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mysunshinetemptress · 9 months

Text

All I know

Here it is hope you like it :)

Warnings: elements of underage drinking but other then that none

Y/n sighed as she helped unloaded the truck, the noise of people preparing for tonight’s event around her made her smile she loved this part of the rodeo the calm before the storm. Y/n wasn’t partaking in tonights events she left the bull riding to her brothers who themselves where told they weren’t allowed partake after their 28th birthday, their father had put strict rules down in order to keep the future of the Ranch safe and if they where going to be professional bull riders the the future of the Ranch wouldn’t be safe. That’s why tonight Beck and Tristan where the only two Wesso boys riding, Will had turned 28 three months previously which had caused an argument that Y/n still didn’t fully think was resolved but she definitely wasn’t going to be the one to ask.

“Will, Y/n go with your Mom I’m going to go book your brothers in.” Y/n nodded following her Mom in search for her cousin “You going to find your wife tonight Will.” Will shoved his sister “shut your mouth I ain’t finding a wife at a rodeo.” Y/n laughed “well you never know.” Y/n laughed again as Will went to push her “Will stop shoving your sister and Y/n stop windin him up come on now.” Y/n jumped hearing a scream before feeling something hit her back “oh my god I missed you.” Y/n laughed pulling her cousin Savannah into a hug, the pair where best friends only being three days apart they spent every waking moment of their childhood together she was the closest thing Y/n had to a sister “I missed you too Bailey.” Savannah laughed at the nickname they had called each other the same names as their horses stating it would strengthen their bond between them and their horse as well as each other. “Tex you remember my roommate Grace.” Y/n looked past Savannah to a copper haired girl “yeah you came to thanksgiving last year, it’s nice to see you again.” Gracie smiled at Y/n pulling her into a hug “watch her hat Gracie she’s very particular about it, so don’t knock it off her head.” Y/n rolled her eyes a “you ready for tonight.” Gracie asked Y/n nodded nervously she liked parties in Texas they where normally chill enough but what was a party in California going to be like. “It’s ok Tex your going to fit right in.” Y/n eyes Savannah suspiciously. “We are gonna go get some drinks but we will meet y’all at the seats.” Y/n waved goodbye to Gracie and her cousin before turning back to her oldest brother and mom “I swear to god that girl better not try convince me to go to this college I’m going to tonight cause I ain’t going.” Will laughed shaking his head “Y/n your the only one out of all of us who applied to college and when you got in you turned it down.” Y/n nodded “yep sure did.”

Y/n sat between her father and Savannah as she looked on at the riders currently participating in barrel racing “why didn’t you ever get into this Tex.” Y/n looked at her father then back to Savannah “Daddy wouldn’t let me said it was to dangerous, and then you remember Kelsey Wallic, she was two years above is in middle well after her accident there was no point in arguing with him about it.” Savannah laughed, Y/n had was the type of girl who looked for her father’s approval on everything, always did what she was told, let them know where she was going and with who and what time she would be back and she would always be back on that time. Savannah can’t remember a time where she was any different but she knows she was the parents of their family always talked about how wild she used to be but those stories always stopped by the time Y/n was four, “Curiosity killed a cat.” Is what she was always told anytime she tried to ask but she also wondered if it had any link to why Y/n was so particular about her hat whether it was a trucker hat or her cowboy hat Y/n was rarely seen without one on her head.

Y/n ran from her family and Gracie jumping on Beck and Tristan “that’s the best any of you have ever placed at the Rodeo.” Beck smiled pulling Y/n into him “well I was concentrating on you screaming the entire time that may have helped.” Tristan nodded “yeah but only a little.” Y/n shoved the pair as the family began walking back to the pickups “right so we are dropin you three off and heading back to the hotel, we are leavin 12 on the dot so don’t be late y/n.” Y/n nodded “yes Daddy I promise I won’t be late.”

Y/n sighed feeling her hands start to sweat as she made her way up to the house with Savannah and Gracie “you will be ok Y/n I promise it will be a goodnight.” Gracie smiled squeezing Y/n’s arm trying to reassure her. Y/n sent her a short smile in appreciation “thanks Gracie.”

Y/n looked around surprised before she started laughing turning to look at the pair behind her “you brought me to a cowboy themed party.” Savannah started laughing “Told you would fit in fine Tex, now you don’t have to fret over wearing your hat.” Gracie laughed watching the pair.

Y/n looked around the room amused this was to funny people dressed up how they thought cowboys dressed up other people dressed up with the aim to show as much skin as possible, if her brothers could see all these people they would stand here point and laugh. “You only come to parties to people watch or do you get in on the fun.” Y/n turned towards the voice, y/n felt the air get caught in her throat as she stared at the beautiful girl in front of her “eh no not tonight I’ve got an early mornin tomorrow.” The mystery girl laughed “you know I’m pretty sure the accent isn’t a requirement to get into the party but it’s really good.” It was Y/n’s turn to laugh “it’s not well shit I’ve been practicing real hard.” The mystery girl laughed again “I’m Jenna, and it is mighty fine to meet you.” Y/n laughed at Jenna’s southern accent “that’s not bad if I hadn’t heard your accent first I might have just believed it, I’m Y/n.” Jenna smiled “so do I get to hear your real accent now that we aren’t strangers.” Y/n smiled “I’m afraid this is it.” Jenna felt her cheeks heat up and she was thankful for the dark lighting “oh god your actually southern, I wasn’t doing it to offend you I was just trying to joke around.” Y/n laughed placing her hand on Jenna’s arm “it’s ok, I wasn’t offended, I’m from Texas, where are you from.” Jenna smiled greatfully “I’m from California, Coachella to be more specific.” Y/n smiled “your a good bit away from Texas what has you here.” Y/n laughed “here at this very party or here as in California.” Jenna smiled “both.” Y/n looked over towards the crowd of people before looking back to the brunette “I’m in California for a rodeo that I went to earlier and I’m at this party because my cousin that blonde over there rubbing herself on that poor boy and her roommate that copper haired girl who keeps looking over here invited me.” Jenna smiled “what brings you to this party.” Jenna froze momentarily debating on what she should say before looking into Y/n’s eyes and suddenly relaxing “this is one of the few nights I had planned where I get to be normal.” Jenna couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted as she watched Y/n’s eyes knit forward “what do you mean.” Jenna smiled at her “I filmed a tv show a while back it comes out in about a month I got a month left to be just me before all the mayhem starts.” Y/n smiled at her “well I’m glad I get to meet you as normal Jenna.” Jenna smiled studying Y/n’s features “can I try on your hat.” Y/n laughed again “no.”

Jenna and Y/n sat talking to each other in a quite corner of the room, before they where interrupted by Savannah and Gracie “Tex, we have been looking for you what are you doing sitting over here.” Y/n smiled at Savannah clearly tipsy “I’m talkin to Jenna.” The older girls looked to the brunette sitting beside her “hey I know you.” Gracie piped up, Jenna continued smiling but Y/n could tell something had changed her body language giving it away. “Yeah Gracie I’m sure you do, what do you guys need.” Savannah laughed “nothing Tex we just had no idea where you wandered off to so we came lookin but your alright so we are going to get more drinks.” Y/n sighed “be safe Bailey.” Savannah turned looking to her younger cousin “you know tipsy or not I can knock an asshole to the ground don’t worry about us.” Y/n laughed waving them off as she turned back to Jenna. “You ok.” Jenna smiled “I will be if you let me wear your hat.” Y/n laughed shaking her head “no.” Jenna whined “why not come on we are friends now.” Y/n smiled “I got hat hair and it ain’t pretty.”

Y/n couldn’t tell you what time it was but in all honesty she didn’t care sitting on some dirty old couch talking to Jenna about anything and everything the world just seemed to disappear “hold on now I just realised if we are going to take this friendship seriously I need to know your birthday.” Jenna laughed at Y/n’s seriousness “really you want to know my birthday.” Y/n nodded “yep.” Jenna laughed again “it’s already past it doesn’t matter.” Y/n shook her head “nope I need to know.” Jenna smiled “the 27th of September, so I just turned 20.” Y/n smiled “well happy birthday.” Jenna laughed again “thank you, so when’s yours.” Y/n smiled “mines about two weeks out.” Jenna smiled letting out a huff “hey I told you mine it’s only fair.” Y/n laughed “okay fine, it’s October 31st, I’ll be 20 in two weeks time.” Jenna looked at Y/n amazed “that is the coolest birthday ever.” Y/n laughed at Jenna’s excitement “it’s pretty cool I can’t lie.” Y/n sighed staring at Jenna taking in her features getting lost in counting the freckles that formed on Jenna’s cheeks before she was pulled back to reality feeling her hat move on her head “nope.” Jenna laughed at getting caught “come on Y/n we just took a big step in our friendship telling each other our birthdays let me wear it.” Y/n smiled shaking her head before her attention was pulled to the boy standing in front of them. “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you where.” Y/n looked over at Jenna who smiled at the compliment the boy had just offered her “thank you.” Y/n watched him eyeing up his outfit, his version of a cowboy outfit included boots jeans a white tank top and some cheap hat he has to have picked up at the dollar store, y/n couldn’t help but laugh as she looked at him drawing Jenna’s attention towards her for a second before the boy started talking again “I was going to ask you to dance but I have a better idea, care to wear the hat and ride the cowboy.” Y/n watched him reach up to grab his hat before she pulled hers off placing it on Jenna’s head. “I recommend you walk away before I do something I might regret.” The boy soon shuffled away before Y/n turned back to Jenna. “Seriously all it took for me to get your hat was for some guy to flirt with me.” Y/n shook her head standing up “he wasn’t flirting Jenna he was being gross.” Jenna looked at Y/n confused standing up from the couch “ I don’t understand.” Y/n looked around the room before her attention was takin back to Jenna as the brunette grabbed her hand “want to get out of here.” Y/n looked around spotting Savannah at the far side of the room “yeah but I got to get something first.” Jenna grabbed Y/n’s hand lacing her fingers through the Texans as Y/n pulled her through the crowd. When they reached Savannah Jenna couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as Y/n squeezed her hand “I need your hat Bailey.” Savannah turned looking at Y/n confused before she looked at Jenna realising why “oh your gettin some tonight.” Y/n shook her head thankful the dark lights hid the blush spreading across her face “no I’m not but I’m leaving and I need a hat so.” Savannah laughed pulling her hat off her head “I want that back you hear me.” Y/n looked at her seriously “I don’t plan on keepin it, I promise.”

Jenna followed behind Y/n through the crowds of people as she watched Y/n readjust the hat on her head “uhhhh.” Jenna looked at Y/n confused “what’s wrong.” Y/n looked at Jenna “Savannah has her shaped weirdly I don’t like the way it’s sitting on my head.” Jenna smiled at the Texan “well yours is lovely sits perfectly on my head.” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Jenna “aww I’m glad but I’m going to need it back at some point.”

The pair walked around never letting go of each others hand before stopping and sitting in a park. “Can I ask a question.” Y/n nodded picking at the grass “what did that boy mean, like why did you give me your hat while he was talking to me.” Y/n sighed “he said wear the hat ride the cowboy, it’s a country thing ehm when a cowboy gives you his hat and says something like that it means he wants to have sex with you.” Jenna looked at Y/n as it slowly sank in what the boy meant “oh.” Y/n just looked at the trees as Jenna cleared her throat “so does that mean you want to have sex with me.” Y/n looked at Jenna feeling her cheeks start to redden “no, I gave you my hat so he wouldn’t try put his on your head and I’m letting you wear it that’s why I went and took Savannahs.” Jenna looked at Y/n confused “why not just take it back.” Y/n smiled grabbing Jenna’s hand “cause I’m telling all the cowboys out there that I want to see you again that I’m interested in seeing you again, you understand.” Jenna looked down at Y/n’s hand “as a friend.” Y/n felt her heart sink “yeah yeah of course.” Jenna pulled out her phone “I better get going but why don’t you give me your number and we can text, I want to see you again too.” Y/n smiled reaching out taking Jenna’s phone before typing in her number. “You got instagram.” Jenna nodded “what is it I want to follow it before you are anyone different then normal Jenna.” Jenna laughed putting her name in the search bar and clicking follow. The pair stood up before Jenna grabbed Y/n into a tight hug “thank you, tonight was the most normal I have felt in awhile.” Y/n smiled at the brunette “no problem, now anytime you want to feel normal I’m only a phone call away.” Jenna smiled squeezing Y/n one more time before pulling away and walking off “hey, I’m gonna need my hat back.” Jenna laughed “well then how are all the cowboy’s going to know you want to see me again.” Y/n laughed “they’ll know.” Jenna shook her head “I’m taking this as insurance, your going to need it back and I want to see you again so this way I know you will.” Y/n let out a huff but nothing else and smiled as Jenna turned to walk off before collecting her self and making her way back to the hotel.

A/n

First chapter done, I’m still trying to work out how it’s going to progress but for now I hope it’s ok

P.s Jenna kept laughing cause your so funny

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book-place · 2 years

Text

To Be Tommy

Warnings: 1x04 spoilers, cursing, grenade, explosion, let me know if I missed any :)

Parings: Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Finn Shelby x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: In the middle of a competition to see who could be the best Tommy Shelby, something goes wrong

A/N: I was in the mood to write for Peaky Blinders

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Vrooom!” Finn made the noise effects with his voice as he pretended to steer Tommy’s car, arms swiftly moving from side to side.

He looked over at you with a large, childish grin that took up at least half of his face, “Look, Y/n! I’m just like Tommy!”

You rolled your eyes slightly at your twin brother and crossed your arms with a huff, “But I want to be Tommy!” The complaint came out as a whine.

It was then Finn’s turn to roll his eyes in annoyance, ‘clicking’ his tongue to the best of his ability, “You can’t be Tommy!”

“Why not?” You demanded.

“‘Cause you’re a girl!” He said matter of factly, head turning the other way as he stuck his nose up.

Steam was practically coming out of your ears by this point, “Oh just you wait, Finn Shelby! I’ll be a better Tommy than you! Watch this, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was a word you had heard your elder brother say very often, but Polly always warned you that she better not ever catch you saying it. She then normally proceeded to slap Tommy upside the head for saying it in front of you.

Finn gasped and gaped at you, appalled that you would try to top him like that, “Hey!” He exclaimed in anger, “That’s cheatin’! It’s too easy!”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms and sticking your tongue out at him, “Well then you should have done it before me.”

All of a sudden, the sound of hasty steps filled your ears, and your head snapped up with wide eyes when your older brother's voice called out, “Finn. Y/n.”

There was an urgency behind it that you had never heard before. He was always so calm and collected. So sure of himself, it was one of the things that you hoped to learn from him someday.

He slowly walked towards the two of you, a hand raised as if to calm someone down, “Finn, Y/n, stay exactly where you are.” Though it was supposed to be an order, it almost sounded like a beg.

You giggled, not yet old enough to actually comprehend the out of character concern that your second eldest brother was displaying, “We were pretending to be you.” You explained between laughs.

Finn gave a cheeky grin, “Yeah! And I’ve obviously been better than her.”

Before you could open your mouth to begin to argue against him again, Tommy continued speaking, “Which door did you two come in?”

“We didn’t.” The young boy stated proudly, momentarily forgetting your argument as he shared a prideful look with you, “We climbed in. Me first, then I helped Y/n in.”

Tommy continued moving, coming around to the window of the car, “I want you to climb out exactly the way you climbed in, okay?”

Finn looked to the side at you, pouting slightly because the game was over, but you merely shrugged as if to say that you didn’t need the car to play.

But a mischievous look came over your twin brother's face, and this time it was him that was giggling as he opened the door closest to him and jumped out.

“No, no, Finn!” Tommy yelled, grabbing a grenade that fell out of the door and chucking it in the direction away from the three of you, shouting, “Clear!” To the nearby people.

Then he didn’t waste a second scooping you out of the car, taking Finn in his other arm and running the opposite way, shielding the both of you with his own body as an explosion took place behind you.

All three of you were panting heavily, you grasping onto a fist full of your older brother's jacket as tears began to well up in your eyes, just like you could hear was happening to Finn.

After waiting at least thirty seconds to make sure everything was okay, Tommy finally set you both down and turned around, but grasped your hands in his own as he walked, as if to reassure himself that you were both still there and alive.

He suddenly stopped walking and kneeled down, taking you each by a shoulder and looking back and forth directly into your eyes, shaking you slightly, “That is why you should never pretend to be me.” He panted out, “Okay?”

You and your twin brother each tearfully nodded, prompting Tommy to stand up and bring you both into a long hug that was given back tightly by both of you as you grasped onto the man you both looked up most to in the world for comfort.

“But, Tommy…” You said after a moment, pulling away and sniffling as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, “I’m a better Tommy than he is. Watch. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The tears could still be heard in your voice and there was no longer the same urgency as when you had been saying the word before.

Despite everything, your older brother let out a watery chuckle and ruffled your hair, “Yeah, n/n, you’re doing it better.”

“What?” Finn exclaimed in outrage, stomping a foot, “I can do that too! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Tommy threw you a sneaky and playful wink, “Sure, Finn. You can do it too… just don’t tell Aunt Polly.”

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romancingdaffodils · 8 months

Text

Love Kills.

part 1

bassist!rockstar!remus lupin x roadie!reader

In which one of your closest friends happens to be Sirius Black, who is also the drummer in the infamous punk band: The Marauders. You’ve met Remus Lupin twice before the tour begins and you found yourself quite enthralled with him. The more time you spend, the greater the need is.

warnings : mention of drinking, and that’s about it. gender neutral reader with a small understanding of drums and stuff :333

title stolen from Love Kills - Joe Strummer

hiii i know you missed me

i’d like to give a special thanks to @alegsy for all his help on this one. and if you like Alex turner go check out @joepublicspeakings :33. Seriously Al thank you much for helping me out with all the roadie tech stuff and ideas and punk music too it really means a lot and i love you sooooo much. thank u smsm

ps pls ignore that matt plays electric and not bass it’s not my fault i love him so much

Sirius Black was by far the most interesting man you've ever met. He was also the reason you were stood with your hands clasped tightly around the handles of two stuffed bags.

"C'mooon, you know me, it'll be fun! You like the music, know the tech, got the skills nailed. You're the perfect roadie, join us." Sirius begged, following you around the bar. You frowned at him. Unfortunately for the raven haired man, you liked your job, which meant it took a lot more convincing to get you onside.

"Sleeping in a glorified caravan for god knows how many days doesn't exactly seem like my idea of fun! Plus, Sirius, I only really know James. Met the other lanky one, what, twice? Don't know the last guys name! It's not fair." you argued, crossing your arms and glaring at him. You had included a small white lie in the fact Remus Lupin was not known as the lanky one in your mind - you were familiar with the version of him that haunted your daydreams. He pouted at you. Yes, the fully grown man pouted at you.

"It pays well-ish! It'll get you in with the industry and it's months with your favourite person, ever. Me! On top of that, it's not a glorified caravan, we invested this year so shut your trap." he whined, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

"Right, fine, maybe. I'll, consider it. And, never ever say 'shut your trap' again. You're a daft twat, you know that?" you caved. He grinned.

"So that's a yes! And I'll do you the favour of assuming you're just trying to keep me humble." he grinned once again. Mentally, you smashed your head through a glass pane. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Nice shirt.” a voice spoke from beside you, giving you a small smile. You smiled back. The lanky one - Remus Lupin, you reminded yourself. Not that you needed much reminding; the honey eyed man stuck firmly in your brain.

“Thanks, didn’t know you liked Bowie. Thought all the punk stuff would be more for you.” you joked, peering up at him. He scoffed, as though your statement was the most insane thing he’d heard.

“Can still like the ‘punk stuff’ and Bowie. Plus, he’s a genius. Done every style and more, like.” he replied, some sort of northern accent coming in thick and fast. He was different to Sirius in many ways and you took comfort in it. Even though, at times, Remus was a tad bit mean. But, not really to you. The three times (including now) you’d met him he’d been quite lovely. Sirius had chewed your ear off about that.

“It took me years to get a grin out of him! And you do it straight away? It’s so not fair!” he whined, leaning against the counter of the pub’s bar.

“You’ll recover, posho, promise.” you said, giggling to yourself at his heartbreak.

“Yeah, suppose you’re right. Nice to see you again, by the way. It’s been a while. ‘m excited for the tour and stuff.” you said, deciding that changing the subject might suit you better.

“Me too, can’t believe Sirius actually got you on as a roadie. Did he physically fight you for it? Last time we asked you were dead set against it.” he gestured for you to walk beside him as he spoke. He was holding his bags in one hand and his bass case in the other. He made short work of putting everything bar his bag of necessities into the storage bin. Then, quickly took your own off of you, shoving them into the storage of the bus. He didn’t seem to mind doing the heavy lifting for you.

“He harassed me, a lot. At work. A lot. It’s fine though, I think I’ll enjoy it if I’m honest. If all else fails at least I’ll get contacts and friends out of it, yeah?” Remus snickered. He smiled down at you as he closed up the storage compartment.

“I’ve been telling myself that for the past, what? Decade? Trust me, he entices you in, you’re trapped now. Failed plenty of times and don’t think I’ve gained much - apart from wanting to bash all three of their heads in. On multiple occasions.” you giggle; he smiles.

“Ah well, just promise me you won’t let me kill anyone then. I’ll do the same for you.” you said, holding out your pinky for him to close the promise. It was childlike and somewhat immature, sure, but it locked the deal closed. Wrapping his pinky around yours, Remus silently agreed to your proposition.

“It’s nice to meet you— Jesus Christ! You’re lanky. Sorry. That was mean. Remus, right?! I’m the one Sirius told you about.” you shouted over the blaring music. Submission by the Sex Pistols was causing the entire room to shake and was rocking you to your core.

“Yeah. I know you. Been trying to keep up with Pads, by chance?” Remus chuckled down at you, assuming you weren’t always this dishevelled.

“Always. Thought I could out drink him, you know, for a posh boy, the lad can drink.” he smiled.

“Perks of going to a boarding school. Mix with all sorts of people, it was good for him.” you smiled.

The night seemed to fly by and you couldn’t keep yourself away from Remus. Flocking to him like a moth to a flame, your cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. Thankfully, the incomprehensible amount of vodka you had consumed helped dull the pain.

“Can’t believe we haven’t met before.” you purred, peering up at him.

“Neither. Pads is cruel, keeps all his best friends to himself. Didn’t know there was anyone else on the planet who actively enjoyed The Clash and Dostoyevsky.” he responded, bringing a green tinted glass bottle to his lips.

“Let me try it.” you demanded, holding out your hand.

“You don’t like beer.” he said, giving you a small grin.

“Wanna try, it might be different.”

“Oh, yeah? All the beers you’ve had in your life and this one just might be different.” despite his teasing, he offered you the bottle. It did in fact not taste any different. It still tasted like piss.

“Nah, still rank.”

“Shame, that, really.”

You grinned. He smirked.

The tour bus was now filled. The four key members of the band: James, Sirius, Remus and Pete, who you’d finally remembered the name of and the rest of the members of your new team. Oh! And the support band, who you kept forgetting about, The Valkyries. Lovely girls, all of them. It tickled you somewhat that James and Lily were in rival bands. And, that some how they’d persuaded the rivals to support them. The roadies with you had mostly known the Marauders since school, which inevitably led to you feeling like an outcast. It really struck home as they were all discussing stories from their youth. The road was a relentless treadmill of travel and you were provided no solace. Until a small voice called your name.

“You busy?” Remus asked, poking his head into your bunk.

“Trying to be.” you joked, smiling over at him. He looked ridiculously oversized compared to the glorified caravan.

“Don’t think you aren’t welcome. They’re lovely. Sit up a bit, will you? My knees are killing I need to sit down.” you sat up, as he instructed. He sat on the bunk opposite yours, you faced him directly. It was a little scary- his ability to practically read your mind.

“I’m sure they are, just having second thoughts, as always. Dunno, you lot all went to school together. So, just a bit of an outcast, yanno?” you whispered, emphasising this was for Remus’s ears only. He nodded his head, and then began to shake it.

“Y’not an outcast. Promise. They’ll all love you once they get to know you. Like Pads does, poor fucker can’t leave you alone.” you laughed; he smiled. It wasn’t a sympathetic smile; it was genuine.

“I love Sirius too. Best friend you could ask for, really. It’s just such a shame he’s such a slag.” you joked. Remus laughed.

“Really is. How’ve you been since the incident?”

Remus’s hand was acting as a makeshift bobble as you threw up into the bar toilet. His other hand was rubbing small circles into your back.

“I hate him! I hate how much he can drink and- I hate this stupid bar.” you whined, in between sobs. Throwing up always made you cry.

“Shhh, yeah, I know. Come on, let it all out. Y’don’t need to cry, sweetheart, you’re fine. Just have to let it all out.” he cooed, still rubbing your back. God knows how you’d ended up exclusively talking to Remus the whole night and somehow still trying to out drink Sirius. You’d been fucked when the taller of the two showed up and now you were completely gone.

“This is so embarrassing. Sorry, I feel awful.” you threw up again after that.

“Got nothing to feel sorry about. Listen, been there done that with Sirius. Learnt my lesson the hard way too, plus I’m taller than you. Takes a lot more to get me drunk, yeah? He’s just insane. Don’t worry about it.” he comforted, not at all bothered by your sickness. Giving him a dopey smile, you were eternally grateful - even in your drunken state - that it was Remus you had befriended that night.

“Thank you, tell you what, I’ll do you a deal.” Remus nodded “Pinky promise if you ever get plastered I’ll do the same for you”. Holding out his pinky, Remus tilted his head at you. You locked pinkies with him for the first time (and most definitely not the last time).

“Good deal. Do you think we should get you home? Are you close? I’ll walk you if you are.” he offered, wrapping an arm around you to pull you up.

“Yeh, like ten minutes. Thank you, Remus, really. Bet you’re glad it’s me and not you, huh?” you joked, trying to add light to the situation. Leaning into him, you were relying solely on him to stay upright.

“Nah, know you’d do the same for me. Pinky promised it, didn’t you? And, it’s no problem. Think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Don’t bring that up around me. I’m still so embarrassed.” you complained, burying your head into your hands. Chuckling, Remus shook his head.

“Could’ve been worse, you could’ve declared your undying, unrelenting and pure love for Lily, whilst stood on top of the bar and using an empty vodka bottle as a microphone for the announcement. Poor Lils never recovered.” You lifted your head to give him the loudest laugh ever.

“They’re sooo cute. It’s upsetting.” you said, lying back down in your bunk. Remus watched your every move, subconsciously. “Oh, you said your knees were hurting. You get pains? Arthritis? My mum gets that in her knees, she just keeps moving, but I think it’s making it worse.” you rambled, turning your head to face him.

“Oh, yeah, just chronic pains, really. Just try and rest as often as possible.” he explained, stretching out his legs across the two bunks. His legs fell atop your own, now creating a bridge between the gap in the bunks. You smiled over at him.

“Must suck, huh? Well, let me know if I can help. Tour isn’t really resting.” you offered, giving him a big smile.

“Yeah, thank you, speaking of tour we aren’t far off Glasgow now.” he stated, peering out the window and then down at his watch.

“I’m ecstatic.” you stated sarcastically as your stomach twisted with nerves. Telling you not to worry, the sandy haired man gave you a smile that only made your stomach twist further.

The venue was a shit hole. A complete and utter shit hole. The ceiling had a badly patched up leak, which had almost destroyed Pete’s copy of the setlist. The reason Sirius had been so desperate to get you on his staff was because you specialised in drums - his instrument, of course. You’d managed to get everything set up relatively quickly. Carefully, you began to tighten the cymbals, listening for the correct pitch and length of the ring. Humming as you worked, you stopped every so often to admire the work of the rest of the team. Frank, who specialised in strings, was particularly impressive. He had finished up rather quickly and moved on to help his girlfriend, Alice, with getting everything ready for vocals. It seemed everyone here, but you had the perfect relationship. James and Lily were a lifetimes worth supply food for the green eyed monster. Frank and Alice were just as cute, but less well known as they weren’t in the limelight.

“All good?” he shouted over at you. You gave him a thumbs up and smiled over at Alice, who was fighting with some duct tape and a wire. Everything was all good for you, at the moment.

Finally, you finished up the final checks and placed a backup pair of sticks beside Sirius’s chair. It was then onto sound checks, all went well. You actually really quite liked the Marauders music. With inspiration from bands like The Clash and The Jam it’s hard to make a bad sound. He was weird in that he’d always carry around his sticks before the show, believing it would bring him good luck. In fact, in the first show you found out all the boys weird pre-show rituals. Pete laid down on the couch and threw chocolate raisins into his mouth. James clung onto Lily ever so slightly more than usual and insisted on drinking a shot of olive oil. As the lead singer he swore upon it for lubricating the vocal cords. You nearly gagged when you watched him do it. Whereas, Remus sat outside, cigarette in one hand and a cadburys chocolate bar in the other.

Trying to escape the rest of the boys, you ended up going outside and bumping into Remus during this. Quenching your thirst for normality, you couldn’t help your next actions. “Oh, sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” you stated, giving him a small smile as you gravitated towards him.

“Nah, take it you saw James’s shot?” he said, before taking a long drag from the cigarette. Wincing, you looked at him with pure disgust in your eyes. “No I get it, can’t be around him when he does it either. Makes my jitters worse.”

“Christ, you don’t look nervous at all. Good poker face. Your sound check was really incredible though. James performs like Joe Strummer, it’s funny. You’re good, really fit the part of Paul, huh?” there was an unspoken message behind fitting the part of Paul. The bassist of the Clash and the so called good looking one of the group (as stated by their drummer, Topper). You thought the same about Remus.

“You calling us Clash tributes? Also, he humps less than Joe.” You laughed. Full force laughter left your lungs as you keeled over in genuine disbelief. Snickering, Remus looked down at you, a little scared you’d collapse on the floor and knock yourself out. You went to speak, but the words were drowned out in laughter. “That tickled you, dinnit?” he mumbled, dropping his cigarette and crushing it below his foot. The shout of ‘Five minutes till you’re on!’ snapped you out of your laughter. Grinning up at Remus, you tilted your head.

“Break a leg!”

“It’s not the theatre.”

“Oh, good luck.”

“Thank you.” he replied, smirking down at you. He pushed the final piece of his chocolate bar into your hand before walking inside for the ‘team talk’. Time seemed to move at the speed of light whenever the lanky man was around. You found yourself completely lost in everything about him. Seriously, you couldn’t believe how long Sirius had deprived you of this perfect man.

Frank had told you whilst you were setting up that the band always had a talk before going on stage. The talk often consisted of: “James don’t cry and don’t fuck up” from Sirius and Remus; “Dodge bottles, whatever you do don’t get hit please you’ll look stupid.” as the general message to the whole band and “Jump around”, which was mostly directed to Peter and Remus. Frank had also warned you about the dangers that came from within the crowd. Police. Famously, punk music was viewed as being quite aggressive; it ended up being the roadies job to make sure fighting and dancing could be differentiated. Sirius hadn’t told you about that part whilst advertising the job. However, now wasn’t the time to take offence.

Erupting like a volcano, the crowd filled the rotting venue with noise. You watched the boys sprint on stage. All leather and tight fitting trousers.

James really did look like Joe Strummer when he performed and Remus was right about his comparison too. Sirius looked truly ecstatic whenever he performed and the energy brought about by the show pulled Peter from his shell. And Remus, oh, Remus. He was entirely perfect.

Catching yourself, you blinked and shook your head. You’d met this man three times, including the current interactions and here you were, fawning over him. Sure, it’d get you in a little bit of trouble, but what harm is a crush. Right? Not much harm compared to glass bottles and punk rockers. Oh, and a leak in the ceiling with wires messily taped to the floor.

Bang.

#remus lupin x reader #band au #marauders era #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders band au #remus lupin x y/n #please help #james & peter & remus & sirius

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mushrubes · 7 months

Text

Another?

Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Hosea Matthews by @/addynot }

Pairing : father! Hosea Matthews x child! reader, John Marston x matthews! reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : platonic / familial + fluff

Word count : 1.4k

Warnings : Swear words, familial, best friends in love, slightly ooc <3

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–

You stood still as Hosea cleaned the blood from your nose. He looked genuinely angry this time. You had a habit of getting into fights at school, but after this last one — your father seemed to be at his wit’s end. “I can’t believe you. I’ve tried so hard to get you an education and you go off and get into trouble.” He mumbled to himself, his hands gentle as he cleaned off your bruised face. He was extremely disappointed in you. "Pa, I'm sorry! It was deserved!" You defended, rolling your eyes. “I doubt that,” he argued. “You’ve told me before that every time you get into these things it’s ‘deserved’.” Hosea sighed. “Tell me. What happened this time?” he questioned. "O'driscolls. Two of them. Cornered me and they punched John after calling you and Uncle Dutch murderers so threw a punch at them and then the three of us started fighting." You explained.

Hosea rolls his eyes. “You know, you really shouldn’t go around throwing punches every time someone insults the gang.” He sighs again. “If I’m being honest… I’m almost scared to ask what happened to the O’Driscolls. How’s John?” he asked, the disappointment and concern evident. "They were threatening to get their guns out, and me punching them is too far? yeah, bullshit." You mumbled under your breath. "I think John's okay. I got him to go to Miss Grimshaw when we got back - he'll most likely have a black eye tomorrow." You sighed. “You don’t have to curse, kid. I understand the situation but what you failed to remember is that you’re only 16. You can’t go around throwing punches just because someone insults you.” Hosea sighs. “And as much as I don’t really like the O’Driscolls, I don’t think you should’ve punched them. That’s a good way to get yourself killed.” he shook his head.

Hosea sighs — a look of sadness and disappointment flashes through his face. “I know, love… I know. But, that doesn’t change anything; It’s still very dangerous to try and start fights with them. One day, you might end up picking the wrong fight…” He lets out another deep sigh. “You’re a smart kid. I just don’t want you to… do something stupid.” his voice softened, eyes full of love and concern for you, only wanting the best. "Whatever." you rolled your eyes, scoffing at him. “I’m serious, love. I don’t need to lose you the same way I lost your mother. I’m all you got right now, and it’s tough parenting a child in the gang. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.” Hosea paused, thinking. “Can I trust that you won’t get into another fight? Just while you’re at school?” he pleaded, wanting some sort of confirmation. "Yeah, sure." You huffed, getting up.

Hosea breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Just… please try to stay out of trouble. You’re the only child I’ll ever have, and I don’t want you to go the same way your mother did.” He looks at you, his face softening. “Just… just give me a hug, would you?” Your face softened and you gave in, hugging him tightly. You didn't even notice your tears staining his shirt. Hosea hugs you back tightly, holding his emotions back as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re… you’re the closest thing I’ll ever get to seeing your mother again.” He whispers quietly. “Don’t do that to me again, okay?” He holds you close, not wanting to let go. “I love you darling.” he caressed your head gently. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pa. I love you too." You whispered, wiping your tears. “I know, sweetheart. Just… just don’t do something like that again, okay?” Hosea holds you close for what feels like forever, not wanting to let go. Eventually — and reluctantly — he does. “Now go on, get washed up and get to bed. It’s late.” he said.

"Okay. Goodnight, Pa. I love you." you responded, kissing his cheek gently. “Love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight.” With that, Hosea shuts the door behind you — leaving you alone to get cleaned up and head to bed. You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting changed. You get changed into something comfortable, ready to go to bed. As you start brushing your teeth, you begin to remember everything that happened earlier as well as the promise you made to Hosea — not to get into any more fights. This was probably one of the last times he was ever going to be easy on you, you thought to yourself. He genuinely didn’t want you to get hurt. You smiled softly when you walked back into your shared bedroom, seeing John sitting on his bed "Hey loser." you called lovingly, making him look up in your direction. “Shut up, runt.” John replied back lovingly with a smile on his face.

“How did your talk with father go?” John had a cut on his eye, it was swollen and red — but it wasn’t too bad. He looked completely exhausted. "Usual lecturing. How's your face doing?" you asked, gently cupping his cheek, frowning at the cut. “Same as always, numb to the pain,” John chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. This was always your relationship with John. You teased and bickered a lot, but you both cared for each other deeply. He sighs. “I just… can’t believe you punched those bastards. What if they did get their guns out?” he pondered, concern evident in his voice and on his face. "Was worth it. They punched you and insulted my dad and Dutch." You shrugged, not even hesitating, meaning every single word. “Still not worth it.” John argued — but you could tell he wasn’t being serious, he was just worried about you. “Hosea was worried you were gonna get yourself killed. He was on the verge of tears talking to you.” John pauses for a second to think.

“Just… try not to do this again… okay, love?” he asked. "They're lucky I didn't kill them for hurting you." You commented, sitting next to him on his bed. “I know… but they weren’t worth the effort,” John chuckled weakly. “Now, come here.” He motioned for you to cuddle up with him on his bed. “I’m too tired to keep arguing.” he chuckled. You smiled softly, cuddling up to him, head on his chest. John’s body was warm. It always felt safe and cosy whenever you cuddled up to him like this — his large frame was comfortable to rest against. He wraps his arm around you, holding you close as he kisses your forehead. He was so big and handsome, and it made you feel safe in his arms. "Hey John?" you called quietly, turning the light out so it was dark. “Yeah, love?” He looked down at you. You could see his eyelids were slightly heavy — he was half asleep. “What’s up?” He asked softly. "Y'know I'd do anything for you, right?" you whispered, nuzzling into him.

John smiles at you, feeling slightly amused by your words. “I have no doubt,” he chuckled. “What’s your point?” He pulled you closer to him, feeling completely comfortable with you by his side. "I love you. I know we're teenagers but…" You trailed off, a lovesick smile on your face. John looks at you, his dark eyes filled with love for you. “I love you too, darlin',” he whispers back — his soft voice echoing softly through the room. “I know we’re just teenagers… but I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you in it.” He pulls you even closer to him, his hand brushing through your hair. “We’re gonna get through this… okay? I promise.” he assured, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "me and you forever?" you questioned, intertwining your hands. “Me and you forever, my love. No matter what that means or where that takes us.” His words were sweet, he meant every one of them. John had done so much for you, he was so much more than your best friend — he was the person who you trusted and loved more than anyone in this world. He was, truly, your soulmate.

Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

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thegettingbyp2 · 6 months

Note

Hiii! So glad ur writing for Aaron again. I really love Joshua Bassett's song "Different" and honestly I think Aaron would like it too. Could you base something off the lyrics please?

There's a lyric that goes

"I'm back in your arms but everything's changed, now we've been to hell and back again"

and i think that would be really good? Idk if you'd interpret it as smut but whatever you wanna do with it! And I really dig how you made your own mini universe thing with never meet your heros so like I think it would be cute for this. (Again all up to u I'm not the most creative LOLOL)

Hell and Back

A/N: I don't know this song but I've tried my best so I hope you enjoy!

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Donate £1 to my Book Fund

You knew that being so far away from Aaron was going to be hard; but you never thought that it was going to be this hard. You were coming up to your two-year anniversary and you hadn’t physically seen him in 7 months. With the both of you working on Broadway or in the West End, it was hard for you both to get time off to see each other so your relationship was currently limited to phone calls and facetimes whenever you got the chance and it was killing you.

The long-distance was proving hard for both of you, with arguments springing up about the smallest things and, you would never tell Aaron this, but most nights, you ended up crying yourself to sleep, fearing that the two of you were drifting apart too much. However, tonight, even though you weren’t arguing per se, you were feeling defeated.

‘I think that’s too long! We’ve already gone 7 months without seeing each other, and now you want to go for another 3?! Aaron that’s going to be almost a year since we saw each other and I don’t know if I can do that!’

‘I know, baby, but I don’t think we have any other choice. That’s the closest time I can get off and you’ve just started rehearsals for Wicked and there’s no way you can miss that,’ Aaron replied as you sat on your sofa, propping your phone against a couple of books that were sitting on your coffee table so you could still see Aaron on your screen.

‘Do you really think we can do this though?’ you asked, sighing heavily when you realised that he was making a good point. ‘Because I’m not sure that we can keep going on the odd ten-minute facetime whenever we both happen to be free and with the time difference.’ Your voice broke at the end of the sentence as you felt tears pool in your eyes and you were quick to look down at your hands, not wanting Aaron to see.

It was breaking your heart, having to talk and think like this, you loved Aaron with your whole heart and you really didn’t want to break up with him, but you could feel yourself reaching your breaking point and you knew that you wouldn’t survive it if you let it break on its own.

‘(Y/N), what are you trying to say?’ Aaron asked cautiously, worry filling his face.

‘I’m saying that I don’t think we can go another three months like this, and we’d be stupid to try,’ you began, looking back at your screen, tears dripping freely down your face. ‘If we keep this up, it’s just going to hurt us both more at the end.’

‘Yes, we can. Baby, it’s only three months and then I can come over there and - ’

‘Aaron, come on,’ you interrupted, ‘every time we talk at the moment we fight and then act as if nothing happened and we can’t carry on like that.’

‘Don’t do this,’ Aaron whispered brokenly, tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

‘I love you so much. That’s why I have to do this, if I don’t, we’ll end up hating each other and I never want that to happen. I’m going to go and I think it’ll be best if we don’t talk for a while, okay?’

‘No, (Y/N), just listen, please,’ his voice cut out abruptly as you ended the call, knowing that if you stayed on the phone any longer, you’d let him talk you out of it. Now sitting in the suddenly silent room, you let everything that had just happened catch up to you and before you knew it, you were laying on your sofa, sobbing.

---

It had been a week since you’d broken up with Aaron and you hadn’t brought yourself to leave your house once. You hurt, you physically hurt. You’d always thought that Aaron was the one; that you’d get married and have kids, and you couldn’t wait for that. So, to have that swept out from under you? You felt like your world was crashing down around you.

When you heard a knock at your door, you couldn’t help but be relieved when you thought about how you managed to shower and wash your hair today. Expecting it to be your new director, you were quick to answer the door, but you stilled when you saw Aaron standing in front of you.

He looked terrible. He looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept for the past week. Upon seeing him, your eyes filled with tears and you felt your knees threaten to give out from underneath you. Quickly, Aaron crossed the threshold and gathered you into his arms, propping you up against his body as he gently closed the door. You let your tears fall down your face, neither of you saying a word as Aaron lowered you to sit on the bottom step of your stairs. Crouching down in front of you, he guided your head up until you were looking at him, brushing your tears away as fast as they were falling, not bothering to wipe his own.

‘What are you doing here?’ you voice was shaky. ‘I thought I said - ’

‘You really think I was going to let you leave it at that?’ he asked, chuckling softly through his tears. ‘I hopped on the first flight I could, so I could make this right.’

‘There’s nothing to make right, Aaron,’ you replied, exhausted with having the same conversation over and over again. ‘It’s going to be exactly the same when you go back to New York and - ’

‘I’m not going back to New York.’

His words brought everything to a standstill. Your face must have shown your confusion as you tried to process what he’d just said because he took both of your hands in his and sat cross-legged in front of you.

‘I’m moving here. Obviously, I’ll have to go back to New York to sort my things out but then I’m moving here. Permanently. When I got on the plane to come here, all I was thinking was that I couldn’t lose you. Nothing was worth more to me than you and I’m not prepared to give you up before I at least tried to fight for us.’ When you didn’t respond, he carried on. ‘I haven’t found a place yet, but I can stay in a hotel until I do and I’m going to spend every single second proving to you that this can work.’

There was something about his words, the determination in his voice that showed you just how much he meant it and you felt hope fill your chest.

‘You’re staying here.’

‘Yeah, baby,’ he said softly, smiling gently at you. ‘I’ll find a place and then - ’

‘No, you’re staying here. You’re going to move in here. With me.’

You watched as he breathed a sigh of relief and a smile flooded his features. All of a sudden, you were being pulled off of the step and into his lap. You were quick to wrap your arms and legs around him like you were a koala as you buried your head in his neck. One of his arms wrapped around you as the other cupped the back of your head, holding you against him as he pressed kisses to the side of your head.

You don’t know how long you were sitting there, just holding onto each other, but the lyrics to one of your favourite songs popped into your head and you couldn’t help but smile when you thought of how fitting it was:

I’m back in your arms but everything’s changed, now we’ve been to hell and back again.

#aaron tveit #aaron tveit imagine #aaron tveit x reader

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Text

harrington takes a shot - steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve is the most nervous for your date, and you’re in desperate need of a distraction.

warnings: mentions of shitty parents, steve harrington is a Sweet Boy™️, p-in-v (BUT THERE’S A CONDOM WHO AM I), mentions of horror movies, that’s about it I think???

a/n:ok I cranked this out in like an hour, unedited, mistakes are my own, but enjoy some sweet little steve!!!

🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

Steve is nervous.

It’s a new feeling. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’s been on loads of dates, asked out half the female population of Hawkins according to Robin, but this is a new feeling. The butterflies are semi-familiar — he hasn’t felt those since Nancy — but the nervousness, the sweep of anxiety that zips through him whenever he sees you, that’s new.

“It means you like her, dingus,” Robin is quick to tell him, rolling her eyes while she fixes her makeup in the passenger seat of his car. “You wouldn’t be so worried if you didn’t care.”

He can’t argue with that logic. “Huh. Well, in all fairness, this is partially your fault, you know.”

“What?” Robin squeaks, jumping on the defence. “How on earth is this my fault?”

“You’re the one who neglected to tell me that your cousin was not only drop-dead gorgeous, but also the coolest girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

She just starts laughing. “She’s my cousin, Harrington, you’ll have to forgive me for not drooling over. This isn’t Kentucky.”

“Right, but that doesn’t stop you from telling me, your desperately lonely best friend and closest confidante, about any eligible ladies you may have stashed away.”

“If you say the words eligible ladies to me ever again, I’m disowning you.”

“Sorry.”

He drops Robin off at Vickie’s, kills a few hours with Henderson before his shift at Family Video. He’s still nervous, too much energy stuck in his body, toes tapping and knees bouncing for all eight hours. Three o’clock on the dot, the phone rings, and Steve breezes out his usual thank you for calling Family Video, what film are you after? before nearly choking on his breath when he hears your voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Hey Steve, it’s me,” you say, and he can practically hear the way you’re chewing your lip. You’d done it the first time you’d met, and the entire five minutes it took him to get the question out and ask you to hang out with him, even after spending a full day talking to you. It was endearing as hell. “Just checking if we’re still on for tonight?”

“What? Me? Oh, yes, oh my god, yes, of course we are,” he sputters, and smacks himself in the forehead. “Shit. Yes, is what I meant to say. Yes, we are still on. Pick you up at seven?”

“Seven’s perfect,” you reply, and he can’t stop himself from jolting with happiness. Then the bell above the door announces a customer and he nearly groans aloud. Is his shift over yet?

“Great. I gotta go. People need movies and whatever. See you at seven!”

He slams the phone down a little too forcefully, realizing after a beat that he didn’t wait long enough for you to reply, your farewell lost to the dial tone, and groans audibly this time, turning the heads of the group of tweens browsing the romantic comedies.

By some stroke of luck, the rest of his shift goes shockingly quick, and before he knows it, Keith is showing up to take over for the night. Grabbing his own stack of rentals, Steve’s out the door in a flash, vest balled up and tossed in the backseat, engine revved and a hand pushed through his hair before he peels out of the lot.

You just moved to Hawkins — why your family would want to leave New York for Indiana he doesn’t know, but he’s quietly happy that you did — and you live on the other side of town, a few streets over from Robin. He’s surprised to see you sitting out front, bundled in your jean jacket and perched on the porch. You get up when he rolls to a stop at the curb, jogging down the steps and the path that leads to the house. As you approach, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your cheeks.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks as you yank the door open, flinching slightly as it slams shut.

“Fine!” you say, your voice artificially bright. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replies, and starts to pull away, seeing the front door of your house open just as he hits the gas. “You sure you’re okay?”

There’s a long pause, a hiccup that makes his chest hurt, and a quiet: “No.”

“Parents?” he asks, not wanting to pry to much. He glances over and sees your nod, and offers his right hand, reaching over the gearshift towards you. “I know the feeling.”

Your fingers thread through his, knuckles thinner than his own, slotting nicely against his palm. It’s satisfying in the best way, and he squeezes your hand.

“I got a bunch of movies from work,” he tells you, “and I ordered a pizza on my way out that should be there shortly after we do. We can eat and hang out and you can forget all about it for a while, yeah?”

You pull his arm into your lap, wrapping your own around it like a vine, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He kills the engine as he pulls into the driveway, and you make to get out, but he stops you, sprinting around the car to open your door. You give him a watery laugh as he offers you a hand, pulling you out of the seat and closing the door behind you.

Twenty minutes later, the pizza has been delivered, the first movie is playing, and you’re curled up on the couch. You wasted no time slipping yourself beneath Steve’s arm, snuggled close to him, and he’s trying very hard to ignore the butterflies rioting in his stomach. You’re just so pretty. He hasn’t asked anything more about the state of you when he picked you up, but it’s a familiar scene to Steve.

Robin had let it slip that part of the reason for your move from New York to Hawkins was because your dad had lost his job, so they had sold the house you’d grown up in and downsized to Indiana. She’d also mentioned that it had put a…strain on your parents’ relationship. It was a song that Steve knew all too well.

He was surprised at your movie pick. He’d grabbed a variety from work, and you’d frowned when you saw most of the options were slashers or horror, admitting they weren’t your favourite genre. “Tis the season,” he joked, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flared red. “I can find something else, if you want, or we could go back to the store and—”

“This one,” you’d declared, and pointed to Friday the 13th.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Now, forty minutes into the movie, he can see why you said slashers weren’t your favourite. You’re terrified, it’s easy to see, and Steve’s cursing himself internally. Why didn’t he just ask you what you wanted to rent?

But…if he’s being honest, it has it’s perks.

You’re practically in his lap, for one, knees dragged up to your chest, your torso turned against his, hand curled in the front of his t-shirt like it’s a lifeline. He’s got one arm around you, his hand tucked against your ribs, nose buried in your hair, and goddamn you smell amazing.

And the noises. The shrieks and screams coming from the tv have drowned them out some, but it’s definitely not enough to distract him completely. You let out tiny squeaks and whines, at one point flat out moaning and hiding your face in his chest.

“How are you not scared of this?” you ask him at one point, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he’s much too distracted by you with your noises and your perfect scent and you’re just so pretty.

“We can turn it off,” he says by way of answer, swallowing hard, trying to will away the twitching in his jeans, “if you want.”

“Or you could distract me,” are the next words out of your mouth, and there’s no stopping the twitch now. It’s not a twitch so much as a full on rush of blood.

“Oh.”

“Is that a no?” you ask sweetly, turning your face up to his, and Steve’s jaw nearly drops.

He reaches up, takes your face in his hand, chin resting between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his digits spanning your jaw. Your warm breath fans his face and his eyes skirt over yours as he leans in, slowly, slowly, slowly.

You surge forward at the last second, capturing his lips with yours, a tiny noise falling out of you as it happens. Steve nearly jumps, instantly caught up in the taste of your mouth, the way your lips are so fucking soft, the way your hand fists his shirt tighter.

He’s so hard he feels lightheaded, and it only gets worse when you adjust yourself, swinging a leg over his hips and settling into his lap. If you can feel it nudge against your thigh, you don’t say anything, busying yourself with your hands in his hair while his find homes on your hips.

“You’ve got really great hair,” you mumble into his mouth, pushing your knuckles through his strands. It feels so good, and he nearly tips his head back, but refuses to stop kissing you. He’s drunk, he’s addicted, he’s hooked, and he can’t stop. You grind your hips into his and your mouth drops open, his name breathed back into his lungs. “Shit, Steve…Steve?”

“Tell me,” he says, his voice dropping low, gravelly even to his own ears.

“Take me upstairs?” you ask, kissing him slowly, hands tugging light on his hair. “Please?”

He doesn’t say a word as he leads you up his room. The movie is turned off, the front door locked, and he threads his fingers through yours, tugging you behind him as he ascends the stairs. You’re chewing your lip the whole way, only stopping when he stops at the top of the staircase, pausing to pull you close and kiss you harder than he had on the couch. “Are you sure?” he asks, something in those brown eyes making your heart ache. “We don’t have to, is all I mean. I want to, don’t get me wrong, but I only want to if you want to, y’know? I just mean—”

You quiet him with another kiss. “I want to, Steve. I really do.”

The little half-smile he gives you makes your heart pick up in your chest, and he leads you down the darkened hallway.

His room is what you expect it to be, posters on the walls and the bed unmade, laundry spilling out of the basket and a stack of books on the desk. The thick scent of his cologne permeates the room, and you inhale deeply, grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt as he closes the door, leaning up on your toes to kiss him once more.

He’s careful as he lays you out on the bed, careful as he pulls your clothes off. It’s gentle and slow, kisses littered everywhere his mouth can reach. And all the while, he’s watching you, eyes raking over every inch of your body.

“Fucking pretty.”

Once you’re fully nude on the mattress, he pushes your legs apart gently, mouths his way from your knee to the dip where your thigh meets your hip. He blows a cool breath over your core that has your back arching, sheets twisting in your grip, and when his tongue touches you, you sing his name like a prayer, diving a hand back into his stupidly soft hair.

It’s not long before you’re pulling at him, hauling him up and over you, flicking the button on his jeans and pushing them down his hips. He pauses for a moment, fishing a condom out of the nightstand, and you take a moment, returning the favour, eyes travelling the length of his body.

He makes an almost strangled noise when he pushes inside you, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as your nails rake his back. You hold him close, closer than you’ve held someone in a long time, your body reacting to his, desperate for more. “Pretty,” he breathes out as he starts to move, face tucked against your collar, hot breath fanning your chest. “So fucking pretty. Feel so fucking good.”

Neither of you last long. Pleasure comes to you high and tight, shooting down your spine when he pushes a leg towards your chest, nearly bending you in half, driving against every nerve inside you. He falls quickly after you do, breath stuttered in your ear, your name drawn out in the best way.

You lie there a long time after, after he’s cleaned himself up, after you’ve snuck off to pee. You lie on your stomach, Steve on his back, his pillow bunched beneath your head. He drags his knuckles up and down your spine, eyes glued to the movement of his hand. It’s soothing, aimless patterns that make your eyes threaten to droop.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your words the first in a while, Steve’s face angling to look at you. “For not asking earlier. When I was…” You sigh, your shoulders moving with the force of it, and Steve flips onto his side, changing hands, his whole palm now skimming up and down your back. “Parents suck sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” he says, echoing his earlier words, his eyes big and honest. “Happy to distract you, whenever you need.”

You stare at him for a long moment. “You’re not what I expected, Steve Harrington.”

He quick a brow, cheeks flushing. “Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you nod. “I want to know more.”

“About?”

“You.”

He grins, and leans over to kiss you lightly, palm settling into the small of your back. “I want to know more about you too.”

—————

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steve harrington tags: @steadyasthe-flowers @trickstersp8 @nightthou @bluestuesday @billyhargrovesprincess @detectivecarisi-1 @kbakery @tsismymother @dnxgma @whistle1whistle @sugarloafi @alexxavicry @s1errasposts @lucyysthings @lizzziekatt @princesseddie

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my fics #harrington takes a shot #kay’s autumn adventures

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canyouhearthelight · 1 year

Text

The Miys, Ch. 231

Everyone, please thank @baelpenrose for reminding me it was Tuesday and that I needed to post a chapter. I had a few days off, and that made me think today was Monday, as it does sometimes.

Before I do reader shout-outs, I want to mention: I will update the master list on Thursday. It’s almost bed time here, so that’s going to be a bit delayed.

Reader shout outs! @dinension has been making their way through, @van-ina is making some serious progress... give me your feedback in my comments, asks, or DMs! I love it! @mimicofaperson, @themightywookie, and @nube-de-lluvia, i hope you are still enjoying!

“All hands, this is Xiomara Kalloe speaking. Prepare for armed and dangerous boarding parties. Further instructions will come from… Sophia Reid, Parvati Fletcher, and Charly Harper.”

Alice’s head snapped around. “What about Hannah? Did something - “

Xiomara held up one palm with regal calm, despite her fingers trembling. “We need Hannah coordinating parties and supplies to the life pods.”

Alice’s eyes darted toward me, and I nodded. Hannah was great with people, but had definitely missed her calling coordinating cargo on long supply drives.

“Ivan, the cafeteria six meters ahead on your left is secure,” I snapped as calmly as possible.

“No, Jokul,” I heard Parvati argue. “I need you and a blunt or sharp object near that last hit to starboard. It’s weak and Huynh has it mapped as potential boarding. Sending HUD map location. Yes, I know they’re cute, but they’re more likely to survive this than we are. Any that ride along with you are fine, but stop pausing for them!”

“ - oil sprayers are in Engineering Five, Level Twenty,” Charly shouted, sitting up and hooking her heels together around a bench so she could use both hands. “Everyone in secure location fourteen, you’re closest. Grab two each, three if you can carry that many, and hand them out to anyone who can hold one.”

“Simon!” I shouted as I hit my datapad again. “Get the arrows. Grab as many as you can think you’ll need that are sharp, and then as many as you can carry of the Charly Special. Find people with long arms, and hand out what you can.”

“Location Thirteen, whatever Fourteen doesn’t grab, distribute by the food stalls and stay put. It’s flammable as hell.”

Parvati took a deep breath and forced a smile. “This message is for anyone designated for secure locations one through six and thirty through thirty seven. Please distribute as evenly as possible in locations thirteen through twenty three. Combat medic cleared personnel are reassigned to even-numbered locations.”

“Sophia,” A deep voice rumbled in my ear. “This is.. Coffey. Nixe is demanding to be allowed in combat.”

I glanced at Charly, not missing that I had gotten the call and she had not. “Both of you are approved combatants, so I can’t stop either of you. But remember: half of Derek, Sam, and Teeth’s family are confined to Level One, the other half are going to be in combat. Who sits shit out?”

His laugh was the last thing I was expecting. “Phee. Derek and Sam survived together before any of us knew them, and if they make it out of this, they’ll be fine.”

“But what if both - “

“Ix’al and Brol aren’t just going to take in Teeth,” he reprimanded. “The Ark took them in, the S’crirs will return the favor, over and over.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, even though I knew he couldn’t see my face. “I get that. I just… I worry.”

“Then we must live,” he assured before ending the communication.

It took a total of three seconds before I called out. “Charly! Coffey just contacted me.”

She shook her head furiously. “Tell me when we’re out of this.”

“Char - “

“When. We. Are. Out.”

I blinked a couple times before slowly mouthing “okay then”. For all that Coffey had contacted me out of fear of reprimand, clearly they were both of the same mindset. “Then we must live,” he had said. “When,” had been her statement. Neither had even taken ‘if’ into consideration.

Well, okay then, I decided. When. Signalling Ivan again, I started speaking as soon as it connected. “How hot is your forge?”

“Not very?”

I didn’t even hide my disappointment. “As safely as you can manage while getting it done, open the doors. Grab something heavy, and start finding people to grab other heavy things.”

Noah interjected. “Sophia Reid, humanitarian voyages do not allow armed persons - “

“Ivan didn’t make weapons,” I cut off. “Ivan was in the process of making interior needs. Torches, holders, drinking vessels, cooking equipment…”

“Terran media archives indicate that cooking equipment is frequently used as armament.”

I gestured in irritation. “I refuse to be held accountable or delayed by the fact that people forget about cooking pans and cooking knives. Probably the second human tool ever was a sharp rock to cut things, and the other runner is a flat rock to cook things on.”

“I am terribly concerned what the first tool humans used would have been.”

“A rock,” I ground out in irritation as I started checking for anyone who hadn’t answered my or Parvati’s call already. “A blunt one, to beat things with. You said it yourself - we’re Deathworlders. The only unarmed one is a dead one.”

“Then treaties are satisfied,” Noah confirmed in approval. “This is still a humanitarian vessel.”

Just as that was said, the Ark rocked hard to one side, a new bruise in the waistband I was rapidly collecting. “We’re under fire! Why does that even matter now!?”

Xiomara started to answer, exposing that all of Level One had been tapped into my conversation, before Noah buzzed proudly, drowning anyone out.

“If this is a humanitarian vessel, the Eko-mari cannot fire upon us directly and it restricts their movements.”

Arthur grunted, rubbing a sore spot on his head with one hand. “Yeah? Tell that to…” For once. One time, in our entire acquaintance, he trailed off. “Well, fuck me sideways…”

“You aren’t that pretty,” Evan growled from the pilots’ seats. “But I’ll make sure to tell Worthington you asked. Brace for impact!”

This time, I managed to avoid another injury simply by virtue of the fact that the ship tossed to the same side I was leaning against. “Why the fuck don’t these tables have harnesses underneath!?”

“Fuck. You.” Tyche growled at me while she sat herself up, crossed her legs, and adjusted the leggings-slash-harness she was tied in.

“Don’t be mad,” Maverick instructed before grabbing one of her ankles and yanking her flat. “Almost done…” He repositioned blindly, grabbing her knee on the same leg and yanking.

“OW! Mother fu-”

“You should be jammed against the deck at your hips,” he panted. “That’s as far as I could pull before you stopped, so it should keep you pretty tight.”

I twisted my head around to see, and sure enough, she was blinking and trying to bounce herself. A quick test of arms showed that she could easily brace her shoulders without locking her elbows. “Huh.”

“Just don’t kick the screens,” Evan directed sternly before seeming to think and pinning Tyche’s ankles loosely with one calf. “There. I’ll help hold your feet down.”

“If we’re done flirting…” Arthur droned, “Trajectory needs to change to avoid impact to planet, sending coordinates.”

Flat on her back, Tyche stared up at the ceiling and started rattling off numbers. This time, instead of slamming to one side, the Ark listed calmly.

“All hands,” Maverick announced. “Reminder that rotational gravity ends in fifteen minutes. Repeat, rotational gravity ending in fifteen minutes.” A second later. “Conor, where are we at with the engines and being ready for evasive maneuvers?”

“What the fuck did you call those!?” Huynh shouted. “The ship can’t take a lot more of whatever it was!”

“Getting shot,” came the clipped response. As aware as I was that Maverick was incredibly blunt, this was the first time I had seen him in an actual combat situation, and a lot of things suddenly started making sense. “Conor.”

“Sub luminal engines are ready,” came the response. “Avoid moving drastically on your positive Y as much as you can. We need to evacuate Levels Fifteen through Twenty Two before we can do that.”

“Negative, Engines,” Maverick clipped. “We already evacuated fourteen levels, majority of which are currently in that area.”

“Then fly smart.”

“All I know how to do. Be safe.” Maverick nodded to Evan.

Three taps later, she was on ship wide communication. “People of the Ark. You have ten minutes, maximum, to secure yourselves for maneuvers. Gravity is still standing down, but if there is a need to move sooner, no warning will be given past ten minutes from my mark.” One nod. Two. Five. “Mark!”

A soreness radiating from my left hip jolted me into my body, and I realized no one on Level One was secured other than the pilots.

Fuck.

“Noah, what are we supposed to do!?”

“There is insufficient time to provide restraints…”

“He means hold the fuck on,” Xiomara shouted, gesturing to herself as she wrapped her legs around the pillar of a seat and hooked her arm over the table leg.

There was a scramble as anyone with layers started shedding them and trying to secure themselves to supports, taking Tyche’s previous example. After a couple of minutes trying various positions, Arthur took Charly’s example and simply sat on the bench beside the table he had been under, hooking his legs around it. “Ribs over head,” he shrugged when I quirked an eyebrow.

“Patching through the S’crirs primary vessel,” Odvub advised.

“Ark, the nuisances are targeting us more precisely. How quickly can you get out of combat?”

“They have our destination coordinates,” Xiomara reminded sharply. “And apparently the Ark is a century overdue for an oil change.”

Noah sounded mortally offended. “There is no oil - Oh.” They were catching up with our thoughts faster, that was a good sign.

“Can you get your ships between us and them? They won’t be able to shoot as freely then, at least,” Arthur suggested.

“They will also have very little need to do so.” Ix’al sounded less reproachful than disappointed when she corrected him. “We cannot even hide our smallest ship at that range.”

“Dammit.”

Maverick jumped in. “Keep firing at them. It will give us excuses to maneuver more dangerously.”

“No!” Tyche, Arthur, and Huynh shouted at the same time. Arthur rushed to explain. “The Eko-mari are gathering around the most damaged points on the Ark. Any stray fire will breach the hull.”

Parvati, still crammed in with me, brought her databand close enough to her face that I couldn’t even see her mouth when she spoke. “All personnel located on decks - Levels - Fifteen through Twenty-Two, bivouac suits are now mandatory. Repeat: all personnel located on Levels Fifteen through Twenty-Two, bivouac suits are mandatory. Boarding is likely, breach is imminent, and you will be exposed to vacuum.” She muted herself before placing her hands over my ears. “CHARLY! Are the oil sprayers pressurized?”

“No, they use a spring plate!”

“Thank you!” Hands came down and she unmuted herself. “Anyone armed with a sprayer - keep it. They are mechanically pushed, not pressurized, so they’ll still work in vacuum. Better part, they won’t explode in your hands. The oil is still corrosive as hell.”

Corrosive. “Noah! Odvub!” I hissed into my own wrist. “What will corrode the bivouac suits?”

“Anything that will corrode the suits would also be lethal to whoever wore it,” Noah responded without answering.

“Not what I asked.”

“Fluoroantimonic acid,” Odvub supplied. “A superacid which is prohibited from any humanitarian vessel by Galactic Law.”

“Unfortunately, that is what I asked, but still doesn’t help,” I sighed quietly while chaos rang in the background. It sounded like another one of the ships in the pirate fleet had been destroyed. Grunting briefly when I was slammed against the table again, I started wheezing. “What else can do it?”

“Dual application of a hypersaline solution and electrical current in excess of four thousand volts at a specific voltage,” Odvub added, as calmly as if I had asked for the weather.

And they thought humans were weird…

“Neither of those need oxygen,” I coughed, rubbing my newest sore spot. “Send it to me, please. And thank you.” Turning my head, I tried to shout and got a coughing attack for my efforts.

Yeah, that was definitely a fractured rib.

Clearing my throat, I applied pressure to the side in question and tried again. “Charly! If the Eko-mari board, we need to hit them with brine and a cattle prod. At the same time! Sending you the specs now.”

“Pickle fried Eko-mari, got it! What’s that going to do?”

I twisted my head at the specifications before sending them. “Denature the bivouac suits, I think. That’s what it sounds like.”

“So no assing about with the tasers!” Xiomara shouted. “Last thing we need is to expose ourselves to vacuum while fucking around.”

“Councilor Kalloe, at that amperage, the electricity alone is fatal to humans,” Noah attempted to correct her.

“Only across the heart,” Grey explained offhandedly. “Otherwise it will only leave severe burns and lead to potential amputation.”

“There’s a reason we clarify that we risk ‘life and limb’ for shit,” Huynh grunted as he updated his hot-spot map. “You can survive without several of those last ones.” To prove his point, he shook his left hand - which was notably missing two fingers, and which he had stubbornly refused to have the fingers grown back on.

“I am raising my appendages rapidly in frustration.” Noah buzzed harshly. “Why must humans persist in activities that shorten their lifespans or cause permanent damage?”

No one answered. No one felt the need to, apparently, because as I scanned Level One, anyone who was reacting had simply started gesturing to themselves or blinking sarcastically at the ceiling.

“BRACE - !”

Maverick couldn’t even finish before we were hit. This hadn’t been a stray shot or evasive maneuver - my legs shot painfully out from under me, and the pants holding me to the bench forced the air out my lungs even as I could hear threads popping. Charly and Arthur were both thrown from their perches and made it a good couple of feet before they hit the decking and went rolling.

“Damage report!” Evan demanded, grunting. I twisted to see the pilot area, only to see her pulling with both legs to keep Tyche in place, one hand scrambling to grab anything that would give her purchase to untangle them both.

“Injuries to me, single channel,” Grey insisted. “Don’t clog up the comms with medical reports.”

“You were hit from the other side,” Brol’s voice reported. “Not where you had been hit recently, same vicinity.”

“Level Eighteen has vented from the inside!” Conor’s shout broke through. “That hit pushed her too hard!”

“Levels Seventeen through Nineteen have been sealed,” Noah confirmed. “Recommend all human personnel to shelter and secure entries so the Ark can provide oxygen.”

Arthur relayed the order and paused before shaking his head. “All able-bodied humans on those levels have refused to stand down. How long will the suits last?”

“If sealed properly and in vacuum, they will recycle water and oxygen nearly indefinitely.”

“That gives us fourteen days minimum, thirty days at the outside,” Antoine advised, hands flying as he tried to triage injuries that only he could see. “We only have four breached suits in that area, pressure currently applied to minimize loss of atmosphere.”

“Get those four, plus any injured, to a secure shelter. And a medic if there isn’t already one in there,” Xiomara demanded. “All in one, so we have others to use if anyone else needs one.”

Arthur started relaying the order, and seemed to get everyone to play along nicely at first. Suddenly, he started shouting. “Kimberly Mitchell, you get your ass in that shelter, now!” Pause. “I don’t care, you can thump me later. Your suit reports a broken leg and a leak at the knee.” Pause again. “Gods DAMMIT, I can’t throw my headset, but if I could, I would. Don’t make me send Miys down there to forcibly carry you, they don’t deserve that!”

Parvati cut a glance to me. “Who is he talking to like that?”

I shrugged and kept watching.

“G - Kimberly. Miz Mitchell. I am begging you, please. I am trying to respect your wishes, but right now, I need to be able to tell everyone - Yes. I know. I know it’s hard. But we need you more than you need to do that.” Pause. “Thank you. Thank you. I’m tracking for confirmation.”

“Arthur, who - “

“SHHHHH!” he hissed, holding up a finger. “Two, one… sealing Shelter Eighteen.” Both his hands fell to the decking he was still laying on before he exhaled. “Grandma Kim confirmed alive and secure.”

<<Prev Masterlist Next>>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #hfy #haw #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #my writing

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bitchinbarzal · 2 years

Note

bug is mad at Quinn and decides to hide from him, he can’t find her so Quinn calls his family to help

She’d been missing for twenty minutes and he was freaking out

They’d had a minor disagreement and Bug had stormed off, allowing her a couple minutes to cool down before he went to find her.

Issue was - he couldn’t find her.

He’d been searching for so long, stressed and worried.

“Bug, come on this isn’t funny now!”

“Charlotte Ellen, come out right now!”

He was thinking of all the places she could have gone. She was three and was able to open things now.

The front door.

He ran outside screaming for her like a mad man. It was currently the off season so you were staying at the lake house which was not somewhere she knew well unlike Vancouver.

She was taught from the moment she could understand that if she were to ever get lost she told an adult her full name, her parents names and even those closest to hers names. Someone would help her.

But there wasn’t water in the equation in Vancouver, she could be in serious trouble.

He wanted to call you but he couldn’t, you were currently on a flight with bear from Vancouver as you had to go back for some important work stuff a couple days.

So he called the back up team.

His parents and brothers had rushed over having only been down the street to find him still frantically looking for her outside.

“How did you lose her?!”

“It- we- I just need to find her, ok?! Just help me find her!” He was distressed, bordering on tears. So everyone split up.

Luke opted to stay at the house in case she came back.

Jack and his dad had gone door to door to check with neighbours.

Quinn and his mom had gone to check the boats and shoreline.

While walking along looking for her his mom asked “Why did she run off in the first place?”

“She was arguing with me over, I can’t even remember what but she told me she hated me and stormed off. Mom I’ve got to find her, I just- she has to be ok”

Ellen placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing manner “we’ll find her”

You’d be landing soon enough, that on top of not having your daughter and having to explain why was just brining Quinn’s anxiety into overdrive.

Back at the house Luke was sitting on the back porch, looking out into the water just hoping he’d see her little head pop up on the sand bank.

“Lukey, what doing?” The teenagers head swivels around to see his niece sat next to him, hair all messy and rubbing her tired eyes.

“Bug! Where have you been?!” He exclaimed, picking her up into his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder and she mumbled

“I fell sleep in the closet when I was hiding from daddy”

Immediately calling the family, he told them he had her.

When the phone rang Quinn answered immediately

“Have you found her?!”

“Yeah, yeah man she’s here I’ve got her”

He physically depressed, letting out a breath he had been holding in and speeding home.

Rushing through the house and into the yard where everyone else was he ran to pick up his daughter.

“Oh my goodness, you scared the life out of me! Don’t ever do that again!”

He pulled back to look her over - just to be sure she wasn’t injured.

“Not mad, daddy?” “No I’m so mad but I’m more scared right now so we’ll talk tomorrow ok?”

She nodded slightly “M’kay”

For the rest of the night Quinn wasn’t more than a couple feet from Bug. Eyes always on her.

When you’d returned that night you put Bear to bed before finding yours empty.

Making your way to Bug’s room you found both your husband and daughter. You watched them both asleep, his hand holding her tiny one.

“Q? Quinn, wake up babe” shaking his shoulders softly waiting for him to completely wake up.

“Huh? Oh you’re home” you chuckled

“Yeah babe I’m home, come to bed?”

He looked up between you and his sleeping daughter “I’m gonna stay here tonight”

“Everything ok?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, I just wanna be with our girl”

#bugs world

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googoobabajogwick · 1 year

Text

Hot Knife Chpt 5

description: the two of you pack and head out, only for you two to argue some more and receive bad news.

triggers: talks of sexual assault

word count: 4.2k

mini authors note: reader gets her own conflict, though i’m stealing some stuff from the actual forth movie this takes place like the week before the forth one starts. next chapter may be awhile as one chapter has become three extra so... also no more photo I hate it lol

<--------->

Hot Knife Chapter Five: Patience.

It was now morning and you and John had awoken quite early to get a head start on the day.

“This is your last chance, once we leave here you will be a target.” John said from the corner of your room, back in his suit.

You were packing your bag, hiding weapons and getting ready for a war. You shoved a first aid kit in the bag along with a ton of bullets and an extra change of clothes. It was like packing for a hunting trip and you didn't forget to shove a few protein bars in there, you had a feeling there would be times where food would not be available.

John walked up to you and pulled the marker out of his pocket. You were about to ask him what he was doing when he pricked his finger and gave his blood print. The marker was complete. He stared at it for a moment, closed it and handed it to you. You stared at him in shock.

“You can back out at any time.”

Your hand brushed against his as you grabbed it from him. Your face heated up and you pulled back, as if you had touched a hot stove. John watched you throw it on your bed before getting right back to your task. He didn’t miss your flustered expression as you wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Uh, thanks but I’ve made up my mind plus that's nothing but a bad memory for me. Now, what was I looking for… Oh yeah!” You ran over to your closest and dug through all the clothes and you pulled out a huge hunting knife. “Can’t forget her!”

You were still as cute as he remembered. He felt guilty couldn’t help but admire you as you did your thing. John couldn’t lie, he felt a huge weight off his shoulders knowing you were helping him. The amount of times he’d wake up to your gorgeous face dragging him out of a car or off the street somewhere while he was bleeding to death. You were the only one he trusted with his life because you had shown you would go to extreme lengths to protect him just like he would for you.

It helped that you were a Doctor as well. Although he would prefer not to get shot or even hurt, it was unavoidable. You gave him that extra bit of comfort. Even if you hated him, the medic in you wouldn’t let him die. He didn’t know anyone as useful and dependable than you even as he watched you stare fondly at a knife he assumed you wished to stab him with.

John couldn’t believe you still had that. He remembered you telling him that your father had gotten it for you as your first high quality hunting knife. As much as he traumatized you and led you down the path of murder and violence you loved that knife. Hunting was in your blood, your father made sure of it. It came in handy, your ability to track and sit patiently for hours.

Not that you preferred to do that, you liked being spontaneous and a little bit twisted. Chasing them like a predator and they were the prey. The two of you had only ever had one contract together that involved camping out in the woods and by the end of that trip he knew he’d never want to be on your bad side and caught in the forest with you.

God forbid if you had a rifle. He’d never seen such accuracy and precision. The hit that day had gone running off into the woods. John had thought they lost him after searching so long for the man but without a minute to spare you grabbed the hunting rifle from him and climbed into a tree. Within seconds he heard the gunfire and a triumphed laugh from you.

Two. Hundred. Fifty. Yards. Away. With the sun going down. You hopped out of the tree and swung your arms around him and cheered. As fucked up as it was he smirked at the memory. Always such a show off you were. He’d never felt closer to you than he did after that trip. It was like he’d seen a side of you that no one ever had before, and it was true. Nobody else would ever see that side of you but him.

You showed him how to skin a buck with that knife, while also giving him some unsolicited advice on how to skin a human as well. The woods would always be your home and John agreed that he probably would’ve done well living in that kind of solitary but, as he had to keep reminding himself, that was years ago. He’d missed his chance.

John was brought back to you using your fingers to snap in front of his face. Your knife was now where it’s always belonged, on your hip. Along with a pistol and multiple clips. The backpack was filled and on your back with a hunting rifle hanging from your shoulder. You never wore suits. The Director frowned upon it back in the days but you liked black combat pants, a large black tee with a bullet proof vest hidden underneath and a simple black belt. Oh and steel toe combat boots they came in handy if you had to stomp or break some bones.

This was just due to how you grew up. Being poor, fancy clothes were a no, hunting attire was all you ever wore. Though you gave up the camouflage as soon as you could you kept the same style and hated anything that was high class. Jardani had told you that you only needed to find the right suit to fall in love but you never believed him. The day you wore one of those suits would be the day you’d ask him to put a bullet in your skull!

They were uncomfortable to fight in and frankly you never understood it. It’s not even that you wanted to wear a dress, as that would be worse, they just seemed impractical. Yet John had made it this long. Perhaps they weren’t that unsuitable for the job. You grew up hating a lot of things thanks to your father and you never lost that but you can always admit when you're wrong… Sometimes at least.

“Hello, Earth to John Wick!” You waved your hand in front of his face, “Take a picture, it will last longer.”

“I wasn’t checking you out, it’s just-“ He was flustered this time and paused to find his words, “Been awhile since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Yeah well it’s been awhile since you’ve actually seen me. We should probably get going.” You snapped.

John just shut his mouth, it seemed like the smartest thing to do. The two of you made your way to your car outside. You explained to him that Algo, your daughters and the women who volunteered to help would be moving to a second location and setting up. No matter what, the actual facility of INM needed to stay hidden. The two of you would leave and you would contact them.

You went over everything, just one more time. You’d never prepared for something this big as it was unheard of. John Wick should be dead, in fact, he should’ve been executed on the spot the minute he shot D’Antonio. Yet here he was. Everything seemed so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. He grabbed your bag and threw it into the back seat of the car, shutting the door before meeting you at the trunk.

You were about to say something when you heard two pairs of feet running your way. As you were facing Jardani you couldn’t see what was coming up behind you. Your eyebrow couldn’t even raise in question as you were thrown forward into your ex’s arm’s as without a second thought he caught you. Then two pairs of arms wrapped around you and pulled you back up.

The fast pace of events left your head reeling meaning you had not even a second to acknowledge how warm he felt. Had it not been for the fact you birthed your girls and had every one of their sounds and touches memorized, you’d knock them on their asses. Instead you exited their hold in one flawless motion. You stared at them with wide eyes.

“Christ Darya! Kat!”

“You were gonna leave without saying bye!!” Kat yelled at you.

“It took one man to make you forget about your daughters, who are you even?” Darya rolled her eyes but you could tell she was joking.

“Hey! I was going to come back in and give a proper goodbye. I could never leave you two without a goodbye and an I love you!” You grabbed your daughters and started to pepper kisses on their faces.

Kat tried to push you away, protesting but Darya didn’t seem to mind that much. The longer haired girl gagged and you just laughed, calling her out. She was the one who came out yelling you didn’t say goodbye! Rya still held onto you and gnawed on her lip. She was always more clingy than her sister. You turned to her.

“I will be okay Darya. I will come back to you, my little flax. I’ll always come back to you. You too, my beautiful sunflower.” She hugged you tighter at the nickname as her sister nodded.

After a few more seconds she pulled away and allowed you to say goodbye to her sister. Kat was looking at her father and there was something in her eye you just couldn’t read. Though her father’s reciprocating gaze was intense she refused to look away. She pulled you into a bone crushing hug and continued to stare at her father.

“You better protect her and bring her back, or I will find you in the afterlife and make this seem like a dream.” She sneered and you laughed but scoffed.

“You think I need a man to protect me?”

“I promise you two I will. And I look forward to getting to know you two when this is all over.” John said as he nodded at his daughter.

You gave your daughters one last tight hug and then moved to get into your car. Right before you left, Algo ran out and handed both of you ear pieces and tracker phones that she modded so no one but her could track you two. The only contacts in the phone were hers, John’s phone and yours. You frowned that Tatyana and Darya weren’t in there but she promised they could speak to you through hers. All of you began to tear up.

John cleared his throat, apologizing before telling you that you needed to go. The Bowery King was waiting. You peeled away from your companions when Algo walked up to John and grabbed him by his tie. She stared right in his eyes and flicked him right in the nose. He winced and your girls started laughing.

“You’ve already heard it before but I’ll say it again. Anything and I mean anything happens to that woman, I will personally see it through that you are tortured and killed.” She growled at him.

“Damn A!” Kat cheered her on but you rolled your eyes.

“You guys are acting like I didn’t grow up with him! I can take care of myself.” You were starting to get a bit insulted even though they were just worried.

Algo gave him one last flick, this time in the forehead, and let him go. She grabbed your girls and walked them back inside. It was now just you and John. He rubbed the spot on his head where she flicked him the second time. That actually hurt. He knew he deserved it though. The chances of you coming out of this completely unscathed were very low but he would try his hardest to protect you.

The two of you got into the car which started the hour long drive to the city. You were driving and drumming your fingers to the song on the radio. The whole situation was awkward. Literally a day earlier the thought of sitting in a car with your ex would make you scoff. No way in hell but yet, here you were. The two of you not saying a word as you drove.

You knew John would suffer in silence; he'd never be the first to break the awkward tension, he’d rather just sit in it. He had a hard time finding the right words and right now he felt as if he was standing on a frozen river. That one wrong step, or words in this case would send him plummeting into the cold water. As always, it was you who cut the silence.

“So, this Marquis.. Do you know much about him?” You’d never heard of the man.

“Not much. He runs the French version of The Continental. He’s the main guy I have to kill.” John watched the trees you guys passed.

“Hmm. And this thing… This out Winston gave you, it’s a duel?”

“Something like that.”

You almost wanted to beat him with how dry his answers were. He was dragging you into a war and ‘something like that’ was all he could say? You shook your head and rolled your eyes causing him to turn and look at you. John could tell you were mad.

“What?”

“What? Are you kidding me? You’re dragging me into this mess and that’s all you say?” You yelled at him.

“I gave you an out.” Was all he said.

At that you slammed in the breaks, his hand coming out to steady himself on the dashboard. He glared at you. Thirty more minutes and you wouldn’t be trapped in this car together anymore. He couldn’t even question you as you began to shout at him. All he could think was how he wished you weren’t just stopped in the middle of the road. Someone could snipe him or jump you two.

This was completely different from how he was acting back at INM. Perhaps it was because he was outnumbered there but if that was the case, what a piece of shit. Did he seriously wait for you to be alone to act like a little boy? What you didn’t know was that his mind was already racing. Now that you were almost there it was real. So much was happening.

Seeing you, it was bringing back old feelings. They were always there but hidden deep away. The chance of you dying with him there to witness it was real and could happen at any second now. John wanted to break something. Why was he like this? Why did he act without thinking of the consequences? He would protect you but he had to distance himself, for now at least.

“Oh you fucking asshole! I should kick you out of this fucking car right now!” You were fuming, “I’m doing you a fucking favor, one you don’t deserve but I decided to do out of kindness of my heart. The heart which you ripped out and stomped on right in front of my face.”

John fought the urge to hide his face in his hands again. God you were frustrating. Only you could ever make him feel like a teenage boy again, only you could make him feel so defensive.

“You were the one to leave. Not me.” He shook his head in disbelief.

The conversation was bound to come up, he just hoped not now. There was too much on his mind. He’ll forever be thankful that you’re helping him even when he returned the marker. Honestly he didn’t know what he expected though this was very typical of you. His eyes moved back and forth as he kept looking around, searching for danger. You noticed and started driving again but you weren’t done.

“Honestly John fuck you. I meant nothing to you, you’ve made that very clear considering you got yourself excommunicato over a woman you knew for only a quarter of how long our relationship was.” It was a low blow, you knew it but you didn’t expect his reaction.

“Enough. I don’t want to hear you speak of her. Of all people in this situation she doesn’t deserve your immature attacks. You meant nothing to me? You gave me two days to decide if I wanted to completely change my life and you blew up my car.” John was fed up.

You felt guilt creep into your chest. He was right, you did try to make it quite clear you never wanted to hear from him. Also the low blows at his dead wife were childish, she didn’t do anything. Had you been completely over it and changed you’d apologize but you couldn’t.

“Yeah and now, even without a marker, I’m leaving my daughters to be potentially killed for absolutely fucking nothing. So your little insinuation that I didn’t care is worthless.”

“Our daughters.”

“They don’t even want anything to do with you.” You kept your eyes on the road although you could feel the tears well up in your eyes.

“And whose fault is that?”

Your breathing hitched as you gripped onto the wheel tighter. John turned to look out the window. The two of you drove the rest of the way in silence. You both were too stubborn to talk about anything else or be the first one to break the silence this time. Your hand reached out and you turned the radio up louder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You yelled and almost broke the radio changing the station when you realized it was your old guy’s song.

“Ho—ly fucking shit. Jonathan tell me, how did you convince the Mad Doctor to join us?” The King’s shock was faked but you chose to ignore it.

The relief you felt from not being stuck in a car with John was wiped away in an instant. Your arms wrapped around you. You felt self conscious. Maybe twenty years ago you would have loved the attention but not anymore. You moved away from John and this didn’t go unnoticed by The Bowery King. He let out a deep chuckle.

“Don’t tell me, relationship problems already?”

“Shut up. Thanks for ratting me out by the way.” It was immature but you didn’t care.

He just laughed again and continued on.. You tuned it out though to look around. So, this is where he had been training. There were weights, mats, punching posts and bags everywhere. Some with blood on it. John must've been training hard. Although there was so much equipment it felt so desolate. Had he really been here all alone all these months? It was hard for you to believe that he was healed.

Falling off a hotel roof and surviving was almost unheard of, but to be back and up, fighting hundreds of skilled assassins, it worried you. Mentally you hit yourself, who gives a fuck? Oh right, you did because if he died you'd be murdered for up and leaving the underground world and helping someone who was excommunicado. His life was your life once again; Twenty years ago you would've loved it. You grimaced until the King took you out of your thoughts.

“YN, The Marquis has a right hand man. His name is Hugo. Read up on him, you were always good with remembering information and recognizing patterns if my knowledge is correct?” The King handed you a folder full of pictures and information.

You nodded as you took it from him. Your eyes began to scan over the pages. Hugo was an attractive older, but younger than you man. With bright blue eyes and long brown hair he wore up in a bun. He was clean shaven and had a scar on his right cheek. Your head tilted as something looked oddly familiar with the guy. You couldn’t put your finger on it and choose to ignore it. He did most of his business here in the US and ran The Marquises arms dealer scheme in upstate New York.

The Marquis had given him his own little militia of men to help. They were all trained skilled fighters. You could only hope that you still had it in you to fight them. Gone were the days of your glory and youth but if John could get this far you knew you could too, though doubt was still in your mind. You were too busy reading Hugo’s file, you hadn't even noticed that the meeting was over and that The Bowery King and John spoke in a hushed manner.

John walked up and grabbed your shoulder causing you to jump. He apologized before leading you out of the room to somewhere more private. No more time for relationship arguments; it was time for the two of you to discuss your plan. You turned towards him as you heard the door click shut and his eyes almost seemed to be soft. Like he was sympathetic.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned.

The man took a breath.

“Do you remember Vladimir?” He was being cautious.

“Of course I remember him. He made damn sure I’d never forget.” Your blood almost boiled at the fact John would ever think you could forget your rapist and captor.

“Hugo is his cousin.” You felt the blood drain from your face.

“But how? Vladimir was Russian.. Hugo is French?”

Though it was possible, your brain couldn’t make sense of it as you still had a hard time thinking about your capture.

“They were cousins and Hugo was one of the boys that…” tortured you, raped you, he didn’t need to finish.

You sat down on the bed feeling numb. You had known it was more than one but Vladimir was the worst and the only one you had a name to a face. It was so long ago but a trauma like that, it felt just like yesterday. Your hand came up to trace the scar along your shoulder. John immediately went on to tell you he had no clue. Had he known, he would have never put you through this.

Jardani was with you, through all the healing and all the struggles and he never wanted to see you like that again. He had killed the boy himself. If this was going to set you back even more he’d rather take his chances alone. Although you hated him, you believed him. You knew he’d never put you through this, he knew more than anybody how dark of a time it was for you.

To stop the screaming when you’d have nightmares and sit on the toilet outside the shower while you washed because you trusted him to guard you. Nobody has ever made you feel more safe than he had and you were having a really hard time not reverting back into your habits of wanting his protection. You knew you could protect yourself as you had multiple times in the past but sometimes it was nice to depend on someone…

But this someone was your ex, the second worst thing you ever experienced. Yeah, even topping third place, your father being a serial killer and parents dying. The break up was rough, John would agree. He didn’t want to hurt you or bring up bad memories. In fact he didn’t know what he wanted out of coming to you, well you agreeing to help was ideal, he would’ve even appreciated good advice. You always knew what to do.

It’s why he kept asking you to just talk to him, then you came out with a confession that you birthed his children. In a moment of anger that he now regrets, he did want to make you help him. He wanted to scream in frustration just like he had right before he went to Paris to kill Gianna. Stupid, desperate past decisions made him do something that would come back to bite him in the ass. You wouldn’t change your mind about helping him anymore. Plus it was too late anyways. Marker’s really like to fuck John over. Before he could stop himself he reached out and grabbed your hand to stop you from touching the scar.

The act was too intimate for you. That was something he used to do when you were together, when you loved one another. You gasped. His hand was warm around your wrist and it made you want to cry, you almost wanted to give in and fall into his arms. The younger you missed the safety you used to feel and desperately craved it again but instead you ripped his hand away.

“I’m no longer that weak little girl and I don’t need you to comfort me, I’ve done just fine comforting myself.” You snapped.

You hated to insult your younger self. She wasn’t weak, she was hurting. John just watched you with worry in his eyes and you couldn’t take it. First he breaks your heart, brings you your marker, tells you nevermind -- that he takes it back, then he acts like an asshole in the car and now? Now he worries about you? You let out an aggravated yell and pushed past him. The tears started to fall the minute you were in the safety of the bathroom.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

#john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n

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omgitstatertot · 1 year

Text

Light in the Dark

Chapter Two

Chapter one || Chapter three

CW: Mentions of injury, child abuse, and neglect

“I don't like this Oshi…”

“Don’t worry (Y/N), this isn’t forever. I’ll make enough money from this new gig to retire super young and live a ‘proper’ life like you want me to.”

I look at the floor below my feet, trying to avoid his gaze. My brother always had a way of convincing me to be on board with his stupid plans. Not this time.

“Oshi, it’s too dangerous, and we both know dad’s connections aren’t the type to just ‘let’ you retire young.” I argue.

He covers my mouth with a scared look on his face.

“Lower your voice!! I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone where I was going and who is involved. If dad finds out I told you, he will tell his boss, and they will kill both of us!”

“I don’t care, I don't want you going!” I muffle into his calloused hand. “And chances are, you will die either way!”

He drops his hand as I continue.

“I can’t lose you..”

He chuckles as he turns around, putting the last of his things in his backpack.

“Lose me? Never! I will always be here for you (Y/N). And when I get rich, I’ll get you out of here and away from dad.”

He swings the backpack over his shoulder and gives me a hug tight enough that I can't breathe until he lets go.

“I’ll reach out soon, okay?”

He walks over to the door and opens it. He takes a step, but then he pauses and looks at me.

“I love you, kiddo. Don’t forget that.”

And he was gone.

I struggle to raise myself on my elbow. My father is still standing over me with a devilish look in his eyes.

“If it weren’t for your mother, I would have killed you back when you told me you enrolled in UA. But I know she would never forgive me. She loved you insipid creatures for some reason. So I let you continue to live in, and mutilate, MY home!” He tenses up, “And I let you continue to go to that incompetent school. But THIS is the kind of thanks I get? You are lucky that I don't freeze you to death right now.”

He takes a step towards me over the spread out papers. I flinch when he pulls his foot back to gain momentum. He swings his leg forward kicking my already bruised stomach. The recoil spreads to my whole body leaving me gasping for air. I feel blood start to trickle from my nose.

“This is your last warning (Y/N), forget about Oshi and forget about everything you think you know. If you don't start behaving yourself, even your mother won’t be able to stop me fro-”

The doorbell rings.

Oh thank god…

My father stops in place.

“Answer it.”

I try to stand up but fall back down. He grabs my shoulder and raises me to my feet.

“Go. And wipe your face off. If it's the cops, you haven’t seen me in a month.”

I wipe my nose with my hand, smearing the blood until it's gone. I hesitate, but then continue on across the room and down the stairs leaving me standing in front of my door. I begrudgingly open it and-

Mina?

“Hey girl!”

“What are you doing here?” I say, shocked.

“Well, Momo got a response from the school, they said we can use the pool tomorrow. She texted the group chat to let us know, but none of us had your number to tell you. And since I live the closest we decided I should come let you know in person… and get your number.”

“Oh.” I reply

“Are you ok? You look like you are in pain.”

I fight the tears forming in my eyes.

“Girl troubles,” I chuckle, “You know how it is.”

I hope that was believable…

“Oh I totally know how it is. Are you gonna be ok to go swimming tomorrow?” She asks.

“Oh, of course! I wouldn’t miss it! And my number is (xxx-xxxx).”

“Thanks girl! Alright, well I have to get going. My mom made dinner.” She says eagerly.

“Alright, bye Mina! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

I close the door and breathe out harshly. I almost lose my balance, but catch myself.

Do I have go back upstairs?

I shudder before taking the first step and continuing up the stairs. I begin to smell smoke and hurry up the stairs as fast as I can in this state. I reach the top and look around. I see my metal trash can in the middle of the floor with…

He burned the papers! D*mn it! I’m never gonna get that evidence again.

I quickly look around the rest of the room and I see my father standing in the corner in front of what looks like a purple warp gate.

“If you know what's good for you, you will forget about Oshi and anything you think you know about me and my associates.”

He steps back and suddenly he and the warp gate are gone. I pause until the smell of smoke becomes too overwhelming.

Sh**, the fire!

I quickly grab the lid to the trashcan off of the floor and try to smother the flame. To my luck, the fire went out before causing any damage to the house, but the damage to the papers is irreversible.

--Time Skip For Yall Cuties--

“The boys are here too?” Hagakure asks with a disappointed tone.

Momo replies, “Yes, they are here for endurance training. Just try to ignore them.”

I listen as everyone goes back and forth. Everyone is in the locker room getting changed. I glance away from my corner to see the girls putting on their bikinis and looking cute. I sigh before reaching for my school uniform.

Of course the one time I hang out with everyone I have to be the odd one out.

“Hey (Y/N),” Mina says, “Are you gonna wear the school uniform?”

I try to say yes, but now everyone is looking at me. In my nervousness, I just subtly nod my head.

“Why? You have that super cute bikini in your locker. Is it because of the boys? Mineta is pretty pervy, but I don't think he is here.”

“No it’s-” I gulped before raising my tee shirt to show my abdomen. “I just… Anyone could walk in and see.”

I see shocked looks from around the room and slowly lower my shirt with mortification pulsing through my veins.

What was I thinking? I should have just said my bikini didn’t fit.

Suddenly Yaoyorozu speaks. “So, we are all wearing our school suits?”

I look around, and everyone is in agreement.

Momo continues, "Alright, well, let's hurry up and get changed and then have some fun! And (Y/N), the bruising on your stomach is really bad. It looks like there is some internal bleeding. I won’t ask any more questions right now, but please let me take you to Recovery Girl while the rest of the girls get dressed.”

“Ok..” I say with tears forming in my eyes, “But you guys really don't have to do this. If anyone asks, I'll just say that I forgot my bikini. You all can still look cute. I’ll be fine. Don’t do this for me.”

“Girl, just hurry up and go to Recovery Girl and feel better!” Mina chimes, “Girl troubles my *ss!”

“And by the way.” Hagakure adds on, “Look at us, we look hot as h*ll no matter what we are wearing!” She poses like a model while everyone else laughs along with her shenanigans.

I chuckle along until Momo taps my shoulder signaling that we should go.

“You guys are amazing!” I say, unable to stop a tear from rolling down my cheek, “Thank you all, so much.”

I follow Momo out into the hallway. As soon as the door shuts I have to lean against the wall to keep my balance. My breathing speeds up and I start hyperventilating. Momo immediately uses her quirk to create a brown paper bag for me to breathe into. She rubs my back as I calm back down.

“It’s ok (Y/N),” She says kindly, “You will never have to worry about being a burden to us.”

How did she know what I was thinking?

“And I don’t know where that bruising came from, but I know it wasn’t training. They look like defensive wounds, so someone else did this… I’m assuming from your behavior that it was at home?”

I nod my head to let her know she is spot on.

“I won’t ask anything else,” she continues, “but you are safe now. And if you need somewhere else to stay just let me know. I have multiple guest rooms just begging for someone else to use them”

I always forget how rich she is…

“Thank you Momo,” I responded, “I might take you up on that after our training camp. But for now, the ‘threat’ will probably be keeping his distance.”

Momo and I finished talking, and she took me to Recovery Girl. It sparked some questions, but I played it off like I was sparring with someone and Momo hesitantly backed my story. She thinks I should tell the teachers so they can protect me. She doesn’t get it. If I tell them about my father, I will have to tell them EVERYTHING about my father. Including his affiliations with The League of Villains. They would think I am a mole.

No one understands that I resent the path my parents paved for me. I want to save people. I don’t know if I have what it takes to be #1, but I never want to live a life where I don't help others. I have seen what being a criminal is like first-hand, but what I can’t understand is why anyone would strive for that. I will do everything in my power to help others and make up for the pain and agony my own family has caused. Even if that means going against my own father…

Masterlist

Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #bnha dabi #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader

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casspurrjoybell-20 · 2 years

Text

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 9a

*Warning Adult Content*

Vacation’s Over - Part 1 - Aaron

"What's your pack like, Aaron?" Aubrey asked me excitedly, looking out the window of Evander's car.

We stayed in his apartment for another day to allow him to heal. His sire brought him a few blood bags, including some extra to take with him in case blood wasn't readily available back at our base. Given my feelings on the topic of him feeding on me, it was a smart idea. Evander was, thankfully, much better now. The bullets had taken a lot out of him, so he spent most of yesterday sleeping.

Aubrey and I hung around him, not sure what to do if he was asleep. When he woke up in the evening, he told me about what he and his sire had talked about earlier. To say I was concerned would be the understatement of the century. What the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

Assuming this was the Eye's work, then they were more than just a cult with influence in a single American state. Were they global? Was there something else going on? Worrying about it was all I could do as we drove. The moment we arrived, I'd talk with Erin and the others about it. They needed to know about what was potentially going to change and I'd honestly rather tell them in person than do it over the phone.

"Aaron?" Aubrey called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

Shoot, I forgot about his question. I turned away from the window to face the grinning nymph.

"It's nice. We basically make up our entire town, so there's plenty to do and lots of people to meet. Hopefully, you'll like it."

But, we weren't going there just yet. When we decided to attack the Eye with the neighboring packs, we set up a base of operations somewhere we could all get to with few difficulties. It'd been a few weeks since I'd been in our pack for more than a couple of hours. We'd been so busy planning, researching our enemy, and arguing a lot. The packs could barely settle on agreed meeting times, let alone plans of action. It was headache-inducing.

"I can't wait to see the others. I'm sure they're happy we're all free," Aubrey mused, leaning back in his seat.

"Hopefully my people tried finding contacts for your friends. They deserve to go home or wherever they wish to go," I said.

A few minutes later, we were finally able to go off-road after about three hours of nonstop driving. The city was fun and all, but it was so crowded. I much preferred the peaceful forest.

"Do you think your pack will like me?" Aubrey suddenly piped up again.

I glanced over again and he was worrying his lip between his teeth. I offered a small smile.

"I'm sure they'll love you," I reassured him.

He smiled, looking significantly less worried. Half an hour later, we were driving up a dirt path that led to a secluded and very large two-story cabin. Surrounding it were tents and trailers, as well as the trucks and cars we'd brought. It was kind of funny all of this could be kept hidden in a forest but we were pretty far from any hiking trails or towns. Evander parked his car off to the side of the cabin with a few other cars. We all exited his car, only for our heads to turn when we heard my name get called.

"Aaron. You're back."

Ryder ran at me full speed, tackling me to the ground as he followed. I groaned, pushing him off.

"Geez, Ryder. You know I hate that."

"I missed you so much. Don't you ever leave me again," he dramatically cried, before laughing loudly. "Goddess, Erin blabbed my ear off worrying about you, and Wren almost went out to try and find you."

I rolled my eyes, sitting up.

"Of course. Thank goodness those idiots didn't. I'm fine."

I helped Ryder stand before I realized my mates were still there, standing awkwardly.

"Oh. Ryder, these are my mates, Evander and Aubrey. Evander, Aubrey, this is one of my closest friends, Ryder. He's my future Gamma."

"I'm your close friend? Aaron, I am offended. I'm your best friend."

"No," I started, shoving his shoulder. "We both know that I care about Erin more. He doesn't annoy the shit out of me like you do."

Ryder pouted.

"You're so mean to me. Come on, let's go find the others."

He turned to look at my mates, offering a grin and a wave.

"Nice to meet you, by the way. I can't believe Aaron finally found his mates. Maybe you guys will soften him up."

As soon as we entered the cabin, I found myself glancing around to look for the one person I'd probably missed the most. When I found him talking with his father, I couldn't stop the small smile from taking over my face. At least, I smiled to contain the grin that wanted to erupt. Even if I'd gotten over my feelings for Erin, he was still someone I cared about a lot. My feet carried me over to the pair of Alphas quietly talking, and when they saw me, Erin grinned brightly.

"Aaron," he said, stepping away from his dad to pull me into a hug.

I hugged him back, refraining my sighing against him. I could tell by the way he snorted under his breath that he knew what I was trying not to do. He knew me too well.

"Glad to see you, Aaron. Maybe now I'll get some peace from Ryder and Wren. They're killing me," he whispered.

I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry I couldn't come and rescue you sooner, Princess," I teased.

We pulled away and he pouted.

"Why are you so mean to me. We both know you loooove me," he pointed out.

"Shut it, you idiot."

I punched him in the shoulder, brow furrowed. I didn't want my mates to hear him. Did they even know that I care about them? Would it matter if they got the wrong idea?

‘Of course, dummy.’

"It's wonderful to have you back, Aaron. I was just about to leave, so I'm glad I caught you," Alpha James said with a friendly smile.

Since we couldn't leave the packs defenseless, we were doing rotations. At least one pack leader stayed behind while the others were here, though my father decided to stay in the pack full-time.

‘Of course, he did. Workaholic.’

I pushed that thought of my head and nodded to the Alpha as he passed by.

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onyx-luvrrr · 2 years

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Hi miss! I was wondering if you can do Willam Afton x reader. Like she's married to William. So I thought if William wasn't so fond with Micheal when he was a baby, but was fine with his other kids how would reader feel as she loves all her kids.

Hi! I meant to post this yesterday, and I'm sorry I didn't </3 Pairing(s): William Afton x Reader Word Count: 0.5k Pronouns: She/Her

“Look, he has your eyes,” [YourName] cooed softly. William hummed in response, focusing on the book in his hands. [YourName] was too fixed on her newborn son, Micheal, to even glance up to see what William was doing. After 12 long hours of labor and waiting almost ten months prior to that- she was so happy to finally be holding her son. It wouldn’t be until a year later that [YourName] noticed the distaste William had for their son. “You missed his first steps and his first words.. all because of what? Henry?” [YourName] questioned. William breathed in and out slowly, trying to prevent himself from snapping at his wife. “I didn’t miss anything important, the boy just.. isn’t what I was expecting,” William answered. He turned away from her. “Nothing important? He isn’t what you were expecting?!- You know what- I’m going to walk away because if I don’t, I’m going to end up saying something I might regret,” [YourName] stated, folding her arms and storming off. Four years later, [YourName] and William would have a surprise baby girl named Elizabeth. The switch inside of William finally flicked on and all of a sudden, he was a parent. He did skin-to-skin, rocked her, and even helped Micheal hold Elizabeth. All the things he wouldn’t dare to do with Micheal, he would do with Elizabeth. It would be the same way three years later when [YourName] gave birth to another little boy, Evan. Micheal was now nine and had developed his own feelings, thoughts, and emotions. “Come on, hold your brother, Mike.” [YourName] said. “I will once dad and Elizabeth are done hogging him,” the child said, sighing as he climbed onto the bed. “No, Micheal, down. You could hurt your mother,” William scolded his son. “You would let Lizzy do it, why can’t I?” Micheal asked. “Your sister is lighter and younger than you. Don’t play games with me, Micheal Afton,” William scolded again. Micheal before nodding. [YourName] sighed sadly and shook her head before leaning over and patting her son’s head. “You can sit with me in bed once we get home tomorrow, ignore your father,” [YourName] whispered, causing the child to chuckle and smile.

William Afton:

❥ William would grow distant from his eldest son after Evan’s birth.

❥ Not that the two were close in the first place; they didn’t have a proper relationship to begin with. ❥ You would argue with William day in and day out to pay Micheal the same attention he pays Elizabeth and Evan. ❥ But of course, you never won that argument. ❥ When Micheal turned fourteen, William opened up the pizzeria. ❥ You saw this as a bonding opportunity for Micheal and your husband. ❥ Despite never having the closest relationship with William, Micheal grew to love the pizzeria. ❥ His little brother, Evan, not so much. ❥ You were so unaware what it meant, a year later, when you saw William and Micheal finally bonding. ❥ God, you wished you never pushed the two to have a relationship.

#fnaf x reader #fnafsb x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's security breach x reader #fnaf william afton x reader #afton x reader #fnaf afton x reader #william afton x reader

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cockslutpadalecki · 3 years

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When Daddy’s Not Around

Summary: A cockroach infestation in Y/N’s apartment block forces her and her parents to stay with her dad’s best friend— the wealthy bachelor James Barnes. And when her parents are out of town for the weekend, the sexual tension that has been brewing between the pair finally boils over.

Characters: DadsBestFriend!Bucky x F!Reader.

Words: 5916.

Warnings: age gap relationship (reader is 18), heavy sexual tension, explicit sexual content, Bucky being a little tease, Bucky being a slut, Bucky in just a towel, female masturbation, finger sucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), multiple orgasms, definite size kink, cream pie, 18+.

A/N: Written for @sweeterthanthis “Quote Me On It” challenge, my prompt was “I thought about what you would look like having an orgasm” from Sex, Lies & Videotape. It is highlighted in bold, however it has been altered slightly. Bucky’s look is entirely inspired by this GIF, and if you’re after a visualisation of the sex position, feast your eyes on this. Beta: @there-must-be-a-lock but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. Lou, your detailed feedback and suggestions have literally altered my writing experience completely, thank you so much. I’d like to also thank my pre-reader @ozarkthedog for your wonderful comments, and sending all of my gratitude to @imanuglywombat, my beautiful wombat queen. Your support has been priceless throughout. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. My work is my own, therefore I do not give consent for this story to be re-posted or translated to any other site. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

You’re barely through the front door one dreary Monday evening when your dad accosts you in the tiny hallway, his hands full with two bulging duffel bags.

You shoot him a quizzical look as you drop your backpack to the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Pack as many clothes and essentials as you can,” he instructs. “We’ve gotta move out.”

“Move out?” you repeat incredulously. “Did we miss the last rent cheque or something?”

He tries hard to school his features, almost horrified that you would suggest such a thing, and as soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them. You’re about to apologise as the older man drops the bags to the floor, turning his attention to the bureau to the left of you.

“Entire apartment block has cockroaches. Whole building is getting fumigated,” he explains, eyes trained downward as he rummages inside the small wooden dresser.

You shiver at the thought of thousands of the parasites crawling over your body before questioning, “Where the hell are we gonna live?”

“Bucky says we can stay with him.”

Your stomach feels like lead at the words, even though it makes perfect sense. Nana and Pops live too far out of town, and you still need to be close enough to school without having to catch six buses just to make it in time for the first period.

Bucky. James. Dad’s oldest and closest friend.

His house may be in the opposite direction to your school district, but it’s still the more viable option. You’d only have to get one bus this way, even if it did mean getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure you’re on it. Plus he has more than enough space to accommodate the three of you without feeling like you’re living out of each other’s pockets.

And you can’t argue with logic, despite how much you want to.

So Bucky’s house it is.

The next week passes by in a blur of belongings shoved into whatever hold-all’s and suitcases you can find. Desperate to pack as many of your clothes as possible, it doesn’t matter that you haven’t worn half of the garments in what feels like years, you never know when the occasion would call for a cute little flowery two piece and clumpy brown wedges that you can barely walk in.

The bedroom James’ housekeeper Olga has allocated to you is almost the same size as your entire apartment, and that doesn’t include the walk-in closet that leads off to the left of the queen sized bed, which in itself is bigger than your whole room at home. You can’t understand why a man who lives alone needs such a vast living quarters, but as you unpack your possessions into a pathetically small portion of the closet, you are suddenly grateful that he does.

The first night after you settle in as much as you can, James promises to give the three of you the space you need, and to treat the place as if it were your own. Predictably, Dad objects, but James won’t hear of it.

“My home will always be your home,” quotes the playboy as Dad shoots his friend daggers, remembering the same words falling from his own mouth years before. “Every amenity is at your disposal, and my staff are always on hand if you need anything.”

“We can’t ask them to do that, Buck. They don’t work for us,” Dad argues.

James lives a lavish lifestyle, one he always downplays when he comes to visit. It isn’t that he’s ashamed of his wealth, but he knows your parents are modest and never live beyond their means. He has too much respect for them to shove it in their faces.

But you always remember the one and only time your father and his friend disagreed over their financial differences. James had offered to help out when bills began to mount up after your father’s car broke down at the side of the highway, and repairs were costly. Your parents were simply too proud to take his money, and it was never spoken of again.

“But they work for me, and they do what I ask of them, and if that means waiting on hand and foot for my guests then that’s what they’ll do,” James counters quickly.

“Buck—” Dad starts, but his best friend shuts him down with a look and a casual wave of the hand.

“I’m not gonna argue about this. My word’s final.”

After that brief conversation, nothing else is said about it, and you all go about your business as usual, only coming together in the evenings at dinner. James insists you keep your family traditions while residing in his home, and after much persuasion from Dad, he joins you for mealtimes when he isn't off doing… Well, whatever it is that he does.

You can barely eat when he’s there, too distracted by his flawless appearance, even when dressed in a simple white t-shirt and grey jogging pants. And you’re thankful that you have school to take your mind off of him, because even though the house is extensive beyond your wildest dreams, he always seems to be one step behind you at every turn.

Of course you’re flattered by the attention from the older man, but when he’s right under your nose all the time, it becomes virtually impossible to think of anything else but the way you wish he would fuck you six ways from Sunday.

Wednesday morning starts off like any other, except for the first time in a week, James is nowhere to be seen as you prepare breakfast for yourself. The peace and quiet is welcoming, the elusive owner of the house absent for once, and you can enjoy the cereal and orange juice you picked out from the selection Olga had left for you.

James has always been a part of your life. A constant that never waivered, no matter how busy he became. He was part of the family. An unofficial godfather-type turned your biggest crush.

You always knew it was inappropriate, and you did your best to avoid him whenever you could. You would start to make excuses to not visit him with your dad when he’d offer. You’d try to make yourself scarce when James would swing by your home, but in the tiny apartment you shared with your parents, it was practically impossible.

He always found you sulking in your room, managing to pry out some made up lie as to why you were in such a foul mood. He usually bought the standard drama that came with teenage girls, and not wanting to pry any further, or get sucked into the politics of high school, he’d leave you alone to whimper into your mattress as you wished the pillow you were rutting against was his painfully attractive face. He would still pop by at least once a week to see your parents, but after waiting in your room for his expected interruption, eventually even those ceased.

Over time, James began to tease you for your sullen attitude. Often, you feared he knew your secret, always holding your gaze for a little too long or smirking when he’d catch you staring. Clearly your discomfort brought him joy, and that only seemed to spur him on even more.

So the thought of having to live under the same roof as him for the foreseeable future terrified but excited you.

Mindlessly, you flip through a magazine Mom had picked up at the store as you eat, not really paying attention to the articles when the vibration of your phone receiving a text against the marble counter plucks you from your daze. The sudden noise causes you to knock over the bowl of coco puffs and milk into your lap.

“Shit, shit, shit!” you curse, trying desperately to pat at the wet patch on your skirt as you hurriedly rush upstairs, well aware of time running away from you. You need to get a move on if you’re going to be ready to catch the bus to school, and in your sopping wet outfit that’s becoming less and less likely.

Barrelling into your temporary room, you manage to pick out something new in a matter of minutes, pulling on the cutesy pinafore dress over your salvaged t-shirt as you rush to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running disrupting your efforts to make it to school on time.

Just perfect.

You knock quickly, hoping to rouse the attention of the person inside, but it fails to distract them from whistling a tune you vaguely recognise.

“Dad? Is that you?” You call out, finally placing the A Team theme song he always ends up humming, “Hurry up, I gotta go, I’m gonna miss the bus,” you add, yelling through the door, hoping that this time he’ll hear you.

Knocking again, you huff loudly in an attempt to convey your frustration, while hastily pulling on the pink knee high socks you picked out to complement your fresh change of clothes.

In the midst of bending over, and dragging the soft material up over your knee, the door finally unlocks and a billow of damp steam hits you in the face before it dissipates entirely. Tanned, muscular legs and a blanket of pure white appears through the cloud of water droplets, and it becomes apparent that your face is at the perfect crotch level.

James is naked, save for the towel that barely covers his modesty, the soft cotton hugging his lithe hips, showing off V lines that could cut fucking glass.

“And here’s me thinkin’ I’d need to work a little harder to get you in this position,” he purrs seductively as you return to standing, unable to tell if the blood rushing to your head is down to the sight in front of you or from rising up too fast.

His chest glistens like he’s smothered himself in baby oil. The moisture from the shower clings to every divot and ridge of his abs, and with his chocolate brown hair still dripping, rogue rivulets of water trickle down over his pecs and down onto his stomach, which only serves to make the image even more delectable.

While your thighs clench and your stomach twists in arousal, you’re rendered temporarily mute as you try to swallow despite the dryness in the back of your throat.

“Sorry,” James apologises, running a hand through his wet hair. “I didn’t realise I was in there for so long.”

“I, um.” You cough, clearing your throat before asking, “What’s wrong with yours?”

“I’m getting it re-modelled,” he tells you.

“Oh.” Your brow furrows a little at his explanation, but you don’t question it. “Why couldn’t you use one of the other six bathrooms in this place?”

“Five actually,” he chuckles lightly. “And I like this one best.”

“You have a favourite bathroom?”

“I wouldn’t say favourite, I just really enjoy the view from here the most.” James’ azure eyes glance over your shoulder, and you find yourself turning your head at the same time to see what he’s looking at.

The open doorway to your bedroom.

Realisation suddenly dawns on you, and the weird 'I feel like I’m being watched’ sensation you’ve been having suddenly makes sense. You should be horrified at his subtle admission, but instead, you feel your pussy clench tightly around nothing. Your entire body feels like a furnace as you glance back at him, his lips painted into a lazy, upturned smile.

“The - the view, huh?” comes your stuttered response as he steps from the doorway, narrowing the gap between you. And even though the entire hall is more than spacious to house both of you comfortably without being in each other’s personal spaces, he’s so close that you can feel the heat oozing from his body permeating yours and it makes your skin prickle in arousal.

“Mm hm,” James nods slowly.

You continue to look up at him, mouth slightly agape as your eyes flicker between his piercing blue stare to his lips— so beautifully pink and thick. Fuck, you just wanna kiss him so damn bad.

“It looks good enough to eat.” His eyes drop to your lips, his own pinched between his teeth. “Bet it’s sweet as a peach.”

A small noise escapes from your throat, knowing you’re completely and irrevocably not talking about the “view” any more. Your mind is whirring as you try to conjure up a response that isn’t just garbled, horny nonsense— something along the lines of wanting him to throw you against the wall and find out, but words fail you.

“Anyway,” James says, clearing his throat. The sound pulls you from your daydream. “Have a good day at school, kid,” he adds with a smirk before striding off down the hall, leaving a trail of damp footprints in his wake.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” Dad announces that evening at dinner.

Thank god, you internally sigh. After your encounter with James this morning, and spending the entire day wound up tighter than a bed spring, you need to put as much distance between him and you as possible. You can almost feel your face light up in glee, already babbling excitedly about getting away from these “drab four walls” when your mom intercedes gently.

“Oh no sweetie, it’s just me and your dad.” She flashes you a kind smile. “Bucky’s giving us his cabin.”

“What about me?”

“I doubt you’ll want to join us honey, it’s for our anniversary.” The couple share a loved up look, and the sickening realisation hits you.

“Oh,” you respond, “ew.”

The three adults chuckle lightly, seemingly amused by your distaste at your parents for going to spend their weekend doing it.

“So am I gonna stay at Nana and Pops?” you ask excitedly, eyes darting back and forth between them.

“Why would you when you can stay here and keep our host company,” Dad laughs.

You glance over at the man in question, and James raises his fork and eyebrow in unison, lips curled up into the same teasing grin it was this morning.

“I think he’s more than capable of finding his own company,” you mutter under your breath, but it’s still loud enough for them all to hear.

“Y/N, don’t be so rude,” Mom rebukes you softly, but James merely scoffs at your insult.

“It’s fine Ange, the kid’s right.” He smiles at you, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip as he does so. “But I’ll see to rein it in for the weekend.”

You hate that he still calls you that. And judging by the amused look tugging at his features, he knows you hate it too.

James’ attempts to “rein it in” are feeble. Your parents have only been gone a matter of hours, and he’s already preparing himself for another date, regardless of the fact he’s just returned from a “liquid lunch” two hours before.

You aren’t stupid. It’s obvious what he’s really been up to— the lingering smell of the woman’s sickly sweet perfume wafts under your nostrils as he strides past you sitting in the kitchen, hungrily nibbling at a plate of Olga’s freshly made chocolate chip cookies. You glance up through thick lashes, watching as he strides over the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water.

“She’s got a soft spot for you,” he comments, your gaze immediately drawn to his deft fingers unscrewing the cap before chucking it onto the counter next to you.

“Who?”

“Olga,” he affirms with a light laugh as he brings the plastic to his lips and swallows deeply. “She’s worked for me for six years now, and not once has she ever made me cookies.” He indicates the slowly emptying plate in front of you with a small tilt of his head.

“Clearly she’s fallen for my charms,” you reply nonchalantly.

“She’s not the only one,” he mutters, thinking you don’t hear him. He takes another big gulp of water, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs makes the knot in your stomach tighten. Licking your lips unconsciously, you wish you could drag it up and over his throat instead.

As he finishes drinking, he wipes away a stray droplet of water from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, eyes locked onto yours. The action is enough to make your panties flood with arousal.

“You, er, missed a spot.” You tap a finger against your neck, signifying the spot where he needs to rub away the garish crimson lipstick print staining his flawless sun-kissed skin.

He smudges the mark with his fingers, smiling wide as he pulls them away, scarlet now tainting the tips.

You can’t mask your envy, even if you tried.

It’s a little after eight thirty when James finds you in the lounge. He’s clad in expensive black Armani when he strides in, his perfectly pressed jacket hanging over his arm. He does a double take when he spots you curled up on the couch, flicking through channels trying to find something decent to watch.

“‘Kay, what’s the deal?” He asks, placing the ebony garment down on the back of the couch before flashing you a teasing smile while he fiddles with his cufflinks.

Fuck. Why is watching him do that so hot?

As you clench your thighs together, you hope he doesn’t notice the way you shift awkwardly in an attempt to create enough friction to ease the ache between your legs.

“Hm?”

James picks up his suit jacket and puts it on, taking the time to smooth down the lapels and collar. “It’s Friday night, how come you don’t have plans?”

“Friend blew me off to hang out with her boyfriend,” you mutter, still a little put out by her cancelling on you at the last minute. You turn your attention back to the television, not wanting to let your gaze linger on just how fuckable he looks.

“And you didn’t feel like spending time with yours?”

“Don’t have one,” you say, stare flickering towards the older man momentarily. “The boys at school are jerks.”

“Boys your age barely know what to do with their dicks anyway.”

You hate to admit that he’s right. Despite the fact the last guy you got to fourth base with oozed charisma and pure sexual energy, it seemed that it was simply a well very put together act. The reality being, he had come within minutes of being inside you, while you laid there wondering if it was even in yet. The premature jizzstain then had the audacity to tell all of his friends that he took your virginity, and worse still, that you were a lousy lay.

To reiterate, boys equal jerks.

You take the time to look him up and down in scrutiny. “From what I hear, a lot of men don’t either.”

James lightly scoffs. “Oh, I’m not one of those men.”

“And I’m sure the woman who left her lipstick prints all over your neck would no doubt agree,” you reply sarcastically.

“What’s the matter kid, you jealous?” He laughs.

Your jaw tightens as you stare up at him, icy blue eyes daring you to say yes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Yet the fact you remain quiet tells James everything he needs to know, and his lips slowly curl up into a mirthful smile.

He gives you a knowing wink as he turns on his heels and confidently strides from the room with a spring to his gait, not before throwing, “Have a good night kid, don’t wait up,” over his shoulder.

Kid.

God, you wanna murder him.

It’s not until you hear the sound of the engine of his Ferrari roaring to life from outside that your thoughts are pulled from your salacious fantasies— each one featuring James’ cock, and having it stuffed into any one of your available holes.

You distract yourself with mindless television for a while, until the chill of the A/C blasting across your bare skin is all you can think about. You know you should just go upstairs and put on warmer clothing, the small t-shirt and sleep shorts doing very little to stave off the cold, but the thought of traipsing up all of those stairs suddenly seems like a gargantuan effort. Unable to find a blanket anywhere, you settle for the grey sweater laying over the back of the couch, assuming it belongs to Olga, but it’s not until you pull it over your head that the faint smell of James’ aftershave engulfs your senses.

Of course it would be his.

You debate taking the item of clothing off, however almost as soon as the softness and warmth of the material strokes over your skin, you decide against it. His scent is distracting at first, but eventually it becomes a comfort and you find yourself snuggling into it as you climb back into the seat you had moulded within the leather couch.

Somehow three hours pass, and your stomach loudly gurgles as a pizza commercial starts up, reminding you that you haven’t had anything substantial to eat since the cookies Olga left. For a moment your heart leaps, hoping there are still some left before you remember that you had already eaten them all after catching the leftover lipstick marks on James’ perfect fucking neck.

You wonder where else she’s marked him with that slutty store-bought claret, and as you start to descend back into unwanted envy, you force yourself up from the couch in search of food.

You feel like an intruder in the house, rummaging through the cupboards for any kind of snacks you could nibble on while you pick out a movie to watch. And even though James gave you express permission to help yourself to anything, you still feel like you’re stealing when you manage to get your hands on a box of microwaveable popcorn.

As you watch the timer count down, the familiar sugary sweet smell fills the vast kitchen, and your stomach begins to cramp and growl, desperate for sustenance as you hear the front door slam shut.

Olga wasn’t due back until early morning, and James would surely be home even later than her, the heady stench of sex accompanying him. Holy shit, were you being broken into? Should you call the cops?

No, he had a state of the art security system surrounding the entire property. Nobody would be getting within two miles of this place without some kind of silent alarm triggering.

You freeze in place, internally arguing with yourself about whether to call out to the unknown person when James suddenly appears in the doorway, looking only a little dishevelled.

“Ah, so you’re the popcorn thief,” he jests, walking towards you.

“One bag hardly counts,” you retort flippantly.

“Yeah, yeah tell that to the cops.” He smirks, stepping up to the counter, and empties his pockets onto the marble. Cell, wallet, keys, condoms…

Well, you suppose you can’t blame him for always being prepared, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy from bubbling in your chest.

The microwave beeps and you quickly open it to allow the rising steam to escape, waiting a few seconds for it to dissipate before reaching inside for the bulging paper bag.

“So, what happened to your date?” you ask, aloof.

James scrunches up his nose, letting out a small laugh as he reaches over for a handful of popcorn that you’re in the middle of pouring into the bowl in front of you. Just the way his fingers curl around the puffed up kernels makes your skin prickle with heat, wishing they were flexing inside you. You discard the bag, thankful for the moment to look away.

“Paid for her Uber,” he shrugs. “Figured I had someone better waiting for me here.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Who, Olga?”

James slowly rounds the counter, his cobalt eyes never leaving you as he comes to stand in front of you. He’s so close you can easily reach out and touch him, but your hands remain at your sides, waiting for him to react first.

“Baby girl, we both know I don’t wanna fuck my housekeeper.”

He steps forward, finally closing the small gap between you as the noise that escapes you at the new pet name is incoherent. James stares down at you, pupils widening as he sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip.

“That my sweater?” he asks softly. Your cheeks grow hot at his questioning.

“Yeah, sorry, I was cold,” you explain, giving each sleeve a tug as you begin to shimmy out of it, but James’ voice stops you.

“Don’t.” He licks his lips devilishly. “It looks good on you.” You squirm at his compliment, unsure of how to respond. “You’d look better in less though.”

His comment tethers you to the spot, and for a moment you’re both frozen, simply staring at each other.

Is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

It’s almost as if all other sound has been sucked from the room, apart from the steady thump of blood pounding in your ears.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.

You break the silence first with a shaky, “I should—” as you point towards the lounge, yet you make no attempt to move. James nods like he’s giving you permission to do so, but as you begin to take a step back, he suddenly reaches for the sweater, grabbing the grey material with a tight fist.

In a flash, he’s pulling you towards him and his lips are crashing heavily over yours.

He tastes like expensive champagne and whiskey with hints of sweetness from the popcorn cutting through the bitterness, tongue deliciously wet and hot as it explores yours while low growls emit from his chest. The deep, gravelly vibrations make your lips tingle as they move down your body, settling thickly in your core.

As you relax into the kiss, James’ grip around the sweater loosens, and his hands find their way to the backs of your thighs, giving your bare flesh a small tap. You almost jump into his arms, wrapping your legs tight around his waist.

You can barely breathe through the force of his kisses, each one more desperate and fervid than the last. His fingers press hard into your skin as he maneuvers you away from the kitchen, the popcorn long forgotten. Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly on the roots as he carries you to the couch, getting off on the sound of James moaning into your mouth.

You’re already pawing at his tie and the buttons on his shirt, stripping the black fabric from his chest when he places you down on the couch. As soon as your ass meets the leather, James is already knelt between your spread thighs, his hands everywhere. Your lips part temporarily as he yanks the sweater off over your head, eyes widening at the sight of your nipples clear through your t-shirt before his mouth captures yours hungrily once more.

It’s all teeth and tongue— messy. A fiery culmination of all the months of tension between you. He kisses you like he’s trying to devour you, and you reciprocate by doing the same in return.

There’s no time to cherish his body, or allow him to worship yours. You need him. Now.

As you work the zipper of his suit pants open, James makes light work of your shorts and panties. He pulls away from the kiss, tugging the fabric quickly down your legs before humming appreciatively at the sight of your bare cunt.

He moves back in to kiss you, but instead of doing so, he lets his lips brush yours delicately, breath hot on your cheek. His hands glide up your thighs, and as he reaches your core, the tips of his fingers smooth through your folds, coating them liberally with slick. The contact makes you whine.

“You sure you’re not jealous, baby girl? Because you’re fuckin’ wet for someone who claims they’re not into me,” he whispers against your lips, letting out a deep, hushed laugh.

“I never said— fuck!” You groan as his finger breaches your heat until he’s knuckle deep, curling it upwards as he does so.

“Yeah? You like that?” he teases softly, pushing in another. “How ‘bout this?”

Your entire body tightens as he holds them still, bright cerulean staring down at you, his lips puffy and swollen from your kisses. All you want him to do is move. Canting your hips slightly as you give him a reluctant nod, James’ lips split into a wide grin.

“There ya go.”

His fingers retreat slowly before plunging them back inside you. You cry out, grabbing onto his biceps to keep you steady as he begins to fuck you open, a litany of damp praises tumbling from his lips on a loop. You writhe on his fingers, the warmth in your belly coiling tighter with each drive and retreat, feeling your climax teetering in the distance, the threat of it blooming into something explosive.

“Fuck, you should see the mess you're makin’ of my couch, baby girl,” James observes with pride, tongue resting heavy on his lips as he concentrates his stare between your spread thighs. “C’mon, show me that tongue,” he adds in a whisper, the tone of his voice contradictory— all rough and gravelly.

You part your lips slowly and stick it out.

“Good girl.”

As his fingers retreat, leaving you wanting and bereft, you whine at the loss. He shoves them into your mouth, muting your mewls as the sweet tangy arousal lays thickly on your tongue.

“Suck.”

Closing your lips around the intrusion in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks like you’re sucking dick. James stares at you, marvelling at the sight of you licking his fingers clean.

“Get my cock out,” he orders.

Your hands work fast to free him of the confines of his underwear, and when your fingers finally curl around his hard length, you blanch a little at the size. You stroke up his shaft, chest swelling with pride as James growls deeply, his next command causing the heat in the pit of your stomach to twist and tighten.

“Get those fuckin’ knees up. Show me that pretty pussy.”

You fall back against the couch cushions, and curling your arms around your legs as you roll onto your side, you bring your knees to your chest, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to him. James shuffles up behind you, cock poised in his hands as he teases the head through your folds.

Even though there’s no need for prep, a strained whimper still falls from your lips as he edges forward into your wet heat, his hefty girth stretching you wide. When your eyes scrunch closed at the intense pressure, he’s careful to stop and check you’re alright.

“It’s just so…” you gasp, feeling him slide in another inch, “big.”

James laughs softly at the compliment, and retreats a little.

“No no, don’t stop,” you reassure him, grabbing his forearm to coax him closer. He follows your instruction, driving further inside you with a low groan as his hips finally meet your ass. You let go of a strained cry at the impossibly deep angle.

He begins to move back and forth, each drag of his cock hitting every pressure point inside you as his thrusts quicken until the sound of skin slapping skin fills the vast lounge, mixed with your heady moans for James to fuck you harder.

“That’s it baby girl,” he coos, pulling back to stare in awe where you conjoin. “Wish you could see your greedy little cunt swallowing up my cock.”

James reaches between you, his fingers toying with your pussy lips, and parts them a little more, eyes lighting up as he watches himself disappear back inside you.

He slides his fingers up, swapping them out to sweep his thumb over your clit. Immediately you clench around him, feeling heat pooling in your core as he circles your bead with expert precision.

“Fuck, you’re soakin’ me.”

You know. You can feel it coating his cock each time he drives back inside you. Can feel it dripping out of you, and down onto the stupidly expensive leather below you. James continues to praise you throughout, his thumb ceasing to let up its ministrations as he coaxes you closer and closer to euphoria.

“C’mon, come for me baby girl,” he urges, shifting his thumb a millimetre to the right just as his cock brushes over a particular spot inside you. “Come for me.”

“Oh g-god, I’m gonna—”

The words die on your tongue as you explode. Rushes of heat and pleasure fill your veins, and you tense under the weight of your delirium, teeth pulling painfully at your bottom lip as you come harder than you ever thought you possibly could.

It’s not until your vision re-focuses that you notice James staring down at you, a lazy smirk painted across his lips as he fucks you.

“What… are you… so happy about?” you question breathlessly between thrusts.

“Always thought about what you would look like having an orgasm,” he chuckles lightly as he reaches for your ankles and pulls your legs roughly apart.

Rolling over onto your back, you groan at the new depth, eyes rolling as you swear you feel him in your stomach. “Now you don’t have to just think about it.”

“Now I can just remember what it feels like to have you squeezin’ ‘round my dick.”

You clench at his words, pride filling your chest as his eyes flutter closed at the sensation so you do it again. “Hm, like this?”

“Fuck baby girl, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that,” he breathes.

You tense around his length once more, smirking up at him this time, enjoying the sight of him losing his composure.

“Please James,” you plead, biting down on your lower lip, unsure of what you’re really asking him for.

He grunts. “Love it when you say my name like that.”

“James,” you purr, which only serves to make his hips snap harder. “Oh god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Yeah?” he smirks proudly.

“Mm hm,” you squeak. “Want you to come with me. Fill up my pretty little pussy.”

“Shit, you are a dirty girl, aren’t ya?”

You nod, pushing your feet harder down into the couch, angling your hips up so he can drive in even deeper. You’re trembling again before you know it, surrendering entirely to your orgasm as James growls, hissing your name through his teeth as he spills into you, his seed warming you from the inside out.

Once his hips stutter to a stop, he collapses on top of you, leaving a trail of tiny pecks across your collarbone. Eventually, he leans back up on his palms, and gazes down at you in complete adoration.

“Sorry about the mess,” you apologise with a little giggle when he pulls out, feeling his seed dribble down through your folds and onto the couch below you.

“It’s fine.” He places a sloppy kiss on your lips, laughing at the look of horror on your face as he jokes, “I’ll just send your Dad the dry cleanin’ bill.”

***

WDNA: @aquariusbarnes @my-divine-death @nastybuckybarnes @maeve-writes @teishalicious @dreamlessinparis @beautifulrose0809 @buckysdxll @mollyscoffe45 @j-j-ehlby-writes @lowercasegenius @syrenavenger @couldabeenamermaid @sagechanoafterdark

Bucky: @andreasworlsboring101 @adreamemporium @cake-writes @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @sammykb1994 @smokeandnailz @syntheticavenger @vicmc624

ALL SS: @chamberofsloths @imanuglywombat @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @jensenswinchester @la-cey @livstilinski @otomefromtheheart @starlightcrystalline @sharp-cheekbones-locked @saiyanprincessswanie@sunwardsss @threeminutesoflife @xoxonotme

Forever: @amandamdiehl @becs-bunker @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @danneelsmain @dandywinchesterbras @doctor-hp-mcu @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @downanddirtydean @foxyjwls007 @gayasslookinass @hoewkeye @heyyouwiththeassbutt @hoboal87 @ilovefanfic86 @jewelswrites-ish @joseyrw @letsby @letsdisneythings @mogaruke @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @pinkshenanigan @princessmisery666 @rattwritesfics @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @stoneyggirl @that-one-gay-girl @warriorqueen1991 @wonder-cole @xoxabs88xox @zooaliaa

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

little ivy and willow playing together, and Ivy's the boss (ofc) and Willy's the employee she fires. ‘youre fired!’ and willy goes crying to harry coz her sister fired her

Did you guys miss them?!

—

Ivy is so bossy (as we know)- takes after her father in every sense of the word.

Willow is much more gentle, taking after her mother, but that doesn’t mean she won’t stand up for herself against her older sister.

The two spend hours and hours playing with each other in the playroom - school, restaurant, mummy and baby were their favorites.

However sometimes these games didn’t end in laughter and giggles. They are siblings which means sometimes it ends in tears and screams.

Ivy is six and a half, Willow’s freshly three and obsessed with her older sister.

YN is fluttering about the upper level, collecting laundry and cleaning as Harry works from home in his office.

They’re playing restaurant - well bakery and of course, Ivy had deemed herself the chef and Willow is the waitress who is serving the menagerie of stuffies.

“No, not the penguin! I said the frog got the soup!” Ivy orders from where she’s standing at their kitchen set with a spatula.

Ivy was in her outfit from kindergarten still*** *** and Willow had decided that she was spending the day in her pajamas *** since she didn’t have to go anywhere today.

“Sorry sissy,” Willow lisps, carefully setting down the teacup in front of the right stuffed animal before scurry back to the kitchen.

“Okay, now the t-rex wants macaroni and cheese, okay?” Ivy says in a serious tone, clattering around some bowls and plastic plates, “Go give it to ‘em.”

The littler one nods, taking a bowl that’s handed to her and bringing it to the t-rex but she trips over a stray rolling pin and topples over.

“You spilled it! You’re fired!” Ivy demands, huffing that it’s not going exactly as planned, “You can’t come back in the kitchen!”

Willow is already sniffling, startling herself from the fall, and her elbow hurts. She shakes her curls and says, “No, I play too.”

“No! Out! You’re fired!” Her older sister repeats, blocking her entrance back into the play set with a annoyed expression.

Willow gives her sister one last glance before running off to find the closest parent which happened to be Harry in his office.

“Daddy, daddy!” She sobs pathetically, her big brown eyes tearing up and flowing down her cheeks as she runs to his desk.

“Give me a moment,” He says to his zoom conference before muting himself and scooping up his younger daughter, “Wha’s the tears for, Low?”

“Ivy s’being mean to me, she fired me from the bakery!” She tells her father as she wriggles until she’s tucked against his hard chest and her thumb finds lips.

Harry had to hide his smile, instead he cards his fingers through her fiery red curls and kisses her forehead, “Okay, let’s go fix this. Hm?”

When they arrive back to the playroom, Ivy is immersed in an imaginary cake she is baking for her hungry customers.

“Ivy Elizabeth,” Harry murmurs, bouncing Willow on his hip as she stares down at her sister with an angry glare.

“No daddy! Out, now! No sissy, no daddy!” Ivy replies, no even bothering to look up at the two of them.

“This is just as much Willow’s playroom as it is yours, little dove. Y’have t’share with your sister,” Harry replies, letting Willow get down to toddle back over.

“No no no! Mine!” The older one protests, snatching a teapot out of her sister’s hand and Willow lets out a resounding screech before plopping on her bum in protest.

YN steps into the room, putting down a laundry basket, and stationing her hands on her hips, “I know you didn’t just grab something out of your sister’s hands, Ivy.”

“Mumma, she did-“ Ivy tries to argue with a furrowed brow that mimicked her father’s.

“It seems like you need a break from playing. Come help mumma fold the laundry. Yes?” YN isn’t really asking though, “After you apologize to your sister.”

Harry helps Willow up, hushing her softly when she whines and wraps her arm around his calf, “Daddy, please.”

“It’s about nap time,” YN reminds him as she motions for Ivy to come over, which she does with trudging feet.

“M’sorry sissy,” Ivy mutters, looking at her sister with a pout and a wobble to her lip, “I shouldn’t have been mean.”

“S’kay,” Willow smiles and accepts the hug that Ivy tugs her into before she blows a raspberry on her little sister’s cheek to make her laugh.

YN kisses her husband’s cheek before trailing out of the room - followed by her daughter who’s eager to spend time with mum.

“Daddy, cuddle?” The younger asks, nuzzling into his suit trousers and reaching for his hand until he picks her up.

“Y’want to go in y’room, take a nap?” Harry murmurs, clicking off the light of the room before closing the door.

“No, hold me, hold me,” Willow orders, rubbing her eye with her chubby fist.

“I’m on a meeting, Lo,” Harry tells her but is already turning back towards his office where he’ll of course let her nap with him.

And when he unmutes himself and continues, he doesn’t acknowledge the sleeping toddler draped on his chest with her nose tucked into his collarbone and her hand resting on his neck.

The other attendees of the meeting are distracted by the beautiful little girl who was fast asleep despite her father cussing and ranting about proper billing addresses - not stirring once.

And when a second little girl scampers onto Harry’s lap to take up the other side and nestle into his chest for a bit of relaxation - well they want to coo but aren’t given the chance.

Despite having two comfy, sleeping children on his lap - it doesn’t stop him from seething out to his employees, “Next time it’s billed wrong, m’firing the whole lot of you. S’it tha’ fuckin’ hard to read?”

#ceorry #ceo!harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #update

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michelle-is-writing · 3 years

Text

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

#greg house #gregory house #gregory house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house x reader #greg house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines

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