios you knew would never happen, and still you were eating your pillow at the thought.

What a brat... An incredibly beautiful, endearing brat.

And he wished he could have you by him more often, but you had your own life, own friends, and you had college, all he could do was to give you a spare key and hope for late nights where he would find you in his bed, something he wished would happen more frequently.

- " I don't get why Mikey makes you keep all the important files " Haruchiyo grunt, meanwhile Kakucho slided the key inside the lock.

-" cause last time he made you keep the paperwork you used it to sniff your coke " Rindou shrugged next to his brother, all waiting for Kakucho to give them their assigned paperworks.

But he knew something was wrong the minute he opened the door and loud music came to their ears.

The three boys couldn't keep their laughter hearing a young girl's voice coming from the kitchen.

How could he forgot your habit of singing along with the loud music ?

Though crimson red painted his cheeks, his heart beat faster knowing that you were there, he would have you beside him that night, what was strange itself knowing it was a weekday.

-" Ya know what ? I'll bring it to the headquarters tomorrow, you guys just go home " he hurriedly tried pushing Haruchiyo out of the door who struggled to contain his laughter, and as Ran was about to mock him, his jaw fell down and his gaze drifted behind Kakucho.

-" Kaku ? Daddy you finally home, I made dinne-"

Nothing, nothing could've prepared him for what waited for him. You knew how much he missed you because of your daily schedule, and you knew his ache for a home he could go to after a tiring day.

What essentially led you to his kitchen, cooking a meal for your lover, wearing nothing but a sexy maid apron.

- " Holy shit... "

-" Oh god-" that was not your Kakucho's voice, there were four men in the living room, all wide eyes taking in every sinfully exposed curve of you under the only piece of fabric you were wearing. Shame quickly assaulted you and it was only after you quickly turned around to leave that you remembered.

It was an apron, it has no fabric in the back.

-" Okay so see you tomorrow ! " his hands were harsher than he expected it as he started pushing all of them outside, the one with the purple mullet who's eyes never left your body by the way mumbled.

-" But- but she made dinner-"

-"out. "

He needed no more than that cold stone tone for them to oblige, though they never felt more disappointed to skip paperwork.

- " dadd- Kakucho... ?" Your small voice filled the living room, whilst your lover was facing you with his tense back, you could practically feel the heat radiate from him.

Even the day you learned he was a Yakuza haven't you been that scared of him.

-" Enjoy havin' my subordinates drooling over ya, huh ?"

You whined, trying to press your dripping cunt against his lips only inches away from it, but the ties around your wrists were keeping you hanging on the bedframe.

-" Kaku, you know that's not wh- Oh god ! " A high pitched moan escaped your throat at the feeling of his teeth grazing your throbbing clit, Kakucho tightened his grip around your hips, he felt guilty to think he would gladly snap a picture of his fingerprints on your soft skin, later.

-" What did you just called me ?"

-" Ngh, Daddy... Daddy please " you curled yourself tighter against him, had him chuckling deeper into you.

Yes, though he would rather have died than letting his co-workers see what's his, he still was blessed with the domestic feeling of you waiting for him at home. He caught himself thinking he might get used to it.

-" angel, d'ya have the slightest idea of what you did ?" You shook your head desperately, under the soft warm breath he was blowing on your cunt. " Probably got them all pumping their cocks wishing it was this little pussy"

His gaze darkened, seeing how more drops of your arousal were seeping on his bedsheets and hearing your breath hitching, he cupped your pussy into one hand and had you crying out loud.

-" What a naughty girl I have, hate that I have to do but gotta make them see me eating this pussy of mine. Make them losers hear the pretty sounds you make for daddy, yeah ? "

Your eyes widened and a strangled " Kakucho" left your lips, he stretched his hand and reached for the phone, opening the camera and angling it just the right way so they could only see his naked back.

-" But worry not, pretty girl. Won't let them have a single fucking look of this princess' body. Never again. "

Takeomi Akashi :

He warned you. Yes he was a player, but a fair one. He told you not to fall in love, to keep your heart out of your vagina.

But honestly ? He should've saved those words for himself, he probably needed them more than you did.

Because you didn't even started playing back and he was already head over heels for you, something that never happened to him before.

He could curse the day he met you at their club during one of your girl's night, or he could curse every feature of your pretty face, in the end it was the same, he just can't seem to get you out of his head.

It's been pretty weird for him at first to date you as you were almost half his age, he only had his fair amount of mature women and never thought he'd end up with a baby. Because that's what you were, a brat.

A pretty, over independent brat.

Sometimes he caught himself thinking he was babysitting you, he honestly saw no difference between the behavior his younger siblings used to have and yours. Stubborn, head in the clouds, trying every forbidden way to upset him it seems. And the worst in that ? No strings attached, he had nothing that could keep you grounded.

No matter how much money he would offer, "I need my own money not yours". And no matter how pretty was the jewelry he bought, at the end of the day it would return to his pocket because " why do you even buy things for me it's not my birthday".

You made it pretty clear, he was there because you wanted him to, not because you needed him. And what was he supposed to do with those crumbs when a bunch of young and handsome men were ready to steal you from him ?

Though it was exhausting, to be constantly checking your wandering eyes, he could just not let go.

Who would wake him up in the morning with the hairdryer's sound ? Accidentally burn the pancakes and say " good thing, you just took a step back from diabetes"?

who would surprise him at the meeting with some nudes taken in the college's bathroom ?

too much for his game, you were a witch.

And he really doesn't know why he keeps bringing you to external meetings with their partners at their clubs, since it's one from the only few times he'd be stressing. With so many eyes on what's his, how much more time left before it was not his anymore ?

-" I don't care how you do that" Koko snapped at Ran over the loud music. " Hire prettier girls, create special offers or whatever. The whorehouses aren't working enough these days and Mikey... "

And there it goes again, same conversations, same men with the same girl's on their laps. With a sighing mind, you watched your boyfriend reach for a cigarette in his pocket, but he barely had anytime to put it in his mouth before you snatched it away and brought it to yours, smiling like a kid.

He arched a brow toward you, since when did you even smoke ? Then rolled his eyes noticing Ran, Rindou and Mucho all taking out their lighters to do it for you. That was his routine.

-" Here ya go, love " he heard Rindou whispering as he lit it up for you, being the closest one to you and his hand around your hip tightened seeing the way the Haitani eyed your smiling lips.

Conversation kept going around the same boring problem until you were bored of hearing their words in the back of your head like a broken record.

-" It's not even such a big deal. " Your soft voice brought all of their eyes to you. " Nobody goes to whorehouses anymore. Except, maybe old men. " You winced seeing most of them, and their girls raising their eyebrows. " No offense... "

-" sweetheart you-"

-" focus on my words instead of what's in your pants. " You interrupted Ran the same way he did to you, and rolled your eyes at his smirk. " People nowadays want to see, the thrill of watching something you can never have. Once you get it, it all vanishes away. Get all your girls an onlyfan, and thank me later. "

And though most of them were not into smart mouths, Takeomi could clearly see the interest sparkling in all of their eyes. His throat tightened as Kokonoi leaned over the table, closer to your face.

-" You, are really something else... Ain't ya, precious ?"

Takeomi hated it. And you. And that cursed little smirk curling your perfect lips.

-" 'bout ten fucking bitches there, all keeping it silent. But you, you had to run it again, obviously ?"

His low voice was laced with venom while his hands tightened on the steering wheel, you couldn't hear the end of it in your way home and your head ached from all his reproaches.

-" but I'm not your bitch and you know what ?" You scoffed earnings a side eye glare from him. "Drop me here. Consider from now on I'm not your problem anymore, so I can't embarrass you. "

He would've liked to ignore that foreign tingle in his chest hearing your words...

-" Watch your fucking mouth. "

And although he never took such a scary tone with you, you swallowed your stress and muttered.

-" I only wanted a good fuck, not another father... "

Not even have you finished your words that the car did a great spin, ripping a small scream out of you while he hit the brakes and parked in the middle of the dark empty road.

-" Repeat that f'me, would'ya ?"

-" Oh fuck, slow- slow down ! I... Omi !"

-" Wanted a good fuck, right ?" He grunt, hips smashing against yours and you honestly couldn't even tell how you both found yourself on the backseat. Your words might have somehow switched something inside him, force him to manhandle you like he has always been afraid to do.

- " Y'better take my cock like a good little whore, fuck- should've shut you up this way. Jus' fucked you dumb in front of em "

His filthy words tightened the knot in your lower belly, walls spasming around him had him growling and throwing his head back in bliss.

-" this pussy's my addiction. Goddamn- tell me how... The hell 'm a supposed to let'ya go ?"

-" Close... So fuckin' close daddy" you ignored his words and let more tears slip from your eyes while he pounded relentlessly into you, a bruising hold on your breasts.

-" Look at you, practically begging to be put in your place, m'baby such a brat, gotta tame ya into my perfect wifey, would'ya lemme ?"

-" Yeah ? What 'bout I stuff this lil pretty pussy 'f my cum, would my pretty girl take daddy in ?"

Mitsuya Takashi :

He knows it, you know it, and he wouldn't even try to deny.

He has a huge daddy kink.

But you really were the one to trigger it, because he was now a twenty seven fashion designer and he was supposed to be so far from those years where he had to take care of his baby sisters.

Supposed. Because everything in you just brought that protective side of him, your careless nature, he couldn't help but take your hand in his everytime you'd cross a road.

Your lightheaded oversight, sweet morning cooking for you but you wake up late to college and forget to take breakfast...

The mess you left behind you, pink pom pom pen all over his desk, and he'd never forget the blush on Hakkai's face when he found your lace panties on the couch during a visit to his friend's house...

And despite all those adorable flaws he loved so much on you, you always insisted on carrying yourself on your own. Always preventing him from paying things for you, refusing to let him help you with anything.

No, I can hold that, it's not heavy.

Bitch, it's twice your weight...

It doesn't matter, because every detail of you, he fell for it. Even that stubborn head of yours.

Well, there was times where he just couldn't take it anymore. Like all those times he asked to make sure you were eating enough and having enough sleep during your college exams, and you assured everything was fine.

No it really was not, he concluded, seeing you when he came back from his business trip, noticing how your cheeks deepened, how could you even pretend you could take care of yourself when you overworked yourself that much ?

-" Looks like you even need my help to eat, princess... "

Teary doe-like eyes stared up at him, the ground leaving kisses on your knees whilst his hand had a bruising hold on your hair.

His tip hit the back of your throat relentlessly, Mitsuya never been that rough with you but you wouldn't just listen, you needed a punishment right ?

-" Shit, only obedient for ma cock... Then take it like the fuckin' slut you are "

Those new sharp edges he was displaying were turning you on, your juices dripping between your legs since he made sure to strip you before making you gag around his length. Your clit was throbbing,aching for some release but your hands have been tied behind your back by his necktie, preventing you from any possible pleasure.

He saw the tears forming in the corner of your eyes though you closed them so he would not see your despair, he smirked.

-" Thought- fuck, just this way baby... Thought you don't need my help ? Now look at you drippin' on my floor, where's the independence, love ?"

You opened your eyes and narrowed them at him, sending a fierce glare that only made his cock throb in your throat. You vengefully hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue around him, highlighting his pleasure until he was throwing his head back.

-" So fuckin' good " a strangled chuckle escaped his mouth seeing you pressing your thighs together. " Say the words, love. Tell me how much this pretty pussy needs my cock, and I'll give you the fuck of your life "

So stubborn... he thought, whilst you locked gaze with him and tried taking him deeper, proving he needed you more than you did.

And maybe you were right, but that's not what he wanted to hear.

Takashi pulled your hair tighter, the tingling only making your walls clench around nothing and elicit a strangled sob from you. Desperate saccharine voice had him coming undone with no warning in your throat, and he rode his high watching you swallow every drop of him.

-" M'baby, understand that if I need to feed you myself, I would. " He whispered, with his hand still holding your hair as you let go of his dick with a loud pop.

-" Taka', can't no more " you straddled him on the couch, freeing yourself from the tie and wrapping your hands around his neck. " Please, make me cum, please, please, I need you daddy, please... "

Although he told himself he would make you suffer longer, your teary eyes and wet lashes, the desperate way you were rubbing your entrance against him had him in a chokehold. He was just a sucker for you...

-" Shhh, it's okay baby. Gonna take care of my pretty girl"

Soon enough, he was lowering you on him, stretching you to no end while you already started crying his name, a meer attempt to ride him and take control again.

You would never change... He noted in a smile.

-" See ? All you had to do was to be a good girl, was it really that hard ? "

-" Or do you just love it when I use you like a cum slut, baby ?"

Kakashi Hatake :

Somehow you never felt enough, not even once.

He was so much older and wiser, stronger and needed. You painted yourself in your brightest colors, poured yourself into being the best medic nin you could be. Yet it was never enough.

Only the sky would ever know that was all in your head.

Kakashi had another way to see it, to see you. When he looked in your eyes he saw no age gap, no insecurities, just the little woman who broke the walls of monotony around him.

The one with a smart mouth, who wouldn't just shut up. The one to say the things no one else would say, putting him back in his place when his feet would start floating too far from the ground.

He wishes he could just forget about those sarcastic lips of yours, and the life still blindingly glimmering in your young eyes.

But his hell already knew a rainy day, and you brought him out of that numbing shell. Making his heart beat faster, whether because of your cute laughter or your unnerving recklessness, all he knew was that it's been only months still he couldn't keep the cold facade anymore around you.

-" I'm just... Exhausted "

You finally agreed to let the words out, after days of being silent. Something that frustrated him more than it should have, he might just be missing your consistent loud mouth...

- " You're... Fucking amazing, and I'm proud of you "

He never thought he'd be bothered by your smile, but that one was ripped of any joy...

-" But I just feels like a kid waiting by the door.« Don't do that, don't talk so loud, don't walk like that»... " You mimicked the words of the villagers. " «You're a Hokage's future's wife» , oh and all the « and why ain't you married yet ? »" You scoffed. " Like it's not been just few months since we're dating. "

Kakashi sighed loudly, resting his mask and the book he was reading on his desk.

-" and I sound dramatic. And you despise drama but... I just want someone to love me for who I am, not for what... They could make of me. "

He could see you felt self-conscious from opening your heart to him, considering you too were a stranger to releasing what's in your mind and he felt his chest aching for the woman who's been sharing his bed, dreams and living rent free in his mind for the last months.

Kakashi pushed the chair he was sitting in a little back, then slowly patted his lap.

-"enough. C'mere. "

He couldn't believe you'd let their words get under your skin, your so perfect skin, all in display in his lap as he was bouncing his thigh against your swollen clit.

-" That's it, moan my name, baby. Only you can do it "

-" 'Kashi, more please " you begged, hands on his shoulders and how could he refuse you anything ? He was already painfully hard and constricted in those pants, and still all he could yearn for was your own pleasured face beautifully contorting.

-" Oh shit, m'love came pretty hard " he chuckled, few minutes later as you came undone staining his pants, light head on his shoulder but he really didn't care.

Because soon those clothes found their way next to yours on the ground, and as your walls clothed him in, he just couldn't understand.

How could you even doubt yourself ?

-" You fill me up, so good " your moan sounded more like a sob, which made him softly grin and press feverish kisses to your neck.

-" Now you gotta take all of me like my good little slut, is it okay ?"

Your eyes widened with the harsh thrust coming after those words, thinking he would take it slowly for once but his grunts in your ears and the fingers digging in your hips told you otherwise.

-" Yeah you will. Bet my pretty girl's gon' lemme fuck the insecurities outta her "

-" I... I will, oh shit, I will, 'kashi !"

The stubborn one who would only obey when his cock would stretch her out, how couldn't he be obsessed ?

-" That's a good fuckin' girl. Now let daddy make you feel how deep he could love you "

Kakashi was a man of his words, and he promised...

If the village wanted so much to meddle in their Hokage's household, he would make sure to let them hear how good his best girl takes him behind closed doors.

Itachi Uchiha :

Here is a boy who never even considered having some happiness, let alone find love.

Itachi Uchiha is the worst of his enemies, all those arrows in his heart, his mind was the archer of them.

He would probably not be able to tell when it started.

Lingering stares, whispered words

But that, he was not waiting for its ending.

First cry of the newborn crepuscule, the dewy scent of the morning will tell him it's time to go, but the warmth of your hips under his fingers beside him on the bed mimicked the feeling of a home he lost since decades.

Head on the pillow, you could feel him sneaking in almost every night , and he could see you smiling but for some reason you pretended to be asleep.

And he painted you larger than life, because his chest weighted tons of blue ice but you painted him golden. Spark of a fire your love has lit up in him so immense that his demons caught fire.

-" Show me " you whispered, fingertips grazing his eyelashes.

His eyes held the tales of thousand horror legends, but you were seeking to see them as if they were your fairytale.

-" No way. " He replied, lying on his side next to you yet again.

Tantrums, you were so childish but you had your ways to get what you wanted, and they were all but innocent.

You rolled on top of him, making him instantly lay on his back and with a pout he found distracting, began rolling your clothed pussy against the growing bulge in his pants.

- " 'Tachi please " you whined, and he had to close his eyes not to give in, the friction you were giving along with the sight of your hardening nipples under your top nearly making him lose control. Him. The one who never lost control.

-" Stop. "

Red, was the trail his fingertips left on your hips to stop you.

Red, was the fire burning in his lower abdomen.

Red, was the way his eyes shone in the dark when he opened them again to face you with his Sharingan you oh so wanted to see.

Itachi was fascinating to you, and he thrived into the star-studded stare your eyes would give everytime he would do the most trivial thing.

Sometimes you really reminded him of Sasuke, how proud he was of his big brother, long ago. And he couldn't help the need to take care of you like he wished he could've done for his brother.

You were reckless, after all. Young, a danger for your own self and never listened. He spent every minute next to you caring, and every one away from you worrying.

Maybe you knew that, and maybe you used it to see more of him.

Nights where you lived were when the devils would go out, stronger men twice your height would be afraid to be outside at such an unholy hour, but you...

You in your veil white dress, angel tempting the devils outside

Angel tempting his devils inside.

-" what's the crying for, my love ?" His voice echoed through the blinding red.

Red, red everywhere.

-" Isn't it what you wanted ? M'dirty little girl, yeah you did. "

Itachi, itachi everywhere.

Itachi's hands holding yours pinned to the bed, Itachi's cock deep down in your throat, Itachi's mouth closing around your breast.

But through all the clones you knew, the one bullying your cervix with each thrust was none other than Itachi. The real one.

-" Told ya not to go out so late alone, haven't I?"

It was overwhelming, the fire in your guts blinding you to everything, the tsukuyomi only amplifying all the feels whilst Itachi rolled his hips against yours.

-" Did you really needed this to understand, love ? My cock splitting you in half like a whore ?"

You mumbled some incomprehensible words around Itachi's clone's length, and a deep groan reverberated through the crumbling down walls of the genjutsu.

-" Goddamn- baby, pussy clenchin' around me real good... You like it when I do this t'you, don't you ?"

Another spasm of your walls around him was the answer, he knew he didn't deserved that image, pretty face of yours crying in pleasure under the many Itachi's worshipping your goddess's body.

-" love, if I knew... You were such a slut, would've took that pussy 'til your pretty legs can't move sooner "

But you were there, wrapping him in your angelical aura like he was not soaked with blood to the brim.

-" Shhh, don't worry. Still got so many time in my hands to fuck the insolence outta you, baby."

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

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joshkiszkasears · 8 months

Text

In Every Life | JMK

| Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

| 4.7k Words

| 18+ only! Minors do not interact

| Warnings: 18+, smut, drinking, language, fluff, angst, praise kink, oral sex (m + f), penetrative sex. Let me know if I missed anything!

“You’re sure it’s not too much?” you ask fussing with the bottom of the dress he had picked out for you.

“It’s perfect,” he says, turning you to face him, “I knew this little number would look stunning. It’s my favorite color on you.”

You smile weakly and take a deep breath in to calm your nerves. This was your first time going to a semi public event together. You’d been dating for a couple years but Josh—much like his twin—had wanted to keep your relationship for just the two of you. Of course your close family and friends knew and you went out together but you two knew there was a very real possibility this would be the first time you would be romantically linked in the public eye. Covid had made it easy for your relationship to be just that, yours. Of course there had been rumors here and there of Josh’s secret girlfriend. Mainly just grainy photos of you walking back to the tour bus with him or posts about seeing Josh with some girl at a restaurant, but nothing that had ever gained any traction. Up until now, you had maintained your anonymity and you liked it that way. You loved your little bubble. It felt safe. But you knew tonight there would be lots of people and cameras there and that the perfect serene secret of your relationship was about to be out in the open. No longer just yours and Josh’s. To say you were terrified was an understatement.

You knew how much he loved you but you were so scared this would somehow change things. Sensing your anxiety, Josh slides his hands down your bare arms, stopping at your hands and interlacing his fingers through yours. He looks at you breathing in a deep breath and urges you to do the same. You take a deep breath in mirroring his and breathe out together. You find your nerves starting to melt. You take another together and he wraps his arms around you squeezing you slightly. The perfect amount of pressure to make you feel safe.

He pulls away, “So… what you’re not gonna tell me how good I look?” he chuckles with a twirl trying to lighten the mood. “You look incredible, babe. I think this is one of your best looks yet.” you reply, straightening his jacket. And you meant it. The chocolate brown suit he’d designed pairs perfectly with his cream turtleneck and he looks absolutely delectable but you’ll save those comments for later.

“Okay pretty lady, you ready to do this thing?” he asks with a toothy grin. “As I’ll ever be,” you let out a nervous chuckle. He kisses your forehead and leads you downstairs where your car is waiting.

You arrive at the wedding fifteen minutes before it starts. Just long enough to meet up with the other guys and their dates. Jita greets you first with a hug and compliments your dress. She reaches down and gives your hand a soft squeeze. A silent acknowledgment that she knows how you’re feeling. You greet everyone else with hugs and head inside the venue to find a seat. You all take your seats and your leg immediately starts bouncing, a nervous tic that happens subconsciously. Josh reaches over and grabs your hand rubbing small circles with his thumb. He’s always so attentive and knows just how to ground you right when you’re starting to spiral. You smile softly and there’s a change in music signaling the wedding was beginning.

The ceremony was beautiful. The couple's vows were sweet and sincere. And your face got red hot when the newlyweds were heading down the aisle and Josh leaned over to tell you how beautiful you would look in a wedding gown. The officiant announced that the couple wanted all of you to enjoy a cocktail hour before the reception started. Your group got up and joined the crowd of people headed to the cocktail hour. On your way you chatted with Jita and Hannah about how lovely the wedding had been and talked about how pretty the bride's dress was. Once you’d arrived at the cocktail hour you all claimed a pub table to stand around.

“Your usual?” Josh asked. You smiled and nodded “Yes please!” The guys wandered off to the bar and found their way back to the table faster than you’d expected with drinks in hand. “Here you go pretty girl,” Josh hands you your drink with a smile and a wink. You love the way he makes you blush with the simplest words and gestures. You sip your drink as conversation flows and before you realize it you’ve reached the bottom of your glass. Josh’s cup has also run empty. You notice and ask him if he wants to make another trip to the bar. He nods and reaches an arm around your waist and kisses your bare shoulder before he starts leading you towards the bar.

Once you’ve entered into a crowd of people and you two are out of the group's sight, Josh leans over and whispers in your ear. “What do you say we step out and get a little bit of fresh air?” You’re not sure whether it’s the tone he uses or the way his lips are grazing the shell of your ear but the question has sent a jolt of energy through your body. “Mmmm” you nod.

He uses his grip around your waist to guide you towards the door. You enter into a long hallway that’s surprisingly empty considering the party that’s raging on just on the other side of the wall. You walk down the hallway a bit before Josh removes his arm and turns his body to face you. “You know how good you look tonight? So perfect for me,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. That familiar warmth comes rushing back to your cheeks. You look down embarrassed by how quickly his words are unraveling you. “Look at me sweet girl,” he uses a finger to lightly pull your chin up as he steps closer to you, “Want you to look at me, know that I mean it.” You nod. “And I do mean it,” he continues “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you. A whole spectacle going on but I couldn’t focus on anything but you.”

You gasp when your back hits the wall behind you. You hadn’t noticed that you’d been slowly shuffling backwards as he’d been moving to close the space between the two of you. You’d run out of space to move and Josh had you trapped now. One of his hands making its way to the small of your back and the other reaching up, capturing your chin between his first two fingers as he pulled you into a kiss. It was gentle the same way all his kisses started out. And then slowly you felt his tongue sliding across your lips asking for permission. You parted your lips granting him access and then your tongues met, beginning to do their familiar dance. The kiss quickly became hungry and full of wanting. You notice an aching starting to grow between your legs as Josh pulls you closer into himself. One of his legs sliding between yours. You let out a quiet moan when his leg grazes your heat.

Josh pulls away and lets out a soft chuckle. You whine at the loss of his lips against yours. “My sweet girl is so needy isn’t she. Moaning right here for me in public. Bet you’d let me have you right here if I wanted, wouldn’t you? I promise I’ll take good care of you when we get home.”

Wrapping your hands around the lapel of his blazer you pull him back into a kiss. “Need you right now” you breathe against his mouth.

He lets out a groan. “Oh mama, don’t tempt me.”

Before you know what your body is doing you’ve grabbed his hand and you’re leading him down the hallway toward the bathroom you saw when you had entered the venue. You put your ear against the door of the men’s restroom. “What are you doing?” Josh asks. “Shhh.” You whisper.

After listening for a second and hearing nothing on the other side of the door. You grab Josh’s hand and pull him into the bathroom. Walking down the long bathroom you lead him into the last stall and silently thank your lucky stars the stalls have floor to ceiling walls and are more spacious than a typical bathroom stall. You lock the stall behind you and spin Josh until his back is against the stall door. You reach down for the button of his trousers and look up at him silently asking if this was okay. He sees your hesitation and nods, licking his lips at the sight of you so desperate for him. You look down and finally notice the large imprint his cock is making against his pants. You make quick work unbuttoning his pants and freeing him from his boxers before dropping to your knees. Looking up at him through your lashes before licking a stripe from the base of his cock up to his tip. His breath hitches. “Gonna have to make this quick mama, don’t want them to come looking for us.” In response you take him until he hits the back of your throat. He lets out an airy moan. You begin working his length at just the right pace using your hands to work the portions that won’t fit in your mouth. Slow at first but then picking up the pace just how you know he likes it. You know his body so well by now that you’ve got him close without even realizing it.

Reaching his hands down he weaves his fingers delicately through your hair applying light pressure to the back of your head and then finding his rhythm, he starts bucking his hips into your face fucking your mouth. You feel tears starting to sting the corners of your eyes. “My girl is doing so good for me,” he says looking down at you. “Look so pretty choking on me.” Never missing a beat, he moves one of his hands from the back of your head reaching down to wipe a tear that had escaped. He moans a string of expletives and you can tell he’s approaching his climax from his leg muscles starting to tense, and his cock twitching in your mouth. You flatten your tongue and move ever so slightly sending him over the edge. You feel his familiar warmth rushing down the back of your throat sucking all of it down, not wasting a single drop. You let him finish and then slowly let his cock fall out of your mouth with a pop.

He slips himself back into his boxers and pants and begins to button his trousers. “Wow… that was…” he trails off. “Hot,” you say standing up finishing his sentence with a smirk. “Yeah,” Josh lets out a breathy laugh. “Wanna taste you later, mama,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Will you let me do that? Be a sweet girl and let me have you? Let me take my time with you?” The way he speaks to you is intoxicating. “Yes please” you say, nodding your head quickly.

With another quick kiss on your cheek, Josh exits the stall and then the bathroom making sure the coast is clear for you two to sneak back out. He motions to you that you’re good and you stop in front of the mirror to quickly smooth down your hair and reapply your lip gloss. You exit the restroom and you straighten Josh’s jacket and give each other a one over to make sure there’s no evidence of what just occurred. After you’re both satisfied, you start back towards the party, Josh’s arm wraps around you starting at your shoulder his hand gently slides down until it reaches the small of your back where it had been there all night.

After making a quick stop at the bar to grab the drinks you were supposed to be getting the entire time you make your way back to your table. “Wow, the bar must have been super busy when you guys went up there. Super weird I didn’t see you when I was going to get ours.” Sam says with a teasing tone raising his glass in your direction. You feel yourself starting to blush. Josh clears his throat to explain himself when a loud voice booms over the speakers “The couple would love for you to come celebrate with them at the reception. Please make your way to the ballroom.” Saved by the bell, you think.

Once again the group joins in as a herd of people migrates to the ballroom. You all get your table number and find your way to the table. You sit down and chat enjoying each others company. You find yourself immersed in a side conversation with Jita for most of the night. You were so grateful for how well you got along with Jake’s partner. Meeting Jake and Jita had been the most nerve wracking part of you and Josh’s relationship. You knew how much it meant to Josh that you get along well with them. He had always seen Jake as quite literally an extension of himself and Jita, well she had become family at that point. You were thankful for how easily conversation flowed between the two of you and that you connected so easily.

The night carried on and at one point you look up to see Josh has gotten a glow stick and is dancing around with it. His dance moves somehow resemble that of both a child and an elderly person simultaneously. You let out a snort laugh watching him dance. He is pure sunshine in human form and you love to see him being goofy and having fun. The duality of your partner is something you will never be able to adequately express your appreciation for. His ability to be both the lightest goofiest person you know and somehow still be the most alluring sexy person is such a mystery but he somehow does it with ease.

He pulls you out of the dance floor and you erupt into giggles as he takes your arms and swings them with his, trying to will your body into mimicking his moves. You stay out on the dance floor for a bit. Long enough for the lights to lower and the music to slow down. Josh pulls you into slow dance. You feel hesitant, for some reason having him hold you like that on the dance floor felt vulnerable. All night you’d been off to the side when showing affection. Now you were in the center of the room and while there were several other couples on the dance floor as well, you felt exposed somehow. Sensing your hesitation, Josh pulls you in tighter. He leans in close “Let them look,” he says in a hushed tone.

You let yourself relax into his embrace and enjoy this moment. Throughout the duration of your dance Josh is whispering sweet nothings to you. At one point he was whispering what he had planned for you later in the evening and you felt a blush creeping across your face and the aching between your legs grow stronger. He had this way of making everything melt away. The sounds of people clapping for the band as the song ends rips you back to reality. Josh takes your hand and guides you back to your table. As you guys take your seats back at the table Josh places his hand dangerously high on your thigh. You feel yourself tense up under his touch. You need him, you’ve needed him all night. Sensing this, Josh squeezes your thigh and rises from the table. It was late enough in the evening that it felt like an appropriate time to head out. You and Josh make your rounds saying goodbye to all your friends and stopping to congratulate the couple one last time.

The ride home is torturous. Josh’s hand draws lazy patterns on your upper thigh. At one point he slides his hand up under the hem of your dress and starts to inch his way up your thigh. You clench around nothing and shift in your seat searching for any kind of relief you can get. He moves his hand back down your thigh and you whine. “Patience, sweet girl. You know I’ll take care of you when we get home.” Josh laughs softly.

You finally pull into the driveway and you’re practically falling over yourself trying to get inside as fast as possible. You get through the door after fumbling with your keys to unlock it. Josh rushes in after you and closes the door behind the two of you.

His hands immediately find your hips, he spins you around until your back hits the door and the breath is momentarily knocked out of your chest. He presses his body into yours and grabs your left leg hitching it over his hip. He then takes his hand under your chin to lift your head to the side exposing your neck. Josh trails wet sloppy kisses down your neck. Fighting for any sense of control you reach down and palm at his dick through his pants. He sucks in hard through his teeth and grabs both your wrists pinning them against the door behind you, reminding you who is actually running the show. He continues hungrily kissing down your neck leaving love marks as he goes. One of Josh’s favorite things was marking you up and leaving you reminders of whose you were.

Josh trails his mouth back up to meet yours and releases your arms to fall back to your side. He lifts your leg bringing it back down to the ground. He then uses both of his arms to wrap around your waist and start guiding you both back towards the bedroom. The two of you fumble your way down the hallway just a mess of tangled limbs never letting your mouths separate.

Once you reach the bedroom he pats to feel the bed behind him and spins you around to lay you on your back. “My turn to take care of you now,” he says softly. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the chair next to your bed. Josh then drops to his knees in front of you and makes quick work taking off your shoes and starts kissing up your legs. He’s going agonizingly slow and keeping true to his word, he was definitely taking his time.

He starts to bunch your dress up loosely around your hips and ghosts his face right above your center. You buck your hips slightly looking for any form of friction. He chuckles softly to himself, “Needy tonight are we?” You groan back to him, “Mhmmm please Josh, need you so bad.”

He rewards your begging by hooking two fingers into your underwear and pulling them off. He slips a single digit into your heat and lets out a small moan. “So wet for me already mama. Need to taste you, can I taste you?” You nod your head quickly. “Need to hear you. Want to hear you ask for it,” he purrs. “Please Josh, please I need it, need your mouth, please please please,” you quickly slur out. You don’t even care how absolutely desperate and fucked out you sound, you needed him and you knew he was getting off hearing you beg.

“That’s my girl,” he looks up at you, “look so pretty like this for me. Want to make you feel good, can I make my pretty girl feel good?” he smirks. He’s having too much fun toying with you. “Please Josh.” you plead. Finally, he sinks down, connecting with your center. His tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit where he starts to lick lazy circles.

“Need more,” you manage to choke out. He slips another finger in and sucks your clit into his mouth. Moving his digits in and out of you in a perfect rhythm, he starts doing a ‘come here’ motion with his fingers and you’re quickly approaching your climax. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers and hear him let out a whimper. Your sweet boy loves to make you feel good. At the rate he’s working you, you know it won’t be long before you’re coming undone. You know it, he knows it, and he starts to pick up his pace lapping against you like a starving man.

He comes up for breath momentarily, “C’mon, mama let go for me. Need you to cum on my face, will you cum for me sweet girl. Need to taste you.” He drops his face back down and you weave your hands through his messy curls and begin to buck your hips into his face. He flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. His words were all the encouragement you needed and before you know it you’re cumming hard around his fingers. He coaches you through your release, “That’s it, so perfect when you let go. My good girl.”

Josh slips his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth savoring your release. He peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you come down. Your body starts to settle and you suddenly feel the loss of his touch. You feel empty and have an insatiable desire to have him in you again.

“Josh,” you breathe out. “Mhm, yes my love,” he says lazily looking up at you from between your legs, God is he beautiful like that. “Need you to fill me up. Feels so empty, can you fuck me?” you ask as innocently as possible, you know what talking to him like that does. “I spent so long babying your sweet cunt, now it needs me to fill it up?” his eyes start to darken. Fuck, he’s absolutely filthy. You nod your head quickly.

He gets up from the ground, takes off his shirt, undoes his belt, and steps out of his pants. He pulls his boxers down and lets his hardened cock spring free. He pumps it a few times before walking over to the bed and grabbing your legs to pull you to him. Josh lines himself up and starts to tease your entrance. “Please no more teasing,” you whine out a little more desperately than you’d intended. Josh, feeling merciful, pushes into you quickly bottoming out, and you suck in a breath through your teeth.

He stalls out there for a moment letting you adjust to his size. “Perfect for me, just perfect. Like you were made for me,” he says. He looks down to where your bodies are connected and starts to pump in and out of you. You join his gaze and watch him fucking into you. He’s right, seeing the two of you connect, it’s like your bodies were made for each other.

“Feel so good, can feel you so deep.” you moan out. He places a hand on your lower stomach and both your eyes meet there. “Feel me here?” he says, thrusting into you hard. The sound that tears through you is nothing short of pornographic. He started fucking you at an unrelenting pace. You couldn’t get words out so you just nodded furiously but what you wanted to say was you felt him everywhere. You always did but especially when you connected with him in this way, even when he was being absolutely filthy his radiance reached to every part of your entire being. Your golden boy. And you somehow get lost thinking about how fortunate you are to live in his glow.

A gentle touch to your cheek brings you back to reality. “You alright in there, love. Looked like you spaced on me for a second,” he stares down at you with a slight look of concern. “I’m good, I’m good. Promise. Love you so much. You take such good care of me.” you reply. He slows his pace and his eyes are filled with nothing but admiration. “Love you more than anything, you’re everything. Said I would take my time with you tonight, want to take my time with you.” he says remembering his words from earlier in the night. “Can I do that? Love my sweet girl just right, slow and gentle like she deserves?” His voice is thick as honey and just as sweet, but somehow still dripping with sex. “Mmmhmmmm,” you encourage. You’re convinced he could propose anything and you’d always blindly agree.

Josh lowers his face down to meet yours and kisses you deeply before kissing a trail down your neck all the while pumping in and out of you. He makes his way down to your collarbone where he leaves a few love bites. “Mine” he muttered into your neck. “Yours,” you moan out.

He then makes his way down to your nipples, popping one into his mouth and gently biting it before quickly soothing it with his tongue. He finally makes his way back upright and pushes your knees to your chest changing the angle and somehow hitting you deeper than before. You let out a hiss of pleasure. The two of you stay this way for a while, his pace slow, steady, and deep. Just the two of you, eyes locked on each other, and the room filled with the breathy moans each of you is letting out accompanied by Josh’s gentle praise to you. And with each “good girl,” “so good for me,” “just like that,” and “you take me so well,” you inch closer to your end.

Eventually Josh reaches his thumb down to your mouth, swiping your bottom lip. You open your mouth and he slides his thumb in letting you suck on it gently. He pulls it back out and slides it down to your clit where he rubs tight slow circles. A moan escapes you. “M getting close baby,” you say breathily, “will you cum with me? Want you to fill me up.” His eyes roll back in his head. “Don’t think I could dream about lasting much longer when you’re talking to me like that mama.”

You feel your walls tightening around him and feel his hips slightly faltering signaling that you are both nearing your release. He looks down at you, “Need you to cum for me again? Can you do that for me? Cum pretty all over my cock?” And with one final swipe of his finger you’re sent plummeting over that edge, your second orgasm hitting you hard. He pushes into you bottoming out and you feel his release filling you. “Fuckkkkk, thank you sweet girl. So good for me.” he rushes out as his forehead drops down to meet yours.

You both stay there for a moment and let your breathing slow as you both come down. Josh finally pulls out of you and goes into the en-suite bathroom where he starts drawing a bath. You lazily make your way into the bathroom to meet him. You slide into the tub and he slips in behind you. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a bit and he runs his hands gently up and down your arms. “You know I meant it,” he speaks gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hmmm?” you question. “I meant what I said earlier. That you’d look beautiful in a wedding dress. Hope I get to wait for you at the end of the aisle some day.” he says. “You really mean that?” you choke out. You knew he loved you and you both had talked about spending the rest of this life together but never like this. “Mhmmmm, you’re it for me. You know that. Mine in every life.”

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka #jmk #jmk x reader #gvf #josh gvf #jake gvf #sammy gvf #danny gvf #josh kiszka x reader #gvf smut #greta van fleet fan fiction

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abiiors · 8 months

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midnight, car lights 🌃 // george daniel x reader

a/n: a second fic for the george bbf!au that's been plaguing me lately!! (a third one is coming soon). also happy 10 years of self titled <33 i'm scheduling this to come out at midnight uk time tihi

cw: none really, just fluff and flirting. maybe a very tiny age gap?? like 2 ish years

wc: 3.3k

“let’s go on a joyride.”

those words bounce around in your head like the dvd logo, said to you at 11:50 in the night—whisper-shouted would be more accurate. from under your balcony no less, like some fucked up iteration of romeo and juliet.

so far you have failed to come up with a coherent answer for george who stares up at you expenctantly.

you lean over the railing, your curiosity piqued. "a joyride…” his words repeated back to him in a disbelieving deadpan voice.

he nods eagerly. in his hands is a tiny heap of small stones—the source of the clinks on your bedroom window that had scared you half to death. when george follows your gaze, he drops the rocks hurriedly, dusting off his hands.

“it’s a thursday night…” you point out.

he clicks his tongue. “and you’re clearly not doing anything.”

your eyes narrow at his little jab. sure he’s right but come on now, he didn’t need to point it out like that.

“my brother—”

“is out on his ‘date’.” he makes a little face at that and you stifle the urge to laugh at how icked out he looks. clearly, some more questions that you need to pester matty with. but that’s for tomorrow. right now you raise an eyebrow at the way he cuts you off and finishes your sentences.

“my parents—”

“are asleep!!” his voice acquires a borderline whiny quality. “i checked!” he confirms proudly and before you have the chance to present him with further counterarguments, he throws his hands up in the air.

“come on, little healy,” george’s grins a feral little grin, “scared you’ll get caught?”

you bite your lip, determined not to let him see your smile. it’s midnight, you’re in your pjs—an old ramones t-shirt and tiny shorts that barely come up to the top of your thighs—your hair is half out of your ponytail. in short, you’re the ugliest you’ve ever looked in front of george.

meanwhile he looks like he’s just stepped out of an indie rock magazine—black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that hangs loosely on him and yet somehow fits perfectly and his beloved vans. at this point, you’re sure george could wear just about anything and still look drop-dead gorgeous.

“only a little drive? i promise i’ll get you back home in one piece.”

truth be told, you had made up your mind the first time he asked. a slow tingle of thrill slithers down your spine. the goody two shoes who’s never even smoked a cigarette before he came into the picture. about to sneak out the window at 11:56 pm.

“okay,” you mumble to yourself. the small smile you’d tried to stifle escapes anyway. “okay, fine.”

george grins and whoops silently, fists the air in triumph. it does something funny to your stomach–his excitement.

“hold on a minute,” you tell him before making a mad dash to your wardrobe for an acceptable pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

the subtle nude lip gloss is inviting but you know it’s too much. he’s probably just bored on a thursday night and has nothing else to do. so begrudgingly you settle on a lip balm and brushing out your hair.

it’s fine. it’s normal. and anyway, he’s not going to see you as anything more than matty’s little sister, so what’s the point?

another little rock clinks on your window followed by a soft whisper-shout.

“hurry up!” the clear impatience in his voice makes you giggle but you look at the mirror a final time, smoothing out your unruly hair. this is as best as it gets.

after all, this is not a date.

“can’t exactly fly out the window, george,” you respond drily as soon as he comes back into view.

he looks around curiously, toeing the grass and pulling it loose with his shoes. you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, generating ideas that you don’t entirely trust… matty’s friends aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed—not according to you anyway—but once george gets an idea, it is downright impossible to deter him.

“that looks good enough,” he mumbles but you catch it anyway, catch the spot his eyes are trained on and your stomach plummets about half a foot.

“have you—have you lost your mind?!” you stifle your screech halfway through, looking at the boy in front of you like he’s grown two heads.

george shrugs, looking the least bit bothered and points to the pipe next to your window.

“it’s sturdy, look,” he gives it two firm raps with his knuckles. “and there’s the brick for you to grab onto. and i’ll catch you.”

the last part has your ears perking up. you look at him with a raised eyebrow. it’s only a floor. the ground below you is soft grass that’s regularly mowed and looked after. if you fall, the most that will happen is a bruised ass (and a bruised ego). besides, the alternative is to go your through the front door and risk waking up the whole house.

“trust me!” he bounces on the balls of his feet, eager and impatient.

george stuffs his hands in his pockets, veins on his forearms taut with tension. his colourful tattoos are a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. should you trust him?

“if i fall—”

“you won’t!” he answers confidently. “i’m not going to let you get hurt.”

your heart skips a beat at how soft he sounds, mumbling the sentence more to himself than to you. a shadow of tenderness crosses his features, or maybe you’re just projecting. just a silly little girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. a cliché.

“can’t let my best mate’s little sister get hurt,” he clears his throat. and your heart drops in your chest. of course not. to him you are nothing but matty’s sister. ‘little healy’.

“’course not,” you mutter begrudgingly and grab onto the pipe.

george stands below you, hands raised, neck craning to guide your steps down the exposed brick wall. there’s taking risks and then there’s whatever the fuck this is. regardless, you have put a disturbing amout of faith is george and now there’s nowhere to go but down. literally.

the last few feet loom between you and the ground. your sweaty palms almost slip and involuntarily a whimper escapes you.

“almost there, sweetheart,” george murmurs. that word snags in your brain. all thoughts fly away, and before you know it, you’re missing a step, foot slipping on the rough wall. there’s a split second of panic, the beginning of a scream that dies in your throat as soon as you feel a pair of hands around your waist.

warm, rough hands on soft skin.

george, holding you up.

you’re practically pulled flush against his chest, wide-eyed and flushed from the almost fall. funnily enough, the vertigo intensifies the moment you look up into his eyes. they’re just as wide as yours, mouth parted as if he was about to say something.

for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still. the world around you fades into a distant blur as you and george remain locked in this suspended moment, bodies pressed close together, his towering over yours. his warm breath tickles your skin, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest.

"are you okay?" george's voice is a hushed murmur, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

you manage a shaky nod, finding your voice after a few seconds. "yeah, i... i think so."

george's grip on you doesn't waver as he slowly guides you back onto the solid ground, his hands lingering on your waist for an extra beat before finally releasing you. you take a step back, both to regain your composure and to put some distance between the two of you.

"thanks," you mumble, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i don't know what happened there." you giggle nervously, unable to stare directly into his eyes.

"no need to thank me,” he smiles, “just glad i was here."

the two of you stand there for a second, the weight of the almost moment hanging in the air. then, as if on cue, george's playful grin returns, diffusing the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"good to know i can make your heart race like that, little healy," he begins with a teasing glint in his eyes.

despite the heat creeping up your neck, a small laugh escapes your lips, the tension finally breaking as you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment. "you're unbelievable, george."

“right then,” he toes a small pebble, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “shall we?”

his car is cleaner than you expected.

sure there are some receipts and empty plastic bottles on the floor, even a jacket in the back seat for some inexplicable reasons but it’s nowhere near the pigsty that is your brother’s car.

“in you go,” he motions, casually holding the door for you. internally you’re grateful that he can’t see your flustered expression.

it’s a tiny gesture, barely even a gesture really—just a boy opening a car door for you. but he’s not just a boy. he’s george—the boy who makes you mad beyond belief and annoys you with the smallest of efforts. the boy who makes you stumble over your words. the boy who is your brother’s best friend.

“my my, george,” you tease to cover up your flustered silence, “manners. when did that happen?”

george rolls his eyes as he closes the car door behind you, and you settle into the passenger seat. you notice the faint scent of air freshener, attempting to mask any lingering odors from the cigarettes he no doubt must have smoked earlier. you glance sideways at him when he gets settled in the driver’s seat, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"believe it or not," george retorts, putting the car in reverse, "i do have manners sometimes. just don't expect it all the time."

another playful taunt crawls up your throat, about to make it’s way out of your mouth when george casually just does the hottest thing you’ve ever possibly seen. your heart is in your mouth as you try not to stare at his arm behind your headrest. george, oblivious to your freak out, focuses solely on reversing the car from its little hiding spot. his cologne—something warm and smoky—fills the tiny car. a space that is so overwhelmingly him that you have to swallow roughly every couple minutes lest you do something incredibly stupid.

like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless.

especially with how inviting his light stubble looks.

instead, you pointedly stare out the window at the dull grey road beneath you.

“scared?” he teases, misinterpreting your darting eyes.

all you can do is shake your head. there’s no way you trust your ability to speak right now, especially as half of your brain is focused on not ogling his arms and hands.

this was a mistake. this was a stupid, idiotic, avoidable mistake.

“come on! aren’t you excited to do something reckless for once?”

you are, you really really are. there’s no denying it as the car finally maneuvers out of the parking spot and away from your house.

you let out a silent sigh of relief. the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you take the opportunity to relax your grip on the seat. you sneak another glance at george, this time allowing yourself to truly take in his features.

his bleached hair is tousled—just the right amout of effortlessly messy, and his full pink lips only intensify the butterflies in your stomach. george is beautiful—from the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence to his jaw that tenses as he focuses on the road. all of it makes your heart race again. you can't deny your silly little crush, can’t deny all the times you have wished george was anyone but matty’s best friend. that you actually had the courage to kiss him. more than that you can’t deny all the times you’ve wished he would kiss you first.

“where are we going?” you clear your throat, distinctly aware of how breathy you sound.

george shrugs. “maccies, i think. been really craving some milkshake.”

and then he has the audacity to snicker at your gaping face. “a milkshake…” you trail off, wondering if hitting him on the head would be taking it too far. “sure, good to know i risked my life for your milkshake cravings!”

“pfft,” he blows air, taking his eyes off the road and training them on to you. “admit it, sweetheart, you were ready to, oh what was it? ‘risk your life’ for the thrill of it. don’t lie to me now, i saw it in your eyes.”

there it is again, the little flutter in your ribcage at the s-word. george seems so casual about it too, throwing it around like it doesn’t bother him whatsoever. and maybe it doesn’t, maybe he uses that on every single girl he talks to. the thought curdles in your stomach.

“fine then,” you huff, turning back to the window.

the mcdonald’s is a flurry of people—drunk and high students looking to satisfy their munchies, homeless people looking for a cheap meal and shelter. exhausted employees handing out orders with a dead expression on their face. you almost feel sad, making them prepare two milkshakes at this ungodly hour.

you turn to george who is busy studying the menu with the utmost curiosity.

“strawberry,” he mumbles to himself then turns to you. “or no, wait. banana?”

you quirk an eyebrow. “strawberry is superior.”

“which means that’s what you’re getting,” he replies and goes back to perusing.

“if you think, for even a second, that i would let you steal—”

“so territorial, sweetheart,” he teases, eyes still on the artificially lit board. “fine. two strawberries then.”

george places the orders, giving the cashier his winning smile and handing over some cash. she perks up slightly, eyeing him through her lashes while george leans against the counter. a sudden heat burns through you, wild and unpleasant.

heartburn, you tell yourself. the milkshake will fix it.

or maybe not looking at george being flirty would fix it but oh well…

so you turn around, finding yourself an empty seat and leave him to bring over the drinks.

minutes later, you almost jump out of your skin when george places the cool take-out container against the nape of your neck without warning.

“real mature, george!” the shriek causes a few people to throw distasteful looks your way but he looks absolutely unbothered and oblivious.

“such a grump,” he snickers and motions for you to follow him.

armed with your milkshake, you settle in the car once again. the car park is almost dead at this hour of the night and you wait for him to start the car back up, for him to tell you what the next steps are but george only taps tirelessly on the steering wheel. a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

tap. pause. tap tap tap. pause. tap. pause. it’s restless and rhytmless; not like his usual tapping where he’s lost in own tune. his milkshake sits untouched, condensation dripping onto the dashboard.

you wrap your lips around the straw, sucking on it noisely, sipping on the sweet, cool liquid while you observe him closely. “something’s on your mind.”

your statement makes him blink. so you’re right then, something is on his mind. he’s more fidgety than usual. in the stillness of the night, his thick swallows and knee jerks are painfully obvious.

“what’s up…” you trail off, unsure if pushing him would be the right move.

“there’s this–well. i want to–”

“this is new.” the amount of glee in your voice should be disturbing to you but you can’t contain it. because it is new.

you’ve seen george be arrogant and annoying, laddish and even on occasion, sweet. but you’ve never seen him be shy before.

“shut up,” he mutters to himself, then sighs loudly. “okay fine, it’s better if i just show you.”

you follow his movements inquisitively, his imperceptibly shaky hands as he takes out his phone and opens up a non-descript recording titled track 11

his phone screen illuminates his face in the dimly lit car as he hovers over the audio file. the soft glow casts a warm, intimate ambiance, making you acutely aware of how close you are to him in the confined space. your curiosity and anticipation mount as you wonder what he's about to reveal.

"i've been thinking about this for a while now," he clears his throat, finger lowering to finally click on the file. "and i want to share something with you."

at first, nothing happens. all that comes out of the speakers is static and then some more static. but just as you're about to speak, the car is filled with the opening notes of a song—one that instantly tugs at your memory. It's a tune that you have heard before, at different points in time. it's the song that matty’s hummed to you on days you were ill in bed, a song you heard them play at band practice. it’s a song that george and matty laboured over for days. the one that brought you all closer together.

and now it sounds all put together. the final piece of the puzzle locked in.

matty’s voice is stronger than you’ve ever heard, adam’s guitar and ross’ bass sprinkling magic onto it. and then there are the drums—precise and clear and passionate. just like how george drums his fingers on his lap now, matching the beat of the song.

when the song ends, there's a brief silence in the car. the weight of the notes and the sincerity in his eyes hang in the air, leaving you breathless.

"george," you finally whisper, "that was..."

“we finished it,” he smiles, looking down at his lap. “so we recorded it…”

“it’s…”

there you are once again, at a loss for words. almost certain that there might be actual tears in your eyes.

“that was…”

“shit? derivative? lousy?” he tries to laugh it off, covering up a vulnerable moment with his jokes but you’d be damned if you let that happen.

“perfect.”

the words echoes around the car resoundingly. there’s no challenging your opinion. the song is perfect.

“and you listen to me once and for all george daniel, if you call that song names in front of me one more time, if i hear you call it shit and derivitive and lousy again—”

before you can finish your sentence, george leans forward, crashing his lips onto yours. there’s a crackle of electricity in the air around you, the slowing down of time as if you’re having an out-of-body experience. as if you are a fly on the wall watching two people giving into the magnetic pull between them. but george cups your cheek with his hand and you jolt back into your body.

his lips are cool from the milkshake but the kiss is searing hot, teeth clashing against teeth. your bodies trying to get as close to each other as possible despite the gearstick between your seats. george tugs on your bottom lip, smiling wide as if he can’t help it—grinning ear to ear.

by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily—practically panting. he doesn’t pull back entirely, instead he keeps his eyes closed and his forehead rested against yours. the grin stays on his face. wide and gorgeous and making him look so boyish.

“um,” you start and break off into a quick laugh.

"i've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

with some hesitation, george lets go of your face, opening his eyes to look at you a second later.

“damn, sweetheart,” he sighs again, chuckling a little. “this is turning out to be a great joyride, huh…”

lemme know what you think <33

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idwt-money · 3 months

Text

Feverish

continuation of this blurb 🫶🏼

MDNI 18+

1.6k words, Noah sebastian x fem!reader

CW: unprotected sex, slight choking, dirty talk

you were on the way to your doctor. you had been feeling sick and unwell when you called and made the appointment last week but now you felt fine.

your doctor still wanted you to come in so he could run standard tests and to make sure it was nothing to be concerned about.

you sighed as you parked your car in an empty spot. you hated coming to the doctors, the hospital just freaked out. but you didn't mind your doctor. doctor Noah, he was so fucking fine. he had tattoos seemingly everywhere and he was so tall he towered over you every time he spoke to you. his hair somehow fell perfectly around his face and those glasses he wore, you could rip them off his face and have him fuck you silly.

did you have a minor crush on him? yes. did you fantasize about him every time you visited? also yes.

it was just a hopeless little crush. he was strictly professional every time you've seen him, but you wished so desperately that he would break this nerdy character he seemed to have and dominate you in ways that appeared impossible.

you stepped into the building, speaking to the front desk.

“i have an appointment with dr. Noah at 1:30.” you spoke softly, no one else was in the waiting room but it felt punishable to break the silence.

the lady took your information and checked the time.

“okay, take a seat and he will be with you momentarily.” she seemed bored speaking to you.

you muttered a small ‘thank you’ before taking a seat and playing a game on your phone to pass the time.

“y/n?” you popped your head up when you heard your full name being called by a nurse.

you followed her back, into the first room available.

she took your blood pressure, weight and such before telling you the doctor would be in, in just a couple of minutes.

you bounced your leg as you sat on the paper covered bed, although you knew nothing was wrong, every time you got a check up you were worried they'd find something harmful.

also mixed in with the anxiety of seeing one of the finest doctors you've ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. that for sure didn't help.

the silence of the room dissipated with the crack of the door opening.

“hello, y/n.” dr. Noah said, giving a soft smile before squirting hand sanitizer into his palm.

“so, how are you feeling? you had some irritation in your chest?” his face looked at you with a puzzled expression painted on it.

“uh- um yes. but i'm feeling much better now. simply taking your advice to get it checked out. just in case.” you were cursing at yourself for blushing at his appearance alone. under the fluorescent lights, you were sure you had no way to hid it.

“well, everything here on your chart looks good, but your blood pressure does look a little high.” he pushed his glasses up, reading your chart thoroughly.

“well…this place does freak me out a little..” you openly admitted.

he gave a small chuckle.

“no need to be anxious. i don't bite.” he shot you a small wink before grabbing a stethoscope.

“i'll listen to your chest now.”

he stood up off his chair and put the cold metal against your shirt.

“breathe in, nice and deep.”

“god, please don't hear my heart going fucking wild” you pleaded with yourself in your head as you followed his instructions.

“aaaand out. one more time."

once done listening to your lungs, he put the stethoscope away. as he walked back to his chair, you caught a sniff of his cologne. you swore to god you could have tackled him then and there. you pressed your thighs together in desperate attempts to ease the slow burning that was now pooling between your legs.

“well, your lungs sound just fine, nothing you should be worried about.” he scribbled something down on the paper he had clipped to his clipboard.

he looked up from the paper and got noticeably awkward. that was the exact moment you noticed your cleavage wanting to spill out of your shirt. your mind started racing the longer he looked at you.

“uh..is there something wrong, doctor?” you tried to put on a confident facade.

“....no! just-” he cleared his throat “just uh-”

for the first time, you had seen your doctor lose his “cool calm and collected” personality. he readjusted his tie and tried to come up with words as his mind drew a blank.

“doctor, i feel like we know each other enough to talk outside of this professional setting. don't you think?” you cocked your head to the side as you asked your question. you stood up, approaching him. he, as per usual, was towering over you.

you watched his eyes as something snapped in his brain. his facial expression turned from flustered to something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

“you don't think i haven't noticed you trying to hide how bad you want to fuck me?” his voice was more of a growl in your ears, his words struggling to flow through his gritted teeth.

the sudden switch up had you in a mix of emotions.

he slowly pushed his body against yours, causing you to hit your backside against the counter.

“do you know how. many. fucking. times. i've had to run to the bathroom after your visits and jerk off?”

you were simply at a loss of words. you looked like a deer in front of headlights.

“i-i didn't-” you stuttered.

“you didn't what? didn't mean to? i call bullshit. wearing skirts short enough i can practically see your entire fucking ass.”

he had quite the grip on your hips now, digging his fingers into your skin.

you lost track of any thought that was previously roaming around your mind and brought him into a kiss, it wasn't pretty. your teeth almost clashing together.

you were quick to unbutton his white doctors coat, as he threw it onto the paper covered bed, you noticed he had many more tattoos than you expected. they were up and down his arms. as he undid his tie and undid a couple buttons of his shirt, you realized he was completely covered in tattoos. if you weren't wet enough you sure were now.

before you could think he turned you around and your skirt was being lifted. you heard his belt and zipper come undone before he pushed your panties to the side and pushed himself into you.

your eyes rolled back your mouth hung open. he was fucking massive. you'd figured he be big but you currently had no clue how the fuck he was fitting inside of you.

as he slowly started to fuck into you, you couldn't help but let a long string of moans out.

your moans led him to covering your mouth with his tattooed covered hand. you took no time at letting two of his fingers fall into your mouth.

as he picked up his pace, his free hand traveled down to work at your clit.

“be fucking quiet. it's dead silent in here. one noise and im leaving you a fucking mess.”

you tried your best to stifle your moans and cries, but his fingers being shoved down your throat sure did help you a shit load.

“fuck you feel better than i imagined.” his words were quiet and breathy, only loud enough for the two of you to hear.

you both knew you had to be quick, there was only so much time until his next appointment and you weren't going to be left mid fuck.

you had fixed your position, your back now against Noah's chest. it only allowed him to reach deeper within your pussy, you didn't know what heaven on earth felt like until you had this mans cock 7 inches deep in your stomach.

Noah's hand that was covering your mouth was now wrapped tightly around your neck.

“fuck, doctor, youre going to fucking break me. you’re so fucking big- oh my god!” your words were extremely hushed, only wanting Noah to hear the dirty words you were mindlessly mumbling out.

“mhm, fuck baby, i know. your pussy feels so good, so fucking perfect around my cock.”

you were teetering on the edge of your orgasm and you weren't sure you'd be able to support yourself.

“oh god- i dunno- i can't-” your words were rushed and worrisome until Noah took you in his arms.

“it's okay, i got you, let me have it. i wanna feel you so fucking bad.”

his thrusts were getting sloppier but it only made it feel that much better.

with Noah's reassurance you let yourself fall into a blissful orgasm, your body shaking against his. your cunt squeezed Noah's cock, causing him to lose himself in his own orgasm. you heard him grunt words out, but you were too fucked out to even take them in.

you slowly came back down to earth, as did Noah. when you heard a knock on the door, you looked at each other panicked.

“your next appointment is here, dr. Noah.” his assistant spoke through the door.

“i will be there shortly.” was all he was able to say in his current situation. when he heard her walk away, you both rushed to put your clothes back on.

as you walked out of the building, you heard him mumble something to what you could guess was the janitor.

“sanitize this room thoroughly, thank you.”

you giggled to yourself before making your way back home.

tag list ♡ : @th4t-em0-k1d

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #bad omens band #badomens #badomenscult #noahsebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah bad omens

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peachywontyell · 5 months

Text

ive had this bouncing around in my head for a while, so here we are.

i am a sucker for pretty boys with kind brown eyes and jaime fits that description perfectly...so i decided to give him a lot of pining (that is definitely reciprocated), he has to be a big brave boy and confess 🫶🏾 also, this is placed before the events in the movie !

inspired by

hanging out with jaime has always been very warm, cozy, comfortable. ever since you were children when you'd spend weekends riding your bikes around the neighborhood, only to crash at one of your houses after having way too much food. it happened so frequently that it got to the point where it just was the new normal for both of your families (impromptu get togethers were very common).

the friendship you guys had only grown stronger with each year that passed and well- there were definitely feelings there that weren't strictly platonic now. you were trying your hardest to push them away though, and jaime was having the same issues...however neither of you dared to even threathen the sanctity of the bond shared by confessing. that is until one summer came along, you guys had gone to different universities, and even though you called and texted daily, summer was when you guys could actually hang out like the old days. and here you were, having gone to pick up jaime from the airport with the rest of the reyes. as he walked through the gate you let his family say their hellos first- it's safe to say he almost drowned in hugs and kisses, and when you finally got to say hello you didn't hold back with the bear hug either.

you missed him dearly, and the weird feeling of anxiety, excitement and happiness settled in your stomach as he squeezed you back and actually just fully picking you up. it made the feeling in your stomach even stronger.

"JAIME DIOS MÍO BÁJAME"

"Que no, don't wanna"

"okay so if that's how this is gonna go, cárgame bien, señor"

suddenly you guys were in your own world, talking and laughing and everyone could clearly see what was happening here. milagro was gonna have a field day with the teasing as soon as she had a chance. he ended up putting you down- but only after he carried you all the way to the car. it was embarrassing yes, but now as embarrassing as the older couple that chuckled as you walked past and talked to themselves in hushed voices about 'how sweet young love is' and how they wished they could go back in time and experience it all over again.

that got you both blushing...and made the drive back home for lunch a bit...strange. nothing really changed, you still sat together and chatted, but jaime couldn't stop thinking about what they had said. did you guys actually look like a couple? should he had said something to them? the fact that he didn't mind if they thought so made him feel warm and fuzzy.

two weeks pass, and while you've somehow managed to push away those fuzzy feelings, things have definitely flipped for jaime- and milagro did not help one bit. she woke up much earlier than he did, you did too, and it usually meant that as soon as he walked out into the kitchen he'd see you just having breakfast.

"buenas morning" you say, trying not to laugh cause his hair looked bonkers, but even if you found it hilarious, it was still endearing, and the fuzzy feelings you had to fight every single day before meeting him were back and they were looking for vengeance. and when he almost put his full body weight on top of you for a hug not caring that you were in the middle of eating? well, you felt like you were going to die. "mornin...." he didn't move off. "jaime." "Hmmm?" "get off of me and go shower, tenemos que encontrarnos con el grupo in like an hour". with one last, extremely dramatic sigh, he moves off and does as told. it's not like he didn't want to spend the day with you and some of your other friends, they were his friends too, but he would much rather stay in and chill.

not even two hours later and you guys are at the little picnic area everyone agreed to meet up at, playing silly games, chatting and just catching up! and jaime just wasn't feeling it, he couldn't really pinpoint the reason why until he sees how talkative and close you are with one of the guys there. okay. that's fine. it's just a hangout, nothing is happening, you definitely aren't flirting with him. thank god someone called the guy over cause he didn't know how much he could take.

"so how'd the flirting go?" he thought he sounded casual, calm, normal. he did not sound casual, calm or normal. he sounded upset and looked like a sad dog. "what flirting- what the hell happened to you? why do you look so sad? ¿qué pasó?" "hm? nothing." he shook his head, making you squint. okay, if he didn't want to tell you, then you'd just come up with absurd reasons as to why he would be upset. "¿tas celoso?" funny how you got it right first try. you don't know that, though. "what? no- ¿qué?" he prays to god the blush creeping up his neck isn't noticeable, prays it doesn't betray him. "Ayyyyy si es eso you don't have to be, tu sabes que you're irreplaceable" you laugh and god is definitely on his side cause you're called over a few second later by someone of the order people and he can feel his heart beating so fast he fears its gonna burst through his chest.

the hangout went by smoothly, he genuinely couldn't be happier, even if at first he didn't want to be there. he has to admit, he did miss his friends, so he's glad he could spend some time with them. now you guys are laying on his bed, chismeando and just debriefing when the topic of him being "jelous" came up again. maybe he could just do it. he knew it was risky, but....he was willing to take the chance. "....you know what? maybe i was. maybe i was very jelous, maybe i still kind-of am." he felt you sitting up and all he could do was pull a pillow over his face and keep this shit rolling "you've always made me feel so comfortable and...warm, and ive always loved you, but at some point i think it turned into love...? does that make sense- no- it's fine- okay- look i just- de verdad que me gustas mucho y pues no sé- i don't wanna fuck this up aunque creo que ya lo jodí-" he huffs and sits up to face you, looking embarrassed and flustered "you're so special to me and i really don't want to mess up the friendship we have, okay? but i'd just...i'd really like to be yours."

you aren't sure if you should just kiss him or shake him by the shoulders. so you settle for taking his hand in yours, feeling your face grow warmer- if that's even possible after that confession. "jaime, look at me." that boy is holding onto the pillow for dear life, using it to still obscure his face while he shakes his head. he's trembling. you use your other hand to grab his face and look at you "please, just kiss me" "really?" "si-" and he does, like he's been starving. he almost doesn't let you pull back even though you both need to breathe. "jaime mi amor, you will always be my favorite pretty boy and im so happy i can finally tell you."

#peachy thinks thoughts!#peachy talks into the void!#yeah im upset with this but i said id post it ://#still kinda cute though :') i fuck heavy with the yearning and cute crushes #and jaime is just fun to imagine in cute situations like that #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle (2023)#plus size reader #latina reader #again reitero ese tag y el de plus size #anyway #hope whoever reads this enjoys it #sorry its a lil slow and ends abruptly i would have kept it going but i wanted to keep it wholesome #ALSO #Spanglish #!!!!! YEAHHHHHH LETS GOOOO

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tiniedemon · 1 year

Text

— ♡

kiss the girl

kenny mccormick / reader

— ♡

kenny was nervous. his palms were sweaty and his face was hot. he couldn’t help but drum his fingers against the steering wheel of his dad’s beat up truck, worrying his lip between his teeth. he’d parked along the sidewalk in front of your house, waiting for you to join him in the passenger seat.

his phone chimed, a text from you flashing across the cracked screen. ‘coming,’ it read, and it was like a hole had opened in the bottom of his stomach. he watched the door of your house, tapping growing in volume. the door opened and out you walked, looking somehow more breathtaking than you usually did. he felt the air leave his lungs, reentering in the form of a dazed gasp.

he hurried to clamber out of the truck, circling to intercept you before you could touch the handle. he tossed you a smile, bright despite missing a front tooth. you couldn’t help but to smile back, toying with the house keys dangling from your hands.

“you look… wow,” he sighed, opening his arms. you giggled as you stepped into them, embracing him as tightly as you could. he smelled delightful, albeit a bit like musk and motor oil.

“i could say the same for you, handsome,” you quipped back, flushing under the weight of his oceanic gaze. he opened the truck door and guided you into it, making sure you were secure before he shut it and hurried to his own seat.

“so i was thinking,” he started, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. you were watching him intently, a blush forming on his cheeks when he realized. “why don’t we ditch the movies and hang out at stark’s pond? i’d much rather talk than sit in a dark room for two hours.”

“i think that sounds like a sweet idea,” you responded, matching the wide grin on his face. to be honest, you were relieved that he’d mentioned tossing the movie idea in the garbage. you weren’t quite fond of the idea of spending your first date with kenny with your eyes glued to a screen. it seemed out of touch, on top of the money issue you knew kenny had.

it wasn’t long before you pulled up to the pond, kenny carefully reversing the truck within a few feet of the shore as the stereo played quietly in the background. he’d somehow found the money to put a newer radio in it since his father had pretty much granted him ownership of it, grateful for the new bluetooth feature and a speaker system that didn’t sound like sand in a plastic bottle.

he popped the tailgate down and helped you climb onto it, both of you propping your backs against the wall of the truck’s bed facing each other. you held your knees close to your body, one of kenny’s legs outstretched and the other bent and leaning away from his body.

within minutes, he’d launched into a rant about his job at a mechanic shop, unintentionally teaching you the ins and outs of a car. you listened as intently as you could, unable to pry your eyes from his moving lips or his darting eyes. you hadn’t realized how much of a hand talker he was until then and you found it endearing. he seemed to notice your staring and blushed, cutting himself off mid sentence.

“what? is there something on my face?” he asked and you chuckled at the way his fingers immediately rose to touch his cheeks.

“no,” you laughed out as you shook your head. “you just look really good in this lighting.” and you were absolutely correct. the rays of the moon, both direct and bouncing off the rippling lake to your right, perfectly lit the side of his face, accenting the shadows of his cheeks and jaw and the wave of his blonde hair. he was absolutely ethereal, but you couldn’t tell him that on the first date.

he let out a sigh of relief and dropped his hands, a shy smile playing on his chapped lips as he glanced in every direction but yours. you could see the faint pink forming under the freckles on his cheeks and the open chest visible from the top two buttons he’d left unbuttoned on his (worn and wrinkled) dress shirt.

“you had me scared for a second,” he uttered, clearing his throat. “you work too, right? tell me about your job.”

and so you did, letting yourself ramble about the drama within your workplace at tom’s rhinoplasty. he watched you just as intently as you’d watched him, focused on the vigorous nodding and shaking of your head and the way you talked with your entire body. every word had a gesture, either your hands flinging to the side or your legs changing position ever so slightly. he could see the acne scars on your chin and the middle of your forehead and the scar just slightly below your bottom lip, your skin and hair glowing in the night light. he swore in that moment you had to be an angel sent from heaven.

you ended your small rant with a breathy chuckle, a breathtaking smile giving way to crooked teeth and dimples in your chin and smile lines. you noticed the twinkle in his eyes and the crease of his forehead from the way his eyebrows were raised. his grin leaned more on the goofy side, wide and adoring, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“i could listen to you talk for hours, y/n,” he breathed, and you could feel the nauseous butterflies swarming in your throat and stomach. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you might throw up, but the sheer embarrassment of throwing up on the first date helped you keep it together.

“you’re such a charmer, ken.” he tossed his head back in laughter, his foot slightly brushing yours as his body turned to the left. you let your legs lay flat, his contagious laughter spreading to you. within seconds, the two of you were laughing uncontrollably over nothing, your body held up only by your left hand as the other clutched your side. kenny was already flat on his back, one leg in the air and the other bent with his knee facing the sky.

the laughter died within a minute of it starting, your eyes meeting as a few aftershock laughs echoed in the air. your shadow hung over his face, his hand reaching towards your face with a hesitant pause just before he touched your skin. a part of him was screaming that he was moving too fast, and the other part of him reminded him that he’d been waiting nearly a decade to touch you as a love interest rather than an acquaintance.

his heart flipped behind his ribs as his fingertips brushed your jaw. he knew he was probably entirely red at this point, with your own hand cupping the side of his face and your eyes creased with a loving smile. the urge to kiss you was so strong it was nearly suffocating him, his palm curled loosely around the back of your neck. you inched closer and his breath came shorter, nearly hyperventilating by the time you touched your mouth softly to his.

the kiss lasted a lot longer than he was expecting, your lips moving slowly against his as his other hand fell to your shoulder blade. he wanted to chase your lips when you pulled away, but he instead let his head fall against the metal under his body with a dull clunk, a dazed smile lighting up his eyes.

“i hope i wasn’t too forward,” you mumbled, a bit embarrassed in the wake of your previous action. he chuckled and pulled you down for a small peck, crow’s feet forming as his smile widened.

“believe me sweetheart, i’ve been waiting ages,” he breathed in response, tugging you down to lay at his side. your head rested against his collarbone, the thunder of his heartbeat nearly drowning your own speeding pulse out.

when you got home, curled beneath your duvet, you couldn’t resist touching your tingling lips, a lovesick giggle bubbling in your throat. kenny mccormick was quite the flirt, wasn’t he?

#kenny mccormick x reader #south park

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meetmyothersouls · 2 years

Note

Take some time to feel better girl, we’ll be here :)

Thank you so much, sweet Anon!

As a gift, here’s a short little blurb for you ❤️

Say Okay

Warnings: kissing, some angst?, fluff

“Take a chance on me, please,” he said, tears brimming his eyes.

You’d never seen Timothee cry. It did something to you. Seeing a man cry, yes. But seeing your Timothee cry…you stumbled a little over both your feet and your words.

“I-Tim-I can’t there’s just…there’s too much to lose.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Damn it, you won’t lose anything, y/n.” He ran an exhausted hand through his loose curls and licked his lips before biting his bottom one. He did that when he was upset. “Who else knows you like I do, hm? No one.” He took a step toward you, and you backed away. Not because you were scared, you weren’t, but because you’d been avoiding this moment. You’d been running away from loving him for years. And it was easy until he started loving you too. Damn him. You backed away from his slow steps, until your back hit the wall of his bedroom. He kept a few inches between you, enough to where you could escape if you wanted, but still you could feel his fast, heavy breaths hit your face. If you pressed your ear against his chest, you were sure you could hear his heart racing, matching those quick breaths. He sighed, another breath danced across your skin. It smelled like mint and slightly of cigarettes. “I know that you hate listening to music in the car and that you say your favorite color is red when it’s really purple.” Your eyes stayed glued to the floor as he talked, even when he tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “I know that ordering food gives you anxiety so you always want me to go first. I know that you’ve been wronged so much in your life and you somehow still manage to be the best person I’ve ever met despite it.” He lifted your chin. “And I know that you love me. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to admit that I love you too. And, god, do you deserve better than me. But please, please, take a chance on me.”

Timothee pressed a kiss to your lips. His lips were soft and pillowy. They tasted sweet and slightly salty. They were everything you imagined them to be. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye.

“Tim-”

“You won’t lose me. You won’t lose anything. I don’t intend on letting you slip away.” His eyes bounced back and forth, hopping between both of yours and your lips. He bit his bottom lip again. “And if you truly don’t want to be with me. Then I’ll still love you and I’ll still be friend and it’ll kill me but you’ll still have me.”

You were quiet. You weren’t sure if you remembered how to think, or blink or breathe. You’ve wanted him for so long and now here he was, offering himself fully to you. Your hands were shaky and sweaty, and your breathing felt as erratic as your thoughts.

“Please, say something. Please say ‘okay’,” he said, desperation evident in his voice.

You shook your head.“I can’t handle losing you,” you whispered.

A hand found the small of your back and pulled you into him. His lips met yours and slid perfectly against them.

“I’m not going anywhere. Please say ‘okay’.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, opening his mouth slightly as he began kissing you again. Everything about him tasted good, and felt good. Felt right.

“Okay.”

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @gatoenlaciudad @patronsaintofthetwinks

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #smut

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holdmytesseract · 2 years

Text

Of Fathers and Sons 》 Baby Fever AU

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Request:

"Daddy! Loki idea❤️

Baby's first bifrost

YN and Loki are going to visit grandparents Odin & Frigga and YN is nervous about the bifrost. Loki comforts her.

Also bonus points for cute grandparents stuff!" - Requested by my lovely friend @lokisgoodgirl ! Thank you for the cute request! 😄💚

Summary: It's time for Ella's first travel with the Bifrost - and not just that... There's someone important she is about to meet...

Warnings: fluff, itsy-bitsy bit of angst, fluff!

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: The first request for the Baby Fever AU - yaaay! 🥳💚 I had so much fun writing this! The request inspired me, so I added my idea to the fic. I hope that's okay, @lokisgoodgirl! 😊 It's quite a bit emotional - and I love it. 😁 Ps. I didn't want to spoiler much. That's the reason why the summary is so short. 😂🙈 The title just came into my mind and I kinda liked it. 😊

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @theaudacitytowrite

If you want to be added to my Loki Taglist, let me know! :D

Find the Baby Fever AU Masterlist here! :D

"Do you really think she's going to be fine?" Y/N asked, biting her lip nervously. Her gaze was fixated on the small baby girl, who slept peacefully in the baby car seat; pink dummy in her mouth. "Darling..." Loki began, stepping over to his wife and placing both his hands on her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I promise you, Ella will be perfectly fine. The Bifrost is not going to harm her. Trust me." The young woman inhaled deeply, but gave her Prince a soft smile. "Have I ever not trusted you, Lokes?" "Have I ever given you a reason to not trust me?" The cunning Trickster winked with a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at his repartee. "No." His hands travelled up to cup her cheeks, "See?" before he dipped his head to press a soft kiss on her lips. "Shall we leave then? I bet my parents are expecting us already." Y/N nodded, "Yes. Let's go." and grabbed Ella's changing bag, while Loki squatted down in front of the baby car seat, carefully unbuckling the straps, which secured her. Loki already felt bad for what he was about to do, but it was better that way... He slipped his hands underneath Ella's small body and lifted her up - what caused her to slightly stir already. Loki held her with one arm and bounced her gently up and down in order to somehow wake her up. They had both agreed, that it was probably for the best, if Ella was awake for her first proper travel experience with the Bifrost - not to irritate her or something.

Her face contorted in her sleep, a frown spreading on her forehead. "Come one, baby girl, wake up." He stroked her cheeks in addition and pinched softly - not to hurt her, her tiny feet, which were wrapped up in the footsies of the white, pink rompers she wore. That caused her to finally wake up, big blue eyes fluttering open. On an instant, the small girl started to whimper and whine, causing the dummy to fall from her mouth on Loki's arm. "I know, princess, I know..." Loki whispered, pressing small kisses on her head. "Daddy is so sorry, but it's better that way..." Those words didn't seem to reassure Ella. She was still upset that her sleep has been so rudely interrupted; small cries leaving her pouty lips. Not even a kiss from her mama could help... Loki grabbed with his free hand the baby car seat, continuously bouncing Ella on his other arm, trying to calm her down. "Ready, love?" Loki asked, looking compassionately at Y/N, knowing that she had been quite a bit anxious about that. Also, because the Bifrost made her throw up most of the times... "Yeah." "Alright. Hold on to me?" The Y/H/C haired woman nodded once again and wrapped her arms around Loki's waist, changing bag slung over her shoulder. The prince looked up at the ceiling. "Heimdall? We are rea-" He couldn't even finish his sentence, before the familiar rainbow light swallowed them whole. While Y/N let out a squeal and held on to her husband for dear life, Ella had stopped her crying, surprised by the sudden change of her surroundings. She looked around, before her wide blue eyes met her father's identical ones, tiny mouth agape. Loki smiled at his daughter, witnessed how her confusion turned into fascination. No second later, the tiny girl started to giggle, looking around in awe, watching how the rainbow lights danced in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, it was over very soon, as Loki and Y/N felt the Asgardian ground beneath their feet. "Oh gods, not again..." Groaned the woman, immediately turning away from her God to, well... Throw up. What else?

"Every time..." She whined, turning back, only to see Loki smiling amusingly. "Stop laughing! That's not funny!" Y/N slapped his arm. "I'm sorry, darling." Loki quickly apologised and kissed her. "But... Look! Ella's fine! She even had her fun. Giggled through the whole travel, right princess?" He teased Y/N a bit, kissing Ella on her head again. "You're being mean." Loki chuckled. "No, I am not." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, you are." "No, I am not. I just stated the facts." Y/N pouted. "I love you. Now come on." He reached out his hand for Y/N to take. She sighed, but of course, took it. "Love you too, you cheeky, mischievous scamp." This caused Loki to chuckle again.

Together they made their way to the palace, passing by Heimdall, of course. "Heimdall." The raven-haired man greeted him with a nod. "Prince Loki, Princess Y/N... The carriage awaits you." He took a small bow and smiled at the couple. It was the third time for Y/N that she had the privilege to enter one of Asgards golden carriages, drawn by two white horses - and she was still totally enchanted by it, feeling like the princess she actually was. For Ella, it was the first time. Okay, strictly speaking it was her second time, but Y/N didn't count the one time when she had been pregnant. Loki handed Ella over to her mother and turned to open the golden door of the carriage for his girls, being the charming gentleman he was. "My princesses..." He said with a smile, gesturing inside the carriage. Y/N giggled and curtsied, "Thank you, my prince." before she climbed inside. Loki followed after, baby car seat in hands. When they were all seated properly, the carriage set into motion. Y/N couldn't help the giddy feeling inside her. She still quite couldn't grasp after all those years that she was practically speaking royalty. And yet she looked so 'Midgardian' - as Loki would put it. A normal summer dress and ballerinas. She suppressed a giggle. "What is it, love?" Loki asked, an amused smile on his face. "Nothing, babe. It's just... I still can't believe I am a princess and looking so... normal." He chuckled. "Well, I am not better, am I?" "You are. You're at least wearing a shirt and suit trousers." They had a laugh together, while Ella was in Y/N's lap, dummy back in her mouth and already half asleep again. "Seems like riding a carriage lulls her to sleep." Loki stated, smiling down at the baby girl. "Seems so, yeah..."

Once they had reached the big, spacious, golden palace of Asgard, they went straight for the gardens, where they had been already awaited for tea-time…

"Mother." Loki smiled, when he approached the golden garden table, at which Frigga sat, seemingly enjoying the sun on her skin. The prince's voice caught her attention, of course and Frigga stood immediately up, meeting her son on the way. "Loki." The Queen smiled and wrapped him up in a big hug. "Hello, mother." Y/N stood behind, watched with a smile. Her heart clenched at the sight. She adored the deep bond Loki shared with Frigga. Ella was in her arms, cooing away softly, still on the verge of entering the world of dreams. After Frigga had greeted Loki, she moved past him towards her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. "Y/N, my dear." The two women hugged each other carefully, not to hurt Ella. "Hey, Frigga." "It's so great to see you again, dear. It's been a while..." That was true. Frigga had lastly seen her and Ella in the days after the birth. "That's quite right... I am sorry that we are just now come to visit." Frigga shook immediately her head. "Please don't apologise. It's alright. I understand that you wanted to wait until Ella is a bit older to travel with the Bifrost and take her with you. Thor and Jane did the same with Eisa, didn't they tell you?" "No. We talked about a lot but not about the obvious." Y/N said, giggling softly. "Thank you for understanding." "Of course!" An adorable coo from Ella, attracted immediately Frigga's attention. She looked down, smiling. "Oh, hello, my sweet little princess!" Ella looked up at her grandmother, smiling, despite the dummy in her mouth. "May I hold her?" Y/N nodded, "Of course!" and handed the baby over. "She has grown so much..." Stated the queen. "But she still looks like her father." Her gaze wandered to Loki, who held a smile on his face as well. They exchanged a look who spoke more than words could do. The proudness, love and happiness in Frigga's eyes...

"Speaking of fathers... Where is the Allfather?" The God asked. "He had been delayed beforehand and had to do something important. But he should be here soon." Loki nodded and thought for a moment. "Do you know where he is?" "In our chambers, I think." Another beat of silence passed. "Mother, may I have Ella back? I'd like to... Go to him and, uh, do this alone." He gazed at his wife. "Y/N, darling, is that alright? I-I feel like I have to do this alone." Y/N smiled and stepped closer, taking his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. "It's okay. I know how important this is for you." She kissed him softly, before releasing his hand. "Thank you." He whispered, before taking his daughter in his arms. "Mother, I-" Frigga just nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know." See, it wasn't the first time Frigga saw her granddaughter... But it was the first time Odin would meet Ella. At the time of the birth, he hadn't been in Asgard. An important negotiation had forced him to make his way to Vanaheim that week and causing him to miss Ella's birth. The queen cupped her son's cheek. "Go to him." He nodded and made his way back inside the palace.

Loki's and Odin's father-son relationship hadn't always been the best - let's put it that way. There were difficult times and quite a lot of troubles they went through. Loki's heritage for example. Or that Thor had always been preferred over him by Odin. Luckily, they overcame those obstacles - together as a family and since Loki had Y/N in his life, everything had turned to the better for him anyway. By now, Odin and Loki's bond was stable. Not as deep as Loki's and Frigga's, but it was there. Loki had stopped proving to his father that he could be as good as his older brother or better and started to just be himself. He learned to accept his Jotun form; learned that a throne wasn't the glorious purpose he was looking for. His family was - and that was one reason why it was so important for the prince to have this upcoming moment with his father alone. Loki had grown, was more a man than he ever was before. He was a husband. A father. He had found the meaning of his life, without a doubt.

"Father?" Loki said after taking a deep breath, knocking at the big, pretentious door of his parent's chambers. The door got opened by a guard. "Prince Loki." He bowed. "Is my father...? Can I...?" Loki stammered, quite a bit nervous. Why was he nervous? "I'll ask the king." With those words, the guard disappeared again. Ella seemed to feel her father's nervosity. She started to whimper, tiny feet kicking against Loki's arm. "Hey, p, don't cry. Shhh, it's okay." He started to rock her gently, peppering small kisses on her chubby cheeks. "Your daddy is just a bit nervous, 'cause you're going to meet his daddy." To hear her father's calming voice seemed to reassure Ella a bit again and she got quieter. Moments later, the guard returned. "The king would like to see you." The guard stepped aside, granting Loki access. Odin stood on the majestically balcony, looking over his kingdom. Of course, he heard his son's approaching steps. "My apologies, son. I'd have loved to join you, Y/N and my wife sooner, but there was this incident I needed to take care of and-" By now, Odin had turned around and froze immediately mid-sentence, when he saw Loki standing only a few steps behind him, with a soft smile on his face - and his granddaughter in his arms. A shaking breath left the older man's lips. "Son, is that...?" Loki nodded quickly, "Father... Meet Ella - your granddaughter." and stepped closer, so that Odin was able to see her properly. Big blue eyes, meeting his eye. The tiny girl looked up at the other man in awe. It was a face she had never seen before. So, they just stared at each other. Was the Allfather... speechless? "Would you... Would you like to hold her?" Loki asked, quite a bit clumsily. Odin just nodded without saying a word. A few seconds later was Ella in his arms, eyes still locked on the older man she didn't know. It took her a few moments to feel comfortable, knowing that she was safe and that nothing was happening to her. Maybe she sensed that Odin was her grandfather? The familiarity? Ella started to smile and coo softly, reaching up her tiny hand to touch the Allfather's cheek and beard. It was a heart-warming moment. Loki felt it, saw the adoration in his father's eye - and was that a tear, rolling down the old man's face? The young God's heart threatened to break through his ribcage, it was beating that fast. Once Odin was able to tear his eye away from the small baby girl, he immediately looked at his son. "She is absolutely beautiful." He said with a smile, before he reached out and placed a hand on Loki's shoulder. "I am so proud of you, my son. Now you understand the true meaning of life. Protecting and caring for this small creature in my arms. Look, how far you've come. You're not the man you've been all those years ago. You found love, have a wonderful woman by your side and now you're a father. You are wiser, stronger and much more mature. Better... You are happier. I couldn't be prouder as I am now, in this moment." Odin smiled - genuinely, proudly and patted his son's shoulder. Loki couldn't believe his ears, had to suppress the upcoming tears. His father never said something like this before - and it made the young God incredibly happy. It meant a lot to him. "Thank you, father." The Allfather nodded and patted Loki's shoulder again. "Now let's join our women. I'm sure they are awaiting us already. It's tea-time after all." He watched his father turn around and leave, Ella still happily gurgling in his arms. Loki smiled. What more could he want for his life?

#loki laufeyson x female reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #loki x pregnant reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston characters #the baby fever au

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access--granted · 8 months

Text

Too Slow

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Anon asked: how about a drabble with reader x luis in another apocalypse universe of your choice? they're just regular, run-of-the-mill people trying to survive a sudden outbreak of some kind, scavenging in a crumbling grocery/convenience store. maybe something angsty happens at the end? idk i just think it'd be interesting to see luis in a different zombie apocalypse universe xD A/N: Hoo boy, anon, do I have something for you 😂 you asked for angsty, and I think I delivered on that pretty well 🤭 I hope you like it because it hurt to write and they're thrown right into the thick of it 🥹 I didn't choose a specific zombie apocalypse universe for this, they're just out here trying to survive. Also, since no gender was specified, I've gone with gender-neutral and friendship rather than romance. I hope that's okay! :) TW: Angst, Implied major character death, mentions of blood and mild gore, use of guns. Pairing: Luis Serra x GN!Reader (Friendship) WC: 1,169

“Luis, can’t you at least try looking for something useful?” You poke your head over the counter, watching the Spaniard rifle through the cigarette kiosk, throwing empty cartons on the floor, his search for an untouched box, so far, unsuccessful.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at,” Luis responds, turning his head to look at you with a playful smile. “Cigarettes are vital. Without them, I might lose my mind.”

You scoff, leaving it at that as you return to what you were doing just a second before. You’re on the floor, searching all the bottom shelves in this tiny convenience store. The area had been quiet when you first arrived, and it had felt like a miracle you’d even come across this place after several days on the road, passing nothing but abandoned homes and stripped cars. It’s clear this place has already been scavenged and gutted of its stock at least a dozen times before, but you and Luis are willing to take your chances, having gone hours without food.

So far, all you’ve found are a few expired cereal bars, some painkillers from the medicine section and a bottle of lukewarm mineral water. It’s not much, but it’ll do just fine until you find somewhere else to raid. You stuff your findings into your satchel, running the back of your hand across your forehead to wipe away the sweat beading from your pores. The air is humid; a storm is coming as thick grey clouds sit stagnant in the sky outside.

“A-ha!” A triumphant Luis draws your attention back to him, and you scramble to your knees before standing up, patting the dust off your knees. When you look his way, he’s holding up a carton of cigarettes like they’re a goddamn medal of honour. They’re perfectly unopened– still in their cellophane wrapping, even. “It seems the universe is on my side,” he remarks, looking so proud of himself. It makes you laugh, shaking your head.

“How do you always manage to get exactly what you want?” Swinging your satchel over your shoulder, you watch him. He’s already torn the cellophane off and popped a cigarette between his lips.

“I guess I’m just lucky–”

It all happens so fast. One second, Luis is proudly showing off his found treasure, about to relish in his first smoke since a few days ago, and the next, he’s grappling with an infected that came out of nowhere. Turns out the corpse hunched over in the far corner hadn’t been dead when you checked upon arrival.

You scramble to your back pocket for your pistol– knife, anything. A blood-curdling scream bounces through the store, a chunk of flesh ripped from Luis’ shoulder, your eyes wide and pupils quivering as you watch, mindlessly taking shots at the monster, blood splattering out of bullet holes in rotting flesh until you focus enough to aim for the head. Bang. Thud.

The walking corpse crumples to the floor, and Luis staggers and falls on his backside, blood flowing consistently from the wound in his shoulder. Somehow, that cigarette is still perching perfectly between his lips. You’re too stunned to speak, to move. Instead, you stand frozen in place and watch your friend bleed out, cussing under his breath. He doesn’t seem scared, though, at least not to the naked eye.

Luis clutches his bleeding shoulder, using his free hand to dig his lighter out of his pocket. You’re still standing across from him, the realisation of what just happened dawning on you, hitting you like a truck hurtling down the highway.

Luis lights his cigarette, taking a long drag while he rests his head against the side of the counter. His face gets lost momentarily in a plume of smoke as it exits his lungs. His eyes meet yours, his voice pulling you out of your stun.

“Well… shit,” he says, voice strained and face twitching with pain, “I guess I ran out of luck– too slow.” He grits his teeth before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. Tears start spilling from your eyes just as the rain begins to fall outside; the first sound coming out of your mouth is nothing but a sob while you stutter towards Luis and kneel at his side. Your trembling hand rests on his leg.

“This– it’s my fault,” your voice gets stuck halfway up your throat, “I should’ve put a bullet in its head before. I should’ve–”

“Don’t.”

“But–”

“Don’t. This isn’t your fault, my friend. It wasn’t moving. You weren’t to know.” Luis looks at you, keeping the cigarette between his lips. He reaches up to ruffle your hair and sweep the tears away from your cheeks. “Sneaky little bastard, eh?”

You choke on a sob– and a bit of a laugh, and you hate it. You and Luis have been surviving together for months. The idea of having to carry on alone terrifies you. The fact that he won’t be around anymore utterly shatters you.

Noises arise from the surrounding area, bringing your and Luis’ attention to the door at the front, then the one at the back. Trash cans clatter, and feet start dragging. The screaming and gunfire likely drew attention. You need to get out of here.

“Come on, we’ve gotta go,” you sniff, moving to bring Luis to his feet again, but he pulls away and gives you that look. The look you’ve been given far too many times by too many people you’d grown fond of throughout this whole fucked up apocalypse. With Luis, though, it hurts a million times more.

His smile is genuine, yet so sad, as he says, “We both know I’m not going anywhere. I’m a dead man walking.” You shake your head, about to protest. You’re not having any of this– “Y/N, I mean it. You need to get out of here. Now.”

A door handle starts rattling in the back of the store, out of sight, but the clock is ticking. Moans of the infected start multiplying, filling the air that had been silent moments ago. Your eyes meet with Luis’ again. You’re pleading with him silently, but his fingers are curling around the grip of his handgun, easing it out of his belt, his cigarette having already burned down to the butt.

He has accepted his fate.

“Go. Run, and don’t look back.”

Thorns squeeze around your heart, piercing it, tearing it to shreds. Lips quivering, you lean in to press a single, lingering kiss on his forehead. For a second, you think you hear Luis’ breath shake as he leans into your lips.

You stagger to your feet, pistol in hand, and turn to the entrance. ‘Run, and don’t look back.’ Quaking legs carry you forward, gaining speed clumsily as you burst through the door, cold rain hitting your skin as a gunshot resonates from inside the store, and your blood runs cold.

Oh, how one moment of misjudgement can turn into such agony.

#resident evil #x reader #luis serra #luis serra navarro #luis sera x reader #luis x reader #re4 luis #luis re4 #re4 remake #luis resident evil #reader insert #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

You're Trouble

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yes - anon (i luv u, truly)

Prompt: You’re the girl during the Trouble performance who gets her face smushed by Elivs. When you run into each other at the police station after the fight breaks out, you give him your info. He shows up later looking worse for wear, and it’s your job to fix him up. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Blood (just a little, nothing too graphic), cops, I don't think anything else but lmk if you see something!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 3941

A/N: oh man...i love this i have to say. getting to rewatch this scene in slow motion??? yes pls. also the second gif @ the bottom is from the shannara chronicles (thanks efc for the link lol) + that's is how you should imagine him during the one scene. you'll see what i mean ;)

🦋 mila

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“Turn that racket down!” your mom yells from downstairs. “And you’d better hurry up or you’ll be late!”

“We’re comin, ma!” you yell back, reaching to turn the volume down on your record player.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doin this!” says your best friend, Jocelyn. She’s pulling a sweater down over the top of her dress while trying not to ruin her freshly applied makeup.

“I know! I’m so excited I could scream!” you say back, and grab the album cover for the record. You hold it up in the light and sigh. “Oh look at ‘im, Jocelyn. He’s just perfect.”

Jocelyn folds her hands on your shoulder, resting her chin on it and sighing.

“Oh Elvis…”

“Girls! If I have to-”

“We’re comin, ma!” you yell back, slightly more angry this time around. “I can’t take her screamin at us one more time. You go on down. I’m just gonna tidy up a bit.”

Jocelyn nods and leaves to go downstairs while you stop the record player and place the vinyl carefully back into the cover. You hold it out one more time and press a small peck to the image. When you pull back, you see that you’ve left a big red kiss mark on his cheek and you chuckle. As you put it back, your eyes track a small piece of paper resting on your dresser. On it you’d written your full name, address, and phone number. It’s a stupid idea, but you think maybe…just maybe if you could somehow slip it into his pocket…

You shake your head and put the note down, glancing in the mirror one last time before leaving, just to make sure that your parents won’t be able to see what you’ve got on underneath. Your eyes flick down to the piece of paper one last time and you snatch it up, stuffing it in your pocket and wincing with embarrassment. Then, you hop down the stairs two at a time.

After a few minutes of yelling from your mother and backtalking from you, your older brother, Johnny, finally gets you out the door and into the car. You ride mostly in silence, other than the sounds of you and Jocelyn squealing with excitement every few minutes. You can hear the crowd before you can even see it. As Johnny pulls up to Russwood Park, you and Jocelyn press your faces agains the glass of the windows. Jocelyn is practically bouncing out of her seat, and you aren’t far behind her. Johnny pulls to a stop.

“Be careful tonight, girls. I’ve heard bout some pretty crazy things happenin at these Elvin concerts,” he said.

“Elvis, James,” you say dryly.

“Well he’s a troublemaker, whatever his name is. Be careful, and be ready to go home by ten o’clock. Deal?”

You both nod, your smiles ready to burst off your faces.

“Aright, have fun.”

You lean over the seat to hug him.

“Thanks, Johnny. Love ya!”

As soon as you and Jocelyn have hopped out of the car, you both jump up and down, squealing and shrieking. The crowd gathered is already much larger than you expected, and they’re loud, too. Once you’re sure Johnny is out of sight, you both rip your sweaters off to reveal tops that your parents were never approve of. Your skirt is a deep red which perfectly compliments the black sweetheart neck top you’d bought. The whole top half is sheer and puts your shoulders and neck proudly on display. Your parents would probably combust if they could see you.

“Oh no,” Jocelyn whines. “Look at the size of that crowd! We’ll never see him from way back here.”

You grab hold of her hand, interlocking your fingers, and look at her determined.

“Oh yes we will,” you respond. “Cause we’re gonna make it to the front of that crowd.”

You start dragging Jocelyn behind you, elbowing and sneaking your way through the crowd and around all the standing bodies. As you near the front of the group it gets hard to navigate through the people, who really don’t want to give up their places.

“Move over, ya prude!” you shout to a young girl in a red and white striped dress.

You barely hear her protest as you weave through the crowd. Finally, you slap your hand on top of the makeshift stage with a satisfied smile. You yank Jocelyn up next to you and shrug.

“Told ya!” you have to shout now, with the crowd screaming and a line of American-themed women dancing.

As you peer over some of the fans’ heads, you notice a merchandise table with Elvis’ name and face on everything you could think of. You also see tons of police officers lining the sides of the crowd. You point and laugh with Jocelyn. Suddenly, screams erupt from behind you. You jump to try and see above the heads, but it’s no use.

“What’s happenin??” you ask, and Jocelyn shrugs.

“He’s here!!” someone shouts. You turn and grab Jocelyn’s hands, smiling so hard your face aches.

They must be right because the female dancers scurry off the stage and a man in a white suit jacket takes hold of the microphone. He starts yelling, trying to get the crowd hyped up, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. You’re far too busy trying to get one glance of the King himself. The heads in the crowd bob up and down and shift like a thousand fish in the sea, but you just need to catch one tiny fish. You are peering through a small hole in the group when someone shifts. Your mouth drops open. There he is.

“Elvis Presley!!” the announcer yells, and screams erupt all around you.

You clamp a hand over your mouth as he walks onto the stage. He makes his way toward the center, and you bite onto your fingers. He is so much more handsome in person. And the way he walks. It’s like he owns the world. His black hair lays floppy in his eyes, and he peers out into the crowd with dark eyes. Suddenly, he’s looking right at you, and your hand falls from your face, leaving you gawking with an open mouth. He smirks and winks. You grab onto Jocelyn’s hand, but neither of you can move.

“Did you see that?” you shout, and Jocelyn clenches her teeth together with a vigorous nod.

“He looked right at ya!” she says.

As he centers himself to the mic, the crowd starts to grow quiet.

“There’s been a lotta talk bout the new Elvis,” he starts, and the crowd erupts into a chorus of boos. “Course, there’s that other guy.”

He lifts his hand into the air and wiggles his pinky finger. You aren’t sure what it means, but the way he flaunts it makes you think maybe he isn’t supposed to be doing it.

“You ain’t nothin but a hound dog, cryin all the time,” he sings, and you feel your heart skip about a million beats. The crowd cheers around you. You can’t tear your eyes away as he grips onto the microphone and glances around, as if he’s thinking about something important. You and Jocelyn clutch each others fingers hard.

“There’s a lotta people sayin a lotta things,” he continues. “Course you gotta listen to the people that ya love. But in the end you gotta listen to yourself.”

The crowd erupts into cheers again, and you squeeze Jocelyn’s hand.

“And I want you to know those New York people ain’t gonna change me none,” he shouts.

You bite your lip, practically buzzing from excitement. He rips the guitar off and hands it to a bandmate. When he returns to center stage, it’s like someone’s lit a fire in his eyes.

“I’m gonna show you what the real Elvis is like tonight!” he shouts, holding up his arm.

The band starts to play, and he belts out his song. Your favorite of his songs.

“If you’re lookin for trouble, you came to the right place. If you’re looking for trouble, then look right in my face,” he sang in that deep southern voice that you’d learned every variation of. “I was born standin up, and talkin back. My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack.”

Your heart literally thumps against your chest as he sings raspily. It sounds so much more intense in person than it does on your radio at home. Jocelyn starts to scream, bouncing up and down. You throw your hand over your mouth again, trying to breathe in and out slowly as he tosses his head around like a ragdoll. You can’t help but shriek when he seductively twists the microphone stand with one hand.

He wanders over to where you and Jocelyn are standing and gazes into the crowd. You’re gripping each other so tightly you aren’t sure you’ll ever use your fingers again. One of the girls near you is literally crawling onto the stage, and Elvis is standing so close that she probably could touch him if she tries. The way he holds the microphone as if it’s a dance partner makes your chest heave. Your eyes hungrily trail down his body and latch onto his fingers on the top of the microphone. He starts to wiggle his body like you’ve watched him do so many times on television, and you join Jocelyn in jumping.

Suddenly, he throws his body up and crashes down onto his knees. Right in front of your face. Jocelyn rips her hand free from yours to cup it around her mouth and scream. Your fingernails latch onto your hair and pull at it, as he pushes his pelvis up directly toward you. His eyes turn upward, dark and dangerous, and he looks right at you. Smirking a little, he leans down and curls his fingers around your jaw, forcing you to face him and only him. His fingers dig into your skin, and your hands grasp at his sleeves. He sings right to you, and you can feel all the blood being drained from your body. You don’t even have the self control to scream. He winks before dragging his fingers along your jawline and releasing your face. He smiles smugly and walks backward to center stage. Your chest is heaving, and you can barely move enough to blink.

He drops the mic stand from one hand and smoothly catches it with the other, leaning over it to sing as if it he was dipping a dancing partner. You are still heaving with deep breaths as Jocelyn grabs hold of your shoulders.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” she shouts over and over and over again.

You can’t take your eyes off of him as he dances and moves around on stage. He falls onto the ground, bent over and screaming into the mic. When he rolls onto his back, the feeling in your body starts to come back to you, and you laugh loudly. He is wild, out of control, illegal. And you can’t get enough. Everything starts to move too quickly. At some point you think you see him laying in the middle of the crowd and then crawling back onto the stage, screaming.

The next think you know, Elvis is being hauled offstage by some police officers and people are screaming and running. As they drag him away, the crowd starts pushing and everyone sprints frantically in different directions, not knowing what to do. You grab for Jocelyn’s hand but she slips from your sweaty grasp. As you stumble around, someone grabs hold of your arm. You wriggle free of his grasp, turn, and slug him square in the face.

“You don’t touch me!” you shout. You turn and push people away as they try to run around or straight into you. “Jocelyn!!! Jocelyn!!”

Someone else grabs your hand, and you turn to punch them. This time, it’s a police officer and he snags your wrist with a handcuff.

“What the hell’s your problem?!” you scream, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Let me go! I didn’t do nothin!”

“Y/N!” you hear Jocelyn’s voice, but you can’t move around to find her. The officer lifts you up and practically drags you into the police car, even though you kick and beat on his back the whole way there.

Once you’re in the cop car, you run your fingers through your hair and try to bring your breathing down to normal. As soon as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve been arrested, you start panicking about what your parents will think. And how you’ll get out of jail without them finding out. Then, you worry about Jocelyn and whether she’s alright. By the time you get to the police station, you’re hands are shaking ever so slightly and you’re exhausted.

The officers guide you out of the car and into the police station, sitting you down in a room while they process your papers. You pick at your nails but hold your head high. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and you’d swear to it in court. You sit for what feels like hours before someone comes into the room. It’s your brother, Johnny, who enters with a solemn face.

“Johnny!”

You try to stand up, but the handcuffs prevent you from moving. You crash back down into the seat and stare at your brother.

“What in the Sam Hill is goin on here?”

You shake your head.

“Johnny, I didn’t do nothin wrong! A fight broke out and some man grabbed me! I mean, I guess I punched him in the face pretty good, but he deserved it! He was tryin to hurt me! I-”

Johnny holds up a hand and just shakes his head.

“Get in the car,” he says.

“Well wait, where’s Jocelyn?” you ask, feeling guilty for forgetting about your friend.

“She’s already home. She said she ran as soon as it got violent. She’s the one who called me. Get in the car. We’re going home. And Mom is not to hear about this, you understand?”

You are speechless, so all you do is nod and stand still for the officer to unlock your handcuffs. You feel so reassured to know that Jocelyn is safe. You rub your wrists as you follow your brother out into the waiting room, a tiny smile of relief plastered on your face.

When you enter the lobby, you happen to glance over at the waiting area to see none other than Elvis Presley himself sitting there. He’s slouched back in the chair, his legs spread wide and his head tilted all the way back. He looks very inviting. While Johnny deals with some paperwork at the front desk, you nervously pad in Elvis’ direction.

“Y’alright?” you ask quietly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. His eyes open and head tilts down ever so slightly. A small smile graces his lips.

“Yeah, baby, I’m just fine,” he responds, his voice hoarse.

You can hear Johnny wrapping up and suddenly remember the piece of paper in your pocket. You shove your hand down to see if it’s still there and feel it crumpled up. You finger it for a few seconds trying to decide whether to mortify yourself or not. Realizing that you may never get the chance again, you clutch onto it and frantically step forward to hand it to him. He slowly reaches up and takes it from you.

“In case y’ever need anything,” you whisper. Just as he’s about to respond, Johnny harshly yells your name.

You turn immediately and follow him outside and into the car. Your car ride home is silent, and you can tell that your brother is disappointed. Not upset or angry, thank god, just disappointed. Disappointment you can deal with. You’ve dealt with it before, thanks to your rebellious streak.

When you get home, it’s very late. Definitely later than your curfew of ten o’clock. You quietly go upstairs and immediately climb into bed, pulling the covers over your face. Tossing and turning, you swear you’ll never go to bed. You can’t stop smiling. Now that you are safe and sound, images of the wild night start to resurface in your mind. You see Elvis, a smirk on that beautiful face of his. You feel his fingers around your jaw. You hear the roar of the crowd and his raspy voice echoing all around you…

You jolt awake. Something is tapping on your window. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to see better, as if seeing would help you hear better. The tapping continues. It sounds like someone is trying to unlock the door to your tiny balcony. With wide eyes, you carefully swing your toes out of bed and frantically look around for something to protect yourself with. You sigh, frustrated, and grab a pair of scissors.

Your feet move slower than death as you approach the door. You gently grab ahold of the curtains and take a deep breath before flinging them open and holding the scissors out defensively. Once you realize who it is, you quickly put the scissors down and unlock the door.

“...Elvis?” you ask in a whisper. He stumbles into your room with a breathless smile.

“Hey baby doll,” he says, and your heart thuds.

“What are you doin here?”

“You said if I ever needed help,” he replies, holding out the scrap of paper.

You take it from him to ensure it’s the paper you’d given him at the police station. Your eyes widen when you realize it is the very same.

You’re about to respond when you notice a little bit of blood dripping from his side. Your breath falls flat and you reach out to put your arms underneath him and support him.

“Oh my god!” you hiss. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Police roughed me up real good,” he responds with a chuckle that quickly turns into a groan.

He leans on you and groans as you drag him to your bed. You pull the blanket taut and lay him on top of it. Yanking the curtains open for more light, you run to the bathroom for some water and a towel. When you return, he’s holding a photo from the bedside table. You examine his wound in the moonlight. It looks like a small cut on his stomach. You thank the stars for the darkness to hide your embarrassment as you speak.

“You’re gonna hafta take your shirt off,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds, sitting up. He tries to lift it off himself but winces at the pain. You quickly move to help, grasping the fabric to gently lift it off his frame. You avoid staring at his naked torso as you pour water from a cup onto the towel. You gently press the towel to his wound.

“Ouch, fuck,” he says, and your hand imemdiately covers his mouth.

Your eyes nervously fly to the door, but you don’t see any light shining underneath. You could feel him chuckling underneath your fingers. You remove your hand.

“Be quiet!”

“Why? Am I not supposed to be here or somethin?”

“Well I ain’t supposed to have no boys up here in my bedroom. Plus, it’s the middle of the night, and we’re we’re up here…alone…”

He says nothing, smirking and glancing down at his crotch. You once again thank the stars that it’s too dark for him to notice your embarrassment.

You shake your head and press the towel deeper into the cut. He hisses and grabs onto your arm with his hand. Your eyes immediately move to his fingers digging into your bare skin. You release a shaky breath and carefully pour more water on the towel.

“I like what you’re wearin,” he says, breathless. You ignore him even though your entire body is screaming.

“Thanks, I wore it just for you,” you respond without skipping a beat. You aren’t looking at him but still catch his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You lean to get a better angle on his wound, not realizing how close to him you are.

“I don’t think I have anything to co-”

You stop in your tracks when you look up and make direct eye contact with his lips, pink and swollen. He has a small cut on the bottom one with a little dried blood. But they still look like the most kissable things in the world. You steady yourself and gently raise the towel to his lips. He catches your wrist.

“What are ya doin?”

“You have some blood there,” you respond, unable to tear your eyes away from his lips. He releases your hand, and you gently dab the towel against his mouth. You reach up to hold his face still, placing your hand on the side of his jaw. You slowly pull back the towel and look at the cut, all cleaned up. For a few seconds, you just stare at each other, both of your eyes travleing everywhere. You start to drop your head but he catches your face with his hand. His fingers curl around your jaw like they had at the concert, and you audibly gasp. He smirks.

“I knew I recognized you,” he mumbles. “You were at my concert tonight, weren’t ya?”

You nod, frozen in his grasp.

“Yeah…,” his eyes trace around your face and body. “I saw you punch the shit outta some asshole, too. Is that why you were in jail?”

You nod sheepishly. He smirks.

“I picked you on purpose, you know. Outta all those girls,” he says, his eyes tracing around your face again. “You wanna know why?”

“Why?” you breathe out.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb and then drags it across your bottom lip.

“I could see the fire in your eyes,” he replies, his eyes glancing between your eyes and lips. “I could tell you were trouble.”

You smirk and lean over, closing your eyes. He pulls your face to him and just barely ghosts his lips over yours. You shudder, clutching onto the towel in your fingers. He brushes his lips against yours again, and you gasp. You feel his mouth curl up into a sinister smile.

“What are you waitin for?” you whisper against his lips.

“For you to tell me what you want.”

“Kiss me.”

He obeys immediately, capturing your upper lip between his. He kisses you hard, gripping your jawbone. Your hand meanders up to his chest, resting on the smooth skin near his heart. He pulls back slowly, painfully slowly. You flutter your eyes open and gaze up into his blue ones. He’s still holding onto your jaw, but more gently now. You lean forward again, pressing your lips to his. You gently push him down onto the bed with the hand you laid on his chest. His fingers leave your jaw to wind around the back of your neck and thread themselves through your hair. His other hand sneaks onto your waist, gripping you and pulling you on top of him. As soon as you start to put pressure on his body, he groans and accidentally bites your bottom lip. You pull back with a finger flying up to the skin.

“Ah,” he winces. “Sorry, lil mama. I didn’t mean to bite ya. Not yet, anyway.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” you reply, giggling. You touch your lip and seductively drag your fingers across your lips and down your neck. His grin spreads into a smile, and he strokes your cheek.

“You are trouble.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

#elvis #elvis 2022 #milasfics #milaselvisfics #milasthings #milaselviscontent #austin butler #elvis imagine #elvis fic

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thewaywardbirdsnest · 1 year

Text

Long Distance

Zoro could fall asleep anywhere. On the floor, in the car, on a couch in the middle of a crowded party - anywhere, anytime.

So why, then, was he still awake at this late hour, tossing and turning? It was like an itch under his skin that he just couldn’t seem to rid himself of. He had tried adjusting the thermostat, turning over the pillows, removing the duvet and then putting it back on, five different sleeping positions, a white noise app. Nothing was helping. The bed felt too big, he had concluded, which was weird because there wasn’t anything special about the mattress in his London hotel room. Just your run-of-the-mill queen-sized hotel bed, perfectly suitable for someone of Zoro’s size. Yet somehow he still felt like it was too… wait a minute…

“Fuck!” Zoro cursed, flopping onto his back and letting his head bounce off the plush pillow. He let out a long, anguished sigh. “Shit…”

He reached over to flip on the bedside lamp and grab his laptop. A few clicks, a couple rings, and then…

“Hey you! Didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight. It’s gotta be… what, one in the morning where you are? Everything okay?”

Zoro felt something in his chest unknot just seeing the curly-browed bastard on his screen. He could have said something sweet, something like “I missed you”, but what came out was: “You’ve ruined me.”

Sanji frowned, the toothpick he was using to keep his oral fixation in check drooping.

“Pardon?” he asked, giving Zoro a chance to redeem himself.

“I can’t sleep,” Zoro tried again, “because the bed’s too big because you’re not in it with me.”

Sanji’s features immediately softened, his mouth pulled into a sad little half-smile. “I miss you too, baby.”

“Tch…” Zoro looked away, hoping the dim lighting of the room wouldn’t catch the blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks. How could he just say things like that? Zoro still wasn’t used to it. Might never get used to it. But he had to admit (to himself, if no one else) that it felt nice to hear.

“So,” Sanji prompted him, “what can I do to help?”

Zoro sighed heavily and shifted the laptop onto the bed so he could lay down on his side. “I dunno…”

“Hmm…” Sanji hummed thoughtfully as he got up off the couch. “Well, tell you what, I was about to make some dinner. How ‘bout I set my phone up on the counter so we can hang out until you get sleepy?”

“‘Kay,” Zoro agreed, adjusting his pillow.

“Alright, gimme a second.”

Once he had set up the phone at an angle where Zoro could watch him without it being in his way, Sanji got to work. Zoro asked him to talk about what he was making and he was happy for an excuse to ramble about the dish in detail. At first, Zoro prompted him with little questioning noises now and then, but it wasn’t long before his eyelids began to feel heavy.

They lapsed into comfortable silence filled by the sounds of sizzling onions, knives on cutting boards and Sanji humming some tune Zoro vaguely recognized from one of the jazz records Sanji would occasionally throw on while cooking. It felt cozy and familiar, a little piece of home even while he was an ocean away from his partner.

Before he knew it, Zoro was drifting off to sleep. On the edges of his consciousness, he just barely heard an affectionate chuckle and the words “g’night, marimo” before he finally slipped into a deep sleep.

When he woke to his alarm clock the next morning, he was surprised to see the video chat was still open on his laptop.

Sanji was curled up on his side in bed, fast asleep. Zoro ran a finger over the screen, tracing the curve of Sanji’s cheek. “G’night, curly,” he whispered before closing his laptop and getting up to start his day.

Just two more sleeps. Two more sleeps and he’d be home with him…

#sanji cooking #Domestic ZoSan Moments #zosan #sanzo #established zosan #modern au #drabble #fluff #asmr #inspired by HelloHarubo's on Twitter #bird's twitter threadfic archive

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jae-is-confused · 2 years

Note

hello!! could you perhaps write a will byers x transmasc reader? the reader is struggling with dysphoria, and will would try to help in the best way he can :) have a lovely day <3

Oh my- you have no idea how happy this request makes me! And yes I can absolutely do that.

Will Byers x Ftm!Reader

Romantic/Platonic/Unspecified

Pronouns: He/Him

D/n [Deadname]

Summary: Will comes to visit you in Hawkins from California right before you start freshman year. Even in the little time you were apart Will matured alot. Physically and mentally. As for you...

TW's/Disclaimers: Dysphoria, Implied Homophobia, Childhood Trauma, idk anything else :/

You nervously bounce your leg as you wait for Steve's car to pull into the familiar gravel driveway. Will was coming to visit after moving to California over the summer. Will had already started school and was about 2 months in.

In Hawkin's, school started later in the year because of what happened at Star Court on July 4th. Not that you were complaining, it saved you from the annoyingly jugdy kids at school.

You looked out the window again and let out a puff of air when you saw it was empty. With Steve being your brother and your... absent, parents, you were really free to do whatever you wanted.

You always knew you didn't really feel comfortable with being referred to with feminine terms so when you were in the 4th grade you asked Steve to cut your hair. And from there you somehow got everyone to call you y/n, even the teachers, and it was as if d/n never existed. Even to your friends. And especially to Will.

So, yes. You were a closeted trans man in the 80's, with a boyfriend. You were like a target for bullies and that was the last thing you wanted to drag Will or your friends into, so you never told them.

You looked around at your surroundings and sighed. You thought it would be a good idea to station everything at the old Byers residence. They turned everything off, like the electricity and the landline, except for the plumping. Meaning you had a working bathroom and kitchen. Yay.

You stand up from your spot on the floor and walk down the hall to the bathroom. You planned to just do a quick once over in the mirror to make sure you didn't look like a complete mess. And to be honest, it was just that, a once over. Fixing your hair a bit and straightening your hoodie.

But when you glance down you notice the slight outward curve of your chest, the result of not wearing your chest binder. It wasn't anything fancy, just one used for costumes in theaters. That meant you couldn't wear it for more than a couple hours.

You jump a bit when you hear the repeated honking coming from the front of the house. Look in the mirror one last time and slouch the best you can to cover your chest. You already had bad posture so it looked pretty normal.

Running to the front of the house you yank open the front door and stare at the boy getting out of the car. When he steps out he immediately makes eye contact with you and smiles. Oh, that smile.

Shutting the car door, Will makes his way over to you. You smile and meet him halfway, throwing your arms around his middle, his around your shoulders. Will laid his head in top of yours and chuckled lightly.

"Hey." He says simply. You look up at him slightly and take in his face. His hair was shorter, his face was more defined, and he was ALOT taller than you now. Tall enough for your head to fit perfectly under his chin.

"Hi." You breathe out. You look behind Will to makes sure your brother was gone, and sure enough, he was. Will bags sat lazily in the driveway. You turn back to Will and lean up a bit, Will looking surprised but understood, leaned down.

Your lips meet in the middle and it made you want to cry. This would have been your breaking point in the bathroom but something else happens.

Will puts a hand on your cheek and slowly slides it under your chin, and scratches. He fucking scratched your chin. You pull away to see a hysterical Will.

"Dude. Did you just scratch my fucking chin? Do I look like a cat to you?" You pull away from your boyfriend and deadpan at him as he tries to pull you back while laughing a bit. He pecks the corner of your mouth and pulls you into another hug, his chin on your head again.

"Hm, well, you share similarities."

"Fuck you."

You and Will spent the entire day with the party, traveling from the arcade to to the cinema and then back to Will's old house.

Over the course of a couple hours everyone started to leave, going home due to curfews. After everyone left, leaving you and Will by yourselves, you lead Will out to the back of the house and out into the woods.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" He laughed, he stumbled over a dip in the ground and grabbed your arm for balance.

"You'll recognize in a second." You smiled warmly at him. Will couldn't help the grin that spread across his face when you smiled at him.

He couldn't beleive he found someone that actually liked and cared for him. Not to mention was not only ok with his sexuality but had the same feelings as he did.

As you pulled Will into the clearing everything seemed to click for him. Castle Byers. It was still destroyed but there none the less. Will felt small tears in the corner of his eyes, the hurt and realization of what he did to the small structure all rushing back to him.

"I know that Castle Byers was more between you and Jonathan but I thought I could help you rebuild it or if not we could just-" You were cut off by Will pulling yoyr body into his, your head hitting his chest.

You instantly wrapped your arms around his torso when you felt drops hit your neck. Will had burried his nose into your neck, his hands placed on your waist.

"I'm sorry..." He hiccuped. You pulled his face from your neck and placed a hand on the back of his head.

"Hey, why are you sorry? I shouldn't have taken you here. I knew this was between you and Jonathan, I just wanted to make you feel better." You frowned at Will when he shook his head at you.

"No it's not that, I guess I just haven't gotten over everything that has happened in the last 3 years." He laughed. He wiped his cheeks with one hand, keeping the other on your waist.

"Understandable. I still haven't gotten over everything everything either. You went through a rough time with the mind flayer, the Demogorgon, and Mike." You said the last part bitterly making Will smile. He nodded and grabbed your hand, fiddling with your fingers a little.

"Can we go back to the house and just, lay down? No, fuck- how do people ask this? Cuddle? Is that weird?" Will said shyly. In that moment you felt all the color drain from you face. Hugging was one thing. Will was usally very gentle with his hugs, so the close proximity wasn't a problem.

But cuddling? Will would smother you with as much love and affection as he could. You know that for a fact because he talks about it all the time. You two never get a moment together so you never do more than sit on the couch together with Will's arm around your shoulder.

You knew it. It was going to happen some day but you never thought that day would be today. This is the day Will finds out about your chest. About everything.

So here you are now, your back pressed against Will's chest as you lay on the piled up blankest and pillows. You can feel Will's breath on the back of your neck as you both enjoy each others company.

You smile as you hold Will's hands that are wrapped around your torso. This wasn't as bad as you thought it would be-

"Hey." Will whispered, his lips bairly brushing the nape of your neck.

"Yeah?" You whispered back. You felt him rub his thumb on your side.

"Can you face me? I wanna hug you." There it was.

"I-huh-sure." You reluctantly turned to your other side and faced Will. He looked at you for a second and placed a kiss on your temple. You watched as Will's eyebrows pulled together in confusion

"Are you alright? Your whole body is really tense." You were intentionally holding your arms in front of your chest and trying to keep a decent gap between you and Will.

You nodded and tried to untense your body, to calm Will's concerns. It didn't really work though.

"Come here." Will tried to pull you closer but your stupid body's first instinct was to fully retract its self from Will.

Shit.

Will's eyes went wide with hurt as you quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. You opened the door, not even bothering to close it all the way[big mistake], and yank your hoodie over your head.

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, standing there in only a regular bra. Your arms had no muscle to them, your waist was curved and defined, your face was rounded out compaired to actually having defined cheekbones.

Everything was wrong.

It wasn't as it should be.

You stand there and cry, not knowing that Will stood by the door, peeking in through the crack and listening. Listening to your heart breaking sobs. He didn't even care about the fact that you clearly did not have a flat chest.

He just wanted you to be ok.

He slowly creaked open the door, making your heart drop. You turned to look at a surprised but teary eyed Will. You felt everything come crashing down when Wills eyes ran up and down your body.

You completely break down. You crouch down onto the floor and hug your knees to your chest. Your chest.

Will stood there in shock and sadness. He didn't know what to do. If he was being honest, he was usally on the other end of this.

Will slowly walks over to you and sits next you on the wall.

"I-um." Will pauses to breathe out and then continues. "I'm not mad just, hurt, you didn't tell me." You didn't look up. You were scared of what you would find.

"This doesn't change how I see you. You're still you. You're still the same guy that made me step back and go 'Whoa, he's pretty' " Will turns to look at you and grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers, making you look at him.

When you do Will leans in and places a gentle and caring kiss on your lips. You sat shocked for second but quickly returned it.

You both pull away and Will touches his forehead to yours.

"You're still the same guy I fell in love with." Will let's a few tears slip past his eyes as he pulls you into a hug. You silently sob into his shoulder while Will rubs your back.

"I feel like I've been gaslighting you from the beginning. I'm not a real guy. You like guys. I don't have a flat chest or a dick-" Will laughs and puts your face in between his hands.

"Y/N! I don't care if you have a dick or not! I love you for you." Will grins at you, brushing the hair stuck to your forehead away.

"Will from my knowledge gay guys like men with dicks." You frown at him.

"Well then stop grouping me with other gay guys. You are a guy. And to be honest, I never really cared for what's under the clothes. I was never really-uh, interested, in that kind of stuff." Will's cheeks turn pink as he looks down at his lap, trying to avoid contact.

"So, what does that mean, exactly?" You asked timidly. Will looked at you with the most astonished look on his face.

"Are you kidding? After everything I just said you still don't understand?" Will laughed and put his face in his hands as you shook your head. "Your going to make me say it, aren't you?" Will sighed and kissed your head, letting his lips linger.

"You are the only one for me y/n Harrington." Will mumbles against your forehead. You smile and pull him into a quick kiss, quickly pulling back to hug him.

You both sit there, you straddling Will legs while you hold each other, unmoving from the bathroom floor. Until you remember something.

"Love." You say quietly into Will shoulder. Will pushes you back a bit to look at you, giving you a quizzical look.

"Huh?"

"Earlier, you said you loved me..." You breathed put refusing to look Will in the eyes. Will's eyes went wide.

"I-I guess I did. I hope that's ok." You grinned at Will and nodded happily.

"More than ok."

After the bathroom ordeal Will kind of disappeared for a while. He assured you that he would be back but you were still nervous due to everything that happened earlier.

You were sitting on the pile of blankets from earlier and eating a package of poptarts while reading a book. It distracted you a little and calmed your nerves slightly.

After maybe 30mins or so Will walked out of his old room, where you and his bags were, holding a roll of socks.

You raised an eyebrow at Will when he stopped in front of you, holding out the hand holding the socks.

"Uh, thanks?" You say, slowly taking the socks from Will "I-uh, what am I supposed to do with these? I'm already wearing socks." Will's whole face was bright red.

"I um, I just thought- I saw this thing in a book where on stage for theater productions where the opposite gender played a male role they would put a sock in their pants to make it look like a- uh..." Will looked down and put his face in his hands, shaking his head in embarrassment.

You had to think for a split second before it hit you.

"WILL! Did you just to tell me to put a sock in my pants so it looks like I have a dick?!"

"I'M SORRY!"

I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED. I enjoyed writting the last part. I love giving others and myself second hand embarrassment :D

#Stranger Things #Will Byers x Male!Reader #male!reader #will byers #mike wheeler #eleven #hopper #x reader #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson x male!reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4

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monsterrae1 · 10 months

Note

Hand kisses with buddie for the soft prompts 🥺👉👈

Sorry it took me a million years, but here's something! Slightly more angst than soft but shhhh hope you like it! (also unedited so don't come for me for any mistakes)

Buck loved Eddie’s hands, they were always somehow soft even if hours of rough work, and a demanding job like theirs should’ve made them calloused and rough; they were healing hands, they often took care of strangers on the field, and they always took care of the people he loved, Eddie always used them to check Chris’ temperature when he was feeling sick, and he was always the first to volunteer to rub Buck’s leg pain away.

They always fit perfectly tangled with Bucks, they were similar in size and that meant that their palms and fingers just fit perfectly with the other, Buck loved holding hands and holding Eddie’s had always been his favorite part of their date nights, Eddie always reaching for his as they walked back to their trucks, squeezing when he got excited talking about whatever he was telling Buck.

Not to mention the way they touched Buck drove him crazy. Once they got together, Eddie took no time at all to learn all the ways he could touch Buck and drive him crazy over and over, always making sure to caress and touch Buck’s favorite places, sometimes even making him learn about new places where he wanted to be touched.

Buck loved all of Eddie, but his hands held a special place for him; so seeing them getting hurt made him stop in his tracks. Truth be told, it was probably the fact that Eddie had been hurt at all that made him stop in his tracks, but since they were in the middle of a scene, he decided to only focus on the fact that it had been his hands that had been damaged.

It happened too fast for any of them to reach him in time, by the time Buck was by his side, the car door had been slammed shut and bounced off Eddie’s hands where he had been keeping them on the edge of the roof of the vehicle; the drunk driver inside was trying to flee the scene before Eddie finished checking him out because he didn’t want to be arrested.

Buck stared at Eddie’s hands in terror, all of his knuckles had split open with the impact, and Buck was almost sure some of them were broken. Eddie was just staring at them, taking deep breaths, and his face pulled into a grimace

“Eddie,” Buck said softly, putting a hand on his bicep and pulling him away, “Let’s get you checked out, okay?”

Eddie nodded and let himself be guided to the ambulance, Buck watched from the corner of his eyes as Bobby, Chim and Athena guided the driver from his truck to the police cruiser, relieved that at least he wouldn't be hurting anyone else for that night.

“Let's see the damage” He said once they reached her, and Eddie offered her his hands.

Eddie was unusually still as Hen checked him out, cleaning the blood away and patting antiseptic into all of the cuts, Buck wished he could hold at least one of his hands to give him support but instead he settled for staying by his side while Hen finished her assessment.

“I think we should get you to the hospital, get some X rays just in case,” Hen said once she was done cleaning out the wounds and wrapping them.

Eddie sighed, but nodded “Okay,” He said, “Can you guys drop me off?”

Buck rode with them in the ambulance, carefully taking Eddie’s hands and letting them rest on his knees to gently put cold packs on them, Eddie hummed his thanks, he was pressing his lips together trying to breathe through the pain; Hen had offered him painkillers a couple of times, but Eddie had refused them.

“Someone might need them more at a scene”

Buck shook his head, “It’s not like we can’t stock up back at the firehouse, Eds.” But still, Eddie had refused and Buck decided to at least apply ice.

They were at the ER for a couple of hours, they got X rays for both hands and stitched up whatever cuts needed it. In the end only one of his hands turned out to be broken so they put it in a cast and sent them on their way.

“Good thing I’m all moved in, uh?” Buck said on the Uber back to the station, taking Eddie’s bandaged hand and kissing it softly, “Don’t need to use your hands as much”

Eddie gave him a small smile, eyes blinking slowly, Buck was sure he was going to pass out as soon as they got back home since they had finally given him drugs at the hospital.

“Love you,” he slurred, Buck smiled and kissed his hand again before letting it rest on his leg.

“Love you too.”

#answered #buddie #buddie ficlet #Molly 🎨

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scoopertrouper · 1 year

Text

ahoy, maties. i return not with a prompt fill, but with a Steve POV companion piece to this post-S2/pre-S3 post-stancy breakup prompt fill because i'm sick in the head. read at your own risk.

3,400ish words (somehow) of nonsense under the cut.

~*~*~*

i'll be alright [it's just a thousand cuts]

He sees her sometimes.

It’s not like he’s, like, looking for her. He’s not, because no matter what Robin says, Steve’s not a maso…a macho…a mecha…okay, like, one of those weirdos who gets his rocks off by getting smacked around or whatever.

He’s not.

It’s just that it’s kinda hard to totally avoid her. According to her brother, Hawkins is, like, smaller than Thor’s thumbnail – and Christ, he really needs to stop hanging around those little dweebs if that’s the kind of shit he’s absorbing – so it’s hard not to see her. Anywhere. Everywhere.

But it’s usually only just out of the corner of his eye. A flutter of flowery skirt disappearing between the aisles at Melvald’s, or the bounce of perfectly set brown curls right as she’s crossing Main Street, walking with quick little steps that are so purposeful.

(Steve used to spend most of free period making a mess of those curls, tangling them between his fingers, testing how far he could go before she’d swat his hands away. They were soft as one of his mom’s silk scarves, but somehow still not as soft as her lips when they’d curve against his, her little body arching between his hips and the creaky leather of his backseat.)

He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that whenever their paths cross, she’s always just out of focus, blurred at the edges like a messed up Polaroid.

It’s no secret that Steve’s no great lover of the language arts (no matter how many long lectures Henderson’s given him – from the front seat of Steve’s car, that Steve drives him around in – about why that’s hurting him with the chicks).

But he thinks maybe if he did give a shit about similes, or metaphors, or any of that crap that he’d mostly slept through in second period English, that it’d be a pretty decent way to sum up their relationship. A couple pictures that might’ve been pretty if they hadn’t gotten all smudged up.

Oh, and her new boyfriend’s a photographer. How’s that for poetic?

Anyway, Steve would have to be an idiot – more of an idiot – to actually go looking for her. So he doesn’t. Because he remembers how much it had hurt, forcing himself through the last seven months of his own goddamn senior year, seeing her every day and feeling tender as a walking, talking bruise, long after the worst of the damage to his face had faded. It’d been almost fucking unbearable, catching her eye only to see exactly how far he’d fallen reflected in them.

Back then (a whole two months ago) he hadn’t even tried to play it cool, had figured it was still common enough knowledge that she could step on his neck, no questions asked, and he’d probably thank her for it. Ask her to do it again, if only to keep her undivided attention for just one more second.

But that was then. Now, he’s moving on.

Mostly.

Trying to.

It’d help if the universe would cooperate – if, at the same time he’d lost Nancy, he hadn’t also somehow lost every bit of mojo that made Steve Harrington that guy, especially when it came to the ladies.

Because it’s definitely gone, and he didn’t need Tracey Wiltshire – who’d rocked full headgear until, like, the end of sophomore year – to stammer out some lame blow-off to confirm it.

It’s painfully evident every time he looks in the mirror, because he doesn’t see Steve Harrington – basketball star, swim captain, somebody who’s somebody – anymore. He just sees some loser in a shitty Popeye costume (which itches, Jesus). A loser who got laughed out of goddamn Tech.

Whose dad barely throws him more than a dismayed glance over the morning paper – when he’s around to read the morning paper, that is.

Who constantly finds new and creative ways to get splotches of Rocky Mountain Fudge where Rocky Mountain Fudge should never be, and takes home maybe ten bucks in tips on a good night.

Of course Na - Tracey wouldn’t want to waste her time on a dipshit like that. Who would?

But he’s not gonna give up, because he knows the only sure way out of a slump is to shoot through it. Besides, it’s not, like, not fun, letting Robin bust his balls nonstop on the days that they’re teamed up. She’s pretty ingenious, like, he wouldn’t be surprised if she goes home after every shift and shuts herself away in her little dork hidey hole until she’s got at least ten new zingers locked and loaded.

(Most of the time it's fun. More fun when she’s not leveling him with big SAT prep words, because then he has no choice but to try to return fire without revealing that he still has no goddamn clue what a charlatan is, no matter how many times Nancy’d drilled him on it last summer. And – surprise surprise – that usually doesn’t end well for him.

But come to think of it, she has kinda backed off from that lately. So maybe it’s more fun for her the other way, too.)

Anyway, he keeps trying, and ultimately racks up more “You Suck” ticks per shift than Robin has room for on her whiteboard (she’s been talking about starting a ledger, and yeah, that’s exactly what he needs, his failures all neatly leather-bound and cataloged in permanent marker).

You know what, though? It’s fine. It can’t last forever, right? Steve’s a pretty positive guy. Eventually, some girl’s gonna want to buy what he’s selling, even if what he’s selling isn’t a whole bunch more than a final fling with the homecoming king. One last stop on the Hawkins Express before it’s all frat boys and keg stands at Boilermakers tailgates.

(He can only imagine what Robin would have to say about that.)

On one Saturday in late June, he thinks he might be on the verge of a breakthrough. Thinks he’s maybe a free scoop of mint chocolate chip away from talking Lisa Kurtz into the back row of the 7:15 showing of Cocoon – because he’s always kind of wanted to see if her boobs really are bigger than her hair, and he’s running out of time to find out.

Things are going well, so according to the current logic of Steve’s life, that means something’s gotta step in to ruin it. And boy, is that something a doozy – all five-foot-four of her, freshly permed and pretty in pink kitten heels.

It’s been two months since Steve Harrington fully laid eyes on Nancy Wheeler. Two months since he’s admired – before he can stop himself – the little dimple in her chin and the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders, today draped carefully in a demure sundress.

Once upon a time, Steve would have taken great pleasure in wrecking that dainty piece of cotton, fisting it in his hands and bunching it all the way up to her waist.

“Hi,” she says softly, biting her lip, and Christ, how Steve wishes she’d stayed in the blurry outer rim of his brain. Because he’s looking right at her, and it’s blinding, the way she just fucking glows for no good reason. It’s worse than that time in fifth grade, when he’d maybe (probably) burned his retinas after Tommy dared him to stare straight into the sun for five whole minutes (he’d made it about fifteen seconds).

“Hey,” he finds it in himself to reply, and he congratulates himself on the way he stays so chill, right up until Lisa’s cup of mint chocolate chip tumbles out of his nerveless fingers and splatters all over the floor and a little bit all over her shoes.

(She’s not happy. There goes the 7:15 showing of Cocoon, along with his only shot this week at a mark in the “You rule” column.)

Now his date’s gone, stormed out in a cloud of Windsong so thick he can taste it, and gone too are his chances of escaping this encounter with minimal humiliation. Perfect.

(Thank god Robin’s still on her break. At least someone up there is still doing him a solid or two.)

Nancy’s eyes flick once, twice between Steve and the door.

“Am I…interrupting?” she asks slowly, as if this isn’t a public dining establishment, as if she doesn’t have as much right to be here as any other prospective paying customer. There’s a glint in her eyes that he doesn’t even try to decode. He’s not dumb enough to think he can still read Nancy Wheeler.

(That he’d ever been able to read her.)

“Not a chance,” Steve lies quickly, flipping the ice cream scoop with suddenly numb fingers. “Always room for one more on this flotilla of flavor!”

He’s pretty sure that was the right way to use “flotilla”, the way he’d overheard Robin say it last week. Like, ninety percent sure. Well. Sixty.

Also, what is wrong with him?

But Nancy smiles that little smile she used to give him every time he said something painfully dumb that she found charming in spite of herself, so no permanent damage, he guesses.

Not that it matters anymore. Because it doesn’t.

“A flotilla, huh?” she plays along. “That’s…a lot of flavors.”

“Thirty-two, to be exact,” he replies on autopilot. “They, uh, wanted one more than Baskin Robbins.” Goddamn it. He swears he used to be able to talk to girls. This girl, in particular.

“Oh,” she blinks. “Interesting.”

Okay, so. The last time Steve and Nancy had spoken for real, they’d just broken up. Billy Hargrove had basically made scrambled eggs of Steve’s brains. And yet somehow, it had still been less of a disaster than the last minute of his life.

Steve has to salvage this somehow.

“It’s…really not,” he admits. “But you’re sweet to pretend.” Without thinking, he moves to drag his hand nervously through his hair and comes away with his cap instead. Oops.

Still, though, they both laugh, and that’s better. Good, even. Getting back on track. He’s not a total lost cause.

“So, uh, what brings you to Starcourt?” he follows up, and that’s safe enough. Neutral. Boring. “Feels like most of Hawkins has been through here, not that that’s saying much. Haven’t really seen you around, though.”

That’s less safe, but she doesn’t seem offended. In fact, she’s still smiling, and Christ, Steve remembers why he hasn’t gone looking for this. Why he’s pointedly avoiding asking if she’s here alone.

“Well,” she says with a sly little curl of her lips, “I’ve been pretty busy. But – someone told me I was missing out on thirty-two flavors of ice cream.” It's almost flirtatious, until she steps forward and winces. “Actually, I think one of them’s on the floor.”

The floor…? Crap. Lisa’s ice cream. It’s still splattered all over where he dropped it.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Steve starts, warmth creeping up his collar. “I can - I can get that cleaned up.”

Ignoring Nancy’s protestations, he scrambles for the mop bucket they have to constantly keep within reach. Of course, it’s nowhere to be found – which means it’s definitely in the back room, which means he definitely can’t get it without drawing Robin’s attention. He pauses, debating.

“No – look, Steve, most of it’s still in the cup, I can just – I can just throw it away.”

Steve is circling the counter to assess the damage just as Nancy is crossing his path to get to the garbage can, and they’re one perilous step away from unwittingly splitting a hefty splotch of Maritime Mint Choco Chip when his reflexes kick in.

On instinct, his hands wrap around Nancy’s bare shoulders to stop her just before they collide and – oh. Oh.

See, he hasn’t touched Nancy Wheeler in damn near nine months, and now his - his skin is on her skin. She’s soft, and warm, and his palms look so big against the slim curves of her arms. He can feel exactly where goosebumps are prickling against the pads of his fingers.

This angle also gives him a perfect, painful view of the swoop of her neck that he’s never quite been able to put out of his head. There’s a dull flush creeping up her collarbone, and for one unhinged moment he wonders what she’d do if he just buried his face there, pressing his lips heavy against that searing hollow until she’s gasping, like he’s done so many times before.

He catches her gaze. Her eyes are bright under the fluorescents, and he can’t help but picture them glassy with alcohol and resentment, punctuated by a sullen mouth and punch-stained blouse. Staring him down like he’s some kind of Upside Down pond scum. Bullshit.

He has no idea what she sees now, but it probably isn’t much of an improvement.

Steve swallows, and steps back.

“Sorry,” he says roughly, retreating back behind the safety of the counter, heart pounding. Nancy looks relatively composed as she neatly disposes of her trash, but he at least still knows her well enough to notice how her fingers curl tightly around her purse strap, the only sign that she’s a fraction as shaken as he suddenly is.

Ask her what she wants. Ask her what she wants and give it to her so they can start pretending this conversation never happened as quickly as possible.

“So, uh, busy? What’s – what’s up in the world of Wheeler?”

For fuck’s sake, it’s like his mouth is completely disconnected from what’s left of his brain.

“Oh, uh.” Nancy looks startled, like that’s not what she’d been expecting him to say. “Yeah. I got an internship at the Hawkins Post with Jonathan.”

So. No tiptoeing around it. Steve gives himself credit for not flinching like he wants to, for nodding his head like that simple statement hasn’t landed like a gunshot.

“Nice. Probably a way cooler gig than dishing out sorbet to all the Jazzercise moms,” he cracks, only half joking.

She doesn’t laugh, though. Her face drops and she kind of hunches in on herself, and he instantly feels like shit even though he doesn’t think he said anything to be sorry for, doesn’t know what could’ve made her react like that. Good one, Steve.

“You might be surprised,” is all she gives him in response. He doesn’t know what to make of that. And honestly, it’s not his job to make something of it anymore, so he lets it go, and they linger in awkward silence for a few seconds.

For once – this one time only – he wishes that snot-nosed Sinclair brat would barge in, flanked by her entourage of equally snotty, pint-sized little dweeb friends, loudly demanding free samples of every flavor. That would at least give him a way out of this.

“Hey Steve?” Nancy looks at him like she’s steeling herself, and he recognizes that look, used to dread it back when they were dating. Time, he finds, hasn’t really changed the way he feels about it.

“Nancy?” he parrots back, defensive for no particular reason.

“The reason I came here today – that is, I just wanted to see if…” She cringes, trails off uncharacteristically, and he waits her out, with mounting unease.

Patience isn’t his strong suit, but he’s found that for Nancy Wheeler, he’s usually willing to try to be the things he’s not. For all the good it does. Did.

She sighs, and tries again.

“I just wanted to ask – how, how are you –”

“Hey, honey, if you’re gonna get your ice cream, get a move on. I still need to stop at the dry cleaners.” A bottle blonde perm pops into the shop, and Steve nearly exhales with overwhelming…relief? Disappointment?

Saved by Karen Wheeler.

She pauses, and Steve sees her notice him in real-time, watches the surprise dawn in her eyes as she identifies who’s behind the counter. “Oh. Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler.” Karen’s always been nice enough to him, but he’s never been too sure how much she actually likes him. Like mother, like daughter, he guesses.

She gives Nancy an indecipherable look, and honestly, these Wheeler women have got to cool it with all the weird mind reading shit.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Nancy replies to the question spoken out loud, a tad clipped, before turning back to Steve. “So,” she says, drawing out the “o” and tapping the case. She seems to have set aside whatever she was gonna ask. “I – I guess that’s my cue, then. Any recommendations?”

Steve’s already mid-scoop, and he’s absurdly pleased to watch her eyes go wide as he slides the cup of strawberry across the glass to her, with just a tiny flourish.

“Oh,” she stammers, “is that –”

“Strawberry,” he interrupts. “Your favorite. If – if that’s still right.” He doesn’t think that much has changed.

“It is,” she affirms, and there’s a dusting of pink across her cheeks that Steve refuses to believe is anything more than a reflection from the neon sign.

“On the house,” he says when she goes for her purse, and it’s softer than he means it to be, less cheerful – but thankfully steady. He can’t help but smile at her, and she returns it, a tiny, kind thing.

“Thanks,” she says after a moment. “I’ll…see you around?”

Not if I can help it, is what he thinks.

“Sure,” is what he says instead. “Anytime you need a scoop, I’ll be here.”

Nancy raises her spoon in a minute, unbearably cute farewell salute, and the swirl of her dress is the last thing he sees of her as she disappears into the food court.

(On her way out, she takes her $2 and drops it into the tip jar, and he pretends it doesn’t smart a little.)

“Well, well. Do my eyes deceive me, or are we looking at another tally for Team “You Suck”?”

Shit. Robin. Great. He hadn’t even heard her come out from the back.

Steve recognizes the dangerous note of glee in her voice, but for once he doesn’t have the energy to try to head it off at the pass.

“You know,” Robin continues, “Between this and the truly spectacular crash and burn I know you were hoping I wouldn’t see with Lisa, I think that makes today some kind of record-breaking –”

She must pick up something unusual in his face, though, because she cuts off abruptly. “Steve?”

“Huh?” He knows he’s gaping at the door like a dumbass, but it’s too hard to find the willpower to tear himself away while he’s also blocking out the trace after-scent of Nancy’s baby powder-soft perfume.

Robin doesn’t seem to know what to do when they’re not actively playing by whatever rules she’s silently set for the Shit on Steve Variety Hour. After a minute, he feels a nudge to the side of his foot, and he knows instinctively that it’s the toe of one of her battered Chucks.

He doesn’t look, but he’s pretty sure she’s staring at him like he’s the weirdo.

“You…okay, dingus?” She sounds genuinely concerned, and that’s what jolts him out of it. Because no way in hell is he gonna spill his guts about Nancy Wheeler to Robin-whatever-her-last-name-is in front the sample spoons and a few carved up tubs of hard serve.

Even if Robin’s not, like, totally tragic. Maybe she’s even kinda cute. If Steve squints. Hard.

“Dude, not the shoes,” he finally mumbles, though she’d barely touched him. Her silence is heavy and unimpressed, perfectly matching her face (as Steve discovers once he finally gives in and spares her a glance).

Reflexively, he hitches his shoulders up in a stiff shrug. Arranges his face into a smile that he hopes is more cool and carefree than psychotic.

“Course I am,” he says, and it comes easily. He returns her nudge with one of his own and ignores her scowl. “I’m always okay. I’m…I’m Captain Okay.”

Jesus. He’s glad that one never made it into the yearbook.

Robin seems willing to at least pretend to buy it, though, and as she threatens him with the dry erase marker (though he notices she doesn’t make a single tally), he feels the grin he’s pasted on edge into something more genuine. He almost believes it himself, in fact. He is okay.

Will be okay.

(He has to be.)

#stancy #stancy fic #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #my stuff #i had the worst time with this #but it was already 3/4 finished so i had to power through #and then i had to make you suffer with me #i will never try to enter steve's head again #next time i'm writing them TOGETHER #bc i'm tired of this grandpa

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