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jarofstyles · 4 days

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Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

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Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

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“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart.

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”

How could he ever tell her no?

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshots #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfictions

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 7 months

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Beautiful Stranger

Summary: Jake was talked into picking up the coffee order for the group, but little did he know he would be leaving with more than that.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Wow friends…it has been a hot minute since I have posted. Life got crazy and my motivation to write had lessened. But I am back and slowly going through my inbox requests! Thank you all for the constant love and support. Excited to put out more writing for you!

Jake had no idea how he was the one picking up coffee for the group, but here he was standing in line at an overly crowded coffee shop, twenty minutes out of the way of base.

It was obvious that he didn’t fit in with this crowd. Hipster was the word that came to mind seeing the strange outfits and unruly haircuts. Someone wearing a crisp uniform and hair with every strand in perfect place screamed odd man out. He was uncomfortable to say the least and swore up and down he would never be doing this again.

Bradley told him they ordered ahead so he wouldn’t have to worry about going through the order of nearly ten coffees, but scanning the pick-up counter told him he would have to wait some.

He found a small corner out of the way of traffic and took in his surroundings. One of the benefits of a place like this meant people watching would entertain him until the order was ready.

There was a couple splitting a bagel not too far from him. It looked like something out of a cheesy movie, with the whispering and lovey smiles. He had to bite his tongue to keep from snorting out loud.

The next group he saw looked to be college students strung out on entirely way too much caffeine with the way they were frantically typing. He didn’t miss those days of cramming for exams and writing pointless papers at the last minute. But he did think he at least looked a bit more put together when he was their age. Or that’s what he told himself.

Jakes eyes nearly passed over the young woman in the opposite corner from him, quietly writing in a notebook. She was locked into whatever she was working on, despite all the noise around her. Between the music playing throughout the store, expresso machines going off, and countless conversations being had, Jake had no idea how the woman could get any work done. But here she was, chewing on the end of her pen lost in thought, not giving anything around her an ounce of attention.

He found himself starting to really look at her. She was dressed casually but somehow managed to make it look almost professional. Her hair was pulled back into one of those giant clips that he never understood how it stayed in place all day. The makeup was minimal, but she didn’t need it in his opinion.

“Hangman?” Jake nearly jumped when he heard his order called out, breaking him away from the thoughts of the random stranger across the way. He politely nodded thanks to the barista and took the two drink carriers from her. But before he walked out, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder nearly tripping over himself when he saw the woman looking up at him. He recovered as quickly as possible, making it through the door without dropping anything.

It was on the way to base that the thoughts starting spiraling out of control. Was it a coincidence that she looked up as he was leaving? Was it his call sign that pulled her attention? And if so, why? Jake shook his head, stopping himself from continuing down the rabbit hole. He had zero interaction with this woman and yet his mind wouldn’t get off her. It was early in the morning, and he wasn’t fully awake to be making rational decisions. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Bradley and Natasha met him outside the locker room, thanking him for grabbing the coffee. He grumbled a response and went to his locker to put his things up. Bradley didn’t give much thought to the minimal interaction with the pilot, but Natasha did. “Everything go okay with the order?”

Jake nodded his head and shut his locker. “Just don’t see why you need something that expensive and out of the way when we have a perfectly good coffee machine here.” Natasha shook her head with a smirk, realizing just how out of his element he must have been.

“It’s good coffee. Can’t help that I have expensive taste.” Jake huffed out a breath, “Lord help your future husband.”

It was a week later when he got a text from Natasha begging him to grab her a coffee from the same damn place. He went to reply no, when another text popped up saying she was running late and would buy lunch to make up for it. Rolling his eyes, he replied back saying he was feeling something expensive for lunch to match his taste. An emoji with a lovely hand gesture was sent back with the word “fine”, making him chuckle. At least it was one coffee this time.

Jake took a deep breath as he walked into the coffee shop, mentally preparing himself for what seemed like unorganized chaos. The place was packed with nearly ten people in line waiting to order. He looked down at his watch and saw that he was here around the same time as last week, but for some reason today was busier than before.

The counter was filled with drink orders, taking him a minute to read through all the names. His friends’ wasn’t there yet and he turned to find refuge in his corner while he waited. He looked around at the people and while they weren’t the same as before, the types of groups remained the same.

“For someone who looked like he’d rather gouge his eyes out than be here last week, you came back.” A soft voice pulled his attention down to a woman sitting at a table close to him, revealing the beautiful stranger he had just managed to stop thinking about.

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but for some reason words wouldn’t form. He could slap himself for looking like an idiot in front of her. He had never once been at a loss for words with a woman, but something about her made himself conscious of everything he did.

“I didn’t mean to call you out like that. I just didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” She was smiling up at him, making the tops of his ears burn.

“A friend was running late and asked if I could pick up her order.” It was a short statement, but the smile on the woman’s face dimmed a bit. “Must be some girl for you to put yourself through this first thing in the morning.”

Jake quickly shook his head trying to back track, “She’s my teammate and promised me lunch if I did this. Nothing more.” The woman hummed and looked back down at her notebook.

“Well, if you make this a regular thing, I am good friends with the staff and might be able to get your order out a bit quicker. Wouldn’t want you to go into crisis mode over a coffee shop.” She was biting back a smile as she poked fun at his clear discomfort of the place, but Jake couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Darlin’, you have no idea how much that would mean to me.” Why he just committed to this being a regular thing, he had no idea. But he did know he wanted to see the beautiful stranger again.

“Hangman, right?” His eyebrows shot up at the remembrance of his call sign. “Hangman is my call sign. You can call me Jake.” Her eyes sparkled in what he thought was amusement.

“Well Jake, my name is Y/N, and I would be happy to help you out. I am here most days working on things. Why don’t you give me your number so you can text me when you plan on stopping by. That way I can let my friends know to look out for your order.” This girl was nothing but confident. Jake didn’t think he had ever had a woman ask for his number before and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Hangman?” His name was called out like last time, but instead of feeling relieved to get out of the overcrowded shop, he wanted to stay as long as possible. “Better get going, pilot. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” She gave him a wink, something that he normally did with women, and knew he was already in trouble.

He chuckled and shook his head, grabbing the coffee and headed out to work. He hadn’t made it out of the parking lot before his phone vibrated with a text. “Make sure it’s not another week before you come back in. I might forget all about you.” Jake smiled and drove to base, texting her back when he pulled in.

“Wouldn’t want to keep a beautiful woman waiting.” The smile never once left his face as he walked in. Natasha thanked him over and over again for the coffee but stopped when he saw the difference in his demeanor this time. “What’s gotten into you?” He shrugged his shoulders, “You were right. The coffee there is worth the drive.”

She gave him a skeptical look but didn’t push him any further. She would rather have a happy Jake than one who was ready to pick you apart at a moment’s notice.

And that’s how it was for the next month. Jake volunteered to get the coffee, finding any excuse to talk to his beautiful stranger. But the visits became longer, and the texting became more regular to the point where every free moment he had was spent getting to know her. It wasn’t long before Jake asked Y/N on a date, and he quickly found that this girl was the one for him.

Everyone knew something was up with their teammate. He had become less selfish and more of a team player. A feat no one thought was possible but didn’t want to push their luck. It wasn’t until Natasha said she would get her own coffee that the truth came out.

“Jake, you have been getting my order for me for nearly a month now. I can get it this once and give you a break from the drive. Just let me know your order.” Jake shook his head at her and said he had no issues getting it.

Natasha kept pushing until Jake blurted out, “I see someone every time I go there. It is one of the few times the two of us get to spend time with each other because of our schedules.” She stopped and thought about what he had said. Who there would he see every single time?

And then it clicked.

“Oh god. Tell me you aren’t seeing Y/N.” Jake tilted his head in confusion. “How the hell do you know her?”

Natasha looked at him in shock. “Because she owns the coffee shop. And her dad is our boss.”

Jake froze as he took in her words. Owning the coffee shop made sense. She was there all the time and said she knew the staff well, because it was her staff. That didn’t bother him. What did was not knowing who her dad was.

“I didn’t know Maverick had a daughter.” Natasha shook her head.

“Not Maverick you idiot. Admiral Simpson.”

And that was when certain things clicked into place. She looked up at him the first day because she knew the call sign. Her dad had to of talked about them a time or two, especially with this new assignment. The amusement she had when he told her his name was for the same reason. She knew who he was, but he didn’t have the slightest clue who he had been talking to. This girl was okay with the last-minute changes in plans or the late replies due to his schedule because she had grown up with it. The group insisted on getting coffee there because they were supporting someone in the TopGun family.

He was head over heels for the Admirals daughter and was royally screwed when he found out.

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? I always love hearing back from you all! Thank you so much for reading!

Tag list: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @bobfloydsgf @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticassidy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #topgun #hangman #chelsea writes

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bloompompom · 1 year

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Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well.

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ pairings: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ content: ~7.1k word count. enemies-to-lovers, sexual themes, explicit language, alcohol, dubcon elements (drunken kissing), slut shaming. reader discretion advised. ♡ next chapter | series masterlist

★ Chapter One ★

You learn the hard way that what happens at the after-party doesn’t stay at the after-party.

Much to your dismay, the sun shone much brighter up on the twelfth floor. A beam hit the glass table just right, casting a near-blinding glare straight into your eyes. You’d think they’d try and tint the windows or something, at least.

If this morning wasn’t such a tizzy—if you hadn’t been rushed from your apartment without so much as a 'good morning'—perhaps you would’ve thought to grab your sunglasses. You could have really used them now, even in the middle of this meeting. But no, you were forced to decide between burning your retinas or facing the patronizing set of eyes opposite you.

You found the former was less torturous despite aggravating the pounding in your head.

You didn’t know the last time you had a hangover. It was worse than you remembered, but if there was ever a time to get plastered, you supposed last night’s after-party was it.

It was the Monday following a weekend-long music festival, one of the largest—no, the largest of the year. As Saturday’s headliner, the last few months of your life were rightfully grueling, bouncing from one rehearsal to the next. Finally, you could celebrate that your hard work had paid off and come to an end—hence, the after-party.

Last night was well-deserved. It was a break from your meticulously and artificially crafted life. Where everything on-stage and off, even down to when you could pee, was choreographed. Your manager, Pieck, tried to convince you to stay in last night—said you needed the rest. But you blew her off. There was no chance in hell you were going to miss that party.

And that was exactly how you ended up here, hungover, swallowing the bitter taste pooling on the back of your tongue, awaiting your slap on the wrist for letting the tiniest bit loose.

In hindsight, you should have listened to Pieck. Of course, you’d never admit that to her, considering she was the one who had dragged you from bed and plopped you right into the lion’s pit.

Not long ago, you woke up to the midday sun. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know. It was warm behind your eyelids and gave your temples their own heartbeat.

You flopped around your bed in your best attempt at getting comfortable again. Only for a few more minutes, then the room started spinning. With palms pressed into the mattress, you threw your achy body out of bed. In just your underwear, you wore your duvet like a cape. You followed the trail of last night’s clothes and waddled like a sleepy toddler to your kitchen.

The clock on your oven read 1:34 p.m. While it was surprising that no one had come to bother you yet, you were grateful, and you certainly didn't question it.

Now, you were sure it was that exact thought that jinxed your day.

Not even an hour later, there was a pounding at your door. It was like someone wanted to beat the damn thing down. There was only one person who’d come knocking like that.

What made it worse was that you had just dipped into the tub. You had even brought a bagel along with you. Plain and untoasted because you were too lazy to wait on it, but it was breakfast nonetheless.

You slid around on the porcelain. When you were out of the bath, fumbling with your robe, you nearly slipped on the tile, feet wet and pattering as you scampered to the door. The pounding continued. You swore your head was close to imploding. Or exploding—whichever was worse.

You swung the door open and found Pieck’s fist in the air, ready to strike again. She did not look happy.

If you were to be brutally honest, Pieck had a horrendous case of resting bitch face. It was okay for you to say that because it was something she’d say about herself. You only mentioned it now because the RBF was much more intense than usual.

She let herself inside. “Impromptu meeting. I need you ready in fifteen.”

“Can’t this wait?” You closed the door behind her. “I’m, like, violently hungover right now.”

“I thought you might be.”

You didn’t care for her tone. You hugged your robe to your chest as you asked, “What’s this about?”

She waved you off. “Just go get ready. You only have fourteen minutes now.”

You were too groggy to argue. With your head hung like a sad puppy, you sauntered off to drain the hot, sudsy bath calling your name. You threw on a comfortable outfit—a matching set of shorts and a sweatshirt you’d wear to grab a coffee—and tried to make yourself slightly presentable. Pieck shouted for you to hurry while you were brushing your teeth. You yelled back at her as you rinsed and spat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The car ride was awkward. Pieck sat in the back with you like always, but she was across from you rather than at your side. You couldn’t tear your eyes from her tapping foot as she asked you, “You seriously have no idea what this is about?”

“No, but you’re freaking me out,” you admitted.

If she was going to keep up the cryptic schtick, then you’d have to take matters into your own hand. You reached for your phone only to realize you didn’t have pockets, let alone a single clue as to where your phone was. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure how you made it home last night.

Pieck asked, “You remember going to the after-party, right?”

“Obviously.” You extended an open hand to her. “Give me your phone.”

She swatted you away. “Did you meet anyone?”

She clearly wasn’t going to lay off the subject, nor was she about to let you use her phone. What was once nausea had turned into a gnawing in your stomach. You wondered what you’d find if she gave it to you.

Pieck repeated the question as if you didn’t hear her the first time. You chose to humor her, staring up at the roof as if the answer lived there. But outside of the first few rounds of drinks, everything else was a blur to you, like someone had smudged a grubby finger across the memory.

“I don’t know.” You were muttering now. “Probably? It was a party.”

The longer you thought about last night, the sicker you felt. You could smell the vodka like someone had blown their boozy breath right in your face. That, and something reminiscent of vanilla were stuck in your nose. What a strange jump. Perhaps you enjoyed your fair share of vanilla vodka last night. That would explain the hangover, wouldn’t it?

Pieck pressed further. “Anyone from Devil’s Paradise?”

The car started to feel suffocating. Pieck’s interrogation only made it worse, like a smothering hand around your throat. You hadn’t thrown up yet, as far as you knew, and you weren’t about to now.

You rested your forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Devil’s Paradise? I don’t even know what that is. It sounds like a bad b-horror movie or something.”

When you glanced over to her, she was staring at you as though you were some lost cause. She topped it off with her signature eye twitch. That always happened whenever she held back from tearing into you.

She eventually sighed. “I’ll just wait and have them tell you.”

Them.

You didn’t pay attention during the drive; you were occupied with trying to swallow down the few bites of bagel you managed. You didn’t notice when the car took a left instead of its usual right or which highway the driver merged onto. You thought it was a mistake when you stepped out of the car. This wasn’t your record label’s building.

Pieck slammed the car door behind her, dashing right on by to the front doors.

Nope, there was no mistake. You had the right place.

You nearly had to jog to catch the elevator before it left without you. Pieck’s foot started tapping in there, too. You counted every anxious beat as you rode to the twelfth floor. With the ding of the elevator, you stepped into the silent hallway.

With just as much intention as before, Pieck marched down the halls and led you to a large room. It was filled with more people than you had anticipated, crowded around a conference table. The gnawing in your stomach only worsened.

You felt Pieck’s hand on your back. You wanted to think it was her subtle way of checking in with you, but you knew she was asking you to take a seat.

Your eyes went to the faces you recognized first, two representatives from your record label that you shamefully couldn’t name right now. Everyone wore the same resting bitch face that Pieck had on; you must have missed the memo. You scanned over the rest of them, all unfamiliar, until your eyes fell on the tight-lipped expression of the only other person seated.

Then it came back to you. In bits and pieces, of course.

♡ ♡ ♡

Pieck warned you to be on your best behavior before you left for the night. She always did that, though, in hopes you’d listen. Most of the time, you did, but tonight was an exception.

You had just two intentions for the night, and you made her aware of them. The first, to enjoy all the alcohol you had to skip out on over the last few months. The second, to wake up in someone else’s bed. Preferably someone with long hair. You liked having something to tug on.

As expected, Pieck didn’t love the plan, but thankfully, the TMI bomb grossed her out enough to lay off.

Though she assured you otherwise, that was the real reason Pieck didn’t want you to go out. She had instructed you to treat every event—even the very exclusive and very overrated ones—as if it were any other public appearance. Your stylist only echoed the statement, which also explained why you were stuffed into a dress you had to tug down every other minute.

While it wasn’t a dress you would have chosen for yourself, objectively, it was a gorgeous dress. Flattering, too, shaping your ass into that picturesque, squeezable heart shape. It was slinky and silver and glimmered with every step, drawing attention to you like you were a dolled-up disco ball. You even said those very words to your stylist. She didn’t find it as funny as you did.

In fact, the dress was so gorgeous, especially under the fluorescent bathroom lights, that it caught the attention of Mikasa—

Shit. You couldn’t remember her last name.

Anyway, Mikasa fawned over your dress as you washed your hands, introducing herself as you made your way back to the bar. You asked tons of questions you wouldn’t have if you were sober—every one pertaining to her being a bassist, which you found incredibly fascinating, drunk or not. You shared a drink together, then a shot, and talked all about it.

No, talked wasn’t the best word for it. It was more like you listened to her, googly-eyed, entirely swept up in how she carried herself. She was graceful despite the liquor and already less reserved than the version of her you met in the bathroom. You wondered if she, like you, needed an excuse to let loose for once.

You were sure Pieck would have also advised against the margarita Mikasa ordered for you, but how could you say no? The two of you had called each other bestie at least five times in the last thirty minutes. And while you planned on sticking to vodka tonight, you needed the liquid courage to complete your mission of ending the night underneath (or on top of) someone.

Mikasa clinked her glass to yours for the umpteenth time that night—a toast to nothing in particular. Her tongue poked past her plum-painted lips, blindly searching for her straw. She snagged a sip as she told you that she and ‘the guys’ had a bungalow outside, over by the pool—said you should totally come and crash.

Once again, how were you supposed to say no?

She led you there, your hand in hers, like a couple of schoolgirls out at recess. She smelt nice—jasmine and something warm, maybe vanilla. You found it intoxicating as you kept close behind.

The event was held at a rooftop lounge. It was a scene hidden behind stained glass, obscured by a mix of colors and lights. The pale glow of the moon against the starless city sky. The crystal blue of the pool—so clear that you knew it only served as decoration. Numbingly-pink neon lights reflected from your dress and sparkled onto Mikasa.

The bungalows were on the far side of the pool. They were reserved for those that needed to kick their feet up after performing earlier in the day, much like ‘the guys’ seemed to be doing. In the center was a firepit, marbled and sleek, lined with empty glasses—more than plenty of them, too, between the three men on the L-shaped couch. They looked at you, varying levels of interest on their faces, like you were something to eat.

Tonight’s mission just got a whole lot easier.

“Who’s your friend?”

The one in the middle posed the question. Sat in the corner of the L, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his drink lightly swirling in his hand. His ash-brown hair was styled into a mullet—if styled was still applicable since it was now falling into his inquiring eyes. He kept them on you even though he was talking to Mikasa.

“Ha-ha, Jean. Don’t be rude,” she answered before you could. She introduced you the same way everyone did, as if to say, ‘You don’t know who this is? Have you been living under a rock?’ She looped an arm around yours, still as best of besties as ever. “She’s our guest.”

“I thought we told you to stop taking strays,” the one to Jean’s left said. His smile captured his entire face when he laughed, louder than you expected. But then again, based on the number of glasses surrounding the trio, you assumed anything would make him double over.

“You guys are such dicks,” Mikasa sneered.

Her hold on your arm tightened to a lock. She tugged you to the couch, sitting you between her and the last of ‘the guys.’ The one who hadn’t spoken up yet.

Jean grinned. “I’m not being a dick. I’m just wondering why she’d want to hang out with you.”

Mikasa’s face soured. Before she could bark back, Mr. Quiet finally spoke up, his voice deep and uninterested. “Leave her alone.”

“C’mon, man. We’re just messing around. Besides, it was Shit on Connie Day all fucking day. She deserves it,” the guy who referred to you as Mikasa’s stray said. Based on his tone, it was safe to assume he was Connie.

“It’s Shit on Connie Day every day,” Jean snickered.

“That’s what I’m trying to say! Now let me shit on Mikasa!” Connie’s eyes went wide right after he said it. Jean threw his head back in wild, drunken laughter. Connie could hardly contain his own, even as he slapped Jean’s arm and said, “No! Not like—you know what I meant!”

Your attention was stolen once Mr. Quiet leaned in close. He placed his arm on the back of the couch, behind you, like he wanted to wrap it around your shoulder. Quiet, but he certainly wasn’t shy, was he?

“Don’t listen to them. They’re fucking idiots around hot girls.” His voice was now deep and interested.

It was forward, but you appreciated it. You had drunk just enough for some shameless flirting. You ran through the basics—smiling at him, coyly biting at your bottom lip to draw his eye. It worked, as expected, and he was bold enough to let his gaze linger there, on your mouth.

You inched closer to him, your drink hanging heavy in your fingertips. “Oh, so you think I'm hot?”

He didn’t break eye contact. The flame’s light speckled in the green of his eyes. There was a playfulness in them, past the sulky and lascivious thing he had going on. “Like you don’t know it.”

You gifted him a giggle, soft but still enough to crack him. You could tell he had a flashy smile just by the hint she showed you, playing at the corner of his lips. It sent a jolt through you, that smile, like a zap right to your chest.

“Eren,” he introduced. “Eren Jaeger.” He said it like it was supposed to mean something to you. It didn’t, and your expression remained just as placid as before. He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

When you gave him your name, he only replied, “I know.”

Mikasa was too drunk to pick up on this—whatever it was that was happening between you and Eren. The tension between you was thick enough for Jean and Connie to ‘grab a drink,’ but Mikasa didn’t get the hint. Even after Eren slipped his arm around you, for real this time, his fingers grazing over your shoulder before giving you a light squeeze.

You were practically beaming at Eren because you were drunk and found him gorgeous, and not in the way that you needed alcohol to find him gorgeous. His precise features matched the night so well that you wondered if he’d look out of place during the day. The bridge of his nose and the crests of his cheeks were dusted pink, most likely from the alcohol and a day spent on a sun-hot stage.

He had nice hair, too, just like you wanted. Dark and long enough to brush over his sculpted shoulders. It went without saying he was confident, but he wore it well. Like the type of guy who got laid a lot but actually might know what he was doing because he got laid a lot. Lucky you.

Mikasa was oblivious to this, blabbering on and on. It was probably for the best, or else you would have found it a tad embarrassing—how unabashedly you were making eyes at Eren, just how closely he sat beside you.

You missed her reason behind it, but suddenly, she jumped to her feet and skipped off. She must have seen someone she knew, flinging her arms around them for a hug. She seemed to make friends easily. She was the reason you were here, after all, drunk and carelessly draping your legs over her bandmate’s lap. You liked that he wasn’t afraid to touch you while you talked.

Both of Eren’s hands were on you now, one still resting on your shoulder, the other smoothing over your calf. His fingers were rough, but his touch was gentle enough that you wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the kindling trail he left behind, somehow burning hotter than the fire. Your legs, properly lotioned hours earlier, felt balmy even in the crisp night air.

It wasn’t hard for Eren to admit he found you unbearingly sexy. It was undeniable at this point, what with the whole recently-bedded, yesterday’s makeup sort of thing you had going on after a long night. Your eyeliner, dark as soot, had smudged at the corner of your eyes. Your lipstick had long worn off—something he didn’t have to worry about when he’d inevitably kiss you later.

Eren knew that you knew what you were doing, drawing him in. You were an expert at batting those lovely lashes of yours, making sure to do it as you swiped your tongue past your lips, taking kittenish licks at the salted rim of your margarita.

“So, that band of yours,” you started. You walked your fingers up the length of his arm, mindfully stepping along each tattoo. You studied his forearm, toned and ungiving under your nails, before asking, “Do you play guitar?”

“I sing.”

You were still just as excited by his answer, chirping back. “Oh, me too!”

“I know,” he said again. His hand roamed to your knee. “But I can play the guitar, too.”

You smirked; you thought he had the arms of a guitarist. The detail piqued your interest for lots of reasons.

You admired every groove of his hand as he continued up your leg, palming over your thigh. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, heightened at his touch. Or he was simply staring at your tits. Not that you minded, of course. You weren’t shy about pushing them together, just a little.

Eren’s eyes, though lidded, had an intensity behind them. It burned at you, and you were getting tired of just looking. You wanted to touch.

You had him at this moment, you were well aware of it, which was why you were bold enough to purr, “You must be good with your hands then.”

It wasn’t subtle, but he didn’t seem to mind. Not that you thought he would, considering he started this. The hem of your dress was already dangerously high on your thigh as he toyed with it.

“How about I let you be the judge of that?” His voice was suggestive, matching the smile curving his lips, one you wanted to taste.

And he let you.

With nothing greater than the tilt of your head, your mouth was on Eren’s. And he kissed you back more than willingly. He moved thoughtfully, his lips soft against yours while maintaining a certain strength. Eagerness. Both in how he kissed you and how his hold around your thigh tightened before dragging up your hip.

It was an intoxicating feeling—being wanted. Desired in every sense of the word. The arm he had around your shoulder pulled you in closer. The taste of him and some distinct flavor of alcohol—probably a concoction of many—swirled on your tongue. You kissed him like you could get drunker off him.

There was a fleeting second, no longer than a few blinks of the eye, in which you had forgotten where you were. And in that delicious moment, you cherished how his hand continued higher until it was at your cheek, his thumb smushing up against it. It pulled a small breath from you, something you wouldn’t dare call a moan. Whatever it was, it was swallowed by Eren as though it belonged to him.

You only broke the kiss once you felt his tongue. It wasn’t that you wanted to stop—you would have straddled him right there, even if it meant you would have split the seam of your dress. You wanted to keep kissing him. It was just that you couldn’t. Not here.

Eren’s thumb remained on your cheek, brushing languidly. You were sure he could feel the heat of your skin, growing even warmer under the greedy look in his eyes.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

You knocked back the rest of your drink.

You lifted your legs from his lap like you were granting him permission to stand. He did and offered you his hand, large enough to close enclose yours and strong enough to bring you to your feet. He did it all with this everpresent calmness, as if to confirm your suspicion and say, ‘Yes, I can and will make you come tonight.’

You walked together as though you were each other’s prizes for the night. A goody-bag on your way out, if you will.

Eren kissed you again while waiting for the elevator. He spun you around until your back was pressed to the wall with your face between his hands, fingers curving behind your ears. You felt dizzy from your last drink and him. He was a deep kisser. Commanding, too. It fit him well.

You didn’t notice when the elevator opened its door, nor did you hear it when it closed again. You were more concerned with how good his hands felt on your skin, how good his tongue felt in your mouth, finally. You were lost in the groan—that beautiful and barely audible groan—he let escape after you yanked him in by the shirt.

It was everything a drunken kiss (and what was about to become a drunken hookup) should be. It was sloppy and desperate and not the sort of kiss your dress was meant for. You didn’t think it was possible, but the fabric was somehow even tighter with Eren’s grabbing and groping, riding up your thigh until it couldn’t anymore, even with his stubborn hand reaching for your ass.

The only pause was when he tapped the button to call the elevator again. Before its door even closed behind you, you had him backed into the far corner, your lips on his like they had never left. You started at the corner of his mouth before kissing down his neck.

Eren’s breath bordered a chuckle. He spoke so quietly that when he said, “And here I thought you’d be boring,” it was as though he was talking to himself.

You stopped to look up at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he hummed. The elevator opened. “Let’s go.”

You dodged him when he went to take your hand again. Still, you followed him out because, well, you didn’t really have another choice. You had to leave the elevator somehow. You tried your best not to sound pointed when you said, “No, I want to hear why you thought I’d be boring.”

You were attracted to him, that was beyond question, but it was getting difficult to look past his sanctimonious attitude. It was the classic scenario of choosing between the devil and the angel sitting on each of your shoulders. One told you to ignore the comment for the sake of the mission, while the other waved a red flag above its little head. You didn’t know which was which. Truthfully, they could both become devils depending on what Eren said next.

He neared you in a stride, scooping your chin between his fingers. His thumb was cold this time as he caressed your cheek. There was a likeness between that and the way he said the disparaging words, “You know, considering your music.” He kept his voice sweet, like he could keep you there and pliant for him while he jabbed at you. “That’s all.”

You jerked your head back to shake off his hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on.” He spoke as if it was all self-explanatory. Like he was annoyed with you for not getting it.

“No, please. Continue.”

“I mean, nothing about your music is very prolific. It’s about as generic as it gets.”

It was what you expected to hear but still, there was a pathetically-painful thud of embarrassment pitting deep in your stomach.

You hissed, “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“More like the asshole you were about to fuck.”

He looked at you like you had walked right into that, smug and satisfactory. You glowered up at him, readjusting your dress as you started to shove past him.

“Yeah, well, it was great to meet you Eren whatever your last name is, from whatever shitty band you’re in.”

“Good one.”

You left with the tip of your chin and huff. It wasn’t as elegant as you intended; your strappy heels were too thin to support you after your last drink. But that was that, and fuck that guy.

♡ ♡ ♡

He still had that stupid smirk on his face—Eren What’s-His-Face.

You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, or at least you hoped you wouldn’t. But there he was, sitting just across from you.

What an asshole.

Someone spoke your thoughts into existence, snapping, “Wipe that grin off your face, punk.”

The owner of the contemptuous voice was the man standing to Eren’s right. He was short, not much taller than Eren who was slumped in his seat. He had sharp-looking features that matched his dagger of a voice. Still, his eyes were bored, flitting between you and Eren like you were a couple of kids in detention.

Pieck leaned into you and whispered, “That’s Levi Ackerman. Manager of Devil’s Paradise.”

Ackerman. That was Mikasa’s last name. Were they related? They shared some resemblances, what with their fair skin and midnight-black hair.

You didn’t outwardly acknowledge Pieck because Levi was still glaring at you. He said, “I have a feeling I don’t need to remind you what this is about.”

As always, Pieck answered for you. “She doesn’t remember—and I haven’t told her yet.”

You actually remembered now, but it wasn’t the time to correct her.

Levi’s face didn’t light up, even as he scoffed to Eren, “Damn, Jaeger. You’re that forgettable of a kisser, huh?”

Eren rolled his eyes but stayed silent. You preferred him like that.

Levi grabbed his phone, bitterly swiping at the screen. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

The room’s attention was brought to the television on the wall. On it, Levi had screencast an article from some high-profile gossip blog. Your heart sank before you even read the headline. Not that you needed it, anyway. They were considerate enough to include a photo that told you everything you needed to know.

You wanted to slam your head against the table.

Listen, you knew you were drunk, but were you really that drunk? Drunk enough to literally suck the face—oh my God, do you really kiss like that?—of a stranger?

Then again, you did vow to get laid last night. It wasn’t your fault you so happened to choose the wrong guy. You should have one with the one with the mullet.

The blogger at least had the courtesy to censor your ass, though there wasn’t any mistaking that Eren was pawing at it.

You were deep breathing through it, reminding yourself to be grateful that the quality was grainy and the lighting was poor. Then Levi made the picture big enough to fill the screen.

“Don’t zoom in on it!” You held your hand up like a shield. “God, my tongue is halfway down his throat.”

Eren started to laugh, but Levi cut it short with a stiff elbow to his head. You wished you thought to do that last night.

Then, in a flurry, everyone started talking. Not just talking, but talking at you. After years of it, you learned to drone it out.

Through tense flitters of eye contact with Eren, his expression as steadfast as ever, you studied him. It was a shame, really. He could have been attractive if he wasn’t like that. You struggled to remember what you saw in him last night. Whatever was there was ruined the moment he started running his mouth instead of using it to kiss you.

You were right about one thing: he did look out of place during the day. You could still make out the same features behind his sullen hangover eyes and day-old scruff—sharp jawline, thick brows looking rather broody over his green—

Was that a hickey?

Surely, that wasn’t from you. There was no way.

Your face heated up. You told yourself it was anger.

But you were angry. Hot with it. Sticky under your sweatshirt and when you shuffled, the backs of your thighs suctioned to your chair. As much as you wanted to leave, the meeting only dragged on. From what you gathered, these were the parts that actually mattered:

This was supposed to be your funeral if not for the fact that the world woke up to your and Eren’s ship name trending on Twitter. Apparently, the two of you were a hit. Something about everyone’s favorite sweetheart pop sensation getting caught up with the industry bad boy really did it for them.

Your team pitched it to you as if it were another one of their marketing tactics. Like a milkshake and fries, you and Eren didn’t belong together but somehow, it just worked.��

Yeah, that was exactly how they put it. You thought you might get sick in your mouth, but that could have been the vodka at it again. It was vile, watching them flaunt their brilliancy around as though this was just another step in their grand plan for you.

Your team wasn’t tactful about it when they informed you this situation didn’t align with your image. They gave you the same speech they always did—you know, think of the kids that look up to you. That type of deal. You only interrupted when you heard them use the words ‘one-night stand.’

“We didn’t hook up,” you asserted.

“Doesn’t matter,” one of your representatives said. He had this ridiculous mustache that you couldn’t help but gawk at. It had to be new. “The only thing that matters is what the fans think, and that—” He paused only to zoom in on that awful photo again. “That doesn’t scream just friends to me.”

“We’re not friends either,” you grumbled. He shot you a look. You were speaking out of turn, and Pieck reminded you of it with a sharp heel to your toes.

Luckily for you—as Mustache phrased it—they had a solution to restore the balance in the universe.

“We’ve decided it’s best for all parties involved that you and Eren go on as if you had been in a relationship,” he said, hands clasped together. “How’s that sound?”

That last bit was only cursory. He was telling you exactly how it was going to be. Your only job was to nod and smile.

To your surprise, Pieck was the one that spoke out of turn this time. “You didn’t say anything about that on the phone!”

“It wasn’t your decision to make. We already spoke with Dad,” he knowingly said. He wasn’t talking to Pieck this time but you. Still, you each visibility tensed.

Another member of Eren’s team, one who hadn’t made a peep yet, started to break it down for you. She didn’t fit in with the rest of them, she was much softer. Her red hair was bobbed and bounced as she talked with her hands. It was clear she was trying to sell you on the idea, but she stuttered the whole way through.

Apparently, the band’s songs, even some of the older ones, had a steep increase in streams just overnight. Fans were rabidly trying to theorize which songs were written about you (ha!) because, as you just learned, Eren wrote all their songs.

She then told you that your relationship—air quotes—with Eren only needed to last until the hype died down. Maybe after a tour or two. Like that made it any better.

Her scrambling cut out when Mustache stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. He turned to you and said, “Don’t take it personally. We really don’t care what you do in your free time. Just try not to make it our business again.”

“My image—” Cue the air quotes again. “Doesn’t have to be your business in the first place. You don’t seem to care that much about it when you put me in dresses like that.” You pointed to the picture, then to Eren next. “And it’s not like dating him makes me look like an angel.”

“You’re the only person that got yourself into this. Don’t be mad when you leave us with no choice but to clean it up.”

Pieck pinched your thigh to stay quiet. You watched while your team left the room in their weird, little flock.

The door shut behind them. All that was left was silence. It loomed over the room. You felt Levi’s glare again. When you looked at him, you couldn’t read his expression. You shook it off by the time they started to leave.

You asked Pieck to meet you out by the car while you searched for the bathroom. You needed a moment to collect yourself.

The sweat on the back of your neck went cold as you stepped into the restroom. You fanned the bottom of your sweatshirt as you made your way to the sink and let the icy water run over your hands. You didn’t dry them but patted the backs against your cheeks. It quelled some of the fluster, but you still felt queasy with a disgusting mix of a bad hangover and the claustrophobia that always came with these meetings. You gave yourself a pep talk in the mirror before the panic could set in.

This is what you wanted to do with your life, isn’t it? Then this is the price you have to pay. It’s all worth it.

You repeated the last line a few more times before emerging from the sanctity that was the women’s bathroom.

Without Pieck, it took a bit longer for you to find the elevator. After a few loops around the floor, you finally found it, along with another waiting on its arrival.

Eren.

Call it what you wanted—ironic, poetic, a cruel twist of fate, or perhaps plain old misfortune—but here you were again, side-by-side, waiting on yet another elevator.

You kept your eyes forward, watching the number above the elevator tick higher as it approached the twelfth floor. From the corner of your eye, you saw Eren turn to you.

“Hey—”

“Don’t talk to me,” you snapped. You wanted him to stay quiet like he had during the meeting.

Eren snorted. “Right, and I’m the asshole.”

“Yeah, you are.” You breezed by him when the elevator doors opened. He joined you, hitting the button for the ground floor, then the one that made the doors close faster.

You caught him glancing at you again. You wished he wouldn’t. He took it as another invitation to try and talk again.

“Look, I’m sorry if I called you boring or whatever. But for the record, you’re the one that called my band shitty.”

You didn’t remember that last part, but it didn’t stop you from saying, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“If I did, then I didn’t mean it.” You folded your arms over your chest. “I can’t even name one of your songs.”

“Oh, well, that’s perfect then. Apology accepted,” Eren sneered. He rolled his eyes again like he did with Levi. It was probably something you’d have to learn to endure for now.

“That wasn’t an apology.” When the elevator door opened, you walked out first, waiting for him, but only because you had more to say. “Shouldn’t you be more upset about this? Doesn’t having me around cramp your style?”

His nose scrunched. “Who says that?”

You walked through the lobby together but far enough apart that it looked awkward. Not to mention, it probably wasn’t smart to talk this loudly about your fake relationship. Even more when Eren said, “And I don’t really care. You got me laid last night, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh?”

Then you remembered the hickey.

Eren stopped once you were on the sidewalk out front. You each had your respective cars waiting on you, and they would have to wait until this conversation was over. Without the table between you, the way he stared down at you made your pulse quicken.

“Whoever took that picture must have sent it to a lot of people. Like, a lot. Within the hour, my ex hit me up.” He shrugged to spare you the gritty details. “You know how it goes. Figured this would make her jealous.”

He said it far too casually for your liking. You were seeing red. “You can’t fake cheat on me!”

He almost did a double take, looking at you as if you had sprouted a third eye or something just as insane. “I didn’t fake cheat on you. We weren’t even in a fake relationship yet!”

You took a daring pace toward him. He didn’t appear threatened by it, not that you didn’t expect him to. “Those pricks upstairs might want to protect my reputation for their own fucked up reasons, but I will not let you ruin me. I would never stay with a cheater, fake or not.”

Pieck called you to the car but you ignored it. Your thoughts were racing, echoing in your head and bouncing off your skull so fast that you couldn’t keep up. It only pissed you off more when Eren offered you nothing more than a slightly raised brow.

“I promise you, if you get caught with her, this will not end well for you,” you threatened.

He laughed, like an asshole. “Yeah, I’m real scared.”

It ended the same way as last night—with you huffing, marching off, and feeling less than victorious. Pieck was still holding the car door open for you as she mouthed, ‘Yikes.’

She stopped you short of crawling inside, whispering, “Listen, if I knew it was going to be like that, I wouldn’t have agreed to this meeting. You know that, right?”

You gave her a look, long and hard, then sidestepped her to get inside the car. She followed in after you, sitting beside you this time.

She buckled herself in and repeated, “Right?”

Pieck wasn’t only your manager; she had also been your best friend for as long as you could remember. Back when you’d sit on the floor, backs pressed up against her family’s tweedy couch, with cotton balls shoved between your toes as you painted your nails. You’d throw snacks into each other’s mouths and see who could catch the most in a row. You always won.

She was only a year older than you, but there were times when it felt more like a decade. She was always the more mature half of the friendship. Maybe that was why she wasn’t great at catching popcorn in her mouth. You knew she’d call herself sisterly, but you thought of her as more of the motherly type. Overbearingly so, at times.

Your dad only permitted her to work as your manager because she was like family to you. It was the same reason that it only took a few days of begging until he agreed to the arrangement a few years ago. If you knew it would have wound up like this, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so persistent.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t like having her around. It was just that you thought she’d let you get away with more, considering you were best friends. That turned out to be only wishful thinking.

You eventually conceded with a hollow sigh. “I know.”

The car hit a pothole. You felt sick again, but you couldn’t blame the hangover this time.

“I assumed you at least liked the guy. You know, based on the photo,” she said.

You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you only grunted a response.

She patted your head and let you rest it on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk to your dad, okay?”

♡ taglist: @daisynik7 @wtfiswrongwithme1 @bejewelledd @lifesuckssomuchtbh @str4wberrylover @pompompurjin @vanessani @bingbongbingbongsblog @intimacywithceline @6sakusa @softjaegerhours @akvrae @josukesss @my-wide-open-eyes @sundazedm1 @bomjug @rinshoe @vlsquuu please let me know if i missed you or you'd like to be added/removed!

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #new series new series! let me know what you think <3

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treason-and-plot · 5 months

Text

Connor has asked Saffron to meet her for lunch in the school dining room. What do you want to eat? he texts her. My treat. She texts back that she would like a bagel. She feels fleetingly bad for the sandwich that Joël made her for lunch, especially as he hates waste, but she reasons that he would forgive her if he knew the circumstances. Connor and the bagel are waiting for her when she walks into the room at five past twelve. The fluttery feeling in her throat is there again as soon as she sets eyes on him, as if her heart is trying to escape from her chest. She floats into the seat opposite him and he smiles at her from beneath his floppy hair.

“How was your morning?” he says.

“Okay,” she says, biting into her bagel. “I got one hundred percent for my Legal studies test.”

“Of course you did,” he says, his smile now teasing.

“How was your morning?” she asks, internally congratulating herself that she thought to ask him in return. “You had Art first period, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. He pauses. “With Laura.”

Saffron says nothing. Her bagel is turning ashy in her mouth. She puts the remaining half back down on her plate.

“She asked me a lot of questions. Apparently it caused a bit of a stir when we walked in holding hands this morning,” Connor says. “But she’s genuinely happy for us. She even suggested we go on a double date with she and Wes. Maybe to the movies?"

“Genuinely happy,” snorts Saffron. “She hates me. How can she be genuinely happy you’re seeing someone she hates?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” says Connor. “At least she’s making an effort, anyway.”

Saffron knows what he’s inferring: She, Saffron, isn’t making an effort. She’s about to make some acidic rebuttal when she sees Liam come into view behind Connor’s right shoulder. He stops in his tracks when he sees her and the expression on his face is one of mute anguish. Then he turns and marches from the room. Obviously he's butthurt I've blocked him and that I'm sitting here with Connor, Safffron tells herself. He'll get over it. But her hand is shaking slightly when she picks up her bagel again.

"Are you okay?" says Connor.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says. "Just a bit stressed about...another test I've got coming up."

"That's not like you. You always ace everything."

Saffron blinks and shrugs, still preoccupied with the intensity of Liam's stare.

"So what do you think about going to the movies with Wes and Laura?" says Connor.

"I'll think about it," she says. "Maybe."

"Thank you," Connor says. "I expected you to just flat-out refuse, to be honest."

"Can we go and make out in the back of your car after this?" she says suddenly.

"Hell yeah," says Connor. "But shouldn't you be studying for your test?"

"No," says Saffron. "I need something to take my mind off it more than anything else."

"Well, okay," says Connor. "I'm happy to be your stress relief."

"Thank you," says Saffron.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," she says sweetly.

#Saffron #Connor #back to Bridgeport #5 years later #Liam

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cressthebest · 10 days

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 30

chapter 49:

1. jegulus jumpscare (it’s a dream i wasn’t expecting)

2. shit. the dream is about their wedding plans. i- i can’t do this shit while reg is in the arena

3. shit it’s raining and i know reg can’t handle it because of the last crimson river/arena

4. god, sirius wakes up to the rain and his first thought it to go save regulus

5. “"Lily, have you been using sex for favors?"

"No." Lily pauses, then snorts. "Well, alright, so this is how it works, yeah? I'm already having sex, and then I'm like, say, look at you all laid out and desperate to give me what I want; don't you want to do this very small, very simple thing for me? And then they mostly always say yes, and they get what they want, all while I'm having a grand time and also getting what I want. See? Win-win.””

😭😭😭 i love her your honor

6. “”I cannot believe that this revolution is partially running on your competency in sex."

"Oh, if only it could fully run on that. Everything would go so smoothly. Shit, we'd win the war in, like, a week.""

😭😭😭💍♥️ marry me please

7. “”I keep telling [Effie] I know exactly how to make her feel better, but she insists she's a married woman, and also far too old for me. Disappointing, really.”” 😭😭😭

8. james confronting lucius has me scared for remus. like, i know they can’t trace it back to remus, but i’m so scared

9. james is pissed at the world and it’s honestly scary

10. i know james is trying to use donations, but i’m also aware that riddle wants to make sure no donations make it to reg, sirius, or marlene

11. “"Aw, your boyfriend sent you a present," Rabastan teases, his tone lighthearted and good-natured.

"Fiancé," Regulus corrects sharply”

GAGGED. he took james’ words and fucking ran with it like nobody’s business

12. not narcissa welcoming james to the family 😭😭😭😭

13. james sent him a bagel and all the death eaters are making fun of him for being gay over it 😭😭

14. all james sent on the card was “???” 😭😭 pls that’s so funny

15. poor eli

16. the sad bonding over marlene and sirius having recovered from drinking problems

17. don’t tell me that the fucking crimson river hands are coming out the hedges. i- god i hope reg gets to personally witness riddle’s downfall

18. AND THE FUCKING GREEN MIST??? FUCK THIS

19. “You never truly do feel as alive as when death is breathing down your neck.”

oh he’s insane as hell. a black for sure

20. shit. sirius’ mind just went blank in the maze

21. the hallow is cruel beyond belief for this

22. “He has had dreams of Regulus, ah, using his dagger during…intimate moments, but is that something he'd actually do? Well… Okay, bad example.” 😭😭😭😭

23. james was so close to an epiphany about mcgonnagal making everyone hate the games. he was so close

24. “Thorfinn said he'd have to be killed to be stopped from going after Sirius, even though Regulus explicitly told him what he'd do about that, and so Regulus killed him. Newton's third law: for every action in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

bitch do not pull physics into this 😭😭

also that means that sir isaac newton existed in this universe, which if we see this as a future for our universe, it means that homophobia was prevalent at one point and the world straight up just eradicated it. 🤷🏽‍♀️ pro for this universe ig

25. “When he lifts his head, the first thing Regulus sees is his brother.

The second thing he sees is Sirius' fist, just the flash of it, just seconds before it collides with the side of his face.”

he had it coming fr

#marauders #regulus black #sirius black #crimson rivers #jegulus #james potter #lily evans #dorcas mention

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wehaveimagineshere · 2 months

Note

Ren, I really hope you don't mind me sending in another request so soon but I've read Girl Dad like 7 times and I'm still craving. I want more. I want Carlos with his newborn. I want him taking care of his girls and making breakfast in bed and bringing his wife the baby for group cuddles and shit. I crave the domestic fluff. I will take anything you throw at me it's all too good. You're too good. I'm feverish for your writing rn. I have such a soft spot for badass couples being soft with their little baby so youve really given me a blessing. >◇< ilysm please keep well and stay happy <33333

I don't mind more requests at all! <3 I'm so happy you liked Girl Dad! Omgggg this is so cuuttteee I'm so happy I get to write something so sugary sweet!!!

Thank you so much for being so sweet, every time I read this I get all smiley! <3

~*~*~

You wake up to the smell of bacon.

Yawning wide, you turn your head to Carlos' side of the bed, a little confused to find it empty. Running a hand across the sheets, you're even more surprised to find them cold.

Reaching out to your plugged in phone on the bedside table, you squint as it lights up. Okay, not too early. But, wait, your daughter usually starts crying before now.

Bolting up, your feet are almost on the carpet before your muddled brain slots the puzzle pieces together. Carlos' side of the bed is cold. Maybe he heard her before you did and calmed her so she didn't wake you up.

Why didn't he come back?

Rubbing a hand across your face, the decision to check or not is made for you. You hear Carlos saying something a moment before he opens the door, a plate of food in each hand.

"She's not going to believe how you helped with breakfast this morning."

And your daughter swaddled across his chest, who kicks her feet and giggles when she spots you.

"Hey, what are you doing awake?" Crossing the bedroom, he sets a plate full of bacon on the bedside table and uses his now free hand to swat at your thighs. "Get back in bed."

"What?" you ask, brain still muddled, tucking your feet back under the blankets.

"Our little girl here decided she wanted to make you breakfast in bed this morning." When you're leaning comfortably against the pillows, he sets the other plate onto your lap. Sunny side up eggs with toast greets your eyes, and your tummy grumbles a moment later.

Your little girl gurgles, arms doing a little wave.

Producing a fork, Carlos hands it to you before looking down to your girl. "Right. We have more dishes for you. Want pancakes next? Fruit? Bagel?"

At the mention of the bagel, your little one babbles.

"I agree, bagel sounds good." Making his way back to the kitchen, he throws over his shoulder, "I'll make sure it has cream cheese on it."

Blinking in surprise, you give yourself a moment to process before picking up a piece of bread and dipping it into the egg. You're only three bites in before Carlos returns with more plates, and it's not until the bed is almost full with all the dishes you own that Carlos leans against the wall opposite you, holding a strawberry shaped teether for your daughter to chew.

"What did I do?" you ask, setting aside an empty plate to pick up another. "To deserve all this, I mean?"

"Aside from popping this one out into the world?" He does a little shake, prompting your girl to kick her feet and giggle. "Maybe I just wanted to pamper my queen, ever think of that?"

You give him a curious look but keep eating until your stomach is full to bursting. When you go to get up to put the dishes up, Carlos swats your legs and hustles everything out, baby giving her commentary the entire time.

Still wondering if maybe there's a catch, you watch as Carlos unswaddles your girl and slides into his spot next to you, setting your daughter on her belly on his chest.

You slide up against his side, your hand resting against your girl's back. Her sleepy eyes drift to you, a small smile turning up her chubby cheeks.

"She's had a full morning helping me out in the kitchen." Carlos' voice rumbles through his chest, making her yawn and close her eyes. "She told me exactly how you like your pancakes."

"Did she now?"

"She did. Was very particular about it. If I made a mistake, I'd get an earful." Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he adds, "Just like someone else I know."

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"Yeah. I mean, genetics and all, right?"

"And what did she get from you, big guy?"

"My superior sense of humor."

Smiling wide, you slot your head between Carlos' shoulder and collarbone. From this angle, you can see your girl passed out, drool dribbling from her open mouth and onto your husband's shirt. Rubbing your thumb absentmindedly up and down her back, you ask Carlos, "So what's the plan now?"

"I dunno, I didn't think that far." A pause. "A nap?"

"A nap sounds good."

Squeezing you in a one armed hug, you hear Carlos hum in agreement. "Nap it is, then."

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira/reader #carlos oliveira x reader #resident evil

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collecting-stories · 3 months

Note

okay so i've never requested a platonic fic before, but if you're interested, i'd love to see a best friend!jake seresin x platonic!reader! i dunno anything fluff or just silliness with the guy :)

like when i think about being friends with him, i acknowledge 100% that he is a CertifiedPrettyBoy™ but he's just not my type 😭

but yeah, platonic!jake seresin x fem!reader please :)) i could see sarcasm thrown at him from reader and him spinning it into one of his flirting bits

I was super excited about this request because I'm ace and I love platonic/best friend fics so much.

"What do we need for fondue?" Jake asked, leaning against the basket of your shopping cart, flexing his arms when a woman walked passed, looking over at him and smiling. You rolled your eyes, you should have known that going shopping for game day would've been easier by yourself. Although you hated driving and Jake was always happy to drive. And brave the absolute headache that was Trader Joes on a Saturday.

"Broccoli, some kind of bread, apples, sausage..." You read over the list that you had unfolded on top of a bag of bagels. You looked up from the list to see him looking behind him, still following the same woman, "Seresin, I swear to god-"

"I'm paying attention darling," he joked, turning back and smiling at you.

"You are not paying attention," you replied, "but I will pretend that you are. What do you wanna get?"

"Hmm," he hummed meaningfully before standing up straight, "broccoli, apples, sausage."

"You just want me to have to go back over to the bread cause you know I hate that lady," you muttered.

"I think you come here too often if you have a literal vendetta against a woman stocking shelves," he replied, "but also, I saw the guy with the kids headed to the veggies and I don't want you to commit murder over a bag of tiny trees."

"A true american hero Hangman," you laughed, turning the cart in the opposite direction.

The first time you met Jake Seresin he'd been out with some friends at the bar you worked at and he'd laid on the charm, pleasantly surprised but unbothered that you weren't interested. From there, something of a strange friendship developed and eventually evolved into him moving in with you when he officially moved to the area and didn't wanna live on base. The whole thing worked out better than you ever imagined that it would, mostly because he was the first roommate you didn't actively hate. You even did things you weren't entirely excited to do, like host Super Bowl parties for his friends.

"Look at this!" Jake interrupted your stare down with the bread shelves, trying to decide between the ciabatta and the french loaves. When you turned he was holding a chocolate cake shaped like a heart, "for Valentines."

"I have a date," you reminded him.

"On Valentines?" He asked, looking down at the cake and then back at you.

"Yeah remember, I told you? I literally put it on the calendar."

"Then we can have it the day before." He insisted, putting it in the cart.

"On Galentine's day?"

"More like Pal-entines day."

"Ehh," you cringed and laughed when he rolled his eyes at you. "Did you get everything?"

"Yeah, and that girl's number too," he smiled, waving his phone at you.

"Naturally," you replied, "hey maybe you can share the cake with her."

Jake shook his head, "first date on Valentines? Yikes," he said and then, "you aren't going on a first date on Valentines are you?"

"No...it's like our third date." You replied, "I've literally detailed both previous dates."

"Yeah and you still haven't told me, your nearest and dearest friend, who it is you're going out with," Jake pointed out. He was right, obviously. You hadn't mentioned who you had been dating. You were usually too transparent with each other and you wanted to tell him it was just that...it was someone he knew and if things didn't go well or fizzled out or anything, you didn't want Jake to feel like he needed to get involved. You loved him and he was your best friend but sometimes he went into older brother mode and you didn't need him thinking he needed to fix something or move something along that didn't need to be fixed or moved along.

"I will...but not right now, when we're supposed to be grocery shopping," you replied.

Jake stuck his tongue out at you and grabbed the grocery list from the cart, scanning over the items you hadn't crossed out yet, "does this guy like football?"

"Why would that matter?" You asked, grabbing the ciabatta bread finally and putting it in your cart, "I don't like football."

"Don't like football?" He practically laughed out loud as he said it, "darling you were literally screaming at the TV during play-offs."

"Um," you dragged out the 'm' as you shot him a skeptical look, feigning disbelief at his claim, "I don't remember that."

"I definitely remember that. Coyote as my witness, I have never seen someone that excited about football outside my dad," he replied. "Hey, it's not Coyote is it?"

"What's not Coyote?"

"This guy you're dating."

"It is not Coyote," you replied, "I promise you will be the first to know if I feel like it's definitely going somewhere...and it won't be Coyote."

"Just checking."

You rolled your eyes, taking back the grocery list from him, "grocery shopping Hangman, grocery shopping."

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin drabble #top gun maverick drabble

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brienneoftarth1989 · 10 months

Text

Yes Captain the Final Chapter! NSFW

Captain Phasma x fem reader

Previous / Series

Summary: You and Phasma have officially been together a year. Everything was perfect and nothing was going to change that.

Warnings: dom/sub kink, cunnilingus, fingering, grinding, begging, teasing, daddy, fluff and comfort

Authors note: I just want to thank everyone who has enjoyed reading this series. I have loved writing every chapter. I have a lot more works to come including some more series. If you want more Phasma content fee free to send in requests!

Requests open

———————————

- One year later -

“Babe you’re finally home!” you screamed as Phasma walked through the door. “Oh my god I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you for three weeks” she said as she dropped her stuff on the floor and ran over to you to embrace you in a hug.

Phasma has been out on a mission for the last three and a bit weeks and neither of you thought you could handle it. For the last year the two of you have been inseparable and to go from seeing each other every day to not seeing one another for three weeks was going to be near impossible. But the two of you handled it.

“You made it back just in time for our one year anniversary as well” you smiled as you pulled back from the hug that was lasting a lifetime. “I know and speaking of that we are going to spend the whole day having a chill day but first I am going to make you breakfast. What do you fancy having?” Phasma asked you.

“Mmm can we have avocado on bagels?” you asked as if she was going to say no to you. “Of course baby. Anything for my girl” she smiled as she made her way to the kitchen to start prepping breakfast. You sat at the table and watched as Phasma put your breakfast together.

As you sat there the two of you talked about what you had both been up to. Phasma told you about everything that happened on her three week trip. There was a lot of action and she seemed to have a brilliant time. Your three weeks weren’t quite as exciting but you told her what you had been up to as well.

You had spent the last three weeks fixing a range of different aircrafts but you have also had a promotion in that time frame and Phasma was so happy and excited for you. It wasn’t long until Phasma had finished making breakfast and was dishing it up onto plates. “Here you go baby” she said as you placed the food in front of you.

She then sat down opposite you and started to tuck into her breakfast. “Mmm this is amazing if I don’t say so myself” she laughed as she finished her mouthful of food. “Of course you would praise yourself for your breakfast making skills” you laughed before having a mouthful of food. “...but I do have to say this is amazing” you laughed with a mouthful of food.

The two of you finished eating breakfast before you took the plates into the kitchen to wash up. It was only fair that you washed up considering Phasma was kind enough to make you both breakfast in the first place. Phasma couldn’t help but hold your waist and hug you from behind as you washed up. She slowly kissed your neck and you couldn’t help but melt into her touch.

“Come on baby, we have plenty of time for that later. I really want to have that chill day with you. What were you thinking of doing anyway?” you asked as you put the last of the washing up on the drainer. “Well I was thinking maybe we have a movie day considering the day we started dating you were having a movie day” she laughed ever so slightly.

It was so sweet that she remembered that day. “Yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. Let's start with a few movies and then we can watch our series together” you smiled. “Ok you sort the bedroom out and set the tv up while I go and sort out a range of snacks for us to have” she smiled before you ran into the bedroom while Phasma stayed in the kitchen.

Once you got into the bedroom you turned on the electric candles you had while closing the curtains. It didn’t make that much difference considering you were space but it just made things a bit more homey. You then got a load of your blankets and pillows and set them up the way you both liked it. The bed looked nice and cosy and you couldn’t wait to get in it.

You had a look at a range of films before putting them in a queue so they would play one after the other. You decided to go with The Maze Runner series, The Giver, The Divergent series and The Hunger Games series. If you had time then you would put on your series called From which the two of you said you would watch when Phasma returned.

While you were sorting out the movie options Phasma was in the kitchen dishing up a range of snacks for the two of you to munch on throughout the day. Phasma decided to go with a couple bowls of popcorn, a plate of nachos, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, and a selection of sweets. She also decided on a bottle of coke for the two of you to share.

She looked at the selection in front of her that she had spread across the countertop pleased with her selection choices. “Hey babe can you help me bring these snacks in” she shouted as she grabbed some bowls and started heading to the bedroom. “Coming” you responded as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Babe, how much food did you get ready?” you laughed looking at the large selection of food in front of you. “Hey don’t judge me. We have all day to eat this so we will get through this” she laughed as you walked past one another. “You do have a point” you laughed as you grabbed some bowls and followed Phasma to the bedroom.

You both finished bringing the food into the bedroom before you closed the bedroom door and turned the main light off. You snuggled up to Phasma as she pressed play on the first movie in the queue. When Phasma saw the movies in the queue she couldn’t help but smile. You did have a great choice in movies.

The two of you spent a majority of the day watching movies, eating snacks and just enjoying one another’s company. At some point you ended up falling asleep in Phasma’s arms. All Phasma could do was just admire you in her arms. She loved every minute of this and she didn’t want it to end.

Then a brilliant idea hit Phasma. She slowly wriggled herself from your side trying her best not to wake you. She then made her way down to the kitchen to start making your favourite dessert. She knew that the two of you had plenty of food to be snacking on so you wouldn't have a full course meal so decided to just go with dessert.

So she started making Kinder Beuno cookies. They were your guilty pleasure especially when they were freshly baked with a side of vanilla ice cream. Phasma tried her hardest to keep quiet while making the cookie trying not to wake you but it was the smell that caused you to stir.

You looked around to see the first Hunger Games films playing. You then looked to see that Phasma was no longer laying in bed with you and then the smell of cookies hit you. You smiled knowing that Phasma was making your favourite kind of dessert.

You slowly walked over to Phasma who had her back to you as she was finishing up making the cookies. You slowly wrapped your arms around Phasma. “Hey baby, what are you doing?” you smiled as you nuzzled your head on her shoulder. “Well I was making you some cookies and ice cream. I was thinking that we could have these with our movies as I know a full course meal is out of the question” she laughed ever so slightly.

“Are they almost done?” you asked desperately to find out what the answer will be. “Yep, just come out of the oven. They need to cool down a little bit before I serve them with ice cream. “Well I was thinking while they cool down me and you could have some fun” you smirked as you hands wrapped around to unbutton Phasma trousers.

“Mmm that sounds like a good idea baby” she smirked as she grabbed your hand and led you back to the bedroom. The two of you cleared the bed of all your snacks. The last thing the two of you needed was to be rolling in a variety of food. You knew however that it wouldn’t stop you from pleasuring one another.

Once the bed had been cleared of everything Phasma grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the bed. You gasped at the sudden strength that overtook Phasma. “I know you like it rough baby. I remember how I treated you the first time we slept together” she smirked as she leaned down hovering over you before giving you a deep and passionate kiss on the lips.

Phasma placed her knee between your leg allowing yourself to grind ever so slightly against her knee. You continued to kiss Phasma as you let your hips buck into her knee. The two of you eventually pulled away for air. “Mmm do you like that” Phasma moaned ever so slightly as she continued to press her knee into your core.

“Yes baby. Please I want you to fuck me like you did the first time” you moaned as you continued to grind against. “Are you sure baby?” Phasma asked, a bit confused. “Yes daddy! Please fuck me! I need you!” you moaned. It was you calling her daddy that set her over the edge.

Phasma started stripping you of your clothing chucking item after item on the floor. It wasn’t long before you were completely naked and Phasma was fully clothed. “Hey this isn’t fair!” you whined. “Don’t worry daddy is going to lose her clothes” she smirked as she stood up and removed all her clothing.

All you could do was sit back and enjoy the site in front of you. Once Phasma’s clothes had joined yours on the floor Phasma climbed back on the bed and on top of you. She placed a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling back slightly. “You ready to be dominated baby?” she smirked down at you waiting for you permission,

“Yes baby! Now please I need you!” you moaned as you grabbed Phasma pulling her closer to your body. Phasma kissed your lips before starting to suck on your neck leaving a number of red marks behind. She always knew how to turn you on. “You like that don’t you baby” she moaned in between kisses. “Yes daddy! I need your touch baby” you moaned out.

“Oh don’t worry baby! I will make sure you feel my touch everywhere” she moaned before starting to trail her kisses down your body. She massaged your breasts as she continued to leave a number of hickies on each breast.

You couldn’t help but to arch your back when you felt her latch onto your nipples. “Mmmm fuck daddy” you moaned loudly. All Phasma could do was smirk as she watched you squirm under her touch. When she believed that your breasts had had enough attention she continued on her path down to your aching core.

She gently placed a kiss on your small patch of curls on your mound. She let her hands travel to each leg before pushing them apart slightly so she could get a good look at your aching core. “Fuck baby! You’re dripping wet for me” she moaned as she let her finger slide up and down your folds gathering your juices on her finger.

You watched as she then placed her finger in her mouth and sucked it clean “and you taste amazing too baby” she smirked before going straight to eating out your pussy. You let out a deep moan at the touch of Phasma which only seemed to spur Phasma on even more.

She continued to use her tongue to trace patterns on your clit before finally sucking on the hard bundle of nerves. She continued to switch between tracing circles and sucking on your clit which made you buck your hips in pleasure and spread your legs even further to give Phasma better access to your aching cunt. You were getting close and Phasma could tell as your breaths were getting deeper and your moans getting louder.

“You going to cum for daddy?” Phasma said briefly before going back to paying attention to your throbbing clit. “Can I come daddy? Please, I'm so desperate for you. I want you to lick up all my cum daddy” you moaned throwing your head back as Phasma continued to torture your clit. “Cum for daddy baby girl” she moaned.

Upon hearing this you felt yourself cumming within an instance. “Fuck daddy I’m cu..cumming” you pratically screamed. Phasma helped you ride out your high before eventually just leaving little kitten licks on your clit which sent bolts of pleasure throughout your body.

“Hands and knees now” Phasma said sitting up allowing you to get in the desired position she wanted you in. “Pick and number between one and four” Phasma simply stated once you were in the position she wanted you in. “Three” you said randomly. Upon hearing that Phasma sucked on the desired amount of fingers before slowly entering into your tight pussy.

“Fuck your so wet for daddy” she moaned into your ear as she leaned over your back wrapping her arms around your waist. You waited for her to move inside you but she didn’t. “Please daddy” you moaned out hoping Phasma understood what you wanted. Of course she knew but she wanted to hear you beg. “What do you say?” she asked. “Please daddy fuck me with your fingers” you moaned trying to move your hips slightly.

Thankfully Phasma didn’t notice that action of yours as she thrusted her fingers deep inside your pussy which caused you to scream at the sudden fullness in your pussy. Fuck she felt good you thought to yourself. Phasma eventually found a pace that seemed to get you to the edge quite quickly. “I n.need to c.cum” you moaned as you felt Phasma’s other hand make its way down to your clit and start rubbing small circles on it.

“Cum for daddy baby girl. I want you to cum over and over again for me” she moaned as she thrusted her fingers deeper and played with your clit and that's just what you did. You came not once, not twice but four more times. You were exhausted and overly sensitive. Phasma finally pulled out which resulted in you letting out a small whimper at the loss of contact but instantly moaned as you watched her suck your cum off her fingers.

“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good baby” you moaned as you flipped your positions. You were topping the one and only Phasma and you couldn’t wait to make her feel the same way you did. You repeat the same action to Phasma leaving a trail of kisses focusing on her perfect breasts before slowly making your way to her throbbing cunt.

“Please baby girl! Make daddy cum” she moaned. It didn’t take much convincing before you found yourself exactly where you wanted to be. You teased her throbbing clit as you leaned into Phasma’s cunt licking up and down her folds. Phasma started to buck her hips against your mouth so you finally decided to enter a finger into her pussy.

You entered another finger into Phasma as you picked up your pace. “Mmm daddy is so wet for her little slut” you moaned into her pussy as you continued to fuck her at a brutal pace. “Yes, all for you my slut. Now fuck daddy like the King I am” she moaned as she started to grind into your hand. You teased her clit as you continued to fuck her with your fingers slowly adding another one deep inside her.

It wasn’t long until you started to feel her walls start to flutter and her moans filled the room. “Fuck, daddy is going to cum! Don’t stop, right there! Fuck I’m cumming” she screamed as you watched the orgasm take over her body. You slowly removed your fingers from her dripping core, placing them in your mouth as you tasted her cum.

You moaned at the taste but you wanted more. You needed to cum again. You positioned yourself so your legs intertwined with one another. You aligned your throbbing cunts together before you started grinding down on one another. You gazed into Phasma’s eyes as the two of you grinded on one another.

The whole experience was so intimate. You watched as pleasure was taking over her body. You were both so sensitive that you knew it wouldn’t be long until your orgasms would be taking over. As your orgasms got closer and closer the speed and intensity picked up. “Cum with baby” you moaned as you watched Phasma get closer and closer.

“Fuck baby i’m going to cum!” Phasma near enough screamed as you watched her orgasm take over her body. That was all it took to send you over the edge. You both rode out your highs before you eventually slowed down and came to a stop. You collapsed down next to Phasma. The two of you could quite easily keep fucking for hours and hours but you just wanted to enjoy Phasma’s company.

You laid down next to Phasma wrapping your arms around her naked body. Phasma pulled you close before wrapping you both in a blanket and pressing play on one of the movies. At this point you didn’t really care about the movie. You just wanted to spend the rest of the evening enjoying her company.

“I love you baby” you smiled as you snuggled up close to her. “I love you too” she smiled as she gave you a reassuring squeeze. You laid there in her arms thinking about this last year a bit. How you went from having a couple of one night stands, to hating each other to then being madly in love with this woman.

If you could have told your past self that you would now be laying in bed with the same woman celebrating your one year anniversary together you would have told your future self that she was talking utter bullshit.

Now the only thing you think about is what the future is going to hold for the two of you? Would you get married? Would you have kids? You didn’t care as long as you were with Phasma as you knew that she was your soulmate and she is the person you are supposed to be spending the rest of your life with.

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wherehyperfixationsgotodie · 9 days

Text

so i kind of went to see ajr this past weekend (they were absolutely phenominal btw, go see them if you haven't and you like their music) but during the down time i may have gone a little nuts with art. finally figured out my style, so that's good.

presenting: the babies

some extra notes about all of them (that didn't fit into the ref sheet)

x: - even though x is very in touch with their feminine side, putting she/her as pronouns didn't feel right. it's not a part of his Main Pronouns, yanno? if someone calls them that, though, they won't really mind, though it may throw them for a loop. - x is the only character in this headcanon that doesn't prefer one set of pronouns to the other. they're fine with they/them as much as he's fine with he/him - "nanah" as a nickname is derived from the fact that they lowkey look like a banana. also because two and x have food themed nicknames for eachother. - instead of calling him "xy" for a nickname like in canon, i went with xie instead. this is because, if you're aware of miraculous ladybug, like you've seen a handful of the earlier episodes, you might be aware of the fact that there's a character in that show named xy. he's a horrible person and i hate his guts. can't associate my favorite variable with that guy, the hell? - they're very prone to wandering off while in a store. also, they must touch everything. - x is the most emotionally intelligent out of the three. - x's favorite food is a bagel with cream cheese covered in strawberry jam.

two: - two prefers he/him pronouns to they/them pronouns, but also he doesn't want to fully label himself as anything. either is fine, though he very slightly prefers he/him. - two is very himbo, but the good kinda himbo! he’s not unable to do shit, they’re genuinely really dedicated and smart, but he gets pretty distracted from the task at hand if he isn't fully invested in it. if they put their mind to something though, they will get it done. - four only called two "twink" once and two started crying laughing about it. he finds it hilarious. - is still british! that's an important distinction since that's one of the core pieces of their character in canon fhdsufhdsu

four: - four prefers they/them as pronouns but also likes the feeling of being "boy," so him and two have opposite problems. - four has a resting bitch face, which means that x has scary dog privileges while they're out in public. - our has really bad panic attacks when they go out in public alone. like. sitting on the ground, back against a wall, sobbing violently kinda panic attacks. being with x and, as much as four hates to admit it, two helps a lot though. helps keep his mind off of everyone around him

anyways, thanks for reading, that's all. expect more art of them (i already have two more fully done pieces of them and one more that was supposed to be a sketch but kinda got away from me dfhsudihf.)

- moondancer

#i am Thinking about them if you can't tell #my friends all want me to shut up about the number guys /pos #bfdi #bfb #tpot #object show art #bfb four #bfb x #bfb two #xfohv #algebralien

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rowniebow · 1 year

Text

and they were roommates | peter parker x male!reader | 2/7

summary: an everything bagel and spider-man

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: gun :0

word count: 2.7k+

an: i hope everyone is doing okay with this flu that is going around. remember to stay safe and wash your hands !

previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒ next

⭒

you couldn't help but glare down at the man who resided on your couch. after an extremely long day at work, all you wanted was to watch a movie in your living room in peace.

you could only squeeze your fists and take a breath. you had your mind set on this stupid movie with stupid popcorn and you weren't going to let stupid peter parker on the couch get in the way of your time to recover from your job.

you threw a bag of instant popcorn into your guys' dirty microwave (that you refused to clean because it was most certainly dirtied from peter reheating spaghetti for too long and it exploding on to all the sides. you were sure he didn't clean it to spite you since you, admittedly, made a bigger deal out of it than it had to be.) and changed into comfortable clothing.

you sat the bowl of instant popcorn you had made on the coffee table and looked over the sleeping man. you chewed your lip, debating how this would go over if peter were to wake in a bad mood.

did you care, though?

no.

maybe a little.

i mean, he's irritating but it's not like you want to be mean.

you observed his sleeping face - well, as much of it as you could, anyway. a single eye and nose peaked out, the rest of his face shoved into the cushions. he snored quietly, dreaming of who knows what. his eyebrows were practically glued together

the dark circles under his eyes nearly made you reconsider and retreat with your bowl of practically pure butter and salt.

however, you were determined.

so, you took a deep breath and prepared to enact your plan.

you carefully sat the television remote as in reach of your planned destination as possible: on the arm rest of the couch. you had snagged a throw blanket from your room that you knew he'd like (you had a lot of throw blankets and peter often liked stealing them, so much so that you've been able to figure out what kind of fabric is his favorite) and tucked him in as gently as you could.

nodding to yourself, almost as if you were your own hype man, you acted out the hard part.

you gently slid your hand under his ankles that sat close together despite the rest of his body being so sprawled out. you, ever so slowly, lifted his ankles enough to slip your hips under, and worked your core so that you could slowly sit rather than plop down and make the couch bounce.

stomach burning, you let your hand lower his ankles down onto your lap. when all said and done, you took a moment to look at the bits and pieces of his face you could see from the opposite end of the couch.

all your movements ceased while he shifted with loosened eyebrows. your eyes bigger than ever, he settled and you sat satisfied with yourself.

clicking on to your movie of choice, you smiled at the warmth in your chest from your accomplishment and your comfort.

your fingers tingled and itched to fiddle with something. your jaw ached to chew. smile still on your face you looked around for your popcorn.

a loud groan of annoyance woke peter with a start from his peaceful slumber on his couch when you noticed where your popcorn sat: just barely out of reach.

⭒⭒

"peter! i swear to god, i- ugh!"

peter practically slammed his head into the wall at your irritated tone.

"what do you want?"

"quit leaving your damn clothes all over the place! i mean, christ, how hard is it to just put it on the floor in your own room?"

"pretty hard, actually."

you could barely muster a glare at the man leaning against the doorframe to his room, exhaustion haunting your features.

you leaned over and snatched up the hoodie he had left on the ground.

"alright," you muttered as you walked into your own room, just barely avoiding him from how close your room doors were to each other. "it's mine now then."

you shut the door, a glare on your face the whole time.

peter, quite frankly, was a bit slow at processing all of this. he stared at the closed door, his mouth slowly falling agape and his eyebrows knitting together.

"y/n-!"

"no!" your muffled yell rang out from behind the door.

peter, too tired from his nightly endeavors, only let his head fall and hang. a hand shot up to his neck to massage the growing tension in his muscles from his roommate.

"i really liked that one..." his words were quiet but you heard them all the same.

⭒⭒⭒

you, with your sleeping issues and a roommate who seemed to only leave the apartment between the hours of 9 p.m. and 4 a.m., seemed to only end up doing laundry at the latest hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning.

excuses were often made for why this was, specifically to said late-outing roommate when he was home sick one night and caught you in the act.

"no one is in the twenty-four hour laundromat at this hour."

"because everyone else in new york knows better than to be out on the streets right now."

"i'm busy all other times of the day."

"you could ask me to do it."

"like you would do it."

"i would if you had the balls to ask for help for once in your life."

"like you would do it right."

"okay, you know what-"

"go lay down, peter."

and sitting in the empty laundromat staring at the, now several, hoodies and sweaters that you have stolen from peter as to try and get him to stop leaving his clothes on the floor, your eyes danced along the fabric that had been tainted with stains from both him and yourself. the internal debate ran through your mind on what to do with them.

choosing kindness after several minutes, you came to your decision and threw the bunch in with your own laundry.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

walking back to your apartment was quite the struggle tonight. the clothes seemed heavier than usual and your feet dragged and tripped along each and every bump.

maybe it was because of the shift in weather. perhaps you were getting sick from the cold.

maybe it was because of the long hours at your stressful job.

maybe it was because you were just barely grasping on to one hour of sleep a night for the last week and a half.

but walking back to your apartment with the full, heavy laundry basket in your hands at two in the morning on a friday night was a decision you were certainly coming to regret.

you were glad you stopped in at the twenty-four-seven corner store and said hi to bernard, though. he even gave you a warm everything bagel.

the bagel in the paper bag atop your mountain of clothes seemed to be the only thing to stay in tact when you finally dropped the basket at the starting sound of someone's voice from behind you.

"hey!"

you grinned a little to yourself thinking of all the ways peter would say 'i told you so' to your grave if you died in this very moment.

you slowly turned around to see a man dressed to hide himself.

"hi-,"

"give me everything you have."

you stared at him, unmoving.

"now!"

"man, does it really seem like i got anything on me right now?"

the man stayed silent. he only fidgeted with his pockets. seeing how he treated the object in his pockets, you were very clear on what sat in them. you would never admit it but the thought of that - a gun - being in his pocket, terrified you.

"you want a bagel? i really was looking forward to it but-," you began to lean down and reach for the paper bag.

but your fears ran true and the man quickly stepped forward and held a gun up to you. your hands went up, the jacket that you had wrapped around you loosened and fell off your shoulders, sliding down your arms.

you could only leave your eyes closed while you tried to steady your breathing. the clicking of the metal rang in your ears.

see, living in new york all your life, you have been in quite a number of confrontations similar to this. you even took silent pride in the fact you had 'Casualed Your Way Out' of two other instances where guns were involved.

you didn't think your ego was ready to let you die to a third gun incident.

"listen man, the bagel is really good. still warm, too."

"i don't want you fucking bagel," he began to mumble back, taking steps closer. you could almost feel the chill of the metal on your chest.

eyes still closed, you heard a small whoosh and a clink from across the street. you peaked your eye open when you heard the man near you gasp and stutter.

"hey!" you couldn't really see where the voice was coming from, but you could tell it was from somewhere up. "you got a license for this thing?"

you kept your hands up (in all honesty, still too scared to move) and watched the hidden man fluster himself about over the disappearance of his gun. the hidden man hollered up curses but sticky whiteness only fell down and stuck over his feet, causing him to trip and lose his hood and his nickname.

"i'm gonna guess that's a no?" the iconic man clad in red and blue revealed himself to your sights from above. he stood in between you and the man. he looked up in fright, but didn't let that stop his foul and aggressive language.

"listen man!" spider-man shot his web at the man's mouth, closing it and shutting him up. "i know gun rights and free speech is in the constitution but we put some limits on both of those for good reasons!"

spider-man turned around to see you, standing with your hands still by your head with wide eyes.

"are you okay, sir?"

it took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.

"oh, yeah, for sure. i coulda had that. b-but, thank you."

"of course, all in a days work... um, why are you - if i can ask - why are you...doing laundry?" you watched him glance behind you at your fallen, newly dirtied clothes.

"oh- god dammit! there goes four dollars."

you hustled to scoop you laundry back into your basket.

"thank you very much, spider-man! would you like a warm everything bagel as a thanks?" you shoved the paper bag in his face but he only shook his head.

"o-oh, no thank you. i don't think you should be headed home alone, though,"

"oh i'm not headed home. i gotta go re-wash these." your nonchalant attitude and emotionless features despite the incident seemed to take the vigilante by surprise.

"sugar, you just got robbed, i don't think you should be going to re-wash your clothes now."

"sugar, i didn't get robbed you stopped them! and, i have a good deed to do! i need these clothes washed."

"let me walk with you then! you could get to know good ol' neighborhood spider-man on a personal level that most don't get." you couldn't see it, obviously, but you thought you could hear some sort of smolder. a smile pulled at your lips from that thought.

"i’m sure you have better things to do, bug boy. i appreciate it, though." you passed him and began walking back to the twenty-four hour laundromat.

"oh, actually! ding-ding, hear that? that's the sound of my shift being over. officially off the clock spider-man at your service." you listened to his footsteps trail behind yours.

"you should take the bagel then."

"i really don't need a bagel."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

"so, what got you into the whole spider-man thing?"

"being bitten by a radioactive spider."

"how was that?"

"painful."

"yikes!"

the two of you, you and spider-man, sat together in the empty laundromat at three a.m on a saturday morning while your clothes sat in the dryer.

"do you have a day job?"

"what?"

"i mean, you don't get paid for this vigilante stuff, right?"

"no, that's kind of the reason i have that label in the first place."

"what pays spider-man's bills?"

spider-man thought for a moment. "i am involved with newspapers."

you couldn't help but laugh at his statement.

"what?"

"involved with newspapers. in a spider-man way? or, what?"

"no! it's a day job. you don't mix your night and day job, that's lethal."

"oh, for sure." you smiled down at your feet. "you know, my roommate is involved with newspapers, too,"

i know, spider-man thought to himself.

"he does photos, though. i'm sure mr. spider-man does something super bold like front page pieces."

"photos are a vital part of the newspaper!"

"yeah?"

"yeah! it's what grabs reader's attention and all that."

"...'and all that'...?"

"yeah - okay. what about you?"

"what?"

"what do you do?"

"i wash my laundry at midnight on weekends."

"that's an amazing night job. what about your day job?"

you could only hum at first, your head beginning to get dizzy and your eyes heavier than ever before. "i'm a teacher."

i know that, too, spider-man thought. "what do you teach?"

"music. high school orchestra and band teacher."

"that's gotta be a... fun job."

"it is! i love it. you sound like it's a job i shouldn't be proud of."

"no, no! teachers are important. more important than spider-man and police officers, at least."

you laughed at his odd comparisons. teachers vs police. "i enjoy my job a lot. all the kids are so bright and, you know, for some reason i always have it in my head that kids are all the same and then i go into my classroom and see just how different each individual is. and, and, it translates into how they play their music. don't you think that's crazy? two people can be playing the same piece but it sounds completely different and you can see shards of their personality in their playing. it's great, i love it."

well, i didn't know all that, spider-man thought.

"i can tell!" you felt a blush creep around your cheeks at his words. you hadn't noticed your rambling. "that's good, we need teachers who care, right?" he bumped your knee with his own.

you couldn't help but notice how absurd it felt to be talking to a man in spandex who has the powers of a spider about your passions at this early in the morning on a saturday. you wondered if it was a dream.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

"well, thank you, for waiting for my clothes with me, spider-man."

"of course,"

"have a good night now."

"oh no, i'm taking you all the way home."

"okay- that's weird."

"it's for your safety! you don't know what other robbers are out here tonight."

"respectfully, i think i'm okay."

"respectfully, i disagree!"

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

"can you at least take the bagel?"

spider-man stared at the brown bag.

"it's not warm anymore, but it's still everything else but warm!"

"you know what, i think i'll just have to take you up on that everything but warm bagel."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

peter parker came home from his nightly endeavors, making sure to kill some time so it didn't seem like he was getting home as soon as spider-man left.

walking into his room, tired as ever, stumbling as always, he stopped when he flicked the lights on and found a pile of folded sweaters and hoodies that he hasn't seen in months on his bed.

peter made his way over, picking up the sticky note that had your lazy handwriting on it.

washed them for you, you can thank me with an everything bagel from bernard's

peter let an exhausted smile fall in his cheeks. "he really did have a good deed to do, huh?" he whispered to himself.

he picked up the hoodie, his favorite that he was well aware you had taken, and brought it to his nose. he breathed in the lavender detergent that you always used.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

"y/n!" peters voice ran through your head.

you groaned and pulled the blanket up further, not wanting to be awake this early (however early 'this early' was) on your day off.

"here, dumbass," his voice, softer this time, carried a paper bag over to flop on the bed near your feet.

your bedroom door closed and you peaked over your blanket to find the warm paper bag that would open to reveal an everything bagel from bernard's.

you smiled, hugging the warm bag.

⭒ next ⭒

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ereardon · 1 year

Text

Too Far Gone [Bradley "Rooster Bradshaw x Reader]

Summary: Your life changed forever the moment you fell for Bradley Bradshaw. But his life wasn’t an easy one to fit into. He had more baggage than lost and found at JFK airport. You were always one for a fixer upper. Bradley could be your ultimate passion project. But was he too far gone for you to save him?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

WC: 1.5K

Warnings: Angst, death

You could pinpoint the very moment you saw Bradley Bradshaw because your heart stopped for a beat.

Or maybe it just felt like that, but really it was the fact that the jukebox chose that exact second to cut out, eliciting groans from the other patrons. But there was nothing except a wide smile on your face as Bradley caught your gaze across the room.

The way his fingers circled your waist on the dance floor, the effortless way his lips curled back in a grin beneath his mustache when he looked at you, the hearty chuckle he let out when you recited your best dad jokes, all made you realize you somewhere deep in the recesses of your heart that he was it. He wasn’t just some guy you’d pick up at a bar and fuck under the cloak of night, wash away with a cycle of laundry the next day, a number never saved into your phone’s contact book, fingertips only ghosting over your skin, never laying down roots like pioneer settlers.

No, he was the kind of man you moved mountains for. The kind of man you worshiped under the faint yellow lamp light after a night spent picking furniture for your new house, the kind of man you took home to meet your mother and made sure she served him the good bagels, the kind of man you prayed to raise babies with.

The only problem was, he didn’t think he was.

You loved Bradley instantly. You were drawn to him, like mosquitos on moist skin during a hike in Acadia. He was your candy. He was the whole fucking pre fixe menu. He was your lifeline.

And he was terrified every time you told him that fact.

Bradley didn’t have to woo you. You were already his. But he did it, anyway. Maybe to prove to you that he knew your worth. Maybe to prove to himself that he was worth your time.

You moved into his home, the one he had shared with his mother before she died, six months after that night at the bar.

You told him you loved him after four months. Took him to meet your mother back in New York for Christmas. Laughed at the way he attempted to sleep comfortably, all six foot two inches of him, on your childhood double bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and the shrine of photos your mother kept on the walls that made it look like your wake, every step down the hall revealing another portrait, your childhood seemingly spread out in framed perpetuity.

You understood when he didn’t say it back right away. You had always been like that: quick to fall. Quick to confess. Quick to hurt.

Bradley was the opposite. He needed structure and you tried to give it to him. He needed space sometimes and you let him have it. You knew when his eyes grew dark and his lip twitched but he remained silent that he needed to be alone. You were the rainbow in the sunlight after his stormy days. No matter how far he receded, you knew that he’d come back around. He always did. Fingers reaching out to thread through the waistband of your jeans, dragging you onto his lap, his lips pressed tightly beneath your ear.

I’m sorry, he would say. I’m trying.

You begged him to tell you what was wrong. You begged him to tell you what was rolling around in his beautiful mind. You needed to know what pain lingered away in the cabinet of his heart that he kept under lock and key.

You begged him to fight. If only because it would guarantee he would finally tell you the truth.

He was a closed book and you were a voracious reader. You read all the contextual material but you had yet to read the source. You knew everything about him that he let you know, but nothing that truly mattered.

After a year, you were still saying I love you to a silent half of the bed, Bradley curled away so he couldn’t see the tears slipping down your face.

But you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to stay, you knew it.

He was the man of your dreams, but he couldn’t say it.

It didn’t matter. He showed you he loved you every day. It was the way he rested his chin on your shoulder as you cut cucumbers for a salad. The way he always filled up your car with gas when it slipped below half because he knew how much you hated to pump it yourself. It was how he always made sure to keep your favorite coffee in the cupboard, and how he’d create a space for you to snuggle into him on the couch, your guilty pleasure show already queued up and ready to play.

So after a year, you thought maybe he would never say it. That maybe it didn’t matter to hear the person you loved more than life, more than air, tell you that they loved you back in words. Perhaps it didn’t matter that he had never said it. He showed it in every choice he made, every breath he took.

But then you snapped.

The wine curdled in your stomach along with vodka and beer and you had a finger pressed to his chest in the kitchen with one light flickering intermittently, your shoes splayed somewhere near the door, Bradley’s shirt rumped from where you had fisted handfuls near his collar in anger as he parked the car after a night out.

Why don’t you love me? Your demanding words filled the kitchen. The space you loved. The house you adored. The comfortable life you had once only dreamed of. And you were ready to throw it all away for three words.

When did I ever say I didn’t? His soft brown eyes were filled with regret and looking at them too long made you want to dig yourself a grave and lie down in it, stop causing him so much pain, stop being such a burden, stop making his life harder than it already was.

When you never said it to start. The tearful echo of your cracked voice bounced off the walls, filling Bradley’s heart with sorrow.

He reached out and pulled you into his arms. I do love you. I’m just scared.

And then the file cabinet in his heart sprung open. He was afraid. He was terrified. He had watched his mother mourn his father for his entire life. He had watched Mav walk away from him. He had watched his wingman die. He had seen his teammates get shot down. He had loved someone who had left him in the middle of the night. He had loved his mother as she died peacefully in his arms. He had known love and death and he was reeling from the impact of it all.

He was the physical embodiment of sadness. He was pain personified. He was broken, he said.

You’re not broken, you replied.

You can’t save me, no matter how hard you try.

Yes, I can.

And you tried. Bradley collapsed in your arms and you brushed away the tears, whispered in his ear how kind he was, how loved he was.

Every day you told him he was loved. Cherished. Good enough. Smart enough. Kind enough. Strong enough.

But it wasn’t enough.

So when the stick turned pink, you didn’t try to stop the tears from falling. It felt like a trap. A vicious circle. You knew he would leave. Why would he stay? His greatest fear was pain. There was no greater pain than having a child you would one day have to leave.

You considered leaving. You considered staying. In the end, it was Bradley’s choice.

He held the test in his large hands and you watched tears slip down his cheeks.

To your surprise, he got down on his knees, fingers gently lifting up the hem of your shirt. He pressed his lips to your still flat stomach.

I love you. His words reverberated beneath your skin, enveloping your unborn child. It was the first time you heard him say it unprompted. He raised his eyes to yours. I love you, too.

You couldn’t fix him if he didn’t want to be fixed. Your son’s hands in his father’s was the only medicine that could attempt to erase all of the pain in Bradley’s life. All of the mistakes and heartache and sorrow that filled him to the brim, threatened to spill over onto the spotless floor of the life you two had built together.

It wasn’t until years later, when your son was grown and you watched Bradley hold his grandson in his arms for the first time that you realized he had never been as broken as he had led you to believe. The pieces had always been there.

All it took was one look across the bar to know that you would be the one to put him back together, make him whole.

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